Stewarding Outrage

I will be the first to admit that I was outraged.

Virginia’s governor, in response to a bill relaxing the constraints on late-term abortions, spoke about a birth in these terms: “The infant would be delivered. The infant would be kept comfortable. The infant would be resuscitated if that’s what the mother and the family desired. And then a discussion would ensue between the physicians and the mother.” On the surface it sounded as if the governor supported all-out infanticide.

Then, only a few days later, the now-infamous photo on Governor Northam’s medical school yearbook page hit the internet. It shows a person wearing blackface and a person dressed in a KKK hood and robe. Since all the other pictures on the page show Northam, presumably one of the costumed figures was him.

Both of these sparked justifiable outrage. Both assault the value of every human life as created in the image of God. And it did not take long for the calls for Northam’s resignation to flow in from his own party.

While there is plenty that could be said about abortion and racism, I want to take a step back and think about how we steward outrage. Internet news and social media have engendered a new version of pitchforks and torches, a mob-empowering flow of information that has unintended consequences. As followers of Jesus, we need to think carefully about how we should live in such times.

Observations about outrage

Let’s think first about outrage in our day then look at Jesus’ relationship with the emotion.

1. Outrage can be misinformed

Governor Northam did himself no favors by claiming that he was indeed one of the people in the yearbook photo, only to retract that statement later (while admitting that he did put shoe polish on his cheeks to look like Michael Jackson in a dancing contest). Still, the question is open as to the full story behind the yearbook photo.

Regarding his comments on the “discussion” about a baby’s life, Northam’s spokesperson later clarified that his comments referred to a nonviable pregnancy, not the killing of an otherwise healthy baby. Personally, I find this qualification minimally helpful and am mystified that the taking of a life before birth—whether minutes or months—can be distinguished from taking of a life after birth. For the purpose of this conversation, however, let it stand that the governor was not advocating infanticide.

Other recent internet flare-ups highlight the potential of online outrage to be misinformed. What exactly was going on between the MAGA hat-wearing young man and the Native American beating a drum? Why did the young black wrestler have his hair shaved at the last minute to stay within school wrestling guidelines? Our moral outrage over these images can turn out to be justified or overblown depending on whether our limited information was perception or reality.

2. Outrage can be misdirected

The shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson, MO fit into a larger narrative during 2014 of unarmed black men being fatally shot by law enforcement officers. Rachael and I felt a combination of outrage and dread as we thought of raising black sons in a country where a black man saying “Don’t shoot!” can be gunned down with impunity in broad daylight.

Once the full investigation was completed, the “Don’t shoot!” narrative turned out to be false and Officer Darren Wilson was not indicted, as he shot Brown in self-defense. However, this isolated event turned out not to be the real tragedy in Ferguson. A separate 6-month investigation by the Department of Justice produced a report that “describes a city where the police used force almost exclusively on blacks and regularly stopped people without probable cause.” By the time the report emerged the country’s outrage over Ferguson seemed out of fuel, though this misuse of power by a particular police department merits outrage.

3. Outrage can be manipulated

Anger is a powerful emotion but it is seldom a rational one. And there are many groups that stand to gain financially or politically from stoking that anger. When we lived in Arizona, politicians running on a “strong on border security” platform showed TV ads of ISIS jihadists pouring unhindered over the Mexican border into our state. The ridiculousness of the proposition was outweighed by the visceral reaction it produced in many voters.

Of course, this manipulation has taken place well before social media and television ads. During reconstruction, blacks in the South were lynched publicly based on scant, often falsified information about an alleged crime. Racial fears were hijacked to execute more than 4,000 blacks in horrific ways with no due process.

4. Outrage is rarely redemptive

Having listened to dozens of accounts by sexual abuse survivors, I am first in line to applaud the #metoo movement. For too long these abuses have been silenced by the powerful. The voice given to victims is a refreshing cultural change and their outrage needs to be heard.

Yet this movement is still in the demolition phase and has yet to show any capacity for renovation. What happens next for those who have been exposed? What is a path of restoration? Further, do we allow for the possibility that people who have done foolish or harmful things 40 years ago can change and be contributing members—even leaders—of society? This is another topic, but my point is that outrage alone cannot rebuild what was torn down.

5. Outrage creates unnecessary division

Is support of local law enforcement (#BlueLivesMatter) antithetical to the dignity of African-Americans (#BlackLivesMatter)? Do we have to choose between the rights of pregnant mothers and the rights of the babies in their womb? Is increasing border security the opposite of showing compassion and dignity to both immigrants and would-be immigrants?

Listening to online debates, one might draw such dichotomies. But all of these are both/and options, not either/or. Yet outrage militates against nuance, compromise, and thus, progress. Outrage only deepens our divisions rather than finding common ground.

What caused Jesus to feel outrage?

The most well-known expression of Jesus’ outrage was in the temple when he drove out the money changers, overturning tables and blocking the commerce. “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’? But you have made it a den of robbers.” (Mark 11:17) Those exchanging currency and selling animals for sacrifice had taken over the portion of the temple designated for Gentiles to worship. Jesus was doubly infuriated–the money-changers were both extorting the pilgrims and denying them access to worship God.

This theme of Jesus’ outrage over those who would deny access to God unites the other explicit gospel references to his anger. His own disciples were on the receiving end of Jesus’ indignation when they prevented children from coming to Jesus–”do not hinder them,” our Lord explicitly commanded (Mark 10:13-15). When the Pharisees set up a sting operation to see whether Jesus would heal on the Sabbath, “he looked around at them with anger, grieved at their hardness of heart” (Mark 3:5). Jesus seemed perpetually agitated with the Pharisees, but he launched his most incisive invective in Matthew 23, where his first “Woe!” against them captures the essence of them all: “you shut the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces” (Matthew 23:13).

If we are to keep all of this relevant to our modern situation, we must remember the political context of Jesus’ day. The Roman Empire ruled ruthlessly over the children of Abraham with heavy taxation and unhesitating crucifixion of insurrectionists. Herod the Great’s reign was so marked by paranoia and violence toward his own power-hungry family members that the emperor Augustus reportedly said, “It is better to be Herod’s pig than his son.” There was no shortage of injustice for Jesus to decry.

Yet much to the surprise of Messiah-seekers and the disappointment of his own disciples, Jesus did not level his guns at the oppressive Roman Empire. When asked his opinion about “the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices” (Luke 13:1), Jesus used the violent tragedy to appeal to all sinners: “unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:3). His highest commitment was to his Father’s plan to reconcile the rebellious and bring them into his eternal Empire.

What does this mean for us?

How does this inform our response to news about blackface and border security, abortion and abuse?

At the very least, it should cause us to pause, step back, and ask a few questions when we feel outrage. What value of mine is being transgressed? What is my vision of the ideal situation? What action would I challenge the people involved to take?

My concern here is not that we feel outrage over abortion or racial discrimination. Rather, my concern is that our knee-jerk anger–if more influenced by the values of our neighbors than the values of Jesus–will short circuit the strongest emotions we should feel. Jesus’ indignation flowed from a radical orientation to God’s holiness, God’s wrath, and God’s loving initiative to reconcile with sinful humans.

Thus if we take the time to “be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19-20) our initial outrage over a blackface photo can turn into something bigger—a firm commitment to gospel-centered racial harmony in the church that welcomes all our neighbors into Christ’s family. Our strong feelings about abortion, regardless of the veracity of the most recent new story, can move us from political opinions to engagement with one of humanity’s greatest areas of brokenness—our sexuality. Our mission expands from “keep the baby” to “come find your belonging in the family of God” even as we give sacrificially to meet the growing family’s needs.

If we commit ourselves first to Jesus’ mission to remove all obstacles between sinners and God, outrage can become a catalyst for redemption and we can speak words of rebuke in the service of reconciliation.