Is Christian Nationalism a real danger to this country?
The 24-degree weather held many at home as only a few scholars braved the cold to meet in the dimly lit room. Socrates, wrapped in a thick cloak, entered the warm sanctuary, his breath visible in the frigid air. The skeleton crew of scholars gathered around a table strewn with papers, their discussion halted briefly by the arrival of the ancient philosopher.
Heat was generated with the mention of the specter of Christian nationalism,” one scholar remarked as Socrates settled into a chair.
The discussion unfolded, focusing on the perceived threat posed by Christian nationalism and its potential impact on democracy and the upcoming election. General Michael Flynn and others were said to be organizing an army under the banner of Project 2025, with ties to the Heritage Foundation. The question lingered: was this a move towards a theocracy, an attempt to overturn the very principles of the U.S. Constitution?
Recent travelers to Europe testified to the fears stirred by the rhetoric crossing the Atlantic. Predictions of violence in the aftermath of the election loomed, echoing the sentiments of “The Limits of Power” by Andrew Bacevich, who had tragically lost his son to political wars.
“What is this Christian nationalism?” one scholar questioned. “How can it gain traction with such a vast and fragmented base like Christianity, boasting 54,000 different forms of belief?”
The conversation delved into the intricate web of religious beliefs, with a major denomination on the verge of splitting over issues like LGBTQ+ rights. The specter of a dystopian future, reminiscent of “The Handmaid’s Tale,” loomed as the discussion turned to the organized efforts of Christian nationalists.
“I can’t even talk with my brother,” one scholar lamented. “He’s stockpiling guns and munitions to support this cause. It feels like the Fourth Reich kind of talk.”
The scholars pondered the remedy to this rising tide, the opposite of Christian nationalism. Framing arguments seemed futile in a society where discussions about religion, politics, and sex were discouraged. Roe vs. Wade had already been overturned, and education was suffering from the aftermath of poorly deployed legislation.
The challenge of crossing the aisle with the religious right and Christian nationalists seemed insurmountable. Socrates, the seasoned philosopher, listened attentively, his mind processing the concerns raised by the scholars.
“I am a non-believer,” one scholar asserted. “But how do I make myself understood without the assistance of a god?”
Socrates, known for his questioning nature, interjected, “Do we understand ourselves any better when our beliefs are dictated by tradition or dogma?”
The discussion continued, exploring the gap between affluence and the potential widening under such governance. Optimism flickered in the room as one scholar believed that fundamentalism was dying out, but concerns lingered about the imminent threat posed by those determined to establish a state “ordained by God.”
“What language do we use to talk across the divide?” one scholar pondered. An in-your-face approach like Bill Maher’s “Religulous” was met with defensiveness, but hope was placed in Rob Reiner’s new film, “God and Country,” to provide an “All In The Family” appeal.
As the scholars grappled with the challenges of the times, the question remained: What wolf did they want to feed, and could reason prevail over the rising tide of fervent ideologies? Socrates, the ancient philosopher, sat among them, a symbol of enduring wisdom in the face of an uncertain future.
Contributor: Poet Icarus