This past Sunday, I took a risk. I felt called to preach on the intersection of faith & politics, weaving together a discourse on Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2, with grand statements on our relationship to government, identity politics, and the like. But it occurred to me that I would rather hear where your hearts and minds are. So instead, after leading a meditation on a portion of Peter’s letter, I opened up the floor for questions. I was simply astounded and enlivened by your thoughtful and honest responses. In fact, there were so many good questions brought up, I wasn’t able to get to half of them in the time allotted.
This next series of blogs will seek to flesh out a couple of the answers I gave, while addressing some of the questions we didn’t get to. It is important to note that there is not one way to think about a Christian stance on politics; here I will merely offer some of my perspective that I have found most helpful. I will also try to offer some reading material that has shaped my posture as I continue to do the good work of being a Kingdom citizen first-and-foremost.
I have tried to organize the questions into a few categories. First, I will address what it means to have a Kingdom-first theology. Then, I will delve more into civil discourse and engagement in the political sphere. Finally, I will take time to examine the pastoral task of how we engage with others who don’t share our convictions. I welcome any further questions you may have. You can email me at ryan@citybeautiful.ch .
You can find the Q+A on our podcast by clicking here.
KINGDOM-FIRST THEOLOGY
Was Jesus political? How so?
In a word - yes.
When people ask me what the Gospel is, I tend to point them to the first line Mark’s account: “The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God…” and Matthew 4:17: “From that time on Jesus began to preach, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.’” Both these verses are rife with political language - “messiah” means “king” for example - which, in their first century context would imply “Jesus is lord, and Caesar is not”. The declaration of the good news about this king and his coming kingdom is the inauguration of a radical alternative to the kingdoms of the world. This is intensely political; it is, after all, part of what got Jesus killed by the State.
The dogged prevalence of gnostic dualism in Christian thought has prevented us from seeing the political connotations of the Gospel, in that we think Jesus’ primary message was how to get to heaven when we die, rather than the indwelling of a new reality as God rescues and reorders the world. Furthermore, we’re turned off to the political message of Jesus because we see politics as a dirty word. This is often because we have been robbed of the imagination necessary to break out of our current political reality - we usually hear “politics” and think “partisan”. We only think of Jesus’ words and deeds in the categories of progressive/conservative, left/right, Republican/Democrat.
Jesus both spoke truth to power structures (John 19) and offered a new vision for humanity. He wasn’t a mere revolutionary like so many of the other messiahs who popped up in the first century to defeat the Roman overlords and re-establish the independent Jewish nation. He called humanity back to the kingship of God in a way that transcended national borders and governments and law systems. Too often our political inclinations seek to domesticate the image of Jesus for our partisan agendas. The adjectives we attach to the word “Christian” - whether progressive or conservative - usually betray where our true allegiances lie. The politics of Jesus, however, cannot be easily coopted by human institutions.
Jesus says we should give to Caesar what is Caesar’s (Matthew 22:15-22). In a world where we don't live under a totalitarian empire but in a democratic republic, what civic obligations do we owe to our Cesar beyond paying taxes, if any? In other words, how do we translate Jesus' admonition to our current context?
It’s important to recognize there are no Biblical parallels to living in a democracy. This seems obvious, but it’s a powerful shift in how we read Jesus, or Peter’s word to “honor the emperor” (1 Pt. 2:13-17), or Paul’s similar line to “be subject to the governing authorities” (Romans 13:1).
Caesar’s coins were inscribed with his image and phrases like “the son of God” or “high priest” - blasphemy for the Jews of Jesus’ day. It would elicit disgust. Jesus’ response to the trap the Pharisees were trying to set for him was to show how Caesar could have black his own image, but that which is the image of God - human beings! - belonged to God alone. His challenge to them, and to us, is consider which kingdom we truly belong to.
So yes, we pay taxes, and the ways in which the powers use those taxes is up to them. But in terms of everything else we are, we are allegiant to Jesus’ kingdom first. Our civic engagement, then, is to advocate for other image bearers, even “caesar himself”, which is what it means to honor the emperor. Our conduct speaks volumes to our call to be “residents aliens” and “ambassadors”. How we engage is just as important as what we say or do.
Does Satan have power over the halls of political power?
Scripture implies the satan has power over the kingdoms of the earth (Matthew 4:9) as “the god of this world” (2 Cor. 4:4). Paul tells us our struggle is “not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph. 6:12).
To answer the question, we near a clear understanding of who or what the satan is. Satan is a parasitic embodiment of evil. He does not “exist” like you and I exist; rather, his existence is bound to a host that can give him power. If the spirit of Jesus is one of advocacy, the spirit of the satan is accusation. He comes to steal, kill, and destroy.
So we see the Unholy Trinity of the flesh, the enemy, and the world conspiring against the kingdom of God. In a bid for power and control, governments can open themselves to the influence of the satanic forces. This is tremendously important to note because submission to governing authorities does not mean that God gives them carte blanche to do what they want, even in God’s name; all governors will be judged by King Jesus in the end (Is. 9, or the end of Revelation). In our own country, I have problematically seen the call for submission (Rom. 13) manipulated to prop up whomever sits in the White House, but if we take that poisonous theology to it’s logical conclusion, we must assume that God approves of every world leader, even the tyrants and despots.
One of the most amazing displays of God’s sovereignty is God’s ability to use evil to combat evil. We see it throughout the scriptures, that God can still work through brokenness to accomplish God’s purposes - whether its foreign governments in the Old Testament or the deception of Judas in the New.
It is important to note that Jesus was offered the fast track to governmental authority by the satan (Mattew 4:9), but rejected it, knowing that the only way to defeat the forces of evil and establish the kingdom was through his death and resurrection. I lament that so many in the Christian household, especially in the evangelical movement, have not taken that story seriously. We give something up and are easily wooed by the lies of the enemy when we seek a fast track to political power in the name of God.
What is the difference between a healthy political involvement as a citizen of God’s kingdom and also a (temporary) citizen of the USA, and a scary dominionist type of Christian nationalism?
I’ve grown up hearing about the 7 Mountains of Society and how Christians are meant to have the most influence in every sphere. Is that theologically a safe perspective, and how much of a priority should “influencing a nation” be to Followers of the Way?
First, a history lesson.
For the first 300 years of its existence, Christianity was seen as an odd branching of Judaism, seen as an existential threat to both the Jewish establishment and the Roman Empire. It was genuinely a persecuted people group, but as the Empire tried to quash this new Way it spread all the more rapidly; Tertullian, a 2nd century theologian, said “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church”. However, this relationship to earthly authorities shifted dramatically in the 300’s when the Emperor Constantine, supposedly through a vision on the eve of battle, established Christianity as the state religion (although he himself reportedly waited until his death bed to be baptized). All of a sudden everyone in the Roman Empire was Christian by default. This began centuries of state religion that propped up the agenda of the government.
After the Enlightenment and the separation of Church and State (especially here in the United States) dominionism became something of a constantinianism 2.0. Some Christians believe that, in order to establish the kingdom of God on earth, they need to exercise influence on the sevens mountains of culture (family, religion, education, media, entertainment, business and government). Once we are in control of these specific arenas we can enact “Christian” policies and establish a Christian nation. This has not gone well.
The Church has always been her best when she does not seek to take power in these spheres of culture, but rather to be the “shining city on a hill” (Matthew 5), an society gathered around the teachings of Jesus that demonstrates an alternative to the societies of the earth. This is why Peter calls us “resident aliens” and Paul speaks of us being “the colony of heaven”. My beloved theologian Stanley Hauerwas puts it this way:
“The most creative social strategy we have to offer is the church. Here we show the world a manner of life the world can never achieve through social coercion or governmental action. We serve the world by showing it something that it is not, namely, a place where God is forming a family out of strangers.”
When we think our first task is to influence or transform or “retake” society, we are already on shaky ground. What tends to happens is that we leave behind the call to be the alternative in order to seek influence, which means we a) try to impose the kingdom coercively, which is anathema to the spirit of Jesus, and b) we abdicate our faithfulness to Jesus to cut corners, which ends in heresy and collusion with Empire.
If we are a new society gathered around the spirit of Jesus, the spirit of advocacy, we participate in civil life as Americans only insofar as it does not cost us our allegiance to King Jesus and his Church. The Church is the best political statement we can make.
My question involves a quote from Jürgen Moltmann.
“Well, 40 years ago, it was the time of the protest movement against the Vietnam war, and of the student unrest everywhere in the world. And at that time I was thinking about “how can I sing the Lord’s song in an alien land“. And 40 years after, I want to understand “how to sing the Lord’s song in the broad place of his presence“. So it is from the dialectic to the affirmation. And now hope is for me anticipated joy, as anxiety is anticipated terror. And today at least in Germany we live more by anxiety and terror than by hope and joy.”
My questions are: What songs are the youth singing. What songs are they hearing? How does one approach life to learn the Lord's song and how does one develop the voice and ability to sing that song and be heard.
It warms my heart for my people to be quoting Jurgen Moltmann to me! And such a dense question, I’ll do my best.
I’ve tried to keep an eye on youth movements, it tends to be the space where idealism and the hope of imagining a better society are not yet harrowed by defeatism. The imagination of our childhood is sadly sucked out of us as we grow older to resign ourselves to how things are without the possibility of change. As we’ve seen, the Old Testament prophetic movement was one of engaging with a Jewish people who were caught in numbness and despair, enabling them to mourn and cry out so they can finally latch onto the hope of God.
This prophetic element to youth movements, however, also succumbs to a lack of direction sometimes. When I consider the songs youth are singing and hearing, I’m asking questions about the underlying assumptions that are made - who are we? What kind of world are we meant for? Who do we belong to? Often these questions are unanswered, or are given poor answers. As I’ve mentioned before, a primary value for Millennials like myself is “authenticity”. We know the presumptions about the world we inherited are tricksy and false, but when it comes to envisioning what is real and authentic, we are at a loss. This is what leads to chronic cynicism and a cycle of rage.
At its core, our society suffers from a crisis of meaning. Those central questions of identity, belonging, and purpose are not being answered by the prevailing ideologies of the day, certainly not by our political apparatus. The gift of our religious tradition is that we worship a God of hope Who calls us home, reminds us of who we really are and Who we belong to. This God gives our lives meaning, which recontextualizes the suffering we may incur in this life so that suffering produces joy. Immersion in God’s story firmly plants us in history so we know who we are and what we’re called to do. I think the modern Church has an opportunity to sing this song that blesses the restlessness of youth movements today in way that can give them grounding for their cries.
Read:
“Resident Aliens” by Stanley Hauerwas
“Myth of a Christian Nation” by Greg Boyd