"I Didn't Move; You Did" (Part 16): The Shift Away From Honoring The Imago Dei In Everyone

One of the things evangelical Christianity taught me was that every human being bears the image of God. Probably everything in this series references this is some fashion: the help of the poor, the care for the immigrant and refugee, the rejection of racism and unjust discrimination, the interest in alleviating global poverty, the concern for the environment so that deadly pollution is curbed, the rejection of war as the preferred way to solve conflict, the importance of honoring the autonomy of people, etc. 

All these things were embedded in the evangelical creeds that formed my life and my evangelical church community for decades.

That conviction helped make me "pro-life" (though these days I prefer the term "whole-life".) I believe human life should be protected and honored from the moment it begins until the moment it ends. But honoring life means more than keeping someone physically alive. It means treating people with dignity, justice, mercy, kindness, and love.

The unborn child bears the image of God. So does the immigrant at the border. So does the prisoner. So does the person with a disability, the elderly person, the poor person, the Muslim, the atheist, the political opponent, the transgender person, the Republican or Democrat politician...the list goes on.

Human dignity cannot depend upon whether someone looks like me, votes like me, worships like me, shares my citizenship, or seeks my approval. If the image of God means anything, it means that human beings possess a dignity we did not give them, and we cannot take away.

That is why the last decade has been so disorienting for me.

Something has changed in significant parts of American evangelicalism. Language and behavior that Christians once would have recognized as cruel, vulgar, degrading, or dehumanizing are increasingly excused—and sometimes celebrated—when they come from the right political leaders.

We seem to have lost something more fundamental than civility. We have lost some of our capacity to walk in another person's shoes—to do and say unto others as we would have them do and say unto us. We have lost not only sympathy, but empathy.

Perhaps it shouldn't surprise us. Charlie Kirk famously said that he couldn't stand the word empathy. Books with titles such as The Sin of Empathy and Toxic Empathy have found receptive audiences in conservative Christian circles.

Of course, empathy can be misguided. Feeling another person's pain does not require agreeing with everything that person believes or does, and it doesn't mean we have to avoid truth and confrontation.

Yet the Christian tradition that has often spoken about orthodoxy (right belief) and orthopraxy (right action) has an underused third "ortho" -  orthopathy (rightly ordered affections). It asks. "What kind of heart am I cultivating? Or, more simply: am I learning to feel about people the way Jesus does?

I am concerned that conservative evangelicals will win political battles while losing something far more important: empathy. We can become the kind of people who no longer recognize dishonor and cruelty when we see it - or, even worse, when we do it.

So, let’s look at how the administration that evangelicals have put into office twice is doing in the areas of orthopraxy and orthopathy when it comes to viewing, treating, and speaking about everyone as image bearers of God.

I Didn't Move; You Did" (Part 7): For the Health of our Nation (2014) and The Seoul Statement (2024)

In my first post of this series, I explained why I have become increasingly uncomfortable identifying as an evangelical. I encourage you to read it so you understand what I am doing.

Since then, I have been highlighting parts of mainstream evangelical Declarations and Statements that highlight expected orthopraxy (right actions) for evangelical followers of Jesus. This will lead into a much closer look at what kinds of shifts have taken place in the past 15 years. So far we have covered:

• the Chicago Declaration of Evangelical Social Concern (1973) , and the Lausanne Covenant (1974)
• the Manila Manifesto (1989)
• the Amsterdam Declaration (2000) and The Health Of Our Nation (2004)
•  the Evangelical Manifesto of 2008
• the Capetown Commitment (2010)

Finally, we will look at two in this post before wrapping up this portion of the series. As before, I am not focusing on the orthodoxy (right belief) part of the statements. I am focusing on orthopraxy (right practice).

I Didn't Move; You Did" (Part 6): The Capetown Commitment (2010)

In my first post, I explained why I have become increasingly uncomfortable identifying as an evangelical. Since then, I have been highlighting parts of mainstream evangelical Declarations and Statements that highlight expected orthopraxy (right actions) for evangelical followers of Jesus. This will lead into a much closer look at what kinds of shifts have taken place in the past 15 years.

My second post offered a sampling of decades of statements beginning in the 1970s put out by evangelical leaders and organizations that examined how evangelics should live.

The third post was about a major manifesto in the 80s called the Manila Manifesto, published at the Second International Congress on World Evangelization in Manila, Philippines in July 1989.

The fourth post highlighted the Amsterdam Declaration (2000) and The Health Of Our Nation (2004).

The fifth post looked at the Evangelical Manifesto of 2008.

* * * * * 

In 2010, the Cape Town Commitment emerged from the Third Lausanne Congress on World Evangelization. It brought together 4,200 evangelical leaders from 198 countries. As far as I can tell, it is one of the first formal global evangelical documents (at least of this magnitude) that begins to specifically address homosexuality and a response to HIV/AIDS. [1]

Aside from the extensive re-stated commitment to orthodox evangelical pillars of faith, there is so much in this statement on orthopraxy - penned a mere 16 years ago - that is relevant to our discussion. I urge you to read the whole thing, of course. I am heavily excerpting the parts relevant to this series, but it will still be a lot of reading!

"I Didn't Move; You Did" (Part 3): The Manila Manifesto (1989)

In my first post in this series, I explained why I have become increasingly uncomfortable identifying as an evangelical, as it has become increasingly willing to excuse attitudes, behaviors, and priorities that seem incompatible with the character and teaching of Jesus.

 

My second post began the process of offering a sampling of decades of statements (beginning in the 1970s) put out by evangelical leaders, organizations, denominations, colleges, and ministries. They are declarations and manifestos explaining what they believed Christian evangelicals should value and how Christians should engage the world. They provide a record of what the movement publicly claimed to stand for, even if evangelicalism did not always live consistently with its principles.

 

This post is about a major manifesto in the 80s called the Manila Manifesto. The Manila Manifesto was produced and drafted by the British evangelical pastor and theologian John Stott. He led the drafting team at the Second International Congress on World Evangelization (Lausanne II) held in Manila, Philippines in July 1989. [1]

"I Didn't Move; You Did" (Part 2): Evangelical Declarations in the 1970s

 In my first post, I explained why I have become increasingly uncomfortable identifying as an evangelical. My concern is not that evangelicalism has become too conservative or too liberal (depending what branch of evangelicalism you are in). My concern is that it has increasingly abandoned a prophetic critique of attitudes, behaviors, and priorities that seem incompatible with the character and teaching of Jesus in favor of partisan allegiance.

Even as I recounted my memories of growing up evangelical in my previous post, I realized that memories can be selective. Nostalgia has a way of polishing the past, and personal experience is never the whole story. So before I make my case, I want to start with something more objective than my recollections.

For decades, evangelical leaders, organizations, denominations, and ministries regularly published statements, declarations, and manifestos explaining what they believed evangelical Christians should value and how they should engage the world. These documents were not perfect, and they did not always reflect how evangelicals actually behaved. Nevertheless, they provide a record of what the movement publicly claimed to stand for.

What follows in the next few posts is a sampling of those statements from the 1970s through the early 2000s. [1] As you read them, I would encourage you to pay attention not only to what they affirm, but also to the tone, priorities, and moral instincts they reveal.

Once again, my argument is not that evangelicals always lived up to these ideals. Clearly, we did not. My argument is that many of the virtues these statements called us to pursue are now often ignored, minimized, or even treated with suspicion within the movement itself.

Before we discuss what evangelicalism has become, it is worth remembering what evangelicalism has said, over and over again, it aspires to be.

"I Didn't Move; You Did" (Part 1): An Ode To A Lost Evangelicalism

I spent 45 years as a proud conservative evangelical. It was my home. It wasn’t perfect, but nowhere else was either. Evangelicalism helped shape my love for Scripture, my devotion to Jesus, my commitment to conversion, prayer, mission, and discipleship. I owe much to people within it.

In the circles I grew up in, I was also taught the importance of engaging with the community and the world in a way that brought healing and hope.

We sent missionaries near and far dedicated to telling others about the good news of the Gospel, often accompanied by acts of service to show that we cared about the whole person, not just their souls.

We promoted foster care, adoption, and crisis pregnancy centers as a proactive way to build a culture of life.

Evangelical disaster relief organizations did incredible work in meeting practical needs in areas devastated by natural disasters.
Personally, my experience in the local churches in my life - Sunday School, youth group, services, revival meetings, potlucks, small groups, community outreach - gave me many wonderful memories and formed me in ways that I still cherish. [1]

The evangelical neighbor who quietly loves Jesus, serves the poor, cares for refugees, tells the truth, honors his marriage vows, and treats political opponents with dignity is not the source of my disillusionment. In many ways, they are evidence that the best of evangelicalism still shows sparks of life.

And yet, here I am, feeling the need to no longer be associated with evangelicalism because of the terrible toll the Trumpification of conservative evangelicalism has taken on its witness, reputation, and impact.

I’m not a grumpy curmudgeon, pummeled by evangelicalism, who now just wants an excuse to throw shade. No, conservative evangelicalism was the Christian ecosystem into which I was born, and for most of my life, it felt like home.

I helped build it. I voted party line most of my life. I participated in the ecosystem. This is not a story about “those people.” It is a story about me and “my people.”

Speaking of “my people,” this series is not primarily aimed at the sincere evangelical Christian who voted for Donald Trump while wrestling with competing concerns and difficult choices. I know many such people. Some are dear friends. Some remain among the most faithful followers of Jesus I know.

Many Christians concluded that one set of policies represented a lesser evil than another. Whether I agree with that conclusion is not the point. Reasonable people can disagree about political strategy, candidates, and public policy.

My concern is different.