How I kept my faith in a Southern Bible Belt influenced by Christian nationalism | Opinion

From the ages of 6 to 18, I ended each Wednesday night by attending Bible service at Wilson Ave. Church of Christ in Tullahoma, TN, my hometown. At around 5:30 pm, I would be picked up by the church’s red and gray colored van and transported to services without fail.

When I was 18, we had a guest speaker preach to our congregation of about 30 that night. The preacher had a particular message that he wanted to get across.

“The problem nowadays is that there are interracial families, single mother families same-sex families. The problem is that we have gone away from normal,” he told the crowd.

His inclusion of interracial families stunned me, as I am a biracial person. “What exactly is normal?” I thought to myself.

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I left that night, and many nights after that, feeling alone, as if I didn’t have a place in the church.

From that point on, I realized that my faith was going to look different than most who subscribe to mainstream Christianity. For me faith was doing Tai Chi on the front lawn of Lipscomb University, the conservative Christian institution that I attended. I would practice after a long day of school and feel connected to my body and spirit.

As much as I learned and grew into my faith during my years in the church, those moments of loneliness stuck with me and eventually, drove a wedge between me and the church. Many other former and current Christians my age and older have been dealt the same wedge.

A study from Lifeway Research, a division of the Southern Baptist Convention, showed that in 2019, 4,500 Protestant churches closed and just 3,000 new congregations were established.

Further, according to a 2021 poll by Gallup, only 47% of Americans now identify with a church, synagogue or mosque — a significant drop from 70% in 2000.

Talking recently with the pastor of my church home, with whom I’ve established a father-son-like relationship, he gave me the surprising news that the church of my youth has closed its doors. I was shocked to learn that the place of worship where I got my faith and gained a sense of community was not operating anymore. He told me that the church attendance numbers were down and the membership was getting older so they sold the building.

Through my personal experience, this trend is part of a larger story about how certain people who claim Christianity force their convictions onto others.

Rise of Christian Nationalism

Surely, there are myriad reasons for the decline in membership and church closings. But we can’t ignore the rise of unapologetic bigotry that has camouflaged itself within organized religion.

I worry that some of the closings are related to the growing frustration of younger generations, fueled by a rise of Christian nationalism.

This is the belief that the American way of life is synonymous with Christianity and that the government should take active steps to keep it that way. These beliefs have reached beyond the church pews in profound ways.

Two years ago, a conservative Christian-led pro-life movement finally saw the end of Roe v. Wade, which led to the removal of abortion rights in several states in the country.

When former President Donald Trump feels emboldened to sell a $60 “God Bless the USA” Bible, it highlights a movement that has encouraged a theocracy. The more the line between church and politics gets blurred, the more concerned we should be.

Faith over hate

The church that I once called home might have closed its doors, but the lessons I’ve learned, both welcomed and forced, still influence me today.

I remember being taught by Jesus’ parables that a human being should be loved first, not judged or ridiculed. But I also remember the time I was told that my identity as a biracial person was seen as a sin.

The current political climate sees leaders like Trump seeking to financially profit from the Bible by selling a version of Christianity that is solely meant for propaganda and personal profit. The hatred that makes someone believe someone is unfaithful and morally corrupt based on who they love is the main energy behind this Christian conservative moment in politics.

Faith is separate from hate, but right now the structure of this version of Christianity is built on fear-mongering. It’s hard for people to see the difference. If we are to move forward, Christians must see how this hatred is affecting not just their community but the entire country as a whole.

Faith is not one-size-fits-all. It’s molded by that person’s lived experience. To state that one is a Christian is to accept that and respond to differences with love, the greatest gift of all.