When the Wolves Came

Refusing to quietly submit

Find out just what any people will quietly submit to and you have found out the exact measure of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them…—Frederick Douglass

Today’s post is a collection of a several things I’ve been wanting to share, including info on my next public talk (scroll all the way down for that), and a wise reflection by the Rev. Kelly Brown Douglas on Frederick Douglass’s words, above. So, settle in…

First, we just received a wonderful highlight reel of last fall’s Faith & Democracy tour. If you weren’t able to make it out to one of our locations, here are a few minutes of footage that will give you a sense of things, and a chance to hear some of our wonderful musicians. In these clips, we talk about history, injustice, and faithful resistance:

Speaking of our wonderful musicians, Fernando Ortega is currently part of the Art Music Justic Tour with Sandra McCracken and Sara Groves. Sponsored by the International Justice Mission, you can hear them tonight in Greenville, South Carolina, tomorrow in Tallahassee, March 1 in Charleston, and March 2 in Davidson, NC. (Find Fernando’s additional shows here.) I promise you will want to hear Fernando, Sandra, and Sara. You’ll also meet kindred spirits there, and you’ll be supporting artists producing life-giving art. Win-win-win.

I also want to draw your attention to a new podcast about to launch. Sociologist Ruth Braunstein produced When the Wolves Came, a six-part audio documentary on those inside evangelicalism working to combat extremism.

It releases March 4, but you can check out the trailer here:

Subscribe now on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. (You can also follow Ruth here on Substack.)

And, speaking of podcasts, if you missed our latest episode of The Convocation Unscripted, you can find that here:

And now, for words of wisdom from the Rev. Kelly Brown Douglas, canon theologian at Washington National Cathedral and visiting professor at Harvard Divinity School. In a recent essay at Religion News Service, she has this to say:

How does an aspiring democracy — one that promises equality and justice for all — abandon these core values in a matter of weeks? How does a democracy founded on principles of freedom and respect for human dignity so quickly betray those very principles? How does a democracy so swiftly transform into an anti-democracy movement?

Since President Donald Trump took office last month, the barrage of executive orders, defunding of congressionally instituted agencies and firings of federal staffers have seemed more aimed at overwhelming those opposed to him rather than making constitutional sense. They represent a set of values that dishonor our democracy and our humanity.

At the heart of this shift lies a deep fear — fear for one’s status, livelihood and well-being that becomes the seedbed for radical solutions. But fear alone does not explain how such rapid undermining of a democracy occurs.

Recently, I was reminded of a powerful observation by the abolitionist Frederick Douglass, when he spoke in 1857 at Canandaigua, New York, on the 23^rd anniversary of the emancipation of the enslaved people of West India. “Find out just what any people will quietly submit to and you have found out the exact measure of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them … ”

In the speech, Douglass urged his audience to fight for the freedom, the justice and the democracy they wanted to see. At the time, the fight was for the abolition of slavery. Douglass stressed the importance of resistance to injustice and the need for people to actively challenge and confront oppression, rather than passively accept it.

The critical question, then, is not simply about the state of our democracy — its laws, policies or institutions — but about how much we, as individuals, are willing to tolerate the injustice that erodes the very fabric of our government and society. The collapse of a democracy and its promised freedoms depends on how much injustice its people are willing to endure.

The measure of what we tolerate is, in fact, the measure of our very humanity. When injustice is allowed to persist, it dehumanizes not only those subjected to it, but also those who stand and watch it happen. This is what’s truly at stake: the erosion of our collective humanity, whether we are the victims of a particular injustice or the passive bystanders…

At its core, the essence of our humanity is reflected in our capacity to empathize with others, to see ourselves in the other, and the other as we see ourselves. Our humanity is tested when we are faced with the choice to withhold from another that which we would never want withheld from ourselves: respect, safety, livelihood and care.

As long as we tolerate the trampling of basic human rights and withholding of human decency from others, we betray our shared humanity. The capacity for empathy and compassion is what binds us together. When we turn away from the suffering of others, when we tolerate indecency, we turn away from our own humanity.

If we truly wish to protect democracy and freedom, we must be uncompromising in honoring the inherent dignity of every human being — and especially that of those who are marginalized and minoritized in our society. This means refusing to stand on the sidelines when the well-being, livelihood and very existence of another is threatened — by way of orders, policies, actions or words.

Throughout history, dehumanization has often been justified by appeals to political expediency, governmental efficacy and even religious rhetoric. Some argue that Christianity is under attack in our society, and in some ways, they are right. Christianity is under attack — not by secularism or discrimination from outside forces — but by the very forces that misuse it as a “sacred canopy” to legitimize actions that trample over the well-being of others.

To ignore the struggles of immigrants, to dismiss the histories of others and to deny the very existence of trans and nonbinary human beings betrays the spirit of Christianity and the teachings of Jesus, who calls us to love one another as God so loves us all.

Faith communities, which profess a commitment to honoring the “sacred dignity of all human beings,” must take the lead in this endeavor. Ultimately, the foundation of our democracy rests on individuals who refuse to forsake the core of who we are — our shared humanity, which can never coexist with injustice. How much of our humanity are we willing to relinquish? The answer to that question is yet to be determined.

Finally, on April 3 I’ll be speaking at St. Mary’s College in Notre Dame, Indiana. The talk is at 7pm. This will be my first major talk (aside from academic papers) I’ve given since the election. I’m as curious as you are what I’ll have to say. A lot has happened, and a lot more can happen between now and then…

In the meantime, thank you all for reading and commenting, and thank you to those who have become financial supporters, too. This support helps me keep doing what I’m doing, even as it feels more precarious by the hour.