
It wasn’t long ago that conservative pundit Bill Kristol was predicting a renewed “Wright is Wrong” assault on Barack Obama. Kristol got his inside information from Sarah Palin and assumed that Number 2 provided a reliable window into the heart of Number 1.
Not so. At least for now.
John McCain has consistently refused use Jeremiah Wright’s “God damn America” as a blunt instrument. Moreover, the Arizona Senator hasn’t allowed his Alaskan pit bull to drag the Chicago preacher back into the campaign. Mike Allen’s article in Politico argues that if McCain’s advisers had their way it would be all-Jeremiah-all-the-time.
McCain has made his opponent’s ties to the now-infamous Bill Ayers the centerpiece of his campaign. This simply deepens the mystification. Analysts across the political spectrum have greeted the Ayers connection with skepticism. Jeremiah Wright, on the other hand, is routinely decried as the-man-who-hates-America by white opinion leaders left, right and center. The notion that Barack Obama’s erstwhile pastor preachers racial hatred is one of the few issues on which professional experts agree (the current passion for Wall Street welfare being another).
Since I first published this post, several readers have suggested an obvious explanation for McCain’s reluctance: he has a few preacher problems of his own, namely, the Revs. Rod Parsley and Ted Hagee.
The apocalyptic theology of many evangelical preachers leads them to speculate endlessly about the mystical link between America (the New Israel), the Israel mentioned in the Bible and the modern state of Israel. The real concern of these speculations is America; Israel, whether ancient or modern, comes in as a means to an end. As a result, Jews are sometimes presented in a highly ambigous light. Taken out of context, guys like Parsley and Hagee come off sounding downright anti-semetic.
But I doubt many pundits are willing to do the digging required to sort all of this out. McCain’s mistake was to take endorsements from men he didn’t understand. McCain isn’t particularly religious and can’t afford to get chest deep in the exotic waters of American evangelical theology.
Barack Obama’s situation is very different. He didn’t just take an endorsement from influential but controversial preachers; he willingly sat under the preaching of a single man for decades. How could Obama not know, detractors ask, that his pastor was a hate-spewing racist? Unlike McCain, the Democratic candidate was intimately aware of the content of his preacher’s sermons.
If John McCain tried to embarrass his opponent with the preacher issue he could expect a little media blowback, but not much. Some people in his camp are clearly eager to play the preacher card. So the question remains, why is McCain so reluctant to cash in?
As I have noted before, African Americans have a much more nuanced understanding of the Reverend Wright business because black preachers teach that God sometimes abandons his chosen people to the consequences of their actions.
Take the 11th chapter of Hosea, for example. God, speaking through the prophet, recalls how tenderly he cared for Ephraim (Israel). “It was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of compassion, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them.”
But when Israel turned to idolatry and contempt for the poor, God’s blessing became a curse. “They shall return to Egypt, and Assyria shall be their king, because they have refused to return to me. The sword shall rage against their cities, consume the bars of the their gates, and devour them in their fortresses. My people are bent onh turning away from me; so they are appointed to the yoke and none shall remove it.”
Jeremiah Wright’s talk of chickens coming home to roost sounds pretty tame in comparison.
Bible students will point remind me that the God of Hosea changes his mind, almost in mid-sentence. “How can I give you up, O Ephraim! How can I hand you over, O Israel! My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger, I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come to destroy.”
Nonetheless, a few generations down the road, the Babylonians (the inhabitants of present day Iraq) destroyed the temple in Jerusalem and carried the people of the covenant across the wilderness into foreign captivity.
How could such a thing have happened? This is the central question of the Old Testament (the crucifixion of Jesus holds a similar place in the Christian New Testament). Instead of a single answer you find a prolonged debate in which all participants agree on only one point: God’s chosen people had been punished by God–Babylon was simply the instrument by which the divine decree was carried out.
African Americans have little trouble believing that a just and merciful God can come in judgment against his most fervent admirers.
A fascinating scene in the 22nd chapter of Acts illustrates the experiential divide separating white and black Americans. Preaching to a largely Jewish crowd in Jerusalem, the Apostle Paul tells the story of his Damascus Road conversion and claims that God sent him as a missionary to the Gentiles (non-Jews). When the crowd exploded in fury, a Roman centurian grabbed Paul and dragged him into the barracks that stood near the Temple.
Unfamiliar with Jewish sectarian disputes, the centurian decided to flog his prisoner until he learned what was going on. Seconds before the first blow fell, Paul asked a question that turned the centurion’s heart to stone: “Is it lawful for you to scourge a man who is a Roman citizen, and uncondemned?”
Profuse apologies were offered, Paul was released from the flogging post and the cruel lash was put away.
Being a Roman citizen in the first century was much like being white in contemporary America. Black Americans know how it feels to be treated as non-citizens. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the criminal justice system. This basic inequity drew 20,000 black church people and college students to Jena, Louisiana.
Abraham Lincoln interpreted the Civil War as the just judgment of God on a chosen nation. The Almighty had damned America for the sin of slavery. This explains why Lincoln bore so little malice toward the Southern States: all had sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
White conservatives see America as a nation chosen by God, “a nation of exceptionalism,” as Sarah Palin has it.
White liberals reject the notion that God has any interest in American politics or any relevance to political debate.
Conservatives castigate the American Jeremiah for suggesting that God regards America as one nation among many. Liberals reject the notion that God bears any relevance to human affairs.
If John McCain tried to associate his opponent with the hate-monger from Chicago few would question his judgment.
So why is the Republican candidate holding back?
Maybe John McCain understands that there is something about the Jeremiah Wright business that eludes the grasp of white America.
I doubt very much that McCain appreciates the radicality of the biblical prophets, but he must have noticed that black Americans have a unique take on the Wright episode. Black leaders have criticized Wright for his choice of words, but they see the “God damn America” bit as one part of one sermon. Wright’s inelegant and self-indulgent response to criticism earned rebukes from many black pundits, but few have condemned his preaching out of hand.
Those who know the black experience in America and the black religious tradition were not shocked by the anger in the preacher’s voice or by the suggestion that we have earned the world’s distrust. It was a hard word, delivered in anger; a species of anger African Americans understand all too well.
However you explain it, John McCain is to be congratulated for his refusal to demagogue the Wright issue. Barack Obama attended Wright’s church because he was nourished by Rev. Wright’s prophetic insights. Aging preachers like Jeremiah Wright are angry in a way that a younger generation of black men and women are not. Black Americans who came to their adult years after the Jim Crow era and the harrowing glory of the civil rights movement can’t always feel the anger, but they understand it all the same.
Barack Obama understands where his former preaching is coming from. Maybe John McCain understands that he doesn’t understand.