Politics, the pulpit, and my pastoral calling
It’s not easy to avoid the perception of a political motive.

Preaching in a time of deep political polarization is fraught with challenge. Add a pandemic that forces worship to go virtual and the challenge magnifies. Give-and-take exchanges that are a normal part of in-person gatherings are now replaced by an experience that feels unilateral. Pulpit statements can sound one-sided and void of parishioner input. For congregations where most everybody shares a common political ideology, this might not be a problem. But preachers in more diverse settings face a range of politically charged criticisms.
These days, many worshipers seem ready to assign a political motive to a preacher’s every utterance and silence. Say too much or too little (or nothing at all) about Black lives mattering, about arson and looting after the police killing of George Floyd, about the Capitol riot, or about Amanda Gorman’s inaugural poem and you’re apt to be viewed as hyperpartisan or politically out of touch. I realize that the manner in which one speaks on such subjects matters hugely. But in some congregations, even if you preach a deeply biblical sermon on Philippians 2:3—“in humility regard others as better than yourselves”—you should be ready for the charge that you just took an underhanded slap at Donald Trump’s narcissism. I’ve been there.
I’m hardly without conscience or conviction on matters that strike at the heart of the gospel or tear at the moral fabric of society. I’m certainly not afraid to speak candidly to biblical justice and faith-filled hope. But what I’m not willing to do is trade in the gravity of my calling as a pastor for the sake of satisfying particular partisan loyalties. I’m not interested in becoming a political animal.