Recently January 6th ticked by on our calendars. I can’t imagine any reader wasn’t reminded of that through digital media, print publications, or casual remarks by people. In the year since the events at the Capitol, journalists and politicians have created a cottage industry of revisiting that day. Some of it is useful and germane to the historical record. Some of it strikes me as hyperbolic and unhelpful. And then there’s the other stuff—the commentary and opinions whose actual validity will only gradually unfold. Such is the nature of human knowledge.
Most historical and political judgments are provisional. Just read the news coverage surrounding almost all major historical events, and you’ll find that it takes time to wade through the “fog of war,” a phrase David French memorably used some time ago to refer to the confusion surrounding the early days of the pandemic.
In a polarized social and political environment, what might the church offer our neighbors and fellow citizens? Intentional patience and intellectual humility.
Intentional Patience
Patience isn’t merely a virtue; it’s a choice. And because it’s a choice, it’s also an act of obedience. When it comes to the election of 2020, January 6th, and the accompanying reactions (e.g., the January 6 Select Committee), temperatures soar. There aren’t merely competing narratives surrounding what happened on this day. But new information is often coming to light, which colors how we evaluate this event. In our 24/7 media-business environment, this is especially true.
A commitment to patience isn’t abdicating our responsibility to the truth. It’s certainly not accepting the postmodern myth that all truth is relative and/or simply an exercise in power, despite what many politicians on both sides of the aisle increasingly think. Rather, a commitment to patience is believing that time has a way of yielding perspective. Intentional patience assumes that rushing to the harshest judgments against our political opponents raises the temperature, often leading to the worst policy outcomes, not better ones. And being patient reflects humility about how confident we should be regarding our initial conclusions drawn from particular events.
Intellectual Humility
In recent years, many authors have written eloquently about the need to restore civic graciousness and decorum. Among them are Arthur Brooks, David Brooks, Bill Haslam, Andrew Sullivan, and Peter Wehner. By “intellectual humility,” I refer to the fact that Christians enter the public square as people shaped by the same grace that has saved us. They believe that without God’s grace shown in the sacrificial-substitutionary death of Jesus, they would stand condemned, hurtling toward an eternal hell. This is assuredly not the destiny, however, of those who repent of their sins and trust in Him.
Unfortunately, we sometimes forget this once we step outside the church building. And it’s not even that we simply forget; our problem is more complex.
Imagine the Christian football coach at the local high school. He knows that shouting in practice or during a game is appropriate. It fits the nature of leading young men amid the roar of the crowd and the game. Yet the same coach realizes that sitting around the family dinner table redefines the appropriate volume and communication techniques for that setting.
Unlike our coach, Christians sometimes assume that in political matters, gentleness, self-control, and humility are exactly what first century Romans thought they were: weakness. Thus, we become two different people. Kind and humble words in Sunday School, but fierce and adversarial ones everywhere else. And we dare not blame social media for this, despite how problematic it can be. We need only look in the mirror of the Word. That mirror reveals hearts that sometimes fear being wrong more than anything.
Of course, intellectual humility (a prerequisite for civic humility) presupposes that we’re likely wrong about some things. We’re even willing to acknowledge it when we are! This doesn’t mean that we lose our grasp of all convictions, whether they be biblical ones about sexuality, for instance, or civic ones such as the rule of law. But civic humility coupled with intentional patience could lower the temperature in our political environment, making it easier to have good faith discussions about real problems, threats, and opportunities. Moreover, it would augment the church’s witness in a moment when social trust is at all-time lows for all major institutions.
A Final Word about Words
Knowing how to best describe what happened on January 6th has been a political football. The word bandied about the most has been “insurrection” or “coup.” Less hyperbolic words like “attack,” “riot,” and “siege” are also used. And then some have gone the other direction, foolishly describing it as “just another day.”
Words are slippery. Are we describing something the way such events have been described in the past? Are we using words that intentionally inflate the significance of something to make it more interesting or scandalous, or words that intentionally minimize a thing, making it less serious or damning?
I want to suggest that Christian patience and humility will seek to look at a matter comprehensively, carefully, and conscientiously. As Colin Cowherd often says, “We need to focus on getting it right, not being right.” Too often we quickly double-down on opinions because they’re black-and-white or comfortable, instead of considering other insights and new information. There are reasons why we don’t always do this (which I’ll forgo exploring here). But hopefully in 2022 Christians will double-down on cultivating and demonstrating patience and humility, whether in Sunday School, online, or in the School Board meeting.