A Christian Politic- Pt. 3

Share

If you're reading this, thanks for your endurance. If you missed the first two entries in this blog series, check out the previous two entries which set the stage for this final post. In Part 1, I laid out some of the basic underlying theology of my political views, namely my focus on the Kingdom of God as revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus. In Part 2, I attempted to critique the American Christian tendency of compartmentalizing faith and politics into separate realms. In that post I tried to demonstrate that our faith should impact all aspects of life, and therefore can be applied to all political issues, including those not typically thought as "religious" issues.

That leads to today's final post. As I mentioned at the end of Part 2, one of the concerns of applying faith uniformly to all political issues is that faith might be easily co-opted by political ideologies. Another concern I'll identify now is that such a tactic also opens up the potential for abuse of faith, particularly on the part of religious leaders and pastors. Or conversely, how can we prevent faith from abusing our political systems and creating an oppressive "theocracy"?  If our faith is to impact our political views, how can we practically mix faith and politics without poisoning either of these two realms?

Before offering some suggestions to help navigate these difficult waters, I think it's important to emphasize one point that could easily get lost. When I refer to "a Christian politic" I am not naively assuming following this will mean all Christians will come to the same political conclusions. In fact, far from it. The truth is every Christian's political conclusions are heavily informed by other forces besides just their faith. For instance, a Christian in a rural setting and one in an urban setting will likely see the same issue very differently. Likewise, an Asian Christian, a Black Christian, and a White Christian will also likely come to different conclusions. Similarly, Christians will settle on different political ideas due to different experiences, education levels, and access to facts.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, in some cases it can be a good thing. Often, a single political policy or law will not be equally beneficial in every place. For example, a law that works well and promotes justice in New York City may not be very effective or just in small town America. Furthermore, if Christians always came to the exact same conclusions this could be a recipe for disastrous group-think.

As such, a "Christian politic" is not so much about coming to the exact same conclusions as it is about having common ground in the process. It's about ensuring we as Christians seek a consistency in what we advocate. It's about coming together around Scripture to seek policies, laws, and candidates that most closely approximate the ethics of the Kingdom of God while simultaneously remembering that no earthly government will replace or realize God's Kingdom.

With those considerations in mind, here are several practical suggestions for how we might live out a Christian politic:

1) We must live out our politics in community

While America is inherently an individualistic culture, the culture of the New Testament was extremely communal. Additionally, the nature of the church should drive Christians to recognize the importance of community. The church is a communal body, and likewise a Christian politic should be communal in nature. This means a few things.

First, we cannot arrive at political decisions in isolation from others. Dialogue is essential. If humans are damaged creations, then no single one of us has perfect insight. We need to hear the voices of others around us and need to be corrected by others. As I addressed above, we all come from different backgrounds and will draw different conclusions about specific policies. In order to seek the best options for our specific community we need to learn the practice of listening to others.

Second, the Bible's view of the end of the age gives us a picture of the type of community the church is called to be. In Revelation, we get a beautiful depiction of people from every nation, tribe, and tongue standing before the throne of God as the people of God. If we try to live out this eschatalogical reality in the present, then our politics must leave room for diversity. This is particularly a struggle for white Christians. It's way too easy to listen to political rhetoric that is one-sided or only favors a particular race. However, as Christians we must fight this temptation and create space for listening to viewpoints that are different than our own. For white Christians, this means listening to black, Arab, and Hispanic/Latin@ voices. A truly Christian politic must reflect input from the full diversity of God's Kingdom.

Finally, a communal politic means we recognize the need for the common good. My politics cannot be just about my own personal good. Neither can it just be about the good of Christians alone. Rather, a Christian ethic calls me to care for my neighbor, even at my own expense. Not only is the process of discovering a Christian politic a communal one, but the end result is also communal in nature.

2) A Christian politic must be grounded in humility

If we take seriously the message of the cross discussed in Part 1, then we will recognize that a Christian ethic must be dominated by a radical humility. Much of this echoes point one above. Christians engaging in politics should not be proud or arrogant. We are quick to admit that we are not God, and therefore we might be wrong. Unlike the self-righteous rantings of both the political Right and Left, Christians must stand ready to learn and be corrected. We are also ready to compromise on personal preferences for the well-being of the wider community when necessary. If we follow a man who became nothing on the cross for the sake of enemies, then we too should practice humility and self-sacrifice in our political endeavors.

3) A Christian politic must be committed to free-will and non-coercion

As one studies early Christianity from the New Testament era through the first several centuries, it become clear that Christianity was at its best before it came into political power. After Constantine legalized Christianity and after Christianity became the official religion of the empire, so much of the true power of Christianity was lost. When people were forced to become Christians, Christianity became hollowed out and even committed gross atrocities and crimes (the Crusades, Inquisitions, witch hunts, opposing science and learning, etc.)

In contrast, many Christians throughout history, particularly the Baptists and Anabaptists, have advocated for religious liberty and free consciences. "A coerced faith is no faith at all," they have said. This principle is especially helpful in our current conversation.

First, this concept means that the goal of a Christian politic is NOT theocracy. The goal is not to establish a "Christian nation" or to have a "Christian" government. History has shown time and again that such tight equivalencies between religion and state only lead to oppression. Rather, our faith should inform our decisions, but also allow room for the free practice of other religious opinions.

This also means Christians should advocate for the religious liberty of all religions, not just their own. One of the travesties of most current discussions about "religious freedom" is that Christians seem preoccupied with the supposed "persecution" of Christians, but rarely raise their voices against the very real discrimination against other faiths, such as Islam.

This principle also suggests that Christians should be cautious when it comes to "legislating morality." Yes, it is good to seek Christian values in policies and law. However--and this goes back to my first point--such policies should be made in conversation with the wider community (including non-Christian voices) and should always seek the common good.

4) Christians, especially leaders, should give priority to general values above specific policies

This is perhaps the most important point of this post. As I alluded to in Part 2, the Bible does not comment directly on most political issues. Rather, we must look at the story of the Bible, study its original context, and draw out principles that can guide our current debates.

It would be nice if this process were easy and straightforward, but it's usually not for the reasons mentioned at the beginning of this post. For instance, in the immigration debate, what Biblical principles do we look at? And, how do we best apply those principles? One principle could be that we need to have compassion on our neighbors. Another principle could be that we should "seek the welfare of the city" in which we live. However, what does this mean practically? Does having compassion mean we allow illegal immigrants to remain in the country and establish a better life than the dangerous one they had? Or does "seeking the welfare of the city" mean we should send illegal immigrants back home because failing to enforce immigration laws opens the door for drug dealers, criminals, terrorists, or diseases to come into our country and hurt our fellow citizens?

These are tough questions, and I frequently see Christians come to very different conclusions on the matter and get angry with each other. However, it seems to me that most of these Christians debating each other have not stopped to have a meaningful conversation about the underlying values driving their policies. That is putting the cart before the horse. Before we can discuss what specific policies we should advocate for as Christians, we as Christians need to have more meaningful discussions about what values and principles we can agree on.

This fourth suggestion is especially important for pastors and Christian leaders. Some pastors get criticized for being "too political" in their preaching. I think this is a bit misleading. The truth is that Christianity is a political faith. Jesus was crucified by Rome for a political crime--proclaiming to be a King. So, I don't think the problem is that some sermons are "political."

Rather, I think the problem is that such sermons are political in the wrong kind of way. Namely, such sermons go beyond advocating for common principles and values from the Bible all Christians can agree upon to advocating for (or against) specific candidates or policies. They become partisan. For instance, I have heard way too many preachers over the past 8 years blast Obama and his policies in sermons. This is a dangerous strategy.

Going beyond promoting values to promoting specific political agendas or persons is damaging in several ways. First, it falsely connects those policies or candidates to having faith. As such, it can imply that if you don't agree with this particular political stance that you are sub-Christian (or maybe non-Christian). But that is simply not true. In the case of pastors who criticize Obama explicitly, what does that say to members of the congregation who voted for or who support Obama, perhaps on equally Christian grounds? Bringing such specifics into the sermon can easily abuse the spiritual authority given to pastors and church leaders and drive a wedge between the pastor and certain members of the congregation.

That being said, there will be times when church leaders need to become more specific in their political preaching. For instance, pastors in Nazi Germany most certainly should have spoken out against Hitler and the Holocaust. Pastors during the civil rights era in the South should have stood up against racism and Jim Crowe laws. However, how does one know when it's acceptable to preach directly about specific policies, laws, or people?

This is a tricky question--and one I can't answer completely--but here are a few thoughts. First, the issue-at-stake must be a severe injustice, particularly injustices that are costing lives. Second, the values at play should be indisputable. In other words, the specific cause must relate directly to a certain Christian value, and that value should be accepted by Christians throughout history and in the present. Third, such decisions should preference the voices of the oppressed. If we are going to speak out to something specifically, we should choose to speak on behalf of the oppressed, not the powerful, as they are the ones with no voice. Finally, such decisions to speak on specific issues should only be made after much prayer and fasting. They should not be made hastily.

In general, though, pastors and church leaders should stick with preaching the values that are common to all Christians. They should leave room for those values to be applied differently by different Christians, and should leave room for dialogue and free will. Incidentally, when we preach about Christian political values and get congregations to abide by those, then the policies usually have a way of working themselves out.

As an example, since I am currently not serving in a leadership role in a church, I have made it no secret that I strongly oppose the candidacy of Donald Trump (although I have also been careful not to publicly disclose who I am voting for or if I will be voting at all). However, if I were currently serving as a pastor, I would be more reserved in condemning Trump specifically for several reasons. First, I know a number of Christians who plan on voting for Trump for one reason or another and I don't want to make them feel excluded from our community. Second, I recognize that such Christians are often trying to apply their own Christian principles, but are simply applying them differently than myself. Finally, I don't want to imply that a vote for Trump will throw into question a person's salvation or Christian faith. Therefore, I would choose to speak more generally about Christian principles all Christians should agree on that incidentally challenge Trump as well--compassion for the poor, love for enemies, humility, sexual purity, honesty, hospitality for foreigners, etc.

None of this excludes ever talking about specifics. In fact, we must talk about specific policies at some point. However, we should only do so through dialogue within a community and only after we have examined the Christian principles that will guide those policies. Specific policies also should arise from the community and not unilaterally from church leaders or pastors.

5) Read the Bible and listen to the Spirit

Ok, I know I said point 4 was the most important point, but it's actually this one. Gotcha! The truth is, a Christian politic can only be accomplished when we are reading the same story of Scripture and when we are listening to the same Spirit. Yes, it's important to undertake this task in community. Yes, it's important to have humility and allow freedom of choice. Yes, it's important to focus first and foremost on guiding values before policies. However, none of this matters if we are not engaging the story of Scripture which forms those values. None of this matters unless we listen to the Spirit of God who binds together the church in love and unity.

----------------------------------------
Engaging in political discussions is a difficult endeavor. It can easily go wrong in so many ways. People get so worked up over political matters and debates and will even cease speaking to each other because of politics. That is why politics (in addition to religion and sex) often is taken off the table for ordinary conversation.

But we can't escape politics. We live in a democracy and are impacted by politics every day whether we choose to vote or not. If you do vote, you are forced to make decisions about what you value, who should represent you, and what laws you'd like to see. Even if you don't vote, you likely have opinions on political matters, whether those be economics, immigration, foreign policy, taxes, welfare, or the weather (just kidding on that last one).

As such, Christians have a responsibility to think (and talk) about political matters. It's not a matter of if you'll be political, but of how you will be political. But for a Christian, that "how" matters quite a bit. The Gospel is not just a belief, it is a way of life. As such, the way we live, including the way we live politically, is a reflection of our faithfulness to Christ.

Developing a Christian politic takes much careful work. We must mine our theology for values that can inform our politics. We must resist the urge to compartmentalize our lives into sacred vs. secular. And we must approach political decisions with great humility and in dialogue with a Spirit-filled community of faith rooted in Scripture.

I hope these past several posts have been helpful to you in this election year. I'm sure I'm off on some points, but that's the purpose of dialogue. Maybe these posts have given you some ideas to incorporate into your own life and practices. Maybe they've just given you insight into where I am coming from when I post about political issues. If nothing else, I hope they will allow us as Christians to have better conversations with each other and to develop healthier political views that can perhaps shape our culture into something beautiful, just, and compassionate.

A Christian Politic- Part 2

Share

Yesterday I wrote about the theological foundations of my political views. Today I want to speak more on why I see a need to bring my faith to bear on my politics in such a dense manner. As I briefly mentioned yesterday, a huge mistake I see my fellow Christians making is not bringing their faith to bear on "political issues." Or more precisely, not doing so in any consistent manner.

One of the most glaring examples of this inconsistency is the usage of the term "pro-life." The term has been used almost exclusively to refer to the abortion debate. Most evangelical Christians describe themselves (and rightly so) as "pro-life" because they seek to defend the innocent lives of unborn children who are killed everyday by abortions. I have no problem with this as I too believe life begins at conception.

However, the problem arises when those same Christians advocate policies that are decidedly "anti-life." The most obvious example is the frequent support of some Christians for the death penalty. Is it really possible to claim to be "pro-life" when you are simultaneously "pro-death"? This is further complicated when we consider that in most cases the death penalty does not save any innocent lives compared to life in prison. Research has shown that the death penalty is not an effective deterrent for violence, and the offender generally does not pose any more serious threat to society being locked up for life than being executed.

Another example of this inconsistency of applying "biblical principles" is the fact that some issues constantly get biblical treatment (abortion, gay marriage, religious freedom), whereas other political issues can be discussed at length by Christians without any reference to Scripture of faith (gun rights/control, immigration, war and diplomacy, poverty, economics, etc.) To that point, some Christians will say the difference between the two sets of political issues is that the Bible addresses the former but not the latter. How can we have a discussion informed by faith on topics on which the Bible is silent?

However, this is somewhat misleading. Most of the modern political issues we discuss in light of our faith are really not present in the Bible either. For example, modern democracies with freedom of religion did not exist in biblical times, so strictly speaking, the Bible is silent on religious liberty in the modern sense of the term. Likewise, the Bible does not specifically address abortion. Rather, we look at verses the suggest the dignity of life in the womb and apply those to our modern debate. Even gay marriage is really not in the Bible as the modern concept of a committed, loving relationship based on "same-sex attraction" is a far cry from what the Bible has in mind when it references "homosexuality" (see here for more on that). The truth is we constantly import our modern issues onto the ancient text in ways the original writers never envisioned. This is not a bad thing so long as we are mindful of the original context of the verses we use, but let's not naively (or deceptively) claim that we bring up the Bible for some political issues and not others because those are the only issues the Bible addresses.

A prime example of this is economics. Many Christians will refer to Marx or Keynes or Smith, or refer to ideological concepts like fiscal conservatism, trickle-down economics, etc., but won't broach the topic of Scripture. Ironically, unlike the issues of abortion and same-sex marriage, the Bible actually has tons to say on the topics of economics and poverty. Jim Wallis has famously remarked on how a friend in seminary went through the entire Bible and cut out every single verse about the poor. The resulting Bible was a shredded mess because so much (at least 2,000 verses) had been excised.

It seems to me the real problem is the compartmentalization of our lives. We divide our lives into sectors. There is the work part of my life, the family part of my life, the leisure part of my life, the political part of my life, and then we also have this other fenced-in area--the religious/faith part of my life. Sometimes these sectors may overlap and bump against each other, but we as modern Americans do a good job of keeping each realm separate in our minds.

For instance, a few years ago I posted the following photo on my Facebook page to see how Christians would react:

In my post, I did not advocate for or against gun control, but simply made an observation that Christians rarely bring their faith to bear in this heated debate over firearms in America. Undoubtedly, seeing a picture of Jesus holding a handgun (with a child no less) makes many Christians feel uncomfortable. Now, had the figure been some rustic American man, few would have any issues with the picture. But for some reason, we can't even imagine Jesus in the same frame as a gun.

I suspect the reason this picture is so difficult to swallow is because we as American Christians have separated the gun rights/gun control issue from the sphere of faith. We reason that gun control is not a "religious" issue. Jesus never talked about guns, and neither does the Bible, so Scripture never even crosses our mind. Instead, we rely on arguments about the second amendment, mass shootings, the NRA, self-defense, and the like. Making guns a "religious" debate never even makes it as a blip on our radar.

However, this is artificial compartmentalization at work. I would submit to you that the gun issue is a religious issue because religion touches every part of life for a Christian. Jesus is not the Lord over some small cross-section of life called "religion" or "church." He is Lord over every part of life, including our politics and "secular" debates. That's the point of Jesus' incarnation. Jesus entered into human life, experienced all of human life, and sought to redeem all of human life, not just the "religious" parts. Our faith should be the lens through which we view all of life.

When it comes to guns (and many issues like it), it is a tragedy that so many Christians have never asked questions like "What would Jesus do?"--Would Jesus own a gun? Would he use a gun in self-defense? Would he beat guns into plowshares? Would he serve in the military? Would he hunt? Obviously we cannot answer these questions definitively, and our answers will likely be shaped by our own cultural preconceptions, but we must at least ask the questions. After all, Jesus would have an answer to these questions if He were walking on earth today. Therefore, we too as "little Christs" must attempt to ask and answer these questions in the most Christ-like manner we can.The Bible may not tell us directly if Jesus would own a gun, but we can examine the story of Scripture with an eye on Christian tradition and Christian community to help us to arrive at a reasonable answer.

Here is my point: Christians need to stop being so schizophrenic with our application of our faith to political issues. Even when the Bible does not directly speak to a topic, we can still be informed by its story. We can still elicit values from Christian tradition and the Christian story to assist us in making decisions. I will cover the practical sides of this more in-depth in Part 3.

At this point, I hear some objecting that such an approach would allow Christianity to be easily co-opted by a political ideology. "Mixing faith and politics is not a good idea," they say. I will address this concern specifically in tomorrow's post, but here I'll just mention that I think the concern is overstated.

Although faith being co-opted by political ideology is certainly a risk of my approach, I believe that risk is actually greater when we only apply our faith to politics in a haphazard manner.  Indeed, we already have a problem when evangelical Christians can be considered a reliable support base for one political party. When we only apply our faith to our pet issues, that means some other ideology will fill the gap to guide our decisions on all other topics. We align ourselves with the political party that seems to agree with us on the "religious issues" (abortion, same-sex marriage, religious freedom), but then blindly agree (or are forced to agree by the "lesser of two evils" argument) with that party's platform on all other issues whether the policy proposals are Christ-like or not. The result of dividing life into sacred/secular or religious/non-religious is to doom ourselves to do and say things of which Jesus would never approve.

Furthermore, the reality is you always run the risk of getting your faith hijacked by political ideology any time you engage in the political system. The only way to avoid this is to remove yourself from the system altogether. This is the Anabaptist approach, but I suspect most American Christians feel that not engaging politics at all is irresponsible and a waste of an opportunity God has given us to shape our world through the form of democracy.

However, if we took the view that every action carries religious significance, and that Jesus is Lord over every political issue, then we suddenly find ourselves in a place where we are uneasy with both the Left and the Right. We find ourselves agreeing with one party on one issue, but then prophetically critiquing the same party on a different issue. If we ground our politics in our citizenship in God's Kingdom and approach every issue guided by heaven's politics, then we would actually have a counter-cultural Christian response to the politics of our country.

So as you listen to debates in the coming weeks and decide what candidate and policies to vote for or against, here is my request: Ask yourself how your faith impacts each decision. Use some holy imagination and put Jesus in your shoes. How do you think He would vote? Even if the issue at hand seems far removed from the concerns of a first-century, Jewish man, just remember this--Jesus was a real human who tread real earth in a real culture filled with its own real political complexities. That is the whole point of Jesus' incarnation. God is not some cosmic idea floating transcendent above all our daily concerns. He became a human being and dealt with all the mundane and secular matters we deal with.

Therefore, ask how your faith relates to those seemingly "non-religious" topics. What if our faith does have something to say about economics, immigration, guns, terrorism, climate change, and the like? After all, if Jesus had been born in our country He would have had to decide how to engage our political process as well (or whether to participate at all). There is no issue above or beyond the reach of our faith. All we have to do is ask the right questions.

[In Part 3, I wrap up this series with a post examining the limits of what Scripture can and cannot do (or shouldn't do) when it comes to informing our political decisions.]

A Christian Politic- Part 1

Share

It's 2016--election year--and countless Christians have been weighing in with their opinions on candidates, policies, and the direction of our democracy for months now. So as this season draws to an end, I figured now would be a good time to offer my philosophy of politics. I try to avoid frequent political posts (although have made more recently since it's an election year), but the following explanation will detail how to understand my perspective when I do make political comments.

Before I explain where my political view comes from, I want to make a quick note about this post's title. I titled it "A Christian Politic," not "THE Christian Politic" because that is all this is--one possible philosophy. There are as many "Christian" approaches to politics as there are Christian denominations, and as much as I believe my perspective best adheres to a Jesus-centered, Bible-informed politic, I leave room for others to disagree and come to different conclusions. I won't claim any monopoly on the truth here.  This explanation will come in three parts (so come back for parts 2 and 3 over the next few days), but in this first post I want to outline the fundamental values of my political perspective.

The first thing that must be noted is that my political views are primarily formed by my faith. This is the foundation. My politics do not begin with a secular ideology (conservatism, libertarianism, progressivism, etc.), but are Christocentric in nature. In other words, you cannot understand my politics without understanding the core tenets of my faith. So, what are those core tenets within my theology?

While I could spend pages and pages trying to detail my theology, I'll try to limit this discussion to the most political of my theological concepts: the "Kingdom of God."  In recent years my faith has been profoundly shaped by the Bible's talk about the "Kingdom of God." This theological concept has radically redefined my ecclesiology, eschatology, and the very language of faith I use. In fact, it has redefined how I view the "Gospel" itself. I tend to follow Scot McKnight in arguing that the "Gospel" is not simply the "plan of salvation" that centers on the cross. Rather, the "Gospel" is the "good news" that God is reclaiming his Lordship over his creation and establishing his Kingdom on earth through the person of Jesus Christ (see McKnight's book "King Jesus Gospel" for a much more detailed explanation).

For those less familiar with this idea, what do I mean by the "Kingdom of God"? Simply put, the "Kingdom of God" refers to the reign of God. It is the space/time where heaven and earth are "married" together (to borrow language from NT Wright).  Or, to wrap this idea in the story of Scripture: God created a good world and ruled over it as King. Humanity was created as His image-bearers to carry out His will in His Kingdom. However, our sin marred this good creation and turned humanity into traitors. Since then, humanity has attempted to bring back this blissful state lost in the Fall, but without success. Israel was chosen as a "kingdom of priests," called to be a outpost declaring the Kingship of God to a fallen world, but they also failed. Jesus is the completion of this story. Jesus, as God, entered our world, preached "the Gospel of the Kingdom" (Lk. 4:43), and was declared King through His death, resurrection, and ascension. King Jesus has defeated sin and evil and has initiated the return of His Kingdom to earth. This Kingdom will be fully consummated one day in the future at Jesus' "appearing" (parousia).

Now all this talk about a "King" and a "Kingdom" is inherently political language and leads to the first major concept of my political view--my primary citizenship is not to America. This seems like quite a backward statement to make for an American political view, but there it is. As Paul succinctly puts it, "our citizenship is in heaven" (Phil. 3:20). This is one reason why I've recently begun to shy away from saying the American pledge of allegiance--it would be a lie for me to do so. To swear "allegiance" is to promise loyalty and devotion to something above all other things. But the truth is I've already sworn my allegiance to another Kingdom, and the values of this Kingdom and of my earthly country will eventually and frequently clash. Yes, I could swear my allegiance to America, but I would be doing so with the knowledge that a time will come when I will choose God's Kingdom over America. Do I love my nation? Yes, but not more than my Lord. Do I want to serve my nation and help it achieve greatness? Yes, but not if it's at the expense of God's Kingdom. I may be a citizen of both countries, but my allegiance can only lie with one.

This tenet of my political view has countless practical implications. Most notably, when I am considering candidates or policies, I am not looking for those options that will best benefit me, or even those that will improve America for America's sake. Rather, I am looking for the people and policies that best reflect the values of God's Kingdom and will help society to better reflect those values as well (more on this below). This does not mean I put my faith in government, nor am I looking for a "Christian nation," but these values nonetheless inform my political decision-making.

The next question becomes, "What are the values of God's Kingdom?" The answers to this question are probably what make my view unique in our current political climate. This question alone could be an entire book, and indeed such books have been written. But for my purposes here, perhaps the shortest way to sum up the Kingdom's values is to point to the two most important events in the Christian story--the Cross and the Resurrection. Let me explain these one at a time.

First, I believe the cross is more than simply a place where our sins were forgiven (although it is that too). The cross is also a powerful call to discipleship. Jesus makes this clear in His command to "take up your cross and follow Me" (Mark 8:34). I also see this mentality all throughout the writings of Paul, but he perhaps best sums up a cross-shaped discipleship in two places--1 Corinthians 1-3 and Philippians 2.

In the first chapters of 1 Corinthians, Paul critiques the Corinthians' tendency to create divisions and idolize certain teachers. To counter their unchristian behavior, Paul goes into a detailed discussion of how God's wisdom and power are revealed in the foolishness and weakness of the cross.  Jesus was ridiculed as foolish, weak, and shameful because of the cross, but we as Christians know that this place of failure was actually one of God's greatest successes. Paul then stresses that Christians ("little Christs") are a people of the cross. If Jesus found wisdom and power in the form of weakness, foolishness, and humility, then we shouldn't rely on worldly "strength" or "wisdom" either. Later in 1 Corinthians this attitude will lead Paul to say we should live by "love" and even be willing to sacrifice our rights for the sake of others. Philippians 2 similarly outlines how we are to have the "same mind" as Jesus. What did Jesus do? He "took the form of a servant" and "made himself nothing" by "becoming obedient" even to the point of death.

Now compare that to our culture and to typical American politics. The goal of our society is to gain more, become more powerful/influential, brag about your strengths, demand your rights, and defeat our enemies. We don't see humility as a strength among politicians. In fact, we condemn our representatives and candidates for "apologizing" for our country. We might talk of wanting politicians to "serve" our country, but what we really want is for them to lead us with power, strength, and might. These same mentalities have led to an extremely polarized political climate. We can't even listen to the other side or EVER admit that any of "their" ideas are good because just giving them the time of day is seen as a "compromise" of our "values." Humility and servanthood are weaknesses.

However, my political view is shaped by the cross. This means I start from a place of humility. I recognize I am no better than my political opponent because I am just as in need of grace as him or her. I also recognize that true strength and wisdom are not defined by the world. They are defined by God, and what God declares is powerful often looks like "weakness" to my culture. What God says is wise often looks "idiotic" or "naive" to onlookers. After all, who would believe that a poor man executed as a traitor could be crowned as King and overcome the evil powers of the world through that execution?

Thus, my cross-shaped politics lead me to seek certain policies and attitudes because I am convinced they are closer to what God's Kingdom looks like. For example, I want to discourage military force in national policy as much as possible not because of some liberal, "bleeding-heart" sentimentality, but rather because I've pledged my allegiance to a King who said "love your enemies" and who died for all people, including foreigners . Or, I am willing for our country to do more for illegal immigrants and refugees because I believe we can afford to suffer and pay a little for the sake of showing compassion to "the least of these." Or, I abstain as much as I can from personal attacks and try to give the person speaking the benefit of the doubt not because I am "wishy-washy" or lack convictions, but rather because a central conviction of mine is to be ruled by humility. These are not easy positions to hold, and they may not always work "practically," but the point is not whether they "work," but whether they are "right" in God's eyes.

The second key event that informs my doctrine of politics is the Resurrection of Jesus. The Resurrection is the pinnacle of Jesus' life on earth. It is the moment when heaven and earth collided in a visceral way. In the Resurrection, Jesus is vindicated as the King over the universe, and God's saving act of bringing heaven to earth is begun. In the Resurrection, the ancient enemy of Death is defeated as Jesus embodies the future of His redeemed world.

This impacts my political view in multiple ways. First, it reminds me that Jesus is my rightful master, and that He sits on the throne above the American kingdom. I sometimes hear Christians say, "At least we can take comfort knowing that Jesus is still on the throne." However, what bugs me about this comment is that people only really say it when something has gone wrong for them: "Well, we didn't get our candidate into office, but at least Jesus is still King." "The government just passed another stupid law, but we know Jesus is still on the throne." It's kind of sad, really. We seem to turn Jesus' eternal Lordship into a personal coping mechanism.

But if we take seriously that Jesus has overcome evil, defeated death, guaranteed that our bodies will also be raised, and promised to bring heaven to earth, then how can Jesus' Kingship not impact us every day of the year?! For me, the knowledge that Jesus reigns drives me to action. If Jesus' Kingdom has broken into our world by way of His life, death, resurrection, and ascension, then my citizenship in that Kingdom means my church and I are "colonies" of that Kingdom. Whether things are going well or poorly, I work to make my world look more like God's as we wait for His appearing.

The Resurrection also informs my politics by giving me hope and security. One of the discouraging things I see in the current presidential race is how often people are driven by fear and anger. However, if I truly believe that Jesus is on the throne, then I have no reason to fear, even when evil seems to run rampant in my world. I also realize that "perfect love drives out fear" (1 Jn. 4:18) because Jesus is alive as King. Even if there are physical or existential threats to my existence, Jesus taught me not to fear those who can destroy the body but not the soul (Mt. 10:28).

So, where does all this leave me? I've certainly given many theological thoughts, but you might be wondering about how all this applies to politics. For starters, I do not believe there should be a wide chasm between theology and politics. I can't compartmentalize my faith (that's the topic of tomorrow's post). It should inform every aspect of my being, including my political side. Now, I may or may not use Christian language in public discourse, and I am certainly not looking to create a theocracy, but my faith cannot be divorced from my politics.

Therefore, when it comes to applying my faith to the political realm, what I try to seek is an approach that transcends parties and ideologies. To return to a theme I mentioned above, I strive after "Kingdom politics." If you ask me if I'm a Republican or Democrat, I will say neither because both sides have their strengths, and both certainly have their weaknesses. My political perspective does not neatly fit into either category.

For example, I consider myself "pro-life" in the sense that I despise abortion and would love to see it end. This tends to line up more with those on the Right (although I have some major differences with many on the Right when it comes to abortion as well). Likewise, I oppose "right-to-die" measures on the same grounds, like many conservatives. On the other hand, I also strongly support care for the poor and ending the death penalty because I am "pro-life." This tends to line up better with liberal platforms. My "pro-life" conviction is derived from my faith, and my faith teaches me that all life has dignity, whether it is in the womb or whether it has sinned beyond what we humans think we can forgive. I must be "pro-life" regarding all life, not just life in the first 9 months.

I personally still believe homosexuality is a sin (like many on the Right), but I also believe gay marriage should be legal (agreeing with those on the Left) since state/civil marriage is fundamentally different than religious marriage. And while some fellow Christians might critique me on this issue or claim I am just "watering down" a "Christian" message or "capitulating to the culture," my reasons for these political beliefs actually have a well-thought out rationale rooted in my faith (check out my thoughts here for a more in depth analysis).

I agree with conservatives that government should be limited, including on the topic of healthcare, but I appreciate Democrats and Obamacare for attempting to make healthcare more accessible to Americans, and particularly to the poor. Both positions come out of my faith which teaches me to recognize the limits and risks of earthly power but also bombards me with countless Scripture verses about caring for the poor and marginalized.

I greatly appreciate the Constitution of the United States and believe it is a crucial document for maintaining freedom in our country, but I would also be willing to go against the Constitution and be called a traitor if that's what it took to follow Jesus. The life of my King is more binding than any human-made document.

When it comes to topics like immigration or terrorism or gun-control, these too are topics that I do not approach as a conservative or liberal. Rather, in each situation I look back to Jesus and seek guidance from His example. I also consider research and science, but the story of Jesus serves as my compass (this will be the subject of Part 3 of this blog series). Sometimes this might mean I agree with liberals, other times I might agree with conservatives. More often than not, it probably means I fall somewhere in the middle.

So there you have it, or at least part of it. Of course my political views are much more nuanced than I can put in a single blog post, but I hope they are counter-cultural. Indeed, even that admission of complexity runs counter to our culture of sound-bytes and stereotypes (this week's Presidential "debate" is a perfect example of the dumbing-down of America's political rhetoric). It's easy to shout down a caricature or denounce a sound byte. But to listen to another person and actually understand all the nuances of their beliefs is difficult. It takes time.

So next time I make a "political" comment, please don't assume you understand where I am coming from unless you are willing to have a lengthy conversation about my religious motivations. You're welcome to disagree with me, but don't try convincing me I'm wrong unless you tie your perspective into your faith as well. And please, please don't stoop down to simplistic, polarized, partisan assumptions and attacks. You might try to accuse me of being a "bleeding-heart liberal" or a "narrow-minded conservative," but you'd likely be wrong. You can certainly feel strongly about your position, but understand that I also feel strongly about mine and that I have spent a great deal of time coming to my conclusions.

As I wrap up, I want to make two requests of you this election season if you are a Christian. First, try evaluating your political convictions in light of your religious convictions. And don't just stop at the tired, old issues--abortion, religious freedom, same-sex marriage, etc. Rather, re-examine ALL the issues. What does your faith have to say about gun-control, the death penalty, war and diplomacy, poverty, economics,  immigration, and other topics? I won't demand you come to the same conclusions as me, but I will ask that you at least ask the question.

The last request is to maintain civility and an open-mind during this election season. It's too easy to follow the siren-call of anger, personal attacks, and stereotypes, but these do nothing to advance truth. They only make everyone angry. If you really do care for our country and really do care about the truth, then perhaps the best thing you can do is shut up and listen to perspectives which differ from yours. You can't judge a position unless you thoroughly understand it, and you'll never understand it if you never truly listen to it. You never know, you may have to change your views. Maybe you'll even agree with me...

(Want to keep reading? Check out Part 2 and Part 3 of this series.)

Faith and Economy

Share

This past week a study was released that estimated the economic impact of religion on the U.S. economy. The study concluded that the annual revenues of faith-based organizations totaled more than $378 Billion each year, making religion a bigger business than Facebook, Google, and Apple combined! If you read the actual study, you'll also see that the number could even be as high as $4 TRILLION, or nearly one quarter of America's GDP as the good folks over at Get Religion noted. Those are massive numbers!

While listening to NPR yesterday, one of the segments referred to this study. Since the study included organizations as varied as church congregations, social service agencies, and charities, the radio hosts asked the audience if they give to faith-based organizations. The responses were quite eye-opening.

Many (in fact most) of the callers I heard stated they did NOT give to churches or faith-based charities. The reasons given were several: Churches spend too much on themselves; faith-based charities don't offer anything non-faith based charities don't; I want to pay to help people, not to have someone preach; not enough money actually gets to people in need; there's not enough oversight or transparency. I was struck by the repeated cynicism.

However, my shock was likely due to the fact that I live within Christian circles. I have grown up around and worked with many Christian institutions that have done amazing good in communities. But perhaps these responses to the radio question reveal that much of our society does not automatically share that assumption. What do we do with this? What do we take away?

First, it would be rash to simply dismiss the criticisms. We could easily point to the fact that these faith-based charities have helped millions of lives. Or we could point to the largest faith-based sector--healthcare. An estimated 1 in 6 hospital beds in our country belong to a Catholic health system. One response to point out that religion both boosts the economy and helps millions of lives. However, maybe we should approach these criticisms with a bit more humility. Is there any truth to their concerns?

I think many of the concerns I heard on the radio were valid. When it comes to faith-based charities, I think many Christians will blindly give because an organization claims to be "Christian" without doing enough research into how effective the charity actually is. There may indeed be secular organizations that are run more effectively and have better research to support their methods, but sadly many Christians will give money to the one with the "Christian" name.

The same applies to media and entertainment. A "Christian" movie with sub-par plot and production values will be released and Christians will dump their wallets for it because it has a "Christian message." Or we will choose to donate money to Christian radio stations in order to hear more overly-produced, shallow theology, lacking-creativity songs, rather than donate to a public radio station that often prizes journalistic integrity and meaningful, original discussion.

The correlation between religion and money should give us pause, particularly when we see these tendencies among Christians. It is far too easy for Christians to be duped into a shallow commercialism as a substitute for our faith. Greed among both Christians themselves and those marketing to Christians is too strong a temptation. Yes religion is big business, but maybe it shouldn't be quite as big.

Second, we need to listen to the hesitations about giving to faith-based institutions when it comes to local congregations. After faith-based health care, one of the next largest economic segments was individual church congregations. Americans give nearly $75 billion per year to individual churches and religious congregations. In listening to the comments on the radio, this was the type of giving about which people seemed to have the greatest reservations.

But, truth-be-told, I too have big reservations in this area. It's no secret that the majority of the budget for most congregations is spent on the building and grounds. Whether it's a small, dying church overpaying to maintain an aging building, or a megachurch dropping millions for a new state-of-the-art facility complete with stage lights, smoke machines, and a coffee bar, the mentality is the same. I find this a particularly uncomfortable position when I read passages in Scripture, such as Acts 7 where Stephen is killed for challenging the idea that God can be contained to a physical building.

For years churches have assumed that people would give money to them. Or, when giving has waned, we have relied on a good sermon on "tithing" to guilt people into giving. However, those days may be fading fast. If congregations want people to give money, particularly younger people like myself, they will need to re-evaluate how they are spending that money. If congregations continue to spend the vast majority of their budgets on buildings, salaries, and internal programs rather than on ministry to their community, it will be harder and harder to justify the morality of such giving to its members or to the world.

Third, the criticisms of faith-based giving should illuminate a false assumption the church has helped promote. In listening to the various comments on the radio, there was a latent assumption in many of them that faith-based work was somehow inferior to government or secular social services. Embedded within this assumption is the belief that faith-based groups and congregations are primarily focused on "the spiritual." "Yes, churches may give back to their community, but that's not their primary calling," or so the thinking goes.

But churches have also unwittingly pushed this belief. By taming the Gospel down to a mere mental agreement with a set of propositions ("I'm a sinner"--"Jesus died for me"--"If I believe in Him I can go to heaven"), and by reducing our eschatology to an escape to a non-physical dimension called "heaven" we have set up the narrative that the church (and anything relating to faith) is only secondarily concerned with the physical world and with societal concerns. We reason: If it doesn't relate to something "spiritual" or pertain to saving a person's soul, then it doesn't matter.

This is a gross misunderstanding of the Gospel Jesus preached. The Gospel Jesus preached is not about getting into a spiritual realm called heaven; it is about declaring a new allegiance to a Lord and a Kingdom that challenge the empires and powers of the world. A proper understanding of the Gospel should teach us that faith is as much about physical manifestations of grace, mercy, and forgiveness in the world as it is about the personal, inner manifestations of those dynamics of those things. If the church itself could recapture this Kingdom vision of the Gospel, then perhaps the world around us would be less likely to believe the false division between faith, spirituality, and work in the real world.

Finally, this study and the resulting comments should prompt the us to remember religion's broad impact upon society. Our faith not only impacts people's lives in a personal, inward manner, but it has also profoundly shaped our culture for the better. If it were not for religion, there would be far fewer hospitals in our country. If it weren't for the role of faith, countless additional Americans would go hungry and be homeless each year. If it weren't for people and organizations of faith, many orphans and refugees would not be alive today.

The cynicism I heard on the radio tended to too quickly dismiss the massive force of this positive impact. But I can't help but wonder if it's because we as Christians have also neglected this aspect of our faith. As mentioned in my previous point, we have relegated faith to the realm of the personal and metaphysical. Studies like this one should remind us that there is so much more to our faith than that. It should inspire us to continue the work of social justice and compassion for our neighbors. It should drive us to become even more creative within our culture. We can't force outsiders to our faith to accept the positive role of religion in society, but we can live out our faith in such a way that it makes it impossible to ignore this positive impact.

In summary, this study should cause people of faith to both be thankful and to practice introspection. We may be thankful that our faiths have contributed so much good to society. However, we should also take a hard look at our practices and use of money to see when the criticisms of outsiders may in fact be warranted. To do any less would be to forsake our calling in the world.

September 12th

Share

Yesterday, our nation marked the 15th anniversary of September 11th, arguably the worst national tragedy since Pearl Harbor.  Across the country memorial services remembered the lives lost and the heroic acts of bravery. Since September 11th fell on a Sunday this year, many church congregations also joined in the remembrances or had patriotic services.

During many of these services and memorials, as well as on social media, we saw and heard the refrain that we must "Never Forget" 9/11. Now, if we take that sentiment seriously, the task of remembering 9/11 and the accompanying lessons begins today--Sept. 12th. After all, with any holiday or remembrance, the temptation is to forget and move on starting the following day.

However, the challenge with all of this is that the patriotic anthem of "Never Forget" is a bit more ambiguous about what we should remember. At the surface level, we obviously are to remember the event itself, but below the surface many other statements also ask to be believed and remembered. Intertwined with these memorials, we are invited to believe many possible messages: America is the greatest nation ever; America deserves our allegiance; Islamic terrorists should be destroyed; Muslims are evil; an eye for an eye; we need a strong military... On and on the list could go.

However, I think one message we actually should take away from this concerns the topic of Evil. No one will disagree that 9/11 was an "evil" day. The loss of nearly 3,000 innocent lives can be described in no other way than as "evil." But we as Americans have a strained relationship with the concept of "evil."

On the one hand, we often live our lives as if evil does not exist in our world in any significant way. This is largely due to the enormous amounts of security, stability, and prosperity we enjoy here in America. We don't go to work worrying about whether or not our family will be safe at home or if we will make it home from work. We are wealthier than the vast majority of the world. We live under a government that grants us countless freedoms and is far less tainted by corruption than most other counties. This is partly why the events of 9/11 were so shocking. We were not used to encountering evil, and suddenly evil came busting down our front door to stare us in the face.

On the other hand, we are sometimes too quick to use the label of "evil." In the aftermath of 9/11, our politicians, pastors, and pundits rushed to label the terrorists "evil," to call the nations associated with terrorism "evil," to describe an "axis of evil," and in some cases to identify Islam itself as an "evil" religion. Outside of dealing with terrorism, we thrown around the term "evil" in many other careless ways. We label opposing political parties and candidates as "evil" or speak of voting "for the lesser of two evils."

I suspect these two tendencies are related. We live a privileged life divorced from many of the harsher evils that run rampant in our world and are therefore shocked when a powerful evil strikes us. Likewise, since we are often shielded from horrific evils, we are confused about how to rightly apply the label and either attach it to everything we see or flippantly apply it to people or programs with whom we simply disagree. Unfortunately, such an aversion to and discomfort with evil results in poor decision making when true evil rears its ugly head in our midst.

This is perhaps one of the most important lessons we can take away from 9/11. In the aftermath of the terrorist attacks, the nation was brimming over with powerful emotions--fear, anger, a desire for revenge. Out of this emotional milieu, President Bush declared a "war on terror" a mere 9 days after the attacks, covert troops were inserted in Afghanistan 15 days after the attacks, and bombings and a formal invasion of another nation were initiated less than a month after 9/11.

Although some good came out of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq (such as greater freedom and rights, as well as better infrastructure for certain cities), it cannot be disputed that these wars caused just as much evil as the initial terror attacks themselves. While Al Qaeda killed 3,000 innocents on 9/11, the war in Afghanistan killed 3,500 innocent civilians in 2015 alone. As of March 2015 an estimated 210,000 civilians had been killed as a result of these two wars. They were killed by terrorists and insurgents, but also by American and coalition forces. They died as the result of bullets, bombs, poor health, loss of shelter, and starvation. Other estimates place the number in Iraq alone as high as 500,000, although these numbers are almost impossible to know as the U.S. government and military tends to refrain from keeping or releasing such numbers on the civilian costs to these wars. Add to that the roughly 1.5 million refugees from Iraq and 2.5 million Afghan refugees, and the human cost is staggering.

Additionally, after 15 long years of war against terrorism, we have come no closer to preventing or defeating terror than when we began. In fact, the situation today may be worse. The war in Iraq helped create a power vacuum, ignite sectarian conflicts, radicalize new terrorists, and throw the limelight of international attention onto extremists who previously would have had little or no following. All of these facts have culminated in the rise of ISIS--perhaps a bigger threat to both the U.S., Europe, and the entire region of the Middle East than Al-Qaeda ever was.

In hindsight, the problem should appear obvious--we were shocked and angered by evil, and chose to respond poorly in a knee-jerk manner. We demanded blood for the blood of victims that was spilled. And when the Taliban refused to hand over bin-Laden, we foolishly decided that we could defeat evil with bombs and bullets.

But here is the lesson those who are Christians should take away from our memorial services--we cannot defeat evil with violence. We cannot bomb evil into non-existence. We cannot kill enough people to make evil submit.

I will not go so far as to say that war or violence can never be justified, but I will say that we ought to be more wary of such calls in the aftermath of tragedy. Evil is a siren call that deceives us into perpetuating more evil under the banner of "freedom" and "justice." This temptation is exacerbated by the narratives of patriotism, nationalism, and civil religion that usually accompany such tragedies and attacks.

For Christians, when we find ourselves staring into the face of evil, our first response should be to gaze upon the cross--the greatest evil of all time. For it is the cross of Jesus that dealt with evil once and for all. For thousands of years humans have devised methods of overcoming evil, but none of them have succeeded. Only the life, death and resurrection of the Son of God actually responds to evil in a meaningful way. The true answer to evil is found at the cross, and our responses to evil--both individual and national--should be informed by that event.

The cross also reminds us that the world cannot be divided into "good" and "evil." As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote, "the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being."  In the wake of 9/11, our nation dubbed our enemies (ideologies, individuals, and nations) to be "evil," while at the same time presenting our own cause as righteous, just, and good. But the truth was so much more complicated. One reason for Islamic terrorism relates back to American imperialist tendencies in the Middle East going back decades, actions which radicalized numerous Muslims and Arabs. During the post-9/11 wars, we have killed innocent civilians, ignored the sovereignty of nations, and committed war crimes including torture. Now certainly we are not as bad as the barbarous individuals who carry out intentional, heartless attacks on civilians, but we must be honest and admit that we are not innocent or blameless either.

Focusing on the cross reminds us of that truth because Jesus died for the sins of all. He died because all of us have evil within us. He died because institutions, nations, governments, and places of power often become "possessed" by evil and commit atrocities. Simultaneously, the cross not only exposes our own guilt, but also illumines an alternative, counter-cultural way of responding to evil.

So how ought we to observe Sept. 12 and beyond? I suggest we do so by remembering not just 9/11, but also by remembering the cross. At the cross I am reminded that evil is constantly present in our world, so I should not be shocked by it. At the cross I am reminded that Jesus has dealt with and will deal with evil, so I can have hope. At the cross I am reminded that there are things worse than physical death, so I am not driven by fear in the face of evil. At the cross I am reminded that Jesus chose love, mercy, and sacrifice as the primary tools for overcoming evil; He did not buy into the myth of redemptive violence. So yes, let's "never forget" 9/11, but more importantly let's "never forget" God's response to evils like 9/11--the cross.

Christian or Realist?

Share

Those of us who are Christians frequently make the claim that we desire to "follow Jesus." We want to "be like Christ." Indeed, the very name "Christian" means "little Christ," which carries the same implications. But often, I wonder if this is really what we want to do.

The tension between "following Jesus" and our actual actions often becomes painfully obvious during election years when political conversations are at the forefront of our minds. You frequently hear Christians defend their political stance by referring to how it is a "Christian," "conservative," "godly," or "moral" position, but rarely will you hear anyone make a defense by arguing "Jesus would do this."

Perhaps it's because we're often afraid of what Jesus would do were he physically walking around today in America. When I was in elementary school, WWJD bracelets became a major fad. WWJD, of course, stood for "What would Jesus do?" However, think about if we were to apply that basic question to our political debates:

"Would Jesus own a gun? Would Jesus use a gun against a home invader?"

"Would Jesus say the pledge of allegiance?"

"Would Jesus fight in a war?"

"Would Jesus execute a terrorist or murderer?"

"Would Jesus support tax breaks for the rich or for the poor? Would Jesus pay taxes at all?"

To be sure, some of these questions are immensely complicated and may not have a clear answer, but many of these questions would see the vast majority of Americans and Christians arrive at the same answer.

The fact that we don't ask these types of questions more frequently perhaps betrays that we fear many of the answers. We know they won't line up with our decisions and actions.

Now at this point, there are two common responses. People will either say, "These are modern questions that Jesus did not address, so we can't make an appeal to Jesus" or they'll say, "Yes, it may not be Christ-like, but it's necessary."

The first form of push-back ("It's a modern issue") seems to be disingenuous. We hear from pastors over and over again that the Bible is relevant and that the Gospel can be applied to the whole of life. Why not to our politics? There are countless issues not found directly in the Bible, and yet we make faith judgments about them. The modern concept of abortion is not directly addressed in the Bible, and yet it's easy to bring the Bible to bear on that issue. The modern idea of romantic same-sex attraction as an orientation is a far cry from the types of "homosexuality" referred to in the Bible, and yet most Christians have an opinion on the matter informed by the Bible. Why should we not turn to the teachings of Jesus, such as the Sermon on the Mount, to inform other modern debates, such as on guns, war, nationalism, death penalty, health insurance, sexual violence, poverty, economics, etc.?

However, I find the second argument the more common: "It's not realistic to live out these standards in a fallen, evil world." If someone brings up Jesus' words about "turning the other cheek" or "loving your enemies," the response is almost always, "Well that's great for Jesus, but let's be realistic..."

Reinhold Niebuhr, the father of "Christian Realism," a
position that states Jesus' ethics cannot be fully realized on
earth because of the sinful tendencies of society

When faced with the tension of Jesus' words and actions compared to our reality, we always rush to use these types of phrases. "That's not realistic..." "These [sub-Christian] actions are necessary..." "We have to be reasonable..." "That just won't work because..." The argument always seems to be that the ethics of Jesus won't work in the "real world."

But the problem I have with this is the incarnation. We cannot relegate Jesus to being some far-off, spiritual deity. He was a real human who lived in a real place at an actual point in history. He faced his own very real political realities and was ultimately executed for a political crime--treason. If Jesus lived out His ethics in the real world, why do we rush to believe that we (His followers) cannot?

The question I'll leave you with is simply this--How many times are we able to do what is "realistic" or "necessary" before we fail to live like Christ? At what point does our compromise on the ethics of God's Kingdom and the Gospel lead us to cease following Jesus? At what point do we forsake the name of "Christian"?

The reality is you are either following Jesus and seeking to imitate His life, or you are not. "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the Kingdom of God." Yes, following Jesus' example may seem foolish, stupid, or suicidal at times, but isn't that the way the Gospel works?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For consider your calling, brethren, that there were not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble; but God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things which are strong, and the base things of the world and the despised God has chosen, the things that are not, so that He may nullify the things that are, so that no man may boast before God. But by His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God.”

1 Cor. 1:25-30