In 2017, Britain’s Tim Farron resigned from his post as Liberal Democrats party leader. Until then he’d followed his party’s position that favored expanding the definition of marriage to include same-sex couples. Journalists and party members, knowing Farron is a Christian, kept asking him whether the Bible teaches that gay sex is sinful. He finally replied, “To be a leader, particularly of a progressive liberal party in 2017, and to live as a committed Christian and to hold faithful to the Bible’s teaching has felt impossible for me.”
Patrick Miller and Keith Simon’s Truth over Tribe emphasizes American politics in its subtitle: Pledging Allegiance to the Lamb, Not the Donkey or the Elephant. It’s telling, therefore, that the United States doesn’t have a recent example of a party leader resigning so as to put Christ above the Democratic or Republican parties. The closest parallel might be Liz Cheney opposing Donald Trump and losing her Republican position and then her seat in Congress, but she didn’t do so on explicitly Christian grounds.
Truth over Tribe: Pledging Allegiance to the Lamb, not the Donkey or the Elephant
Patrick Miller and Keith Simon
Truth over Tribe: Pledging Allegiance to the Lamb, not the Donkey or the Elephant
Patrick Miller and Keith Simon
Do you feel exhausted by tribalism? You aren’t alone.
As culture warriors divide the world into us and them—fracturing families, friendships, and churches—most of us long for an end to the constant fighting. But does a practical path exist? Jesus lived in a culture split by tribalism, but he resisted its allure by choosing something bigger: truth. He’s now inviting you to apply his ancient path to the modern culture war. How would your community change if you became a catalyst for Christlike unity? Rejecting tribalism is the first step.
Truth over Tribe, therefore, is a good introduction to America’s relationship-fracturing tribalism that’s turning neighbor against neighbor and sometimes even parent against child. The problem, though, is many Christians agree abstractly that the Lamb should come first, but then say, in essence, “The Lamb is riding on the elephant” or “The Lamb is trotting next to the donkey.”
Major Truths
In part 1, “How Tribalism Hurts You,” the authors show clearly how tribalism—evangelical or some other kind—ruins relationships, increases anxiety, incentivizes inauthenticity, creates enemies, and blinds us. True, and worth reading for those who haven’t already seen this. I suspect most of us already know that any doctrine saying “We [a nation, race, ethnicity, etc.] are great and others are awful” is sub-Christian. All of us are sinners and fall short of the glory of God.
America’s relationship-fracturing tribalism is turning neighbor against neighbor and sometimes even parent against child.
Part 2, which shows why Facebook feeds of “personal truths” encourage tribalism, has material that will be new to many. For example, Miller and Simon show how algorithms of the Big Tech company Meta—owner of Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp—deliberately emphasize divisiveness to gain user attention and increase time on those platforms, which makes them more attractive to advertisers.
Part 3 encourages us to show generosity and kindness, cross tribal lines, listen, and join an inclusive tribe. All good, but given original (and continuing) sin those helpful changes all seem unlikely—unless, through God’s grace, Christians refuse to tether the Lamb to either the elephant or the donkey. That’s what Farron did:
I thoroughly love my party. So imagine how proud I am to lead this party. And then imagine what would lead me to voluntarily relinquish that honor. In the words of Isaac Watts, it would have to be something “so compelling, so divine, that it demands my heart, my life, my all.”
Unity, Liberty, Charity
How do we decide what’s so compelling that a Christian like Farron should resign from a cherished leadership position? We can start with God’s Ten Commandments. When we’re pressured to bow down and put some other god before God, we need to be ready to go into the fiery furnace, as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were in chapter 3 of Daniel. But what about situations that aren’t as intense?
When we’re pressured to bow down and put some other god before God, we need to be ready to go into the fiery furnace. But what about situations that aren’t as intense?
A succinct aphorism is useful: “In essentials, unity; in non-essentials, liberty; in all things, charity.” Some attribute it to Augustine of Hippo and others to John Wesley. Similar statements came from early 17th-century theologians Rupertus Meldenius and Marco Antonio de Dominis. But whatever its origin, the phrase became particularly pertinent during the Thirty Years’ War (1618–48), when Protestant versus Catholic tribalism became a fatal attraction.
Miller and Simon helpfully suggest we appraise our own understanding by dividing what we say into three areas: things I know I know, things I think I know, and things I know I don’t know.
I’d say the song lyrics “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so” are a good starting point. Beyond that, we should be slow to speak, quick to search Scripture, and ready to admit we don’t know many things. When we act like know-it-alls, a faithful friend should tell us, to quote Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “There are more things in heaven and earth . . . than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
We should take to heart Tim Keller’s advice: “If your god never disagrees with you, you might just be worshiping an idealized version of yourself.”
