Tag Archive - politics

Redeeming Grace

Over the past fifteen years or so, the Evangelical churches in the U.S. have been waking up to the fact that for far too long its gospel has been far too small. Consumed with that part of its identity that demands personal encounter with and rescue by God, it had forgotten that it was supposed to be an alternative to the inward-turned fundamentalism of the early 20th century. It had forgotten that it was created to be a world-engaging, world-transforming presence–ambassadors for the Christ who claims every corner of this world for his own.

As evangelicals experience a resurgence in this core part of our identity, and as we get more creative with how we express what the gospel itself is, we can only hope that our agitation for laws that express the life-giving love of God will take on new expression.

We have always known that our God is a God of life, and so we stood with the unborn children whose lives would be terminated by abortion, and declared ourselves “pro-life.” In this, in fact, we stood with the feminists who saw early on that abortion was a way of invading their bodies to keep them producing for the labor force.

But we have not been so quick to recognize that the redeeming grace of God makes such a broad claim on restoring the cosmos that we should renounce the life-taking powers of capital punishment and war.

The Troy Davis case created a world-wide astonishment at the barbarity of the U.S.’s criminal “justice” system–and I was heartened to see my Twitter stream abuzz with the protestations of Christians about this taking of life. We need to be consistently pro-life–even when that means that someone is not “innocent.” If we are to be agents and extensions of the life-giving gospel that was given to us, we need to reimagine what justice looks like under the kingdom umbrella of the grace of God.

Will evangelicals become consistently pro-life, demanding not only that the infinite possibilities of life be opened up to the unborn child, but also that the more finite yet expansive possibilities of life be opened up to “the vilest offender”?

As important as our voice has become in politics, especially the politics of the political right, we should be using those powers to influence law that will reflect our call to love our neighbors as ourselves and to do unto others as we would want done to us.

By the same measures that I would oppose abortion, by the same measures that I would provide greater support to women who have unplanned pregnancies, by the same measures that I would demand fair trails, by the same measure that I would provide civil marriage equality, by the same measures that I would resist the call to instigate war–by that same measure of loving my neighbor as myself precisely by doing unto my neighbor what I would have done to me–by the same measure we should demand an end to death.

This is what faith looks like in the public sphere: not exerting our powers to the point of death, but trusting in the God who gives life to the dead–even the dead that is the murderer’s still-beating heart (if, in fact, he even be a murderer).

Wrath and Governing Authorities

Romans 13 is a tremendously challenging passage.

Sort of.

What makes it so challenging for many New Testament scholars is that it offers so little challenge to the status quo. The same Paul who says that the cross is the unmasking of the blindness of the rulers of the world tells people to be subject to governing authorities. The same Paul who proclaims Jesus as Lord now invites subjugation to earthly lords. The same Paul whose gospel turns the economy of the world on its head–especially with regard to justice and retribution–here affirms the economy of the world as established by God–especially with regard to justice and retribution.

People have taken this passage in several ways. Some have suggested that it’s simply as clear as it seems: God established earthly rule for our good, so we should submit.

Some have suggested that its force comes, at least in part, from the temporary nature of this age. Paul expected Jesus to return soon, so we can endure self-aggrandizing governments until Christ returns to judge the earth.

Reading through Rom 12-13, I was struck by parallels in language and started to wonder if there might be something subversive about the way Paul frames things.

Romans 12 implores the readers not to repay anyone evil for evil (κακὸν ἀντὶ κακοῦ), a command echoed at the end of ch. 12 with the exhortation not to be overcome by evil (τοῦ κακοῦ) but to overcome the evil by good.

In between these two exhortations? The idea that we don’t take our own revenge, we do the good, because we leave room for God’s wrath, God’s vengeance.

Vengeance is God’s realm. Ours is blessing: feed your hungry enemy; give drink to the thirsty enemy. (Anyone hear echoes of the Sermon on the mount? Going the extra mile, giving cloak in addition to cloak?) This testifies to a confidence in the economy of God–a testimony that may enlighten our enemies about the nature of the God we serve, or that might cause them to incur greater debt in this God’s economy.

Do good. Bless your enemy. And all that to leave room for God’s own wrath.

Are we to forget all this when we come to ch. 13 and are told to subject ourselves to the governing authorities? Opposition is a cause of fear for us here–not subjection. And, there is fear from authorities only for those who do the evil thing (τῷ κακῷ).

Are we in that same realm of “repaying”? Of acting out against unjust government–with evil? Note that there is a specific kind of response in view (“evil”), and that it’s parallel to what Paul told us to avoid in ch. 12.

Even more, Paul exhorts us to feed the hungry coffers and irrigate the thirsty Imperial treasury: “Render to all what is due them, tax to whom tax is due, custom to whom custom, fear to whom fear, honor to whom honor.”

On the one hand, Paul issues a simple call to submit to those who order the world around us.

But perhaps, not too far below the surface, is an expectation that we can submit to such governing authorities because they themselves are subject to the judgment of God. And if we would see them unseated and repaid for their ill work, the thing to do is “heap burning coals on their heads” by returning blessing for their insults and persecutions.

This opens the door to the idea that Rom 13 is about more than mere submission and honor of the government. It cracks open, perhaps, a view of the cosmos in which such submission might play a larger role in bringing about true justice, justice that cannot be meted out by the hands of kings.

What that might mean for us in our own context either as we endure evil, or as we think about participating in our Republic’s governance, or see evil perpetrated in countries other than our own–this doesn’t answer any of those questions. But it might open up another avenue of reflection on what faithful Christian earthly citizenship might mean, and how it relates to the economy of the Kingdom of God.

Alternative Body Politic: Christians & Tucson

In case you missed it, Tim Suttle has launched his writing partnership with The Huffington Post, and he hit the ball out of the park.

His first post was a Christian response to the Tucson tragedy, but more than a response to the tragedy itself, Tim’s post was a call to Christians to remember our story, remember our identity, to hope and to trust that God is faithful.

Here’s a quote:

    The most basic tenet of Christianity is that the future of God has broken into the present time through Jesus Christ. Thus we are not victims of the way things are, but we are now free to participate in God’s redemptive project. We may have limited capacities, but we have the ability to choose the future we wish to enact. Our response to tragedy cannot be one of cynicism, skepticism or despair. It must be the response of hope and healing.

Go and read.

Great work, TIm!

Sex Inside Out

Or, “Do we not judge those inside the church? But those outside God judges.”

Or, “Master, is now the time when you’re going to restore the Kingdom to the United States?!”

This past week I think I may have caused more than a few of my readers whiplash. On the one hand, I have been writing about sexuality (More Sex pt. 1, More Sex pt. 2, plus and earlier post, God & Sex) and articulating in my own little way a quite traditional view of Christian sexuality.

Then on Thursday I come out with a post, distancing myself from the pastor who says the Supreme Court has created war between Christians (of which he’s one) and the gays whom he “loves”–a distancing that includes not only my disdain for the “war” language, but also disagreement about whether the discrimination between homosexual and heterosexual unions should be perpetuated in the legal system.

How does someone with what are fairly traditional Christian views on sexuality distance himself from political efforts to enforce these values on the rest of society?

Theologically, there are a couple of reasons for my bifurcation.

On the side of sexual ethics in particular, the apostle Paul draws a distinction between exercising our judgment on those outside the church and those inside: those who are outside, God judges, what do I have to do with that? he asks in 1 Corinthians 5.

We have a responsibility to police ourselves that we do not have with respect to those who have not joined themselves to the household of faith.

Second, throughout the Gospels and Acts we confidently distance ourselves from those silly disciples who thought that Jesus was going to inaugurate a war against the Romans and thereby bring about the reign of God. And yet, when we come to our own politics we too often anticipate that Jesus is going to exercise his authority in order to impose our political will on our opponents. Really? Is now the time that Jesus is going to restore the Kingdom to Israel… er… the United States?

Third, and perhaps most importantly, the driving dynamic of Christian love to which we are called in Jesus’ teaching is to do unto others as we would have done to us, to love our neighbor as ourselves, to be like God who causes the rain to fall and the sun to shine on the just and the unjust alike.

I believe that this teaching transforms how we ask the question about our relationship to homosexuality and law.

The questions we ask are not, “How do we make people conform externally as much as possible to the law of God,” but instead, “What does it look like to do unto my homosexual neighbor as I would have done to myself? What does it look like to extend blessing and grace to my homosexual neighbor like the God who blesses them with the provision of this world day by day?”

This final set of theological concerns bleeds into the practical.

We are living in a pluralistic world. We have to figure out how to work toward a just society with other people who do not share our religious beliefs. These guiding principles of “how do I do as I would be done to?” and “How do I love as I would be loved,” and “How do I extend the capacious blessing of God?” must displace “enforcing the law of God as I understand it” as our public disposition.

Finally, there is the pragmatic reality that we do not enforce the law of God, and do not want it enforced, through civil means. We do not in general continue to agitate for the institution of laws against premarital sex and adultery. Why not?

In asking that question, I think we uncover that at least in part (a) we do not actually want the state enforcing sexual ethics between “consenting adults”–even when it is truly damaging to a victim as in the case of adultery! but more importantly (b) the reason for enforcing this homosexuality agenda has more to do with what we find personally distasteful or at least something we could never imagine ourselves falling into–in contrast to the heterosexual sins that we no longer appeal to our government to enforce.

Here, I’m tempted to start listing the myriad ways in which people who are legally married might have been married in the sight of God, though they don’t believe–is that false swearing by God’s name really such a good thing? Etc. etc.

I think that the best idea of all is for the government to get out of the marriage business altogether–civil unions for all, irrespective of sex (or no sex at all), and church weddings being none of the state’s business and not civilly recognized.

But in the mean time, so long as the government has laws about marriage, I feel compelled as a Christian to see that the blessing attached to them attend to even what conservative Christians might call “the just and the unjust alike”.

You Heard It Here Last: Ken Starr as Baylor’s New President

The internets are swirling with the rumor: Kenneth Starr (yes, that Ken Starr) is going from Pepperdine Law to be Baylor’s next president.

Thoughts?

I find this an “interesting” choice from the perspective of a NT academic who recognizes that Baylor’s PhD program is on the rise. Sometimes guilt by association can be a tough thing to overcome. Starr is also involved with defending California’s enactment of Prop-8, the ban on gay marriage.

The sort of folks who would value the direction that the PhD program is moving (with bringing on Bruce Longenecker, etc.) and what it has to offer are also, likely, not to be all that thrilled about an institution with Clinton’s prosecutor, and a participant in the Prop-8 goings on, at the helm.

The value of the degree will depend, to some degree, on the religion department being able to separate its good work from the perception (whether true or not) of the university’s being headed by a conservative ideologue. None of this is to say that I think Starr should or should not have done x, y, or z, just that Baylor’s desire to be a certain kind of academic institution with a certain kind of reputation will be, in some ways, hindered by the perception of who Starr is and what he is committed to.