Thirteenth
Sunday after Pentecost
“Never discuss politics or religion in polite company.” The same goes for discussing politics and religion in polite company. We’re taught to avoid it like the plague, including in the church. But sometimes it can’t be avoided, shouldn’t be avoided—not now, not today.
At the risk of being “impolite” in your polite company, this week we turn to the emotionally charged world of religion and politics. In this politically divisive time in American society, I lift up one question: What is our responsibility as Christians in the public square? I left this question to tackle at the end of this summer series, thinking I’ll just preach this sermon and then get out of town.
What is our responsibility as Christians in the public square? This, too, is not an easy question to address. It’s complex. It requires care and thoughtfulness. It requires nuance, which is why it’s so often avoided and misunderstood. Presbyterians are good at nuance. We are a nuanced people. We thrive on it. This is why we’re often misunderstood. So, here we go.
Because of the separation of church and state, many argue that religion should (and must) be kept out of politics. And politics should (and must) stay out of religion. The separation of church and state, when it’s truly practiced, is an invaluable part of our nation’s constitution. Therefore, we should be very wary—red flags should go up—whenever religious institutions and their leaders endorse political candidates. And we should be wary of politicians endorsing a particular religion over others, or privileging one religion over another. And we should be concerned by every attempt to create a theocracy or establish a “Christian nation” in the United States. It is true that most of the signers of the Declaration of Independence were Christian, some were Deists, most were philosophical liberals shaped by the Enlightenment’s worship of reason, such as Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), but they never intended to create a “Christian nation.” That is a myth. Jefferson said, “I(t) does me no injury for my neighbor to believe in twenty gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”[1] In fact, the early founders, heavily influenced by Presbyterians (who had enormous power in the Colonies), pressed for the separation of church and state, so that the state would stay out of the affairs of the church, but also so the church would be free to speak out, even critique, the state, the church would be free to hold the state accountable for caring for the welfare of the common good.
As a result, Presbyterians, from the start, have never been afraid to engage in political affairs. This stance flows out of our reading of the Bible and our theology. For example, the core theological idea in the Reformed tradition is not predestination, but the sovereignty of God. God is sovereign and governs human affairs because this world belongs to God—all of it, not just portions of it. “The earth is the LORD’s” says the psalmist, “The earth is Yahweh’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it” (Psalm 24:1). We don’t divide up the world between the sacred and the profane, between the religious and the secular. The secular, from the Latin saeculum, meaning “generation” or “age,” is holy because it belongs to God and God is concerned for human welfare. This is why Reformed Christians, Presbyterians, have always been engaged in the transformation of society, concerned about justice, the wellbeing of all God’s people, making sure that those who are in authority over us, whom John Calvin (1509-1564) called “magistrates”—we call them politicians or public servants or law-makers—are caring for the needs of all God’s children, whether they are Christian or not. At the end of Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion, a work that significantly shaped Christians in Europe and, later North America, those who have civil authority are God’s servants and are to be obeyed, only because they are called to care for the needs of the people.
Vocation, our calling as Christians, also features prominently in Calvin’s theology and in our tradition. Everyone is called to serve. And no call is higher or better than the other, including the call of the minister. However, if we were to rank them, the call to be a magistrate (a public servant) is perhaps the highest calling, Calvin said, because the public servant, whether king or queen or president or members of Parliament or Congress, has a responsibility to care for the welfare of all people.
One of the marks of a “good Christian” in the Reformed tradition is responsible participation in the life of civil society and obedience to its proper edicts and laws. However, Calvin, citing Paul, makes clear that those in authority are charged by God to use their authority for the ordering of human life, ensuring, Calvin said, that “men breathe, eat, drink and are kept warm.”[2] If those in authority are not caring for the common good, then we have the right (and responsibility), as a last resort, to remove them from their place of authority. Do you hear echoes of the Declaration of Independence here? This is critical in understanding our history as Presbyterians in dealing with those in authority, especially when civil authority is not being used for the common good.
It’s important to remember that John Calvin wrote his Institutes as an exile, having fled for his life because of his earlier writings about people in authority. He dedicated the Institutes to King Francis I (1484-1547) of France from whose realm he had fled. John Knox (c.1513-1572) went to Geneva from Scotland as a fugitive, having escaped from a ship where he had been consigned as a galley slave for rebellion against the Crown. Presbyterians throughout the Colonies were so prominent in the American Revolution that King George III (1738-1820) and the Houses of Parliament often referred to it as “that Presbyterian rebellion.”
“Never discuss politics or religion in polite company.” The same goes for discussing politics and religion in polite company. We’re taught to avoid it like the plague, including in the church. But sometimes it can’t be avoided, shouldn’t be avoided—not now, not today.
At the risk of being “impolite” in your polite company, this week we turn to the emotionally charged world of religion and politics. In this politically divisive time in American society, I lift up one question: What is our responsibility as Christians in the public square? I left this question to tackle at the end of this summer series, thinking I’ll just preach this sermon and then get out of town.
What is our responsibility as Christians in the public square? This, too, is not an easy question to address. It’s complex. It requires care and thoughtfulness. It requires nuance, which is why it’s so often avoided and misunderstood. Presbyterians are good at nuance. We are a nuanced people. We thrive on it. This is why we’re often misunderstood. So, here we go.
Because of the separation of church and state, many argue that religion should (and must) be kept out of politics. And politics should (and must) stay out of religion. The separation of church and state, when it’s truly practiced, is an invaluable part of our nation’s constitution. Therefore, we should be very wary—red flags should go up—whenever religious institutions and their leaders endorse political candidates. And we should be wary of politicians endorsing a particular religion over others, or privileging one religion over another. And we should be concerned by every attempt to create a theocracy or establish a “Christian nation” in the United States. It is true that most of the signers of the Declaration of Independence were Christian, some were Deists, most were philosophical liberals shaped by the Enlightenment’s worship of reason, such as Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), but they never intended to create a “Christian nation.” That is a myth. Jefferson said, “I(t) does me no injury for my neighbor to believe in twenty gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.”[1] In fact, the early founders, heavily influenced by Presbyterians (who had enormous power in the Colonies), pressed for the separation of church and state, so that the state would stay out of the affairs of the church, but also so the church would be free to speak out, even critique, the state, the church would be free to hold the state accountable for caring for the welfare of the common good.
As a result, Presbyterians, from the start, have never been afraid to engage in political affairs. This stance flows out of our reading of the Bible and our theology. For example, the core theological idea in the Reformed tradition is not predestination, but the sovereignty of God. God is sovereign and governs human affairs because this world belongs to God—all of it, not just portions of it. “The earth is the LORD’s” says the psalmist, “The earth is Yahweh’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it” (Psalm 24:1). We don’t divide up the world between the sacred and the profane, between the religious and the secular. The secular, from the Latin saeculum, meaning “generation” or “age,” is holy because it belongs to God and God is concerned for human welfare. This is why Reformed Christians, Presbyterians, have always been engaged in the transformation of society, concerned about justice, the wellbeing of all God’s people, making sure that those who are in authority over us, whom John Calvin (1509-1564) called “magistrates”—we call them politicians or public servants or law-makers—are caring for the needs of all God’s children, whether they are Christian or not. At the end of Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion, a work that significantly shaped Christians in Europe and, later North America, those who have civil authority are God’s servants and are to be obeyed, only because they are called to care for the needs of the people.
Vocation, our calling as Christians, also features prominently in Calvin’s theology and in our tradition. Everyone is called to serve. And no call is higher or better than the other, including the call of the minister. However, if we were to rank them, the call to be a magistrate (a public servant) is perhaps the highest calling, Calvin said, because the public servant, whether king or queen or president or members of Parliament or Congress, has a responsibility to care for the welfare of all people.
One of the marks of a “good Christian” in the Reformed tradition is responsible participation in the life of civil society and obedience to its proper edicts and laws. However, Calvin, citing Paul, makes clear that those in authority are charged by God to use their authority for the ordering of human life, ensuring, Calvin said, that “men breathe, eat, drink and are kept warm.”[2] If those in authority are not caring for the common good, then we have the right (and responsibility), as a last resort, to remove them from their place of authority. Do you hear echoes of the Declaration of Independence here? This is critical in understanding our history as Presbyterians in dealing with those in authority, especially when civil authority is not being used for the common good.
It’s important to remember that John Calvin wrote his Institutes as an exile, having fled for his life because of his earlier writings about people in authority. He dedicated the Institutes to King Francis I (1484-1547) of France from whose realm he had fled. John Knox (c.1513-1572) went to Geneva from Scotland as a fugitive, having escaped from a ship where he had been consigned as a galley slave for rebellion against the Crown. Presbyterians throughout the Colonies were so prominent in the American Revolution that King George III (1738-1820) and the Houses of Parliament often referred to it as “that Presbyterian rebellion.”
I share this to remind us that engaging in civil society, engaging political powers and those in authority over us are in our DNA as Reformed Christians, as Presbyterians. It’s embedded in our theology. We are engaged in society, we are concerned about what is happening politically. We are free to be political, without being partisan—political without advocating for a particular party. Again, nuance. We have a responsibility to be involved in the world, without being of the world. The church can’t hide from its responsibility in the world behind the walls of a monastery or convent, nor are we free to hide from the world behind the walls of the church, safe from all harm. This is not an option for us. We are not escapist.
Still, we hear some say that the church should only be concerned with “spiritual” concerns and avoid controversial issues, including politics. We should just save souls. The problem with this approach is that it’s very difficult to read the prophets—Isaiah and Jeremiah, and all the so-called Minor Prophets, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi (which the Thursday Morning Bible Study read this past year)—and say that God is only concerned with “spiritual” matters. The Bible has a lot to say about kings who don’t care for the welfare of God’s children, about corruption in high places; God has strong views about poverty and economics and the treatment of women and children and orphans and refugees and war. God has a particular understanding of what justice looks like—and it’s not about getting even. It’s about wholeness, it’s about healing, it’s about evening the imbalances in society, it’s about equality, it’s about forming a society that cares for “the least” (Matthew 25:40), a society where the “last shall be first” (Matthew 20:16). There is, obviously, a political dimension to all of this. God is concerned with how people live within the polis, within the city, within communities. And God is concerned with the right use of power within the polis, ensuring that those who have power use it responsibly for the common good; God wants us to empower those who have been disempowered by the powers that be.
This
vision of the prophets is embedded in Jesus’ preaching on the kingdom of God, or, as we find in
Matthew’s Gospel, the kingdom of heaven. The preaching of the kingdom stands at the
center of Jesus’ life and ministry. That’s
why Jesus commands us to seek the kingdom, first (Matthew 6:33). Everything
Jesus said and did rotates around that center, around the kingdom of God—the basileia in Greek, meaning the “realm”,
or better, the “empire” of God. Saying
the empire of God retains the
political dimension of Jesus’ ministry and message, but the church has been reluctant to see
it. My friend, W. Travis McMaken, a
Presbyterian theologian recently said, “The greatest trick the devil ever
played was to make you think there is a part of your life that isn’t political.”
In fact, there is absolutely no way one can say with any intellectual or biblical integrity that Jesus’ ministry had nothing to do with politics. It’s there in the Sermon on the Mount, especially the Beatitudes. It’s there when Jesus calls us to be engaged in the world, calling us to be salt and light in the world. And when he teaches us to pray, “Your kingdom come,” O God. Bring your kingdom, bring your empire, bring your ways, bring your justice, and hope, and healing. Bring your love and let it be anchored here in this world, in our lives, in our communities, in places of power, that it might be “on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt. 6:10). This is the politics of Jesus. It’s his political agenda.
In fact, there is absolutely no way one can say with any intellectual or biblical integrity that Jesus’ ministry had nothing to do with politics. It’s there in the Sermon on the Mount, especially the Beatitudes. It’s there when Jesus calls us to be engaged in the world, calling us to be salt and light in the world. And when he teaches us to pray, “Your kingdom come,” O God. Bring your kingdom, bring your empire, bring your ways, bring your justice, and hope, and healing. Bring your love and let it be anchored here in this world, in our lives, in our communities, in places of power, that it might be “on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt. 6:10). This is the politics of Jesus. It’s his political agenda.
Jesus
proclaims the kingdom to show us how to wield power. This is what God’s empire looks
like. This is how God uses power. N. T. Wright says, “When God wants to change
the world,” as the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount make clear, “God
doesn’t send in the tanks. God sends in the meek, the broken, those hungry and
thirsty for God’s justice, the peacemaker, the pure in heart.”[3]
God’s empire has an entirely different ethic that unsettles our sensibilities
and thwarts our evil intentions. This way, God’s way, God’s Empire, God’s
politics is always at odds with the powers that be. Remember, Jesus died on the cross of the
Roman Empire, in a death reserved exclusively for enemies of the state, enemies of Rome, enemies of the Emperor. The Roman
Empire crucified the empire of God on the cross, which means that the cross is
always a political symbol, making a political statement. The cross is both a religious and political symbol. And, so, how can
anyone say that Jesus and the gospel doesn’t have a political dimension? The cross is screaming politics.
God’s empire must not be confused with any other empire, although many empires have claimed they were extensions of God’s kingdom, whether it was the Holy Roman Empire, the Spanish Empire, the British Empire, the French Empire, the Russian Empire, the German Empire, or the American Empire. God does not privilege one empire over the other. God is not on “our side,” whatever side we happen to be on. God is not partisan. God is neither Republican nor Democrat nor Libertarian. God neither favors capitalism or socialism. God is not exclusively conservative or liberal. God stands in judgment of all nations that resist the vision and values of the kingdom. Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) got it right when he said, “My concern is not whether God is on my side, my greatest concern is to be on God’s side, for God is always right.” Lincoln wrestled with this in his Second Inaugural Address, both sides read the same Bible, but which side sought to be on God’s side?
Are we on God’s side? Are we doing what heaven wants? And what does God want? Listen to the prophets. Listen to Jesus. Listen to the Sermon on the Mount. Listen to Paul.
God’s empire must not be confused with any other empire, although many empires have claimed they were extensions of God’s kingdom, whether it was the Holy Roman Empire, the Spanish Empire, the British Empire, the French Empire, the Russian Empire, the German Empire, or the American Empire. God does not privilege one empire over the other. God is not on “our side,” whatever side we happen to be on. God is not partisan. God is neither Republican nor Democrat nor Libertarian. God neither favors capitalism or socialism. God is not exclusively conservative or liberal. God stands in judgment of all nations that resist the vision and values of the kingdom. Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) got it right when he said, “My concern is not whether God is on my side, my greatest concern is to be on God’s side, for God is always right.” Lincoln wrestled with this in his Second Inaugural Address, both sides read the same Bible, but which side sought to be on God’s side?
Are we on God’s side? Are we doing what heaven wants? And what does God want? Listen to the prophets. Listen to Jesus. Listen to the Sermon on the Mount. Listen to Paul.
“Do not be conformed to this world,”
he said, “but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may
discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect”
(Romans 12:2). And what is good? “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold
fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another
in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord.
Rejoice in hope, be patient n suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend
hospitality” (Romans 12: 9-13). Live in
harmony. Do not repay anyone evil for
evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all (Romans 12:14-21).
This is how we bring faith into the public square. Not by making everyone Christian, or becoming a “Christian nation,” but by seeking to embody Christ’s still more excellent way in the choices we make. Jim Wallis of the Sojourners community says, “We bring faith into the public square when our moral convictions demand it. But to influence a democratic society, you must win the public debate about why the policies you advocate are better for the common good. That’s the democratic discipline religion has to be under when it brings its faith to the public square.”[4] What is best for the common good?
Because of our experience of grace, Christians, of all people, should be among the best advocates for the common good, we should be known for fighting for the freedom and rights of all God’s children, on the side of the weak and the outcast and the marginalized, the disenfranchised, the broken, the wounded. Because God has made space for us, we should be free to make space for the other, to be an advocate for the other, whoever the other happens to be—including the person of no faith or a different faith altogether, whether or not you agree with their politics or morality or choices. If you’re a Christian baker and you’ve been asked to bake a cake for a same-sex couple, you should be free to offer something that will bring joy to their lives, whether or not you agree with same-sex marriage. A mature Christian is free to make sure that our Muslim brothers and sisters are safe in our communities, even if don’t share the same creed.
This is how we bring faith into the public square. Not by making everyone Christian, or becoming a “Christian nation,” but by seeking to embody Christ’s still more excellent way in the choices we make. Jim Wallis of the Sojourners community says, “We bring faith into the public square when our moral convictions demand it. But to influence a democratic society, you must win the public debate about why the policies you advocate are better for the common good. That’s the democratic discipline religion has to be under when it brings its faith to the public square.”[4] What is best for the common good?
Because of our experience of grace, Christians, of all people, should be among the best advocates for the common good, we should be known for fighting for the freedom and rights of all God’s children, on the side of the weak and the outcast and the marginalized, the disenfranchised, the broken, the wounded. Because God has made space for us, we should be free to make space for the other, to be an advocate for the other, whoever the other happens to be—including the person of no faith or a different faith altogether, whether or not you agree with their politics or morality or choices. If you’re a Christian baker and you’ve been asked to bake a cake for a same-sex couple, you should be free to offer something that will bring joy to their lives, whether or not you agree with same-sex marriage. A mature Christian is free to make sure that our Muslim brothers and sisters are safe in our communities, even if don’t share the same creed.
So what is the Christian’s
responsibility in the public square?
It’s obvious, isn’t it? The more important pertinent question is, what
is your responsibility in the public
square? What are you being asked to say or do at this season in our national
life? How involved does one get? How vocal
should one be? I guess it depends on what’s
at stake. Theologian
Jürgen Moltmann reminds us, “A person who does not become engaged publicly for
the kingdom of God has no need to go underground into the catacombs.”[5]
When I see what’s happening all around us, I feel that the soul of America is at stake. And while there is a separation of church and state, as it should be, I feel that both the soul of the church and the integrity of the Christian witness are also at stake. When we look around and see the increasing disdain, the intentional lack of respect, even hate toward the refugee and immigrant, the racial minority, the marginalized, when we witness the hardening of American society, the lack of compassion, the demonic celebration of the strong and powerful, the total disregard for truth and honesty, for justice and mercy, failing to treat people with kindness and compassion, when we fail to extend the same compassion and care toward the environment, which is in crisis, almost at the point beyond repair—when we see all that is happening around us, the Christian is compelled, obligated to act, to forcefully engage the powers that be. Then it’s time, yes, it’s time to question the civil authorities and magistrates and hold them accountable and remind them of their promises, because they are failing in caring for the welfare of God’s people.
And, so, sorry, Jeff Sessions, you miserably misread Romans 13:1, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities.”Mr. Sessions, you abused the text. For if the “authorities” are not willing to do their job, which is their sacred duty, then they should be voted out of office. The Emperor serves God and the law of God is love. As Paul also said in Romans 13—Sessions should have kept on reading the chapter, instead of proof-texting the Bible to serve his own ends—“Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law…. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law” (Romans 13:8, 10).
It all comes down to love.
In the end, love is the politics of Jesus.
When I see what’s happening all around us, I feel that the soul of America is at stake. And while there is a separation of church and state, as it should be, I feel that both the soul of the church and the integrity of the Christian witness are also at stake. When we look around and see the increasing disdain, the intentional lack of respect, even hate toward the refugee and immigrant, the racial minority, the marginalized, when we witness the hardening of American society, the lack of compassion, the demonic celebration of the strong and powerful, the total disregard for truth and honesty, for justice and mercy, failing to treat people with kindness and compassion, when we fail to extend the same compassion and care toward the environment, which is in crisis, almost at the point beyond repair—when we see all that is happening around us, the Christian is compelled, obligated to act, to forcefully engage the powers that be. Then it’s time, yes, it’s time to question the civil authorities and magistrates and hold them accountable and remind them of their promises, because they are failing in caring for the welfare of God’s people.
And, so, sorry, Jeff Sessions, you miserably misread Romans 13:1, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities.”Mr. Sessions, you abused the text. For if the “authorities” are not willing to do their job, which is their sacred duty, then they should be voted out of office. The Emperor serves God and the law of God is love. As Paul also said in Romans 13—Sessions should have kept on reading the chapter, instead of proof-texting the Bible to serve his own ends—“Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law…. Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law” (Romans 13:8, 10).
It all comes down to love.
In the end, love is the politics of Jesus.
.
[1] Mark Edwards, “Was America Founded as a Christian Nation?” CNN Online, July
4, 2015. See also Kevin M. Kruse, One Nation Under God: How Corporate America
Invented Christian America (New York: Basic Books, 2016) and John Fea, Was America Founded as a Christian Nation?: A
Historical Introduction (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011).
[2] Cited in Vernon S. Broyles III, “Church and State: When faith and patriotism collide,” Presbyterian Church (USA).
[3] N. T. Wright, “The Great Story,” from a sermon preached at the service
to celebrate the 600th anniversary of the founding of the University
of St. Andrews, St. Andrews, Scotland, 26th June 2011. See also Simply Jesus: A New Vision of Who He Was, What He Did, and Why He Matters (HarperOne, 2018), 216.
[4] Cited in Ryan Lizza’s New York Times review
of Jim Wallis’ God’s Politics: Why the Right Gets It Wrong and the Left Doesn’t Get It (Harper San Francisco,
2006).
[5] Jürgen Moltmann, Nicholas Wolterstorff, Ellen T. Charry,
edited by Miroslav Volf, A Passion for
God’s Reigns: Theology, Christian Learning, and the Christian Self (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans Press, 1998), 53.
