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The Story of Power and the Power of Story

Being part of this Respectful Conversation over the past seven months has been invigorating. It’s required me to look for themes in the writings of my collaborators and commenters, to uncover where the defining questions lie, and to apply my sociological imagination toward making sense of contemporary American Evangelicalism. The process has required me to reflect on my own argument as I imagined others reading it and to be far more attentive to major shifts in contemporary religious discourse. Knowing that I had to stake my personal claim in December hopefully sharpened my thinking.

1. What is your vision for the future of American Evangelicalism?

My June post made reference to James Davison Hunter’s To Change the World, in which he contrasts differing views of connections between evangelicals and the broader society. After reviewing “Purity From”, “Relevant To”, and “Defensive Against” (which was my reference), he ends by calling for “Faithful Presence”. This simple notion is profound in its implications. He says that Faithful Presence “is an expression of a desire to honor the creator of all goodness, beauty, and truth, a manifestation of our loving obedience to God, and a fulfillment of God’s command to love our neighbor.”

While there are a variety of voices competing for dominance in American Evangelicalism (and religion more broadly), I believe that the next decade will see an outbreak of Faithful Presence over more combative views of faith and culture. Some of this stems from changes we’re seeing in the faith of millennials. Even those who haven’t left the church are seeing the faith-culture relationship in very different ways than their parents and grandparents. They are far more aware of their identity as strangers in a foreign land who are trying to live as citizens of the Kingdom of God.

It’s entirely possible that the short term will see more combative language from many quarters. To quote former Vice President Cheney (though he was overly optimistic), “we’re seeing the last throes of the insurgency”. If the past four decades of American Evangelicalism has been defined by the power dynamics of culture wars, it’s going to be hard for major players (and their intellectual heirs) to simply give up the fight.

Over the long run, however, the posturing and argumentation of the former style will prove no match for the honesty and humility of Faithful Presence. This is because the Defensive Against posture must rely on overstatement, generalization, and politicization while Faithful Presence depends on old-fashioned testimony. To tell one’s story of faith in the midst of complexity yields an authenticity that is beyond reproach. In an age suspicious of posturing and hungry for relationship, one’s story has a power very different from the kind we’ve been chasing in the past. 

2. What do you see as the major challenges and opportunities we face?

There are two major challenges to my vision of an evangelical future: one external and one internal. The external challenge is the legacy of Christendom. We’ve created a perception of Christianity as pursuing a religiously oriented vision of a moral society gained through the influence of political power. The attempts to control outcomes become trigger events for pushback from secular audiences. These issues become part of the larger drama of charges and countercharges between evangelical public figures on the one hand and neo-atheists on the other.

This is buttressed by a more internal challenge: the cognitive frameworks defined by the idea of Worldview. Fifteen years ago, Christian Smith argued in American Evangelicalism: Embattled and Thriving (1998) that evangelicalism developed a subcultural identity based on being under assault from secularism and liberal Protestantism. I’d suggest that this attempt to remain separate relies on specific forms of scriptural argument and educational philosophy. However, it is a tenuous position. As Hunter observed in his book on Evangelicals sixteen years earlier, the realities of the modern world and the desire for acceptance or influence make separatism harder to maintain.

These two conditions are especially threatened by the dynamics of social change. The political vision is expressed in concerns over loss of control (even if control had never really been in reach). The worldview vision sees every shift in attitude or new interpretation as the beginning of the slippery slope toward worldliness.

But much has changed in the last two decades. The younger generation seems more willing to maintain diverse views due to their connection to social media. Some expressions of postmodernism allow a focus on dialogue arising from one’s clear values. Increased concern for those who are powerless (the poor, the trafficked, the innocent) prioritizes compassion over being right and separate. Heightened levels of education within evangelicalism have allowed a more complex view of engagement with those outside the subculture.

All of these shifts present an opportunity to rethink cultural engagement that allows faithful Christian testimony while avoiding the political name-calling of the Christendom argument or the isolation of the worldview argument. Rather than adopting the incorrect assumptions of secularization, it actually creates a tremendous opening for Faithful Presence.

3. What steps should American evangelical Christians take to respond to these challenges and opportunities?

One key changes necessary is to learn to be honest about our real situation. In recent months, Missio Alliance has posted a series of blogs about “The Scandal of Evangelical Memory”. These point out the ways in which we’ve told ourselves a history that isn’t complete. Two related points of argument come from careful histories, which separate our imaginings from what really happened. Edward Larsen’s Summer for the Gods (1997) documents how the Scopes trial unfolded in ways very different from how we’ve told the story (the town’s reply to an ACLU ad was one of the biggest surprises for me). An even timelier example is found in Robert McKenzie’s excellent new book about The First Thanksgiving (2013), which documents both the real history of the Pilgrim settlers and the ways the fictional communal dinner was used to support later American values.

A second key is found in changing the way we use scripture as a point of argument. Ken Schenck argues that there is great value in focusing on the broad common themes of the scriptural story rather than on the verses that divide. He correctly argues that we pick contentious verses as argument-enders instead of advancing the full Gospel story.

Finally, and most importantly, we need to find our way to trust the Holy Spirit to lead. This is part of the public’s interest in the recent actions and statements of Pope Francis. This morning, Father James Martin was on NPR talking about the pope. Scott Simon asked if the College of Cardinals were expecting these changes from Francis. Father Martin responded, “it shows you once again the power of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit does what the Holy Spirit wants to do.”

There is no better hope for the future of evangelicalism than that. 

American Evangelicals and Political Strength

The Christian faith has immediate political force through its central confession: “Jesus Christ is Lord”. God is the creator and governor of all things, the alpha and omega which includes Christ, the “Pantocrator” (“Ruler of all”, 2 Co 6:18; Rv 1:8, 4:8, et.al.). In the gospels, hearing and believing Jesus proclamation is the rule of God; and for Paul, this constitutes a “citizenship” of all who are in Christ (cf., Ph 3:10). Although Christian relationship to worldly, political power is one of deference (cf., Ro 13) as well as resistance “we should serve God rather than man” (Ac 4) the Christian hope is the universal reign of Christ in the messianic consummation of history and the recreation of all things (1 Co 15). Until then, it is through the proclamation of the Gospel that Christ’s Lordship is extended throughout humanity until the final revelation when “the meek shall inherit the earth” (Mt 5:28).

The history of the political in Christianity is massive and can be traced according to two vying systems of government: monarchy and democracy. Paul as an apostle of Christ could have exercised monarchial authority, but his key texts point to shared authority with all members of the church (cf., I Co 4-6). Although there are elders or bishops for the churches, their role is to lead and instruct by example more than to rule. Hierarchy is not prominent but relativized in the NT in light of the Lordship of Christ and the pneumatology of church order. The expansive early church quickly extended itself beyond the limits of the Roman Empire and the world has been trying to come to grips with it ever since. This is fatefully exhibited in the adoption of Christianity as the religion of Rome in Constantine’s appropriation of biblical symbols for his reign and realm. By the end of the 5th century, this so-called “Christendom” was too small for the reality of the church, particularly just beyond the borders of the Roman Empire in the Middle East and beyond. Christianity would have fared much better as a tolerated religion rather than as the religion of the state. Among the many disastrous consequences of being morphed into the imperial religion was the severe limitation of the church in terms of its vitality and unity as a global community. This “Christendom” begins to break up in the great schism between Rome and the Eastern churches in 1054 CE and then finally in the Reformation. The monarchical model of political power wanes with the progressive emergence of the democratic model combined with the rule of law (cf., Marsilio of Padua).

Probably the most important political text in the history of Christian theology is Augustine’s City of God (early 5th century). Augustine’s model of justice is only possible where the human heart is guided by love for God. Augustinian critique became a key feature in the history of limited government and the state as social contract. In the history of political thought, the fear of democracy is not defined by the rule of the mass or the majority. Instead, the democratic principle is demonstrated by the responsibilities of self-governance by each citizen along with the state’s obligation to protect all individuals and minorities within its orbit. By end of the 16th century, Christian diversity in Europe was so evidenced that political religion had had to yield to the principle: “cuius regio eius religio” – “his region, his religion”; cf., Peace of Augsburg 1555; expanded in the Peace of Westphalia 1648. Although applied to princes, the essence of this principle was extended to each and every citizen beginning with the American Constitution. Religious liberty tethered to freedom of speech was also finding its most important evangelical theology in the work by Roger Williams, The Bloody Tenent of Persecution for Cause of Conscience in 1644 – far ahead of Locke’s essays on toleration. The importance of Williams’ book is its theological argument for the separation of religion and civil authority – which would be echoed centuries later in the Vatican II declaration on religious liberty: Dignitas Humanae (largely through the contribution of the John Courtney Murray).  

In the past couple of decades the rise of political theology has been notable and evangelicals have certainly contributed to the wide ranging conversation. “Political theology” as a term used to be thought of as too provocative and the recommended “public theology” was more in evidence. Theologians tend to analogize between ecclesiology and political reasoning, but certain difficulties with this approach need to be emphasized. Ecclesiological forms that are hierarchical do not easily recommend democratic norms. Democracies are hybrids of separated powers: executive, legislative, judiciary and citizenry. Only the citizenry possess virtually unlimited rights; the branches of government are limited and circumscribed. The political vision of the NT is focused upon the citizenry as it answers above all else to Christ and as it achieves formation through his teaching. Interestingly, one of the most influential books in contemporary in this regard was by the Mennonite theologian, John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus (1972). Yoder’s influence on reasoning about the nature of the political cannot be overestimated. As a theologian of the Free Church tradition, Yoder pointed to the Post-Constantinian condition in which all churches find themselves to their own benefit as well as to the citizens and government of the world. The settled principle of the separation of religion and state means that no religious institution or tradition may be allowed to coerce the conscience of citizens or communities. Instead, each is free to exercise religious belief and practice – with great political potential, as their conscience directs them. If there is a purpose to political theology it is in the pedagogy of self-governance on the part of all citizens.

The political task before American evangelicals is momentous, consistent with the cosmopolitanism of Winthrop’s “city on a hill”. Evangelical cosmopolitanism is the call to bear witness to divine justice and grace in politics not only for the nation but for the world. At the heart of evangelical engagement with this world is of course Paul’s ethic of freedom and love in Christ (Ga 5). In the world of politics, governance is a conversation among office holders and the citizenry leading to legal decisions and enforcements for the common good of all. Party politics may be unavoidable but they are at best extra-curricular to governance and at this point foster such demonization as to destroy public trust. Other alliances are far more helpful, such as the Evangelical – Catholic one forged in recent decades. Part of the current political watershed can be seen in the new pope, Francis I, who has made it quite clear that he is preparing to advance the teachings of Vatican II that he and the previous popes have translated politically into a cosmopolitan vision of the world – a community of nations guided by universal human rights. Evangelical cosmopolitanism should orient itself to the human being with its inherent capacities for benevolence and shared governance as created in the image of God. These human capacities are evidenced not merely in service to humanity through good governance but especially in self-governance – our daily decisions that exemplify life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The opening phrase in the Constitution: “We the people” exhibits what I call elevated populism where the American social contract is the sole political foundation government.

The freedom and the right to self-govern bring a very tall order in terms of teaching and learning that is the political process for every citizen. The political dimension of the Reformation based itself upon the instructional mode of Jesus’ benefits to humanity. Sola scriptura became indicative of that which alone is sufficient knowledge for human salvation. The immediate benefit of this is embodied in the first freedom of conscience. But Evangelicals vote at least 75% Republican in nearly lockstep fashion. A multitude of younger evangelicals have been protesting this false obligation for over a decade. Nevertheless, evangelicals represent the party’s vanguard. Combine that with a heady disposition of righteous superiority and we have a mix that is doomed to political failure. The intensification of conservative identity politics as the most recognizable feature of the evangelical agenda in public life has dire effects upon the evangelical movement. For over a decade the population of evangelicals has been in decline relative to the population of the US and, even more ominously, its average age has moved into the retirement years. A deep generational divide represents a political diversification that is already making itself evident in the political process. The next rounds in national elections will make this trend even more visible. The American electorate has never been so dissatisfied with Congress and Republicans with their party. Yet there persists the politics of culture war and personal attack. The original Augustinian insight, of the deeply flawed nature of all politics, could help to goad people back to reality.

In any case, politics should always be indirect and secondary at most since Christianity has its own higher mission. Unfortunately, that mission is easily derailed by political passions. The congregational governance of the church is rooted in the allegiance of every believer to Christ and his supremacy. As a result, Christianity denies all governments any claim to ultimacy. This is the fundamental basis for the separation of church and state: allegiance to Christ cannot be defined politically. The book of Acts delivers a moral apologetics to the empire, that the church will furnish it with model human beings. But this does not include a promise of superior government. Only Christ’s coming will accomplish that. Until then, everyone who rules is unavoidably a party to the radical evil of the human condition – abetting it or restraining it. Relatively noble ends are achieved through allegiance to Christ, not to government. The American contribution to the history of government is conspicuous because it takes serious the problem of human depravity. The Constitution puts everyone into continuous political competition. Since human law will forever be a work in progress, political competition is the mechanism in disallowing concentrations of power as well as restraining all powers. Although evangelicals are free to follow their consciences in terms of the political process, just like they are concerning military service, the more they concentrate on the higher callings of Christ’s mission in the world, the better they can exemplify citizenship to their own governments.

Many evangelical speakers extol the influence of Christianity in the watershed movements of US history: Revolutionary War, abolition of slavery, civil rights, etc. The often do not realize, however, how radical these movements were. The complexity of ridding the country of the abomination of slavery that many defended as God’s plan was just as radically economically. It can hardly be imagined how revolutionary the destruction of this institution was, divesting slave holders and the Southern economy of their primary source of wealth. All wars are political and the Civil War supremely so. The lessons of that war and its salutary effects upon American governance must be continuously studied and taught.

What are the political priorities of the evangelical future?  We take our cue from King and Yoder: evangelical politics are first and foremost about character and the capacities of the human being. Too seldom in this context do we hear Jesus’ most excellent words: “The rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them but with you it shall not be so” (Mt 20:25-26). The Civil Rights Movement was a massive educational effort that very concretely achieved transformative effect. Civil disobedience was dangerous and many lost their lives or livelihood for this cause of conscience. The price was worth it in the face of continuing legal inequality and widespread toleration of lynching.

Evangelical politics is a pedagogical process, a program of education for citizen rights as a form of governance. This pedagogy in Christian practice is about how the decision making individual engages his or her social environment and its massive problems. Evangelicals should become a little indifferent to political parties and rather vote their conscience as best they can. The global tendency is to move toward direct democracy. Reminiscent of Calvin, first and last on the evangelical political agenda is promoting “civic righteousness” through their public voice. Here, Paul’s admonitions in Romans 13 come into view. In that passage, the bar is set comfortably low for pleasing government and honoring its officers. The bar stands firm as well in the meting out of punishments for those regarded as violators and rewards for those government finds worthy. But it needs to be understood, as Augustine so well did, that civic righteousness is paltry compared to what benevolent Christians can do. We must realize however that we are called to benevolence with or without the inducement of human government. When we do so according to obedience to Christ we do something that just may rejuvenate political life.  

I cannot leave this page without a little comment on “liberal” and “conservative”. In recent years, statistical science and qualitative research have become sophisticated tools for understanding what is regarded as a basic anthropological duality. Liberal / conservative may not correspond to male / female, but it comes close! Depending upon who is doing the study, the one investigates the deficiencies that caused identification with the opposite: liberal or conservative. Liberal / conservative does not in the first instance correspond to orthodoxy / heresy either. By the time of the Synod of Orange, Augustine’s strong predestinarianism had been moderated by “free will” (the origin of “liberal” in the theological context). Politically, anyone who rejects monarchy as a form of government is a kind of liberal. The conservative populism of the Republican Party is one form of liberal philosophy. The evangelical should stay above these depths if for no other reason that modern government as so extensively shaped by the Christian tradition should ever strive to achieve public trust.

The great political burden for American evangelicals is the pedagogy of civic duty. This involves universal literacy and the cultivation of responsible freedom. The national conversation is not about party affiliation but about truth and charity. Civic leadership must hear from the forums and venues of evangelical voices. Evangelicals must regain their commitment to a learned ministry and church members in lifelong learning.