Review of Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation by Kristin Kobes Du Mez
When I first stumbled upon Jesus and John Wayne by Kristin Kobes Du Mez, its title alone sent shivers down my spine. What a juxtaposition—a figure who embodies peace and sacrifice, entwined with a man deeply associated with machismo and aggression. As someone who had my own disheartening baptism into the world of evangelical masculinity through John Eldredge’s Wild at Heart, I was eager—and perhaps a bit apprehensive—to dive into Du Mez’s analysis of how this toxic brand of masculinity has not only infiltrated the church but has also reverberated through our society.
Du Mez’s exploration weaves a timeline that spans from the rise of influential titans like Billy Graham to the controversial embrace of Donald Trump by many white evangelicals. She meticulously dissects how the embodiment of "militant masculinity" has distorted the very essence of faith and community. Her discussion about how this ideology shuns traditionally feminine traits—compassion, gentleness—and elevates aggressive masculinity is both eye-opening and disheartening. I was particularly struck by her assertions that evangelical "family values" often mask a troubling insistence on patriarchal authority.
The writing is sharp and engaging, reading more like a compelling narrative than a dry academic text. Du Mez’s prose is interspersed with historical anecdotes and pointed critiques that linger long after the pages are turned. For instance, her examination of figures like James Dobson and the Promise Keepers is layered with both critique and empathy, which I appreciated as it offered a nuanced view of a complex issue. Highlights include her candid reflections on the cult of masculinity within evangelical circles, leaving no stone unturned—be it the fondness for MMA or the peculiarities of purity culture.
Yet, as I read, I couldn’t help but feel that Du Mez’s tone, while often justly critical, occasionally edged into a space where nuance got overshadowed by righteous anger. I found myself wishing for more exploration into the spectrum of evangelical thought. While she rightly addresses the pervasive patriarchy, I felt some voices—particularly those of egalitarian figures within the evangelical community—were absent, leaving a somewhat one-dimensional narrative. For someone like me, experiencing a more moderate and multicultural setting in Canadian evangelicalism, this felt somewhat limiting.
Memorable quotes and testimonials punctuate the text, reinforcing its impact: “How one answers these questions will determine what it looks like to follow Jesus.” This resonates deeply, reminding us that the image of Christ presented in popular evangelicalism often contrasts starkly with the sacrificial love he represents. It’s a powerful call for introspection and requires us to grapple with how we view faith in light of cultural influences.
In conclusion, I believe Jesus and John Wayne should resonate with a broad audience ranging from disillusioned evangelicals seeking clarity to those interested in how religion intertwines with societal constructs. Despite my critiques, I relished the opportunity to engage with Du Mez’s work, which has invigorated a conversation I hope will lead to deeper understanding and reform within evangelical spaces. For me, this book was not only informative; it was a catalyst for reflection, prompting me to question what kind of faith I want to embody in a world craving genuine compassion and love.
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