By Reverend Justin E. Crisp
I was a Disney kid. I grew up in the heyday of traditional animation with classics like The Little Mermaid, The Lion King, Snow White, Aladdin, and 101 Dalmatians. Their plots always turned on the defeat of villains like Ursula, Scar, the Queen, Jafar, and Cruella De Vil. They were cartoonish in more ways than one. Secretly, I sided with them. In these movies, the polarity between good and evil was so stark, the villains so outlandish, that I think I found cheering for them cathartic. At least it was a guilty pleasure. I don’t think I’m the only one. But it’s worth reminding contemporary Americans, myself included, that villains are fictional.
They belong only in Disney movies. Like you, I was shocked and saddened by the attempted assassination of former President Donald Trump this past Saturday. I pray for the families of the spectators killed or injured. As a Christian, I pray also for the soul of the shooter. At the time of writing, we know little about his motives. But there is a groundswell of recognition that our unprecedented level of political polarization and our habitual demonization of “the other side” have contributed to the environment which made this heinous act thinkable. The Economist reported in 2022 that “40% of the politically active say that members of the other tribe are evil.” That is alarming. One worries this number has only increased since.
As a priest, I’m sorry to say Christians are not immune. NPR ran a story, also in 2022, about two churches in my hometown of Knoxville, Tennessee. The first, Patriot Church, is a conservative evangelical congregation that overtly embraces former President Trump’s political platform in Christian terms. Asked by the correspondent, “Is this a Donald Trump church?,” a parishioner of Patriot Church answered, “I think it is a Donald Trump church.” Another parishioner characterized our moment by saying, “This is a spiritual battle. It’s good versus evil.” The second church, Church of the Savior, is a self-identified progressive congregation in the United Church of Christ. The correspondent asked one of their parishioners if they could see a way for Christians from both congregations to come together. He answered, “If they view anyone who dissents with their point of view as evil or the enemy or of the devil, I really don’t see how there’s any kind of common ground that can be found.”
But casting our political situation as a battle between good and evil isn’t just the habit of conservatives like the parishioners of Patriot Church. A few years ago, the Transgender Law Center and two partner organizations published a messaging guide titled “Transgender Youth and the Freedom to Be Ourselves.” It sought to guide activists in advocating for the inclusion of trans youth in sports. It includes a four-step framework for how to do this, starting with “a shared value” and ending with “a unifying call to collective action.” In between? “Name the villains who violate our values, expose their motivation of getting back into or holding power, and position them as a barrier to what our families need.” Name the villains – villains whose names, it says, are “certain politicians,” “some people in power,” and “a powerful few.”
We are possessed today by a new version of an ancient heresy known as “Manichaeism.” According to Manichaeism, the universe is the site of a great battle between good and evil, with God on one side, and the Devil on the other. Our society has fallen into the same way of seeing the world: a clearcut battle between good and evil, whether it’s Donald Trump versus the deep state, or vulnerable trans athletes versus bigoted, conspiratorial transphobes.
St. Augustine refuted the old Manichaeism by pointing out that the whole world was created by God, and as such, was good. The real battle, he thought, did not take place transparently on the stage of history but on the battlefield of each and every human heart. Every human being is a sinner as well as a saint: an imperfect and terrified and glorious creature. But that’s too nuanced for contemporary America. Good and evil. Heroes and villains. This is the level of sophistication with which we have organized our culture war, fought now with a fervor we could, perversely, call religious. Its battlelines cross nearly every part of our lives, our workplaces, our towns, our friends, our families, and our churches. We will see its consequences more and more until we cut it out.
Beyond whatever obligations we may have as citizens, this kind of behavior is completely unacceptable for those of us who call ourselves Christians, whose Lord told us to love even our enemies (Matthew 5:44). We must begin by refusing to villainize even the villainizers I’ve named today. I believe that the parishioners of Patriot Church are good people. They love their country. Their concern for it is genuine and honorable. Their love for Jesus Christ is sincere. And I believe that the people who wrote the Transgender Law Center’s messaging guide are good people. Their concern for the well-being of trans people, who often live lives of great precarity, is noble. They are seeking to do a good thing. And I think that we can begin to train ourselves out of Manichaeism by asking ourselves which set of descriptions was harder, just now, for us to read, and then by committing ourselves to pray for them.
We should never give up the pursuit of justice, debate, disagreement, judgment, or truth. But the truth is that the new Manichaeism is just as much a lie as the old one was. We need to put the villains back where they belong: in Disney movies.
The Reverend Dr. Justin E. Crisp is priest in charge of St. Barnabas Episcopal Church. He is a graduate of Yale University and the University of Tennessee, and he lives with his wife, Jewelle, and dog, Val, on the St. Barnabas hilltop in backcountry.
