Ideas

Gen Z Doesn’t Need a Soft Gospel

Christian leaders can meet our desire for authenticity and stability with a message of Christ’s holiness and grace.

A Bible with a soft cushion texture.
Christianity Today August 26, 2025
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Getty

It was fall semester 2024, and I’d managed to claim a table in the normally crowded student center at Taylor University. As I sat studying, a girl slid into the seat across from me and asked if she could join. We lived in the same building, but I didn’t really know her. Still, I said yes. She noticed the sticker on the back of my laptop. It read, “Biblical femininity, not feminism.”

“What is your definition of feminism?” she asked, launching us into a discussion about what the Bible said about gender, the role of women in the church, and the effects of different cultural movements.

Our impromptu conversation wasn’t the only time I’ve had conversations about controversial subjects with my peers. We’ve discussed abortion, immigration, marriage, racism, environmentalism, and more. I’ve discussed eschatology while standing in line for rides at Six Flags.

Generation Z prizes authenticity. We want stability. We’re searching for community. And we’re willing to engage with difficult topics to find them. Most of all, we want a gospel that tells us the whole truth. Gen Z does not need a soft gospel.

Born between 1997 and 2012, zoomers are younger than the internet. Our oldest members barely remember life before smartphones, and the youngest members don’t know a life without social media.

We’re a generation coming of age in a world that does not feel stable. Our public square is online, and we’re used to receiving filtered, edited, and one-sided information. We turn to social media, especially TikTok, to stay up-to-date on the news. We tend to distrust established institutions. Misleading news coverage on politics and social media’s platforming of alternative viewpoints and false information has made Gen Z skeptical. Everything seems fake, and zoomers don’t like it.

Gen Z came of age in a divisive political environment seemingly headed toward violent implosion. We watched as Western culture discarded traditional and natural boundaries around gender and marriage while calling any pushback bigoted. Many of my generation are still scarred by the forced lockdowns of COVID-19 and the anxiety surrounding both the disease and the response to it. And as we look to the future, many of us zoomers are worried we won’t be able to afford the cost of living, especially housing.

And then Gen Z is just lonely. More connected than ever through screens, many 20-somethings don’t have in-person communities they can rely on. For members of a generation whose mental health struggles are well documented, this means they’re suffering alone.

The need for authenticity, stability, and community might be why some members of Gen Z are shifting back toward traditional ideals. They’re aware of the competing thoughts surrounding marriage, gender, and life. Many are disillusioned by mainstream progressive solutions.

Children’s rights advocate Katy Faust summarized it this way: “One reason for Gen Z’s rightward lurch is they’ve tasted and seen how family breakdown has destroyed their lives. They have watched their friends try on every sexual label and still be depressed, anxious, and lonely. They have experienced firsthand the crisis of meaninglessness. They want an alternative.”

Unfortunately, Gen Z has reacted by seesawing back toward secular traditionalism. For example, many young men are increasingly drawn to a type of hypermasculinity popularized by influencers like Andrew Tate. This version of manhood teaches that masculinity is synonymous with physical strength, glorifies the lusts of the flesh, and encourages men to beat down the weak. Young men seem to be drawn to Tate types because they’re an antidote to the culture’s antagonism toward men.

Many young women, too, are drawn to the tradwife trend, which reduces God’s call to an aesthetic caricature, creates unrealistic expectations, and can twist the biblical doctrine of headship into dictatorship. Young women seemingly are drawn to this trend because it counters Western society’s idea that they must “do it all.”

But neither of these things satisfies, because they miss the real source of instability, fakeness, and loneliness. They try to fix the rift in humanity’s relationship with God through our own power.

Gen Z needs an alternative, and the story of the gospel provides it.

When people sugarcoat the gospel in an effort to make it seem nicer, they minimize it. It starts to look like the rest of the hedonistic, postmodern philosophies causing destruction in our culture. For a generation used to wading through edited information, filtering the gospel to make it appear softer makes it sound like another unstable ideology leading to broken loneliness.

Preaching “you’re accepted just the way you are” feels good, but it isn’t fully true. Yes, he will save us just the way we are, but he will not leave us just the way we are (Rom. 5:6–11). When we avoid preaching the seriousness of sin and the consequences of our broken relationship with God, we cheapen Christ’s sacrifice. 

It’s good to speak about God’s love—he is love. But his love is different from the world’s definition of love. It’s actionable (Ps. 136). It doesn’t rejoice in wrongdoing—even popular wrongdoing—but rejoices in the truth (1 Cor. 13:6). It’s sacrificial (John 15:13).

Avoiding the parts of Scripture that are more difficult to preach will only provide people with an incomplete view of God and salvation. It makes it seem as if the gospel doesn’t have real-world impact.

The Bible does indeed address injustice, violence, financial security, and loneliness. Gen Z needs an answer only Scripture can give—but we need to share the whole of Scripture.

For a generation that craves authenticity, the Bible is honest about humanity’s sinful nature (Ps. 51; Rom. 3:23). Old and New Testament authors alike don’t shy away from discussing the often harsh realities of this fallen world. God’s Word is honest about the sole path to salvation (John 14:6; Rom. 10:9–10). Scripture proclaims truth without posturing or editing it first (2 Tim. 3:16–17; Heb. 6:18). It’s authentic. 

Zoomers wants stability? God is a God of order (1 Cor. 14:33). He holds the world in his hands (Ps. 24:1; Matt. 5:45), established right and wrong (Mic. 6:8), punishes evil (Isa. 13:11; Rom. 1:18), and provides for those who seek first his kingdom (Matt. 6:33). He is the cornerstone and the firm foundation (1 Pet. 2:6). He provides stability, and he is stable (Luke 6:46–49).

Gen Z wants community? God promises to never leave nor forsake us (Deut. 31:8; Heb. 13:5). He sends the Helper to be with his followers (John 15:26–17). He loves unconditionally (Rom. 5:8) and won’t let us stay in our messes (1 Thess. 4:3). Christians have a built-in community of believers to do life with (Eph. 2:19). And Christ himself provides community.

We Christians need to share that Christ died for our sin (Isa. 53:5). He experienced the full wrath of a just God against evil (Rom. 3:23–26). God will save anyone, no matter how degenerate a sinner, but he does not leave people the way they are. Freedom in Christ is not a license to keep on sinning (Gal. 5:13). His kindness is meant to lead to repentance (Rom. 2:4). Belief in him is the only way to salvation. Living in sin will result in slavery to sin (Rom. 6). Knowing that Christ is the only way to salvation strips away the mask that obscures the results of prominent cultural ideologies (10:9–10).

There’s a church near me that does a wonderful job preaching Christ’s death and resurrection. But because it only ever preaches those elementary doctrines of Christ (Heb. 6:1), many young adults have left. They want churches that will speak to what is happening in the world around them and that will show them God has a plan for their specific pains. They need to see that these core doctrines—the gospel—connect to their life. A watered-down gospel won’t do that.

Generation Z is open to Jesus but wary of religion. Religion seems fake and disconnected; Jesus seems real.

One of my younger sisters came home from her freshman year at Cedarville excited about Jesus because she realized that her faith is a relationship. Jesus is someone she can spend time with and know better. He isn’t disconnected from what’s happening in the world.

 Now is a perfect time to speak to Generation Z about the whole gospel, even though it’s offensive to the world (1 Pet. 2). My generation needs to know we’re not crazy for wondering why the LGBTQ culture feels wrong. We need to know why living for ourselves makes us feel anxious or depressed.

There’s an understanding among zoomers that the status quo isn’t right, but many are looking for answers in the wrong places. Secular conservatism is just as dangerous as secular liberalism. Without the stability, authenticity, and community Christ brings, nothing will change. Honest discussions with Gen Z, where all of Scripture is embraced—including the parts this world hates—will draw my hungry generation to Christ.

Kenna Hartian is the Habecker fellow at Christianity Today.

News

Died: Chuck Girard, Who Shaped the Sound of the Jesus People

The pioneer of Contemporary Christian Music wrote songs of salvation and worship for a generation of evangelicals.

Chuck Girard obit image
Christianity Today August 25, 2025
Chuck Girard / edits by Christianity Today

Chuck Girard wrote and sang and played from the time he was a kid—rhythm and blues, blue-eyed soul, doo-wop, pop, and even a top-ten radio hit about Honda motorcycles. When he experienced the love of Jesus at age 26, that didn’t change the way he felt about music. 

“I want you to know I still love rock-and-roll music,” Girard wrote in a subsequent song, “but now I have something to say.”

Girard and his band Love Song started to perform what they called “Jesus music” in Southern California in the early 1970s. They became one of the regular groups at pastor Chuck Smith’s Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa, where thousands of young people flocked to hear about God’s love and peace, get baptized in the ocean, and join the “Jesus People movement.” Love Song’s earnest folk rock—with tunes like “Welcome Back,” “Changes,” “Little Country Church,” and “Since I Opened the Door”—became the soundtrack of salvation for a generation.

Girard went on to further shape the sound of American evangelicalism with his work producing the first Maranatha! Music compilation album and solo hits like “Sometimes Alleluia” before turning to worship music in the 1980s. 

Contemporary Christian music (CCM) legends Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith both described his music as life-changing. 

Andrew Erwin, one of the producers of the film Jesus Revolution, said Girard deserved “a standing ovation” for his originality and extensive influence.

“He was one of the true trailblazers of Christian music with Love Song,” Erwin told CCM Magazine. “They were the first of their kind, paving the way for artists like Larry Norman, Keith Green, and so many others who followed. Chuck stood at the very forefront.”

Girard, for his part, said the earthly accolades were nice, but he was looking forward to something greater.

“The real treasure is in Heaven,” he said in 2012, when he was inducted into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame. “I pray that we will all be in Heaven’s Hall of Fame someday and hear the most amazing words we will probably ever hear: ‘Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your lord.’”

Girard died at home in Franklin, Tennessee, on August 11 at age 81.

He was born in California on August 27, 1943, one of Clarance Girard and Dorthea Tomany Girard’s four kids and their only son. 

Girard wrote in his autobiography, Rock & Roll Preacher, that his father was an abusive alcoholic. His first memory as a child was trying to get his father to stop hurting his mother. He also had vague recollections of his father taking him to bars and giving him alcohol when he was a toddler.

Girard’s mother was a Catholic who also believed in New Age mysticism and told people’s fortunes. She told Girard that she had had a vision of him as an adult playing piano on a big stage. She enrolled him in lessons when he was 10.

Girard had no interest in music at first. But then he heard the chord progression of “Heart and Soul,” also known as the “doo-wop progression,” and became obsessed.

“I had no other goal in life than to make music,” he said.

In high school in Santa Rosa, California, he and some friends formed a pop group they called The Castells. Girard’s mother gave him $100 to make a demo tape, and The Castells went to Hollywood and landed a record deal. They signed with Era, agreeing to 3.5 cents per record, split between the four boys.

The Castells had a hit in the summer of 1961. The song “Sacred” was the 20th-most-played song on the radio. The following spring, “So This Is Love” rose to 21.

Girard soon found himself sharing stages with some of the biggest acts of the time—Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis, Bobby Vee, Brenda Lee, The Righteous Brothers—and spending the rest of his time at house parties, drinking without stopping for days.

“I felt like I was floating,” Girard wrote, recalling one binge. “From the day I first got drunk, I attempted to stay in the state of some degree of inebriation as much as I could.”

The Castells floundered and fell apart, but Girard stayed in Los Angeles. He started working with producer Gary Usher, who was close with the Beach Boys and hoped to replicate their success with another band that captured a youth culture fantasy he could package and sell: surfing or hot rods or something.

In 1964, with Girard along for the ride, Usher threw together “The New Sounds of the Silly Surfers” by the Silly Surfers, “The New Sounds of the Weird-Ohs” by the Weird-Ohs, “Hot Rod Hootenanny” by Mr. Gasser and the Weird-Ohs, “Surf Route 101” by the Super Stocks, and “Little Honda” by the Hondells. 

They got lucky with the Hondells, when the group’s paean to Japanese motorbikes, “Little Honda,” charted at No. 9.

Girard was also along for a generational ride. With the rest of the hippies, he discovered marijuana and psychedelic drugs and came to understood his life as a spiritual quest. 

“I believed that I had discovered the key to the secrets of the universe,” Girard wrote in his autobiography. “A dimension of consciousness opened up. … I had no realization of the implications regarding God and the devil.”

He experimented with Eastern philosophies, astrology, the occult, and radical vegetarian diets. At one point, Girard ate only avocados, asparagus, and bananas. 

Rock musician Denny Correll, part of a band called Fifth Cavalry, convinced him that Jesus was at least part of the spiritual answer he was looking for. Backstage at a concert, Correll pressured Girard to declare Jesus his Savior.

“I halfway meant it, but mostly it was to get him off my back,” Girard later wrote. “His fervor was infectious, and he could easily make you believe that what he preached was true.”

The two men and a group of hippie musicians started a commune. They shared everything they owned, did drugs, played music, and talked endlessly about the Bible. One man emerged as the leader and started having revelations that they were supposed to move to Hawaii, where they could live off the land until Jesus returned to establish his millennial kingdom, with New Jerusalem located on the islands.

It didn’t work out. Girard ended up, as he would tell the story later, wet in a cave by himself with a guitar. He returned to the mainland to try to relaunch his career in music. 

He continued to pursue enlightenment through drugs until he had a horrible experience with LSD in Utah. 

“I had no sense of any other living thing in the universe. … There was complete silence,” Girard later wrote. “It frightened me to the core of my being.”

At about the same time, Girard’s new band, Love Song, kept getting invited to Calvary Chapel. Girard, Tommy Coomes, Jay Truax, and Fred Field would pick up hippie hitchhikers. Again and again, the hitchhikers asked them if they’d heard about Calvary Chapel. 

Girard finally decided to check it out for himself. He sat in the back and was overwhelmed by the feeling of Christ’s love. The pastor preached about sin and redemption and how Jesus died for us because we could not get right with God on our own. Girard started crying—deep, heaving sobs. 

“Snot was all over my beard, and tears were all over my face. But, I felt clean!!!” he later wrote. “I had asked, and it had been given to me. I had sought with all my heart and I had found. I had knocked incessantly, and the door had been opened to me.”

Unexpectedly, the other members of Love Song also had born-again experiences at Calvary Chapel. They added another member, John Mueller, and started writing and singing songs about Jesus in 1970. Their music style didn’t change, but now they had “something to say.” 

Love Song become one of the house bands at Calvary Chapel, developing the folk-rock sound of the Jesus People movement.

As a professional musician with the most recording experience, Girard was also brought in to produce the first Maranatha! Music compilation in 1971, which was called “The Everlastin’ Living Jesus Music Concert.” He was not credited but made key decisions about keeping the music simple and evangelistic. 

As Girard told Rolling Stone magazine at the time, the music was meant to glorify God, not the musicians. And he didn’t want the songs to get tripped up in artistic ambiguity. Every song, he said, should present its message in “plain simple language with no deep intellectual vibes. What we’re saying is Jesus, one way. If you want the answer, follow it.”

The Maranatha! Music album was sold to Christian bookstores out of the trunk of a car but sold 160,000 copies and launched a series of compilation albums that defined early CCM. 

Love Song released its own self-titled debut album in 1972 and headlined at Explo ’72, the Christian music festival and evangelistic rally that was promoted as a rejoinder to the hippie movement and its big music festivals, especially Woodstock.

Girard was not the biggest star of the Jesus music scene, but he was very influential. As Songwriter Magazine reported, he “always possessed a rare combination of musicality, heartfelt simplicity, and spiritual conviction,” and “his talent helped bridge secular musicianship with evangelical faith at a pivotal moment in American culture, lending authenticity to what would become a major genre.”

Love Song produced a second album, “Final Touch,” in 1974, and Girard went solo in ’75. The final song on his first album, “Sometimes Alleluia,” became one of his biggest hits. Girard would call it his “first worship song.” 

In the midst of all his success, however, Girard continued to struggle with alcohol addiction. He got to the point where he couldn’t make it a day without consuming alcohol and was drinking vodka in the morning, hoping he could hide the smell.

His wife, Karen, confronted him in 1979 with the help of pastors Chuck Smith and Kenn Gulliksen, whose church would later grow into the Vineyard movement. They sent him to rehab. 

Girard recalled it was a crushing moment when he first sat in a circle of addicts, opened his mouth, and said, “I’m Chuck Girard. I am a backslidden Christian singer, and I’m an alcoholic”—but it was also the beginning of healing. 

After rehab, Girard went to a Vineyard Bible school and studied what Scripture said about music. He grew convicted that he should serve the church and focus his talents on worship more than performance. 

“Music is almost always about worship in the Bible,” he later wrote. “Sometimes it’s warfare, sometimes celebration, all of it brings praise to God.”

He shifted his focus to worship ministry in the 1980s and, according to the obituary written by his family, embraced a “church-centered calling that remained his passion for the rest of his life.”

Girard released his final album in 2024. It is an eclectic collection of songs about pain, uncertainty, and, of course, Jesus. He released it at the same time he was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. 

“Here’s what I know,” Girard said. “I was blind but now I see; Jesus is the only answer to life’s problems; the Bible is the truth and can be trusted; surrender yourself to doing it God’s way; build your life on believing the truth and forgiving and being forgiven.”

Girard is survived by his wife, Karen, and their four daughters, Kristin, Alisa, Cherie, and Nikki. Memorial services are planned for The Gate Church in Franklin, Tennessee, on August 26 and at Calvary Chapel Golden Springs in Diamond Bar, California, on September 20. 

News
Wire Story

AME Clergy Recoup $60 Million of Mishandled Retirement Funds

After the denomination’s embezzlement scandal, a partial settlement returns some lost funds to thousands of ministers and staff.

Clergy in purple robes site on a stage behind two clergy at lecturns.

The closing worship service of the African Methodist Episcopal Church quadrennial General Conference in Columbus, Ohio, in 2024.

Christianity Today August 25, 2025
Video screen grab / RNS

A district court judge granted final approval last week to a partial settlement for clergy and staffers of the African Methodist Episcopal Church after a substantial percentage of funds from their retirement plan were discovered to be missing.

The historically Black denomination has been accused of mishandling the retirement funds, leaving many plan participants with about 30 percent of what they had hoped to use for retirement. The denomination accused its former retirement department head of embezzlement after discovering in 2021 that he provided “deceptive, false and grossly inflated financial statements” about the retirement plan.

On August 19, Judge S. Thomas Anderson of the US District Court for the Western District of Tennessee approved the partial settlements for the plaintiffs—totaling some 4,500 people whose single case was previously consolidated from six—with the denomination and Newport Group Inc., a third-party administrator involved with the church’s retirement services. He said if the case was not settled, the plan participants could “face the risk of rulings adverse to their cause.”

Under the approved settlement, the AME Church has put $20 million into a settlement fund and Newport provided $40 million, totaling $60 million plus any interest.

Lawyers for plan participants and the church confirmed Tuesday that, not including interest, legal fees currently total $20 million plus $1.3 million reimbursement for out-of-pocket expenses—more than a third of the settlement. 

Both lawyers for the church and for the case’s plaintiffs said they were pleased with the development but acknowledged there is more work ahead of a trial set for 2026. The trial would involve defendants who continue with the litigation and are not part of the settlements.

“It’s been a long and difficult battle, and we’re not done, but this settlement is a major milestone in our efforts to collect every penny that these pastors lost,” Matt Lee, co-lead counsel for the plaintiffs, told Religion News Service via email. “It’s hard to overstate what the restoration of these funds will mean for thousands of retired AME Church ministers. While we’re proud of the work our team has done so far, we will not relent until every stone is turned and every responsible party is held accountable.”

Douglass Selby, general counsel for the AME Church, said the denomination was “thrilled” by the legal juncture.

“It marks an important point to the litigation,” he told Religion News Service in an interview. “Obviously, we still have a ways to go to get our plan participants who suffered this wrong fully restored to their financial position, but this is an important series of first steps.”

Selby added that the church continues to seek “full recovery” from “the other parties that were participants in this scheme to defraud the church.”

Early in the litigation, the plaintiffs said some $88.4 million was lost from the retirement funds. The AME Church said the situation was the result of embezzlement by the Rev. Jerome V. Harris, who retired in 2021 after 21 years as head of the denomination’s Department of Retirement Services. He died in May 2024, of a heart attack.

Symetra Life Insurance Co. and his estate are among additional defendants in the case.

On Tuesday, Selby said, “We are going after the estate of Dr. Harris with full force, and our expectation is that if there are any funds there that we would secure them.” Retirement plan participants could then recoup more of the lost funds if the court decides in their favor.

The judge, who has presided over the case for three years, wrote a 30-page order about its complexity. He said it has produced more than 1.5 million documents and numerous claims, counterclaims, cross-claims and third-party claims.

“Perhaps, most important, the money obtained from the settlements will allow the plan participants to begin receiving increased retirement benefits sooner rather than later,” he said.

Anderson noted that the court received just two objections and no opt-out requests to the settlement. He acknowledged the concerns of two Florida ministers, including the Charles Larkin Scott Sr. of Royal Palm Beach, who objected to the amount in legal fees for attorneys, but determined they lacked merit.

“The Plan participants relied on the promise of full pension benefits when they retired as outlined in The Book of Discipline and have been confronted with a broken promise just when they most need those benefits,” Anderson wrote, referring to the rule book of the AME Church. “The Court agrees with Reverend Scott’s statement that the Plan participants have done nothing wrong and has made its decision based on considerations of how best to help those who have been injured.”

Lawyers for the church and the plan participants said if those two ministers do not appeal within 30 days of Anderson’s order, a settlement administrator will transfer funds to a trust from which eligible plan members or their beneficiaries can receive financial distributions.

In a Wednesday statement, Bishop Silvester S. Beaman, president of the AME Church’s Council of Bishops, said the church “crossed a major threshold in the settlement with the Newport Group” and that he was confident the funds would be available for plan participants by mid-September.

“This is a positive step forward in our quest to restore the funds that were lost,” Beaman said.

AARP Foundation, which has been part of the team of attorneys working on the litigation, also welcomed the judge’s approval.

“This settlement is a hard-won victory and will bring much-needed financial relief to thousands who dedicated their lives to serving their communities,” said William Alvarado Rivera, senior vice president of litigation at AARP Foundation. “This agreement helps restore critical retirement funds, without further delay and expense.”

Retired ministers described having to return to work or depending on their children for financial security, which was not how they envisioned spending retirement, as a result of the lost funds. Beneficiaries of ministers who died are also awaiting payment.

The Rev. J. Edgar Boyd, a leader of the AMEs for Justice and Accountability group, said he has heard from retired clergy whose economic situations have been “imperiled tremendously” in the wake of the retirement fund losses.

In an interview Tuesday, he said the funds available through the settlement amount to about $39 million, not including interest. That’s because the $60 million total is reduced by the attorneys’ fees and an additional $200,000, as each of the 10 named plaintiffs will receive $20,000 as a service award.

The parties involved in the settlement, which include AME Church defendants such as its Council of Bishops, Department of Retirement Services and General Board, as well as Newport, have not admitted liability. However, the AME Church has long declared it desired to make “participants whole.”

Anderson said that day is still in the future.

“However, to be clear, the present settlements will not make the retirees whole,” he wrote after stating in his order that the settlement calls for retirees to “recover proportionally what he or she invested.”

“The litigation continues with that goal in mind and with the assurance of Plaintiffs’ counsel that claims against all other defendants in this matter are being actively pursued,” he wrote. 

Ideas

Christian Education Can Survive ChatGPT

As an early-career educator, I was growing discouraged in the classroom. Then a small Christian college showed me a new way to teach.

A school desk on top of computer keys from a keyboard
Christianity Today August 25, 2025
Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: Getty

If you’d asked me a year ago why so many American college students are struggling, I’d have told you a familiar story: Rising tuition rates fund bloated administrations and build bougier freshman dorms. Broken teaching styles don’t give students the knowledge or skills they need. And then there are the students themselves, widely reputed to be lazy, “functionally illiterate,” ChatGPT-addicted phone zombies

There is truth to these charges, and growing up in Kalamazoo, Michigan, primed me to believe the accusations against students in particular. When Brookings Institution scholar Richard Reeves wanted to show just how much the modern male is struggling, he used my hometown as a case study. “Thanks to an anonymous benefactor, students educated in the city’s K–12 school system get all their tuition paid at almost any college in the state,” he wrote. But though the “program put rocket boosters on female college completion rates,” the “men’s rates didn’t budge.” Literally no change.

After a few years of teaching in Kalamazoo high school and college settings, I wasn’t surprised by those findings. It’s not uncommon for new educators to be crestfallen when their expectations meet the reality of classrooms in an age of smartphones and artificial intelligence. But as a Christian educator who connects education to knowing and imitating Christ, I was slowly growing a unique sense of discouragement. Many students are more interested in doing as little work as possible to get as high a grade as possible than in anything to do with Jesus.

But then I showed up to teach at Northpoint College, a Christian school nearby. I expected more of the same: doomscrolling during lectures and using chatbots with excessive force. Instead, by a few weeks in, I was texting every professor I know to enthuse that I’d never seen a group of students so devoted to education. 

AI-use detection was zero on all assignments. The average paper looked better than my own submissions to academic journals. By the end of the semester, the biggest complaint I got in course evaluations was that I wasn’t challenging the students enough.

All my students were impressive, but having read Reeves’s work, I was especially struck by the men. Of the ten guys in my class, six were planning to get PhDs, and the rest had lined up impressive careers or made concrete plans to work at local churches after graduation. In between classes, I started interrogating other professors to see if their experiences lined up with mine. They did, unanimously. 

I had to understand what was going on, so I reached out to Trent Roberts, Northpoint’s president. His account of his school’s success was in many ways what you’d expect from the leader of an Assemblies of God-affiliated college. The Holy Spirit figured prominently. But Roberts also highlighted Northpoint’s unusual pairing of very high expectations with abundant validation and resources for students. 

Northpoint offers bachelor’s degrees but mostly uses master’s-level textbooks, and anything below a C is a failing grade. But the college introduces these expectations by explaining to students that high standards match high hopes. 

In practice, this is a system built around relationships. When the academic dean reviewed my syllabus, his most notable change was adding my personal phone number and email. And where in previous roles I could count on one hand the number of times students reached out for help, at Northpoint my inbox is avalanched by student emails every week. That’s the kind of culture the school has cultivated, asking a lot from students but never leaving them to flounder. 

Roberts’s account of the college’s approach reminded me of the work of psychologist David Yeager, who’s known for his research on motivating young people. In one of his studies, scholars had a teacher correct one group of students’ essays while leaving no additional comments. For another group, the teacher corrected just as rigorously but also left a “wise feedback” comment that said, “I’m giving you these comments because I have very high expectations and I know that you can reach them.” The wise-feedback group made twice as many revisions to their essays as the group with no encouragement.

Yeager argues that young people want and need this kind of affirmation. That’s not because they’re vain, selfish, or obsessed with status, he says, but because recognition and respect are to young people what food and sleep are to infants: “core needs that, when satisfied, can unlock better motivation and behavior.” As Roberts and I talked, his philosophy of education at Northpoint struck me as a Spirit-driven version of this idea. “Our job is to make students feel capable,” he told me, “and to provide them whatever they need to reach our standards.”

In an increasingly postliterate age, faculty may be tempted to lower their standards, boosting students’ immediate performance but undermining long-term growth. But Northpoint is flourishing by raising expectations, asking students to grapple with “desirable difficulties” that build character alongside knowledge—while providing students with the relational and academic support to grapple well.

And generally, young people take that opportunity when offered. “It drives me nuts when older generations complain about Gen Z like they’re incompetent,” Roberts said. “It makes the next generation more likely to live out those critiques like a self-fulfilling prophecy.” Stories of generational decline don’t have to come true.

Nor does the golden age of the university have to be in the past, and Christian colleges like Northpoint are perfectly positioned to train the next generation well. As Oklahoma Baptist University professor Alan Noble has noted, many problems present in secular universities aren’t occurring in Christian higher education to the same degree. With Noble, I’d argue this is because Christian institutions are grounded in a moral and theological understanding of education that their counterparts lack. 

Christian schools should consciously train students to see the prestige, wealth, or opportunities their educations provide as secondary goals. “The end then of learning,” as John Milton put it in Of Education, “is to repair the ruins of our first parents by regaining to know God aright, and out of that knowledge to love Him, to imitate Him, to be like Him.”

Our calling as Christian educators is not only to share knowledge but also to challenge our students to live into their status as “heirs with Christ” (Rom. 8:12–17)—the utmost honor imaginable. It’s easy to blame the downfall of higher ed on 18-year-olds, but if we want students who don’t cheat with ChatGPT, then we need to teach students that getting a good grade is less important than imitating Christ.

Griffin Gooch is a writer, speaker, and professor currently working on his doctorate at University of Aberdeen. He writes most frequently on Substack.

Theology

What Christians Should Know About Shinto

Evangelical scholar Yoichi Yamaguchi on the indigenous religion’s key teachings, its historical development, and ways to evangelize effectively in Japan.

A Shinto Torii gate and paper lanterns.

People holding lanterns at an Obon festival.

Christianity Today August 25, 2025
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Getty, WikiMedia Commons

In this series

Every August, Japan celebrates Obon, one of the country’s biggest Shinto-Buddhist festivals. Vibrant dances set to the beat of taiko drums take place in temples or parks as a form of welcoming the spirits. Families visit their ancestors’ graves to pay their respects and light paper lanterns to guide the spirits back to the afterlife when the festival ends.

The Shinto belief that pervades this festival is the notion that the spirits of dead ancestors have become deities who watch over their living relatives. During Obon, it is customary to welcome these ancestral spirits into peoples’ homes. 

Shinto, or Shintoism as it is known in the West, has profoundly shaped the history, culture, and worldview of the Japanese people. Yet literature in the English-speaking world—particularly addressing the relationship between Shinto and Christianity—remains limited.

To explore the nature of Shinto, its development in the country, its interactions with Christianity, and its implications for evangelism in Japan, Christianity Today interviewed Yoichi Yamaguchi, director of the International Mission Center at Tokyo Christian University.

“At Shinto’s foundation lies a mythological worldview: that Japan was established by the sun god Amaterasu, a chief deity,” Yamaguchi said. “The emperor is regarded as Amaterasu’s descendant.”

Between 2022 and 2025, Yamaguchi published a series of articles introducing key texts associated with Japanese Christianity (nihon-teki-kirisuto-kyo), a movement popular before and during World War II that attempted to wed Shinto and nationalism with Christian faith.

After the war ended, Japanese churches recognized the militant nationalism they had held on to and moved toward adopting a critical stance against syncretistic Christianity. They repented of practices like emperor worship, vowing to serve only God as their master.

More recently, however, Yamaguchi has sensed a growing openness among Japanese evangelicals to positively reengage Shinto because of the rise of contextual missiology and the diminishing of negative sentiments toward syncretistic Christianity 80 years after the war. Some Japanese Christians are also working to counter unfavorable portrayals of Shinto because they think it hinders evangelism, Yamaguchi added.

While Yamaguchi is encouraged by this openness to engage with Shinto and Japanese culture, he believes Christians should also be aware of “the ways in which the Japanese church has historically been compromised by them.”

“Respect and critique must walk together,” he said. “Only then can real understanding begin.”

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity. Read each section below:

Theology

Shinto’s Key Teachings

Evangelical scholar Yoichi Yamaguchi explains why Japan’s indigenous religion lacks a transcendent notion of God.

A Shinto Torii gate and a forest path.

Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Unsplash, WikiMedia Commons

Christianity Today August 25, 2025

In this series

Christianity Today speaks with Yoichi Yamaguchi, director of the International Mission Center at Tokyo Christian University, on what Shinto beliefs look like and how the indigenous religion flourished in Japan.



What is Shinto?

As the earliest religion in Japan, Shinto could have been practiced as far back as the Jomon period (10,500 to 300 BC). It developed over time by absorbing influences from other traditions and religions, such as Buddhism and Confucianism.

Shinto is the indigenous religion of Japan, which emphasizes the nature and worship of various deities (kami). The deities reside in various natural phenomena and objects, and Japanese people believe that all things possess a divine spirit.

Shinto emphasizes ancestral veneration and ritual purity, but there are no unified doctrines or rituals. Hence, Shinto is a very ambiguous phenomenon, and Japanese scholars of religion continue to debate whether it should be classified as a religion.

This flexibility is one of the most important characteristics of Shinto. “First, Shinto arose in tandem with Japanese ethnic culture and has never once been practiced outside of Japanese society,” Shinto scholar Minoru Sonoda writes in Encyclopedia of Japanese Religions. “Second, by modern standards, it is too vague to be classified as a religion, and most Japanese people who have encountered Shinto in some forms do not consciously recognize it as religious.”

What are Shinto’s key teachings?

Strictly speaking, Shinto does not possess formal doctrines. If anything, it is founded upon an intuitive reverence for the Japanese land, deities, and ancestors.

One defining characteristic of Shinto is its emphasis on ritual purity and harmony with nature. But this notion of purification differs considerably from the Christian concept of holiness before God.

Rather than seeking holiness in relation to a transcendent being, Shinto emphasizes subjective inner purity. For instance, walking quietly on gravel paths in a serene shrine forest is itself an act of spiritual cultivation in Shinto. Such practices foster emotional tranquility, but they do not arise from doctrinal imperatives.

Shinto’s focus is not on divine-human communion but on an individual’s harmonious integration with nature. This marks a fundamental contrast with Christian spirituality.

From a Western perspective, this is similar to the postmodern trend of religionless spirituality. But Japan has never fully undergone the modernization that preceded the postmodern turn in Europe. Japan has long inhabited a framework in which the transcendence is not external (extra nos) but internal (intra nos). Shinto lacks a transcendent notion of God, which is characteristic of Christianity.

How did Shinto grow and flourish in Japan?

Although Shinto was central to Japanese identity, Confucian and Buddhist values also coexisted with it. Historically, many Japanese people held the popular view, known as honji-suijaku, that Shinto deities were manifestations of various Buddhas. This perspective was influential in the development of Buddhist-Shinto syncretism in the country.

In the latter Edo period (1603–1868), the nativist (Kokugaku) movement emerged to clarify and purify Japan’s native traditions. Kokugaku scholars such as Motoori Norinaga and Hirata Atsutane sought to strip away “impure” elements, such as Buddhism and Confucianism, and rediscover “authentic” Japanese values like Shinto.

This intellectual movement provided the philosophical impetus for the Meiji Restoration, a political revolution in 1868 that led to the Meiji government’s institutionalization of an emperor-centered worldview, a concept we call kokutai.

Learn more about what Shinto’s historical and contemporary influences are in Japan, how Christianity and Shinto interacted in the country, and what evangelism looks like in a Shinto-influenced culture.

Correction: An earlier version of the story misstated what the honji-suijaku view entailed.

Theology

Shinto’s Historical and Contemporary Influences on Japanese Society

Evangelical scholar Yoichi Yamaguchi shares how Shinto influenced the development of emperor worship and the ways Christians responded.

A Shinto Torii gate and a portrait of Emperor Meiji.

A portrait of Emperor Meiji.

Christianity Today August 25, 2025
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: WikiMedia Commons

In this series

Christianity Today interviews Yoichi Yamaguchi, director of the International Mission Center at Tokyo Christian University, about Shinto’s long-lasting significance in Japan and how early believers responded to the imposition of emperor worship.



Can Shinto be considered Japan’s national religion?

While the Japanese imperial household conducts official Shinto rituals using the state budget today, Shinto was never officially declared the national religion in the country.

During the Meiji era (1868–1912), Japanese officials wrestled with whether Shinto could be declared a religion. Progressive bureaucrats who sought globalization firmly opposed using the term state religion, unlike conservative court officials seeking to preserve Japanese traditions.

During the drafting of Article 28—the clause on religious freedom—in the Meiji Constitution established in 1889, Japanese conservatives proposed to qualify religious liberty with the condition that it would not contravene the national religion. Their proposals were ultimately rejected, and the final constitution did not contain the term national religion at all.

Nevertheless, Shinto operated as a de facto national religion to strengthen national unity.

What about State Shinto? How and why was that established in Japan? How did Christians at the time respond to it?

While the Meiji government upheld a façade of religious neutrality, it established a system in which State Shinto, where people revered the emperor as a supreme being in Japan, occupied a central role in civic life.

The emperor was perceived as a semidivine figure who was a descendant of the sun god Amaterasu, and people believed he could be a mediator between deities (kami) and humans.

The Imperial Rescript on Education, a key ideological document of the Meiji state published in 1890, reflected how influential and pervasive Shinto was in society. Written by government officials and issued by the emperor, the rescript embodied the values of an emperor-centered state cult as a guiding principle for all spheres of education. Japanese people at the time treated the rescript as a sacred text because they thought the emperor, as a supreme being, had absolute authority.

In 1891, one notable conflict between Christianity and state ideology emerged in what is known as the “disrespect incident.” Kanzo Uchimura, a prominent Christian leader and public school teacher, was censured for refusing to bow to the document containing the rescript.

Over time, however, both state and church leaders came to insist that Christianity and State Shinto were not in conflict and could coexist. From 1930, the Japanese government began asserting that Shinto and imperial worship were only expressions of Japanese culture and identity rather than religious acts that conflicted with Christian beliefs.

This view slowly gained traction among the majority of Christian leaders, who thought it would make evangelism easier.

What elements of Shinto exist in contemporary Japan?

Until recently, Japan’s national broadcasting station, NHK, aired a Saturday-morning radio program called Good Luck Shrine Walks (Ayakari Jinja Sanpo), which featured shrines that are reputed to bestow good fortune.

In many Japanese companies, employees are often expected to visit a shrine together on New Year’s Day to pray for the organization’s prosperity. Companies also often maintain a household shrine (kamidana) in their offices for good luck. These practices are considered not religious but merely cultural by most Japanese.

Traditional Japanese festivals such as children’s fairs (omatsuri) are also held in shrines, although these practices have been decreasing in recent years.

Learn more about Shinto’s key teachings, the ways Christianity and Shinto interacted in Japan, and missions and evangelism in a Shinto-influenced culture.

Theology

Christianity and Shinto

Japanese believers must be wary of falling into syncretism again, evangelical scholar Yoichi Yamaguchi warns.

A Shinto Torii gate with Shimenawa prayers.

Shinto Shimenawa prayer ties.

Christianity Today August 25, 2025
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: WikiMedia Commons

In this series

Christianity Today interviews Yoichi Yamaguchi, director of the International Mission Center at Tokyo Christian University, on the beginnings of a Christian movement that sought to meld the faith with Shinto and Japanese nationalism and the struggles present-day Japanese evangelicals face when it comes to Shinto practices.



How did Japanese Christians and churches historically engage with Shinto?

When the first Protestant missionaries came to Japan in the mid-19th century, they taught that Shinto shrines are idolatrous. Early Japanese Christians accepted this posture, and they refused to participate in Shinto practices like worshiping at a local shrine.

But through these repeated conflicts with Shinto beliefs, Japanese Christians began to rethink whether traditional Shinto values, such as ancestral worship and emperor veneration, were truly incompatible with the Christian faith.

The Japanese Christianity (nihon-teki-kirisuto-kyo) movement, which started in the early Meiji period and lasted until the end of World War II, sought to meld Shinto and nationalism with Christian faith. Proponents of this movement believed that God had chosen Japan as the protector of Asia against Western invasion, and some even went so far as to say that Shinto values could be fully realized through Christianity or that the Japanese god Amaterasu was Jesus and therefore the emperor was a descendant of Christ.

The earliest Protestant communities in Japan, such as the Yokohama Band (the word band describes a small group of Christians) and its Yokohama church, comprised individuals who were deeply informed by nativist (Kokugaku) scholarship. Their embrace of Christianity was not a conversion out of a heritage that cherished the Japanese ethos, including Shinto, but rather a reinterpretation of it.

Can you share examples of some Japanese Christians’ reinterpretations of Shinto beliefs?

Japanese Christian leaders from the late 19th century, like Uemura Masahisa and Kanzo Uchimura, proposed viewing Christianity as a faith that was grafted onto “the way of the samurai” (Bushido). They argued that key Bushido virtues, such as honor and loyalty, paved the way for Christianity in the country.

Other Christian leaders, like Ebina Danjo and Watase Tsuneyoshi, were more explicit in attempting to wed Shinto with Christianity. Ebina supported modern values like gender equality but also held a deep conviction of Japanese superiority because of the Shinto belief that Japan was a divinely appointed country.

I once considered Christian thinkers like Ebina and Watase as extremists, but after reading the literature of the Japanese Christianity movement in their time period, I came to realize that their views were not outliers at the time. These attitudes were shaped in an environment where East Asia, including Japan, faced the threat of Western colonization.

This conviction that Japan must not fall victim to imperial powers helped to produce a generation of Christians who fused their faith with Shinto beliefs and nationalist ideals. 

What kinds of tensions or conflicts do Japanese evangelicals face regarding Shinto today?

Our historical memory of State Shinto—and how it suffocated religious freedom during World War II—has fostered a sense of caution and discomfort among Japanese Christians when it comes to emperor veneration, shrine visits, and participation in neighborhood associations that engage in Shinto customs.

However, this reluctance toward engaging with Shinto has dulled in recent years, particularly among younger generations of evangelicals. There is an intensified conformity and tendency to go along with prevailing norms. Even as shrine institutions weaken, the ethos of mutual nondisruption—“Let’s live freely, help each other, and not cause trouble”—continues to exert a strong influence in Japanese society.

Today, institutionalized Shinto is declining. Yet Japanese people still highly prize Shinto ideals such as mutual respect, harmony, and restraint. This worldview encourages cultural homogeneity, making it difficult for people to ascribe to Christianity’s exclusive claims. In this sense, the ethos of Shinto may persist in a noninstitutionalized way.

The emperor, too, has undergone a symbolic refresh. He is now widely perceived as Japan’s moral exemplar instead of a divine being. Hence there is a growing sense of appreciation toward the emperor among younger evangelicals. Many feel less animosity toward the emperor and the role he plays in state-led Shinto rituals.

With this increasingly positive appreciation of the emperor and a Shinto worldview, perhaps Japanese Christians need to be alert and not fall into the slippery slope of syncretism again.

Learn more about Shinto’s key teachings, its historical and contemporary influences on Japanese society, and conversations about Christ in a Shinto-influenced culture. 

Theology

Missions and Evangelism in a Shinto-influenced Culture

“We must avoid both excessive fear and uncritical sentimentalism of Shinto,” evangelical scholar Yoichi Yamaguchi argues.

A Shinto Torii gate and a Japanese Christian church.

The interior of a Christian church in Japan.

Christianity Today August 25, 2025
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Ben Weller, WikiMedia Commons

In this series

Christianity Today speaks with Yoichi Yamaguchi, director of the International Mission Center at Tokyo Christian University, on how Shinto poses a barrier to the Christian faith and what believers can do to evangelize more effectively in Japan.



Christians make up less than 1 percent of the Japanese population despite missions to the country since 1549. Do you think the presence of Shinto is one reason Christianity has struggled to spread in Japan?

Yes, Shinto contributes significantly to that difficulty. Shinto lacks dogma or a prescriptive moral code. If something feels right to a person’s heart, it is accepted as good.

This intuitive approach to religion permeates Japanese cultural consciousness. Japanese people are not naturally inclined to think about religion in doctrinal terms. The idea of consciously worshiping God, hearing God’s Word, and entering into a covenantal relationship with God is foreign to many.

There are also emotional and communal attachments that people may find hard to eradicate. In Japan, family members are expected to participate in Shinto rituals like funeral rites, visits to shrines, and care for their ancestors’ graves in Shinto graveyards. If people are asked to convert to Christianity, they might say, “I can’t cut off my connection to my ancestors” or “I can’t leave my family grave unattended.”

Ultimately, the largest obstacle to evangelism in Japan may be a deeply internalized identity of “Japaneseness,” which is inevitably entangled with a Shinto worldview. To become Christian would be to step outside of that cultural and familial framework. Becoming a Christian in Japan involves a level of personal commitment. It means going against familial and local expectations, as well as tradition. It is never a casual decision.

How should evangelicals approach people with a Shinto worldview when doing missions or evangelism in Japan?

Missionaries have tried to implement models of Christian discipleship from places like South Korea, but they often fail to gain traction in Japan. That’s not to say such models are wrong, but Japan is a culture where religion functions primarily as a matter of conscience. Nothing takes root unless it resonates deeply with an individual’s inner “heart.”

Of course, conscience can become distorted and is not sufficient on its own. But without it, I believe one cannot encounter God, pray, worship, or form a true relationship with the divine. Authentic conscience is not autonomy—it is conscience under God’s grace.

Because Japanese people consider religion in terms of the heart and not in terms of doctrine, a theological reflection on conscience may provide a bridge between the heart and the mind. This would be helpful for evangelism and discipleship.

What assumptions or misunderstandings about Shinto should evangelicals in Japan and abroad be more aware of?

Some devout evangelicals in Japan fear that simply passing through a torii gate, situated at the entrance to a shrine, is spiritually defiling. At the other extreme are those who become emotionally drawn to Shinto aesthetics.

In my Reading Japanese Christianity article series, I observed that a believer’s shift toward Shinto syncretism often begins with affective experiences. For instance, a person may look up at the morning sun and be moved to tears, and from that moment on, that person may turn toward a Shinto worldview, which equates nature with the gods, rather than seeing nature as God’s creation.

The traditional Japanese emotion aroused in such an encounter is called mono no aware, a bittersweet awareness of the impermanence of life—and not a reverence for the creator God.

The key is balance. We must avoid both excessive fear and uncritical sentimentalism of Shinto. It’s vital to understand what historical functions Shinto shrines have served in Japan.

Personally, I enjoy visiting shrines. I ask, “What are the people who come here seeking?” When I see someone praying earnestly at a shrine, I wonder, “What prevents them from coming to church and praying there?” This kind of inquiry is important. Christians should regard Shinto with respect and caution. 

Read about how Christianity and Shinto interacted in Japan, what historical and contemporary influences Shinto had on Japanese society, and what Shinto’s key teachings are.

Ideas

Black History at the Smithsonian Can’t Be Told with Half-Truths

Staff Editor

No institution is above scrutiny, but the Trump administration’s planned overhaul could obscure the work of God in American history.

The Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, DC.

The Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture in Washington, DC.

Christianity Today August 22, 2025
J. David Ake / Contributor / Getty

When the National Museum of African American History & Culture opened in Washington, DC, in 2016, a friend and I received coveted tickets to be among the first visitors. The collection is large, and the tour was emotionally grueling, much of it concerning the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade, chattel slavery, and the Civil War fought to rid the country of that peculiar institution. 

The first Smithsonian museum dedicated to Black history, it does not shy away from depicting America’s racial past, from its earliest years through the aftermath of the Civil War—including Jim Crow, race massacres, and public lynchings—through the heroism of the Civil Rights Movement, in which brave men and women were beaten, tear-gassed, and even killed as they advocated for Black Americans. The museum also highlighted positive achievements: As a country, we have made significant progress on race. Still, it’s evident in the headlines and an endless array of stats that we carry the legacy of the past with us into the present.

How Americans communicate Black history to ourselves, our children, and the world is now under intense scrutiny in Washington, where the Trump administration has announced plans to root out what it’s called a “divisive, race-centered ideology” within the Smithsonian Institution. White House aides have been tasked with a “comprehensive internal review” of several museums, including the one dedicated to Black history, with an aim of realignment with President Donald Trump’s “directive to celebrate American exceptionalism.”

What that means in practice is yet to be seen. But Trump has already said he wants Smithsonian exhibits to be less “woke,” which in his mind translates to discussions, in part, about “how bad Slavery was.” “We have the ‘HOTTEST’ Country in the World, and we want people to talk about it, including in our Museums,” he posted this week on Truth Social. 

It’s not wrong to want to honor the good. But Trump’s sentiment misses the point. Whether told in a book or a museum exhibit, truthful history cannot merely valorize goodness. It must tell the whole truth, preserving a clear and honest account of past events that can be passed down through the generations. If the Smithsonian museums are to be truthful, they will not deemphasize or obscure the hypocrisy exhibited by our founders and governing documents, nor the evil perpetrated against slaves, countless of whom prayed and petitioned God for deliverance. To celebrate the exceptionalism of the American Civil Rights Movement, a predominantly Christian and clergy-led project, requires telling the full story of the oppressive system these activists fought.

Sanitizing these displays will do more than distort the truth about America. It will also diminish the work of God in our history and discount the resilience of the people who put their hope in him. Theirs are examples we need in the work of justice still left for us to do. 

The necessity of remembering history is clear throughout Scripture. After God delivers the Israelites from bondage in Egypt, he commands them to remember it weekly when they observe the Sabbath (Deut. 5:15). God does the same after the people cross the Jordan River, this time instructing Joshua to set up a memorial with stones that can serve as a reminder for future generations (Josh. 4). And in the New Testament, Paul tells Christians to remember the death of Christ until he comes (1 Cor. 11:23–26). 

And it’s not only the good and encouraging history we’re to keep in mind. The Bible consistently records the sins of Israel and the early church, giving us an honest—and therefore often unflattering—record of human failures. Joshua recounts the sin of Peor while directing the Israelites to faithfulness (Josh. 22:17–18). Scripture tells us that Abaraham deceived (Gen. 20:2), Jacob and Esau had a bitter rivalry (27:41), the nation of Israel fell into idolatry (Isa. 2:8), and David committed murder (2 Sam. 11). Examples continue to stack up in the New Testament, which records the disciples deserting Jesus at his moment of need (Mark 14:50), Ananias and Sapphira lying to the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3), and both Paul and Jesus rebuking a fractious church (1 Cor. 3; Rev. 2–3). 

Given the facts of our country’s history, it’s impossible to have a truthful African American museum that tells a purely positive story. Any effort to remake the Smithsonian in that direction would reveal a level of pride and nationalistic idolatry that’s resistant to the truth, Justin Giboney, the president of the Christian civic organization the And Campaign, told me in an interview. 

This kind of falsehood will have real consequences: To refuse to look “at the flaws of our history separates us from one another,” said theologian Darrell Bock. “It prolongs our conflict” and “says you and your story do not matter to me simply because it comes from a different place than my story and challenges me to see the world differently. This erasure is not only of an account of history but of a people. It makes our neighbor invisible.”

But while Christians should be wary of efforts to diminish or sanitize history, that does not mean blind loyalty to the Smithsonian (or any other imperfect human institution). As remarkable as the African American history museum is, it has not been above reproach.  

In an online portal intended to serve as an educational guide for conversations about race, the museum in 2020 posted a chart explaining what it called the different “aspects & assumptions of whiteness & white culture in the United States.” Bizarrely, the chart cited “polite” communication, “hard work” and “objective, rational linear thinking” as aspects of white culture. It alienated Black Americans from biblical principles and the Christian tradition—wrongly saying, for example, that the nuclear family and Christianity (which arrived in Africa long before European colonists did) were merely aspects of the dominant US culture that ethnic minorities had “internalized.” After backlash, the museum apologized

Situations like that “show how the left kind of launders its agenda into what is considered ‘Black history’ and what are ‘Black issues,’” Giboney told me. “So I think there’s something there” to be critiqued, he added, “but not in any way that justifies what Trump seems to be trying to do.” 

Daniel K. Williams, a Christian historian who teaches at Ashland University, said the move to inspect the Smithsonian—which comes in the aftermath of national debates about racial justice and things like critical race theory—is the first time a president has been directly involved in the communication of American history. However, there are some similarities between this moment and debates in the 1990s over national education standards. At the time, Williams said, many conservatives were unhappy that a number of universities dropped courses on Western civilization and replaced them with ones on world civilization. There was also some pushback when history courses gave more attention to marginalized groups, including African Americans. 

“What conservatives said at the time was that they wanted to preserve a place for celebrating the achievements they thought had made America unique,” Williams told me. “The question was ‘Is there something exceptional about America? If so, what is it? And how do we teach it?’” 

Three decades later, these debates have returned, this time pushed by a ham-fisted administration fixated on what it calls “Americanism.” And so far, the results have been disturbing. Two weeks before Trump complained about the Smithsonian’s focus on slavery, his administration said it would restore two statues commemorating Confederate figures. Earlier this summer, Trump said he wants Army bases to bring back Confederate names ditched in recent years. On Juneteenth, which marks the end of slavery in the US, his only comment about the holiday came in a Truth Social post, where he complained that there were too many “non-working holidays” in America. Taken together, these comments suggest an understanding of race in America as one-sided and ill-informed. 

Passing on stories about our country’s sins and failures doesn’t mean we treat America as an eternally unsalvageable mess. Truthful accounts of the past not only demonstrate the resilience of African Americans but also speak to the strength of the American people and what the country can be.

“We want America to be great,” said Quonekuia Day, a professor of Old Testament at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary. “But we want it to be great for all people.”

Haleluya Hadero is the Black church editor at Christianity Today.

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