I first learned about the theological concept of kairos while studying abroad in Cape Town, South Africa in 1996. South African faith leaders taught me that, as compared to chronos, or time as we know it and traditionally experience it, kairos moments are precipitated by times in which our current reality becomes so pernicious and fraudulent that God can create a moment of opportunity for propitious action and transformation.
As I think about the alarming things we’ve seen in the U.S. this year—eviscerated foreign aid, a gutted federal workforce, tax cuts for the 1% at the expense of Medicaid and food stamps, National Guard troops deployed against U.S. cities, indiscriminate immigration raids, an almost complete retreat on addressing our climate crisis, attacks on media outlets and free speech, and other tactics that mirror authoritarian regimes—I’m increasingly sensing that we are in the midst of a kairos moment. Further signs came to a head this past week with the horror of five mass shootings in one weekend, a costly government shutdown, and an alarming and bizarre summoning of 800 generals and admirals to the White House in which President Donald Trump pledged to dangerously misuse the military to come after the “enemy from within.”
We are not the first nation or the first Christians to face a kairos moment. In July 1985, South Africa was in an even deeper crisis. The apartheid government had declared a state of emergency and dramatically escalated mass detentions, repression, and state violence while cracking down on the media. Despite growing international opposition, the apartheid state was doubling down on its repression. Many church leaders in South Africa, especially in the Dutch Reformed Church, misused and weaponized the Bible to justify the apartheid system of racial separation and oppression. Meanwhile, many other Christians remained silent and complacent in the face of increasing repression, staying on the sidelines of the anti-apartheid struggle.
In response, a group of South African church leaders, theologians, and Christian activists gathered to pen the Kairos Document, an open-ended document of faith-inspired resistance to apartheid. Its authors critiqued “state theology,” which they defined as Christianity that justifies “the status quo with its racism, capitalism, and totalitarianism” and “blesses injustice, canonizes the will of the powerful and reduces the poor to passivity, obedience, and apathy.” They also critiqued factions of the church who accepted the argument that the South African government’s repression was justified to maintain law and order, as well as those within the church who pleaded for racial reconciliation without first attending to injustice.
“We are a divided Church precisely because not all the members of our Churches have taken sides against oppression,” wrote the authors. “Unity and reconciliation within the Church itself is only possible around God and Jesus Christ who are to be found on the side of the poor and the oppressed.”
I recently joined an intergenerational group of South African and global Christian leaders in Cape Town to mark the 40th anniversary of the Kairos Document and the inflection moment it created for Christians in South Africa and beyond to make a clearer choice between upholding the oppressive status quo or more actively and courageously working to end the system of apartheid. In the four decades since, this groundbreaking document also inspired similar documents from Christians in Central America, Europe, India, Kenya, Malawi, Palestine, and Zimbabwe who called their fellow Christians to take decisive action. While listening to the reflections from South African Christian leaders, I was deeply moved by just how many parallels there are between what they faced under apartheid in 1985 and what we in the U.S. face today amid growing authoritarianism.
READ MORE: Apartheid Theology Didn’t End. It Evolved
Though the two nations and the struggles we face are not identical, I see echoes of South Africa as the MAGA movement and Trump administration stoke fears around crime, immigration, and public safety as a pretense to undermine the rule of law, consolidate power, seek vengeance on their perceived enemies, and squash dissent. The Kairos Document critiqued a government that “will not allow anyone to question what it has chosen to define as ‘law and order’” and demonized its opponents as “communists.” In a similar vein, the Trump administration regularly delegitimizes its opponents as “the radical Left” or “the lunatic Left.”
And much like the authors of the Kairos Document, many of us today grapple with the unwillingness of American Christians to condemn the false gospel of Christian nationalism. This ideology fuels the MAGA movement with heretical ideas about American exceptionalism, white supremacy, patriarchy, and xenophobia, often alleging that the “true” or “real” Christians are those who must protect their faith by imposing their ideology on others.
We saw the tug of war between state theology and the gospel during the memorial service for Charlie Kirk when Erika Kirk powerfully forgave her husband’s killer because “it was what Christ did” and was met with a standing ovation. But in his remarks following Erika, Trump callously rejected that message, saying that he hates his opponents and doesn’t want the best for them; the crowd seemed pleased. In the context of our own state theology of Christian nationalism, so often the heretical message of vengeance and hate triumphs over Jesus’ call to forgiveness, reconciliation, and justice.
If we follow the example of our South African siblings, we in the U.S. need to articulate a prophetic theology that refuses to be neutral or apolitical, and is committed to explicitly naming and condemning the powers that prohibit justice. This theology must be rooted in a vision and imagination for a future characterized by dignity and justice for all people.
I know that many statements have been made opposing Trump, many to negligible effect. Despite these limitations, I sense this moment is different.
Now is the time for a Kairos-like statement that forces the U.S. church to make a choice between the gospel and authoritarianism before it’s too late. Breaking through the noise will be challenging: Vitriolic, dehumanizing, and us-versus-them rhetoric is no longer seen as “out of bounds.” We must contend with the outrage machine of social media and the ubiquity of disinformation, among other obstacles.
The biblical prophets knew something about what it means to identify and speak out in such moments. Prophets like Amos, the herdsman and sycamore-fig pruner, saw the oppression of the poorest members of society while the wealthy classes prospered. He witnessed people’s greed, their complacency, reliance on military might, social injustices, immorality, and shallow piety. And he spoke truth to power, condemning the injustice of the status quo while proclaiming a more righteous and hopeful alternative. He warned that “the prudent keep silent in such times, for the times are evil (5:13),” yet he was anything but prudent. He made it crystal clear that God demanded a radical change in the status quo:
Seek good, not evil, that you may live. Then the Lord God Almighty will be with you, just as you say he is. Hate evil, love good; maintain justice in the courts. [...] Away with the noise of your songs! I will not listen to the music of your harps. But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream! (5:14-15, 23-24).
In our present moment, we need to model the prophetic witness of Amos in response to God’s kairos. Yet a new statement won’t be sufficient on its own. Putting prophetic ideas on paper gives language to what our hearts already know but may not have words for; statements can persuade those who have not yet thought deeply about these matters to reflect and repent. But statements have the most power when they motivate faithful and courageous action in those who truly hear and internalize them.
The South African Kairos Document ends with an emphasis on the “need to transform church activities” to bolster the struggle against apartheid. In a similar vein, in the face of growing authoritarianism in the U.S., we will increasingly need new wineskins that transcend traditional advocacy and protest. We will also increasingly need to embrace the strategies and tactics of nonviolent resistance, which include economic boycotts, labor strikes, walk-outs, and more to restrict or deny expected behavior or cooperation with repressive individuals, institutions, or governments. We must be clear that an increasingly authoritarian regime has no moral legitimacy. And this will require some courage and sacrifice: The South African Kairos Document reminds us that “We must participate in the cross of Christ if we are to have the hope of participating in his resurrection.”
I concluded my time in Cape Town visiting the museum highlighting the remarkable life and prophetic ministry of Archbishop Desmond Tutu. One of many inspiring quotes from the exhibit stood out, including when Tutu said in 1989 to the South African president who ultimately negotiated an end to apartheid with Mandela: “We want to say to Mr. de Klerk: ‘We have already won. Mr. de Klerk, if you know really what is good for you, join us! Join us in the struggle for this new South Africa.’ We say we are the rainbow people! We are the new people of the new South Africa.”
As important as political engagement will be in the next few years, we can’t expect politicians or political parties to save us. Instead, we must dig deeper in our faith, putting our ultimate trust in a God who, as our Lord and Liberator, can make all things new. Reversing our slide into authoritarianism will require faith-inspired courage to engage in greater nonviolent resistance, replacing the unjust status quo with the Beloved Community and its promise of an inclusive multiracial democracy that truly fulfills the promise of liberty and justice for all.
If we follow the example of our South African siblings, we in the U.S. need to articulate a prophetic theology that refuses to be neutral or apolitical, and is committed to explicitly naming and condemning the powers that prohibit justice.
Rev. Adam Russell Taylor is president of Sojourners and author of A More Perfect Union: A New Vision for Building the Beloved Community. Follow him on Bluesky @revadamtaylor.
Got something to say about what you're reading? We value your feedback!
