Recent Politics, Old Paradigms

What is—what should be—the Christian’s role in politics? There is no easy answer to this question. The present agitation among evangelicals in this election year recalls a debate extending back centuries.

In the 1500s, the Roman Catholic Church and the kings of Europe were locked in a contentious alliance—each side trying to maneuver into a position of supremacy. The operating assumption since the Middle Ages had been “Christendom,” a system within which kings and rulers were subservient to the authority of the Church. In breaking with that church, the Protestant Reformers found disparate answers to an age-old paradox.

The Scriptures assert that governments are “ordained by God” (Rom. 13:1) and that believers should “be subject to rulers” (Titus 1:3). The same Scriptures speak favorably of those who defy the laws of the land, including midwives in Egypt, Daniel in the lions’ den, and apostles chained in prisons. The question for the Reformers and for us: Who are we—what is our stance and role—in relationship to the governing powers?

Luther’s Two Kingdoms

Martin Luther’s analysis of this new situation drew upon the teaching of Augustine and proposed a doctrine of two kingdoms, both legitimate and God-ordained realms, but quite distinct in how each functioned. The kingdom of earth dealt with the messy world of sinful humans living and working together in arenas such as business, education, and politics. Distinct from that corruptible realm was the kingdom of God, characterized by biblical beliefs and practices (peace, compassion, mercy, love). Recognizing the dichotomy between these realms, Luther could assert that he would rather have a judicious king who was an infidel than an incompetent king who was an honorable Christian.

With Luther’s political perspective, it is easy for the ends to justify the means. When the Protestant Reformation was threatened by Roman Catholic and revolutionary powers, Luther condoned the bigamy of Prince Philip of Hesse and called for the slaughter of revolting peasants because, in his thinking, one should not require politics/politicians to always operate on the principles of New Testament teaching. Better to let the prince have multiple wives and rulers to use excessive force than to jeopardize the Reformation agenda.

Such a view might lead to disastrous consequences. In the 1930s, a German tyrant wedded his fascist program with a promise to restore war-ravished Germany to its true religious heritage. Along with a pure Aryan race, Hitler promoted a pure German faith—the one of Luther. Enamored with a leader who endorsed their values rather than the secular values of the Enlightenment, Lutheran clergy endorsed the rise of the Third Reich and later turned a blind eye to the growing persecution of Jews, homosexuals, and some Pentecostal Christians. Only a few, like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, sensed that the locomotive was “off the rails” and spoke out against this corruption of Luther’s biblical perspective.

Calvin’s Commonwealth

John Calvin, on the other hand, envisioned a Christian commonwealth. Rejecting Luther’s perspective of two distinct kingdoms, he proposed that the realms of faith and politics must be brought into alignment with each other. All aspects of private and public life must be brought under the dominion of Christ. He concurred with the prevailing view that the function of government (the law) was to restrain the wicked and to drive sinners to the gospel. But he gave particular attention to what he saw as the law’s third use: to establish a transformed community where biblical criteria would be used to assess every piece of legislation, every act of the government, and the conduct of every ruler and politician. So he saw no problem with imposing righteous behavior on all citizens of Geneva, even those who were of another faith or no faith at all. When Servetus, an immigrant who had fled France for religious freedom, arrived in Geneva, he was arrested because his views did not align with the official stance of the city. The public burning of Servetus remains one of the darker spots in the history of Calvin’s holy city.

As with Luther’s view taken to the extreme, we can find disastrous consequences to Calvin’s option. Shift our gaze to Protestant England, and we find Puritan zealots ushering King Charles I to a balcony in downtown London and there severing his head because his understanding of Christianity did not align with Puritan (Calvinist) perspectives. Should the leader of a nation be removed simply because that leader does not conform to godly expectations?

Menno Simons’s Separation

One other perspective merits mention. Menno Simons, an Anabaptist who gave his name to another group of Protestants, advocated an extreme separation between the two realms of Christ and the world. He taught that God allowed, rather than ordained, government as a way for wicked persons to avoid self-destruction. Without restrictive laws and forceful, even violent, actions to restrain behavior, ungodly persons would likely end up “doing what was right in their own eyes” (see Judg. 21:25). Menno would allow wicked rulers to use their corrupt politics to maintain law and order in the society at large.

But among the true followers of Christ, there should be no need for such un-Christian practices. True Christians live in simplicity and brotherly love. True Christians turn the other cheek rather than resorting to violence. True Christians care for the widow, the poor, and the destitute. So he directed his followers (e.g. Mennonites and later Amish) to withdraw from the political arena altogether, leaving the wicked to work out their own salvation with corrupt, immoral, even evil practices. To this day, Anabaptists conscientiously object to military combat and refrain from any active involvement in political matters.

Although values of simplicity and nonviolence were admirable at first glance, this countercultural withdrawal from the realms of business, education, and politics was unacceptable to the general populace. Anabaptists were seen as a threat to patriotism and an orderly society. To this day, this perspective is challenged for its overly idealistic approach to political realities.

The American Landscape

All three of these perspectives have been operative among Protestant Christians in America, recently in complicated ways.

Historically, a modest version of the Lutheran view has prevailed in American politics with its strong separation of church and state. Such a view has allowed diverse Christian—and non-Christian—groups to live side by side, without imposing their views upon others. Until recently, the prevailing attitude in America has been that religion and politics are private matters. All citizens are free to hold personal views, so long as they do not infringe on the rights of others. In recent election cycles, elements are particularly evident in Christians who dismiss a candidate’s character as long as desired results—the status quo or reforms—are promised and effected.

A more Calvinistic commonwealth view of government was evident in New England colonies. One sees aspects of it in the early- and mid-twentieth century, with the Eighteenth (Prohibition) Amendment, “in God we trust” being mandated on all currency, and “under God” being added to the Pledge of Allegiance. Then Harvey Cox’s scandalous The Secular City (1965) was followed by Jerry Falwell’s clarion Listen, America! (1980), birthing the moral majority movement and its progeny, now called Christian nationalism—infusing Washington and local politics with leaders who claim to hold to biblical authority in matters of both faith and practice.

And some Protestants have clung to the Anabaptist option and, for lack of any viable Christian outcome, have absented themselves from the political arena altogether. Areas of Pennsylvania and Indiana still have significant groups that avoid participation in the worldly system of politics.

A Wesleyan Conflict and Appeal

John Wesley’s personal story sheds light on our current situation. His father, Samuel (1662–1735), ardently supported the Glorious Revolution that placed William & Mary on the British throne. Samuel’s wife, Susannah, remained loyal to the deposed and exiled Catholic king, James II, even refusing to join in Samuel’s evening prayers for King William of Orange. The opinions ran so deeply that the parsonage couple scandalously separated. Samuel said, “If we cannot share the same king, we must not share the same bed.” After a year apart, the couple reconciled, effecting the birth nine months later of son Charles, the writer of more than six thousand hymns.

Surely knowing the family story, Charles’s older brother John (1703–1791), founder of Methodism, eventually filled fourteen volumes of “collected works”—journals, theological treatises, and sermons. There we find only two overtly political opinions: In his essay “On the Scarcity of Provisions,” he opposed the passage of Corn Laws offering economic advantages to distillers using grain to produce gin at the cost of sufficient food for the populace. And in a personal letter, he encouraged William Wilberforce to press forward in his anti-slave-trade efforts.

Personally I’m most intrigued by a few sentences of electoral advice addressed to his followers—advice apropos to our present age, our current political climate:

Vote, without fee or reward, for the person judged most worthy; speak no evil of the person voted against; and take care [your] spirits are not sharpened against those who voted on the other side.
—John Wesley, October 6, 1774