Beyond blasphemy: On the dangers of Make Christianity Great Again

This past Sunday, rather pathetic attempts to make Christianity Great Again reached an all-time low.

What was uttered as part of an interview with Joe Rogan by UFC fighter Josh Hokit after his contest on the South Lawn of the White House (President Donald J Trump’s 80th birthday celebrations) constitutes something that is unthinkable in Christian terms.

He stated that “there is only one person more important than the Incredible Hulk and that’s my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.”

Moments later, he shouted: “Michelle Obama is a man!”

A confession of faith and a defamatory lie. Almost in one breath.

Hard to fathom. And yet.

But by now most of us know that this was not an isolated slip of the tongue or a mere untimely coincidence.

This is the intolerable product of the love of money, the pursuit of fame, the worshiping of idols and an unbearably fragile masculinity.

Of all the possible entertainment options available to someone who may have clout and a few dollars to spend, in order to celebrate a significant birthday and to make himself greater, the 47th American president chose UFC.

A lot has already been said about the business and dealings in and through this option, so I will try to focus on something else: male fear. Maybe more specifically:

white

male

fear.

Because this was what was on display. Not only on the South Lawn, but in the broader context of a movement that is now beautifully bearing venomous fruit.

The movement was planted in the fertile soil of the male psyche, where the biggest fear (unspoken, of course) is softness and any possible hint of honest vulnerability or any emotion other than anger.

Can I remind you how some of this morbid agriculture was cultivated?

The narratives of how we need to protect our kids against being/becoming trans, the dire dangers of wokeness (and equality, diversity and inclusion), the naming of people as libtards, the battle for the survival of the soul of Western civilisation and and and.

Those were the depressing seeds, in part the destructive scaffolding of a project that made Trump’s re-election possible.

So here we are.

Jesus Christ is proclaimed.

Coupled with a pathetic attempt to defame a worthy, educated, sophisticated, respected, eloquent (please add your own adjectives) black woman.

This leads me with a rather stark and very judgemental conclusion: both statements were lies.

But why am I even bothered (and more than disturbed in my own fragile white male soul) by this little occurrence on a lawn that is definitely not greener grass?

(Oh, that reminds me, for a teeny, tiny moment of the American green reflecting pool in DC.)

I am bothered because that man (Trump) and his (insert adjectives again) movement resonate with the thoughts/opinions/emotions of countless white male souls in South Africa.

And before you type the comment that many black South Africans may also be MAGA supporters, that is another topic. I am writing as a white male about white male fear. And blasphemy.

For a long time, Trump and MAGA and their rhetoric have resonated with many white South Africans. Many of them male. Many of them Afrikaans.

“He is not afraid to speak his mind.”

“What you see is what you get.”

“He is a true leader.”

“He has guts.”

“He is successful.”

“Hy is ‘n man op ‘n perd.”

And he is followed and adored and worshipped.

And believed.

This leaves me with many thoughts and more than a couple of questions.

What are we really scared of?

Who are we actually afraid to be?

Is there anything we find hard to admit?

How racist am I?

Finally, there is one thing I know: this moment of profane darkness is adjusting the celestial spotlight to once again shine on things that are true and pure and noble and right.

And on a person.

On the Way

the Truth

and the Life. DM