Community, Culture, and Protests

A military blockade deterring DAPL protestors going to Standing Rock

It was a frigid wintry December in 2016 as I travelled with my companions to protest the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL), which was located in the Standing Rock Reservation in North Dakota. The protests centered on indigenous sovereignty over the rights of water and land within their territory. Construction of the pipeline transgressed treaty land which has a long and horrible history in the US between the government and indigenous folks. Seeing that the US was ignoring their prior agreements for financial gain and possibly polluting the water, since oil leaks are common, I felt there was a legitimate moral underpinning for resisting this pipeline. As we entered camp, I was struck by the view that welcomed us. Protestors and allies were set up in an expansive ad hoc city. Camps, teepees, and communal spaces occupied this broad plain exuding hope for change. The citizens of this temporary city were encouraged to participate in communal life and offered opportunities to join in daily chores. They could help in the kitchens, maintain the grounds, or help clean up after other campers left. The vision of protest here was unlike any I had ever seen before.

The efforts I saw were in essence—utopic. They gathered to live, work, demonstrate, and pray together, in order to achieve their goal. They were unified in heart and mind and understood that they had a purpose larger than themselves. People participated from all over the country including Christians, atheists, Native Americans, activist groups, and concerned citizens. Folks we had never met invited us for meals and were genuinely interested in our stories. The tribal leadership of the movement provided space for young people to express their frustrations and gave them opportunities to lead. It was grassroots, communal, and empowering of those that are typically left without a voice—much like the early Church. We were only there a few days, but the impact was immense in my own life and practice. The enduring impression I left with was that sustainable impact could be generated out of community. The collective ecumenical organization of peoples from all over the country sustained the activity of protest and civil disobedience.

Although in a different context, the early Church in Jerusalem also enacted these ideals (Acts 2:42­–47). They resisted the economic logic of the world which prized wealth and accumulation by sharing possessions and giving to those in need. They resisted the individualist impulse and devoted themselves to each other in prayer, public witness, and having meals together. They were also committed to helping the poor and powerless (Acts 6:1–7). The early Church did not dichotomize social action and the message of the Gospel and were not just concerned about the “souls” of those around them. They were committed to each other in all of these ways, along with public displays of healing and sharing their faith. In the early Church sharing one’s faith was inextricably tied to a communal foundation (Acts 3:42:47 and 4:32–36). This meant that the community acted as the base of operations for their objectives. Today, instead of participating in social action and public protest that aims to critique our societal systems with a focus on God’s justice, Christians often display antagonistic attitudes toward these very ideals.

The Bible is replete with examples particularly of civil disobedience. For example, the Hebrew midwives disobeyed Pharoah and let the newborn male babies live (Exod 1:15–18); God enacted divine protests (plagues) against Pharoah and his refusal to let his people go (Exod 7–11); Isaiah’s naked prophetic demonstration against Egypt and Cush was in response to those who have trusted those nations over the Lord (Isa 20); Shadrach, Meschach, and Abendnego refused to worship the image of Nebuchadnezzar (Dan 3); the Magi in Matthew’s Gospel disobeyed Herod’s command to report back to him about the location of the child Messiah (Matt 2:7–12); and communal prayer lead to literal prison breaks (Acts 12:1–19; 16:16–40). These examples carry with them the assumption that there is a higher priority of obedience for those that follow God. The political structures in these cases were demanding that all those under its authority follow its rule, explicitly against God’s rule or done to hinder God’s agenda.

In our modern context, large-scale action and civil disobedience can be utilized as a voice against violence/injustice perpetrated by the State, like in the case of the Civil Rights Movement, or police brutality against people of color. This does not mean that everyone present is ideologically or religiously aligned. Since we exist and interact in a pluralistic society, we should reimagine what witness can/should look like in dialogue and engagement with those who differ with us. Coalition building, mutual understanding, and dialogue can all be used to showcase the public witness of Christ followers. Also, our context does not necessitate a zero-sum game between the governments of the world and our faith. They are not in complete antagonism between each other. Within the framework of democratic beliefs Christians can operate their witness.

Regrettably, Christians tend to view themselves as disembodied organisms that ultimately do not contribute to the public discourse and witness. Or they assume that all Christian ideals (as they see it) should be imported onto our government and society instituting a type of theocracy. Both factors are extreme. The former is connected to isolationist attitudes typically based in an apocalyptic framework that posits a hopeless world in which the Church must remain faithful to the end. This preservationist attitude makes sense of ideas like cloistering institutions such as seminaries from universities, and home school from public school. This is not to say that these examples are mis-guided or insidious per se, just that these ideas have historically been connected to each other. Within this framework, Christians have opted to separate themselves from society instead of engaging. So, it should come as no surprise that society views many Christians as foreign and strange, unable to engage in important cultural and political conversations, not because of our “faithful” views, but because we reoriented our engagement in terms of “Us vs. Them," the faithful and the damned.

The latter attitude described above, of a merging of Church/State is connected to ideas of US exceptionalism, the myth of the US being a Christian nation, internalized victimhood (because political agendas are seen as direct threats to Christian existence), and the politicization of the Evangelical Right in the 70s and 80’s. All of which directly affects their political attitudes today leaving almost indistinguishable the difference between a white Evangelical and Republican. Even non-Christians who are aligned with the right-wing political agenda are considering themselves Evangelical in larger number. In both cases, I contend that there is a misunderstanding of our context. We exist (in the US), in a pluralistic society where we can participate in activism and social action, and understand that we are one group among many, which should temper a more totalizing political framework.

All this to say, responsible social action can/should be connected to the organization of the Church, i.e., built into the foundation of community. In other words, I imagine a world where protest, standing with the oppressed, and proclamation of God’s salvation to the world encompass a fuller expression of the Church without conflating Church and State. I am advocating for faithful civic and social participation while eschewing the impulse to view every interaction as a form of persecution. To do so, we must be willing to avoid unhelpful culture war issues, focus on the marginalized, and to reorient ourselves away from “Us vs Them” to seeing witness within our pluralistic world.