In Praise—or Pillory—of Platitudes

"We're all going to die."

The Internet is abuzz over Senator Joni Ernst (R-Iowa). The commotion commenced with Ernst’s flippant, callous reply to a statement from an audience member at a town hall meeting in the senator’s home state. Ernst was engaging with the audience about the Trump Administration’s deep cuts to Medicaid. “People are going to die [because of the cuts to the aid program],” the audience member called out as Ernst tried to defend the cuts.

Ernst’s dismissive reply? “We’re all going to die.”

Boneyard Blunder

But Ernst wasn’t finished. The next day she recorded herself—in, of all places, a graveyard—“apologizing” for her earlier reply at that town hall event. There, surrounded by tombstones, the senator’s apology consisted primarily of accusing her constituents of being too dense to understand what she really meant when she said, “We’re all going to die.” She added, “I’m really glad I did not have to bring up the subject of the tooth fairy.”

Profoundly stupid—and profoundly revealing.

What the senator’s statement revealed was her hardhearted worldview. It’s a worldview common to modern evangelical Christians. It’s a worldview into which I once waded but never fully dove. It’s a worldview that prompts pitiless platitudes I still hear regularly, like this: “This world is such a mess! Thank God I’ll be going home to heaven soon!”

"Après Moi, le Déluge"

Sure, you’ll escape “the mess,” and then you’ll leave that “mess” to your children and grandchildren and the other eight billion plus suckers still desperately trying to cope back here on planet Earth. But, hey, one day each of them will die, too. And if they get it right, if they repent and say the right words, then, like the pious senator, they also can rest in the certain hope of eternal life in the glorious kingdom of God. (“But for those who would like to enjoy eternal life, I encourage you to embrace my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,” Ernst asserted.) And then, all they have to do get that eternal life is die. So simple, just die.

So, why all the hubbub over Medicaid cuts? Those folks who will no longer be able to afford getting medical assistance just need to accept Jesus into their hearts and then muddle through a few more years or decades, and then they can leave this cursed life and enjoy abundant life in heaven. If you really think about it, we MAGA folks who are cutting off your access to medical care are doing you a big favor; we’re hastening your departure from this cursed life and your entry into everlasting glory.

I’ll Not Stoop to the Level of Politics

In many evangelicals I know, this insensitive, self-centered notion is typically accompanied by a pretense of piousness: I’m not going to metaphorically dirty my hands by getting too involved in politics and policy issues. After all, politics is the last resort of scoundrels.

As a result, these same white evangelicals approach politics at a simplistic, surface level. Just vote for Republicans—MAGA Republicans. Life is so easy that way. Then I can spend my time praying and singing songs about my blessed Savior (and playing golf on golf courses that gulp down more precious water than Noah’s deluge). Republicans are pro-life; Democrats are baby killers.

“But,” I say as I attempt to reason with my MAGA friends, “here are statistics showing that abortion rates do not decrease during Republican presidential administrations.”

“I don’t want to talk about politics,” is the reply I then commonly hear.

Platitudes and pretend piousness make life so simple—for those who already have all the money and creature comforts needed for a cushy life in the here and now. For the others—including those about to lose Medicaid coverage—the answer is simple: “We’re all going to die.” So, hurry up and punch your ticket to eternal life.