When I wrote my novel American Judas in 2011, I didn’t know I was looking into a crystal ball. The story takes place in an alternative America that has become an official Christian nation. The Ten Commandments have been added to the judicial system. Homosexuality, abortion, and non-Christian religions are outlawed. And a young couple tries to flee the country after authorities discover that the husband is secretly Jewish.
I never thought my dystopian fiction could come true, but I might be wrong. A recent New York Times article reported that former president Donald Trump’s rallies end on an evangelical tone where he calls on attendees? Followers? to bow their heads and pray to God. Some followers wear T-shirts that say, “Jesus is My Savior, Trump is My President.” Online, Trump is selling God Bless the USA Bibles for sixty dollars each. And I don’t need to remind anyone that Trump is the GOP’s presumptive nominee for president.
If he becomes president, Trump’s Project 2025 outlines a plan to remake the government to serve the Heritage Foundation’s beliefs. I’m sure he’s never read American Judas, but this will turn my novel into reality. The Heritage Foundation and their coalition of conservative organizations want to outlaw pornography, ban critical race theory, and protect the unborn, which may sound like good things except doing so would eliminate actual good things like free speech and a woman’s right to choose.
The reason I thought my novel could never become true was because I thought Christians would never let it happen. The way I see it there are two types of American Christians; the first are those who believe in being Christlike. The Christlike Christians take Jesus’ five teachings of mercy, love, serving others, and brotherhood to heart. They share power with people who believe differently because they believe that’s what Jesus would do.
The second kind of Christians are those who believe in Christ the CEO. The Christ the CEO Christians believe just that. Christ is their Chief Executive Officer and should rule all the earth. And they’ll rule it for Him until He shows up. Though it’s a cynical belief that serves their purposes, I thought they still had compassion for their fellow man.
I have since learned that the depth of the Christ the CEO Christians’ cynicism was deeper than I imagined. Kelefa Sanneh writing recently in the New Yorker points out that Christian nationalists are not all that Christian. For them, Christianity is less a religion than part of their white identity. To them, a Christian Nation means a nation run by Christians, specifically white Christians. They want a return to the way the country when they were the majority and had total control over American society. White Christians know they are a dwindling minority and that scares the hell out of them. They see a second Trump presidency as their chance to not only regain that control, but to transform the government so that they never lose control again.
I understand the combination of fear and self-righteousness that white Christians feel. I often felt the same way growing up Jewish in the Bible Belt during the 1970s. Plenty of Christians showed me respect and brotherhood, but plenty tried to convert me. I was proud to be Jewish, so when someone started witnessing to me, my righteous indignation flared up. I felt that person was disrespecting my religion. And yet, I didn’t speak out, even when my public-school teachers insisted students read from the New Testament before class. I was lucky that I didn’t get called on, but one of my Jewish classmates did get called. I don’t remember what she read, but I remember feeling angry at the teacher and sorry for my Jewish classmate. It didn’t make sense. This was America. Why were we being forced to pray to someone else’s god? At the same time, what could I do? I was the minority. If I spoke up, I might get in trouble or worse shut out of society completely.
I should point out that the teacher knew reading from the Bible was against the rules, but she told us she didn’t care. Students were going to read from the good book whether they wanted to or not. Or whether they were Christian or not. So, whenever I hear someone talking about school prayer, I say no thank you. I know what that looks like.
So, while I understand how white Christians feel, I don’t feel their plan to take over the government and force their beliefs on the population is in any way justified. The world they want is way too similar to the dystopia I created in my novel.
The master of the dystopian novel, Margaret Atwood, wrote that dystopian writers are not predicting the future, they’re commenting on the present. That was what I thought I was doing, but it seems I was peering into a crystal ball after all.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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