Faith-based governance is no guarantee of truth
Op-Ed
Christopher Cudworth is the author of Honest-To-Goodness: Why Christianity Needs a Reality Check and How to Make It Happen, co-authored by Dr. Richard Simon Hanson, Professor or Religion (Emeritus) of Luther College.
As a long-time cyclist, I spend plenty of time riding Illinois' backroads in farm country. The signs of the times are everywhere, with American flags and political banners stuck on the back of pickup trucks and protest signs mounted on front lawns.
I've long lived in and loved rural America. I grew up spending summers on my uncle's farm, and understand the down-to-earth rhythms and verity of life spent working the land, raising crops, and tending to cows, sheep, hogs, and more.
Our family lived in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, and I went to grade school with Amish and Mennonite children. We attended a downtown Presbyterian church. Upon moving to Illinois when I was thirteen, I got confirmed on my own at a small church in smalltown Elburn, Illinois. After high school, I attended Luther College in rural Northeast Iowa.
My longtime friends still include former classmates from Kaneland High School, a dot in an island of corn and beans near Maple Park in Kane County. Some of those friends are hog farmers. Others raise corn and beans in fields through which I ride every year. A few years back when early-season rains delayed crops, fears of losing the year's revenue vexed them. And then, when President Trump imposed tariffs and interrupted trade with China, I stopped during rides and talked with many farmers whose profits were adversely impacted. During that period, reports indicated that in Wisconsin alone, more than 800 dairy farms went out of business.
That's part of a larger trend in which small farmers are struggling to survive. The debts required to run their operations are too large compared to the sometimes thin profits earned from national and global markets. Too often those factors are far out of control for small farmers. Yet during the Trump era, Secretary of Agriculture Sonny Perdue seemed to have little sympathy for the plight of small farmers. A Minneapolis Star-Tribune article quoted Perdue, “In America, the big get bigger and the small go out. I don’t think in America we, for any small business, we have a guaranteed income or guaranteed profitability.”
Watching the actions of that administration and reading about that remark made me concerned for my farmer friends. It also made me wonder why so many farmers seem to support Republican agriculture policies. Sure, billions are doled out in agriculture funding every year. The common perception is that the GOP favors those policies. But how much of that money trickles down to everyday farmers? There seems to be an attitude that the GOP cares more about farmers than Democrats.
There's a theory among some conservatives that New Deal farm policies from the 1930s are what originally drove a cycle benefiting large-scale farmers more than small-timers. The reality is that Big Ag has always been more effective in snagging money than small farmers. In essence, the intent of the New Deal investment in farming was flipped to benefit big-time farmers. The GOP has taken that outcome and run with it.
American politics have flipped in other ways as well. Early last century and well into the 1960s, Southern Democrats were some of the most racist politicians in the country. Yet that dynamic now finds more expression among Trump Republicans where white-supremacy groups, especially in rural areas, complain about white replacement theory and find safe haven from either dog-whistle or full-throated support from Right-wing political leaders.
This past weekend, my wife and I rode our bikes on back roads 75-miles round trip from Dodgeville, Wisconsin to Sauk City and back. Sometimes, that act is an illustration of the American divide all on its own. So many times we're closely buzzed by pickup trucks and drivers angered that we're riding on "their" roads. The law in most states says passing cars have to allow three feet of space between a vehicle and a bike rider. Some drivers refuse to grant any space to cyclists at all. Or else they aggressively gun their engines while roaring by, flipping us the bird, or shouting insults. It's all evidence of what I once branded the "Cultural Shelf." As soon as you ride from a developed area to a rural location anywhere, the tolerance for anything other than motorized vehicles drops immensely. At the same time, farmers driving tractors or other farm equipment have to deal with suburbanites honking horns or showing an inability to separate hazards. There ought to be more empathy all around. But that's not how America seems to be working these days.
In any case, the political logic out in farm country seems a bit fringe-based, or outright delusional. At one farm this weekend I saw a sign that read, "Fix 2020 First." Riding into town we pedaled past an obviously successful dairy operation with a long line of American flags leading up to the farm itself. A large display on the property featured a picture of Joe Biden with a giant sign that said, "Our President will put us in greater debt than ever!" Perhaps that farmer should read a bit more about the last President.
Obviously, the man hates Democrats beyond all else. That seems to be the case with many Illinois farmers as well. We regularly ride past signs in farm country that read "Pritzker Sucks!"
That brings us to the political campaign of Darren Bailey, whose grass-roots support from rural Illinois is his main hope for beating Governor Pritzker. He's seeking to leverage his religion in an appeal to farmers and small-town believers. The Chicago Tribune reported: "He opens campaign events with a prayer," and "The door to his campaign bus is adorned with 'Ephesians 6:10-19." That biblical text states "Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes."
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Religiosity of that type suggests a form of evil is at work, as if those who don't buy the "Christian armor" thing are against everything their God stands for. That brand of religious militancy is exactly what the Founding Fathers intended to quell through the Separation Clause, specifically barring the establishment of a state religion.
We've already seen the outcome of militant religion at work during the January 6th insurrection. Trump supporters carrying religious banners and claiming support from God lawlessly stormed the Capitol threatening to overthrow the republic.
That is the problem with faith-based governance in America. It too often assumes it represents a greater authority than the Constitution or law. While President Reagan and President George W. Bush were each highly praised by evangelicals for supporting Christian causes, those administrations turned out to be some of the most corrupt in terms of indictments and convictions. The Bush regime even supported torture during its invasion of Iraq, which evangelicals supported on claims that it could bring about Armageddon and the return of Jesus Christ to earth. But even those administrations were not as corrupt as the Trump administration, whose election denial led to the attack on our nation.
Yet here in Illinois we have Darren Bailey proudly seeking and receiving approval from the disgraced ex-President Donald Trump, a politician subject to multiple criminal investigations including an attempt to overthrow the United States government. Yet despite these less-than-ethical associations, Rural Illinois seems fired up about his candidacy. This is confusing when I think about the people with whom I grew up in farm country. I know these people well enough to brand them God-fearing people. Yet while I still maintain a strong faith, our beliefs and politics have profoundly diverged. Many of these religious people seem unwilling to believe that faith-based politics could ever be wrong.
Yet the Christian church has been wrong on many fronts over the ages, and corruption is rife within many denominations. That means faith-based governance is no guarantee of truth. Embracing deception in support of people eager to leverage Christian authority for votes and power remains a form of corruption. If you buy a delusion, you live in confusion. It is wise for everyone to realize that some of the greatest manipulators of culture and politics have done so while waving the banner of their faith as supposed proof of character.
Think about it: The Serpent in the Garden of Eden willingly used a half-truth to deceive Adam and Eve into Original Sin. There's nothing so convincing as a person claiming to speak on behalf of God. Beware who you listen to.
Here's a link to order Honest-To-Goodness.
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Christopher Cudworth
North Aurora, Illinois
630.621.8520