Election Day and The Lesser of Two Weevils

Four years ago, when many Christians were first considering whether or how they could justify voting for Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton, I wrote an article at The Federalist addressing the vote: “9 Reasons Christians Don’t Need to Vote for the Lesser of Evils.” I revisited that article this week, given the considerable back and forth over John Piper’s recent article on the 2020 election: “Policies, Persons, and Paths to Ruin.”

What obligations do Christians have in the voting booth?

A common assumption behind all of these arguments is that Christians have a duty to vote, and that the failure to exercise this duty makes one responsible for the results. Not voting, or voting for a third-party candidate, is morally equivalent to positively voting for the other team. (Footnote: Christians in Germany could have stopped Hitler’s rise if they weren’t so submissive.)

This argument fails to grasp that the morality of a Christian’s vote is upstream of “Clinton versus Trump.” While the New Testament doesn’t directly address the question of how a Christian should vote, it does nonetheless present a uniquely Christian approach to civic engagement. Over the coming weeks, as we make our long, slow march to the polls, Christians should take this opportunity to reflect upon their unique callings in this world, and the deeper meaning and morality of the act of voting.

To wit, here are a few theological reflections on Christian duty at the ballot box, and why we need not vote for the lesser of evils.

This article isn’t a rejoinder to Piper, nor is it an affirmation of his views. But I do think it is interesting to see two different approaches to Christians and the state and our engagement in politics.

One key difference is perhaps a different view of Christian Liberty:

As a pastor, I often emphasize this “Christian liberty” in matters where God’s word is silent, such as voting. Christians are free to wrestle with their consciences in this matter, yet as a minister of God’s word, I have no authority to bind their conscience, other than to urge them to walk in love, which “does no wrong.”

Christian liberty keeps us humble. It reminds us there isn’t necessarily a proper “Christian way” to do everything. Our duties as followers of Christ are specific, limited, and mostly local. Very often, the way of love is the way of not doing harm.

Christian leaders should recapture the humility and wisdom of Christian liberty before they give counsel on how to vote.

God calls us to faithfulness as citizens, but our primary duty is submitting to those rulers God puts in charge. All authority is from him. This should be a great comfort as we face the great unknowns of the coming days (and weeks?):

The Bible tells us God used revolutions, poisonous mushrooms, and loyal secretaries to get his man (or woman) in office. The Apostle Paul wrote to Christians living in the eternal city during Nero’s reign, telling them that “there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.”

God is in charge. Today in America, he uses votes. It might seem more civilized to us, but it is no different. The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the Lord; he turns it wherever he will.

God is in charge. Praise God.

(You can read the entire article at The Federalist.)

On a lighter note, the “lesser of two evils” always reminds me of one of my favorite scenes in one of my favorite literary works, Patrick O’Brian Aubrey-Maturin series of novels (which was well-captured on screen in the movie, Master and Commander):

“Two weevils crept from the crumbs. 'You see those weevils, Stephen?' said Jack solemnly.
I do.'
Which would you choose?'
There is not a scrap of difference. Arcades ambo. They are the same species of curculio, and there is nothing to choose between them.'
But suppose you had to choose?'
Then I should choose the right-hand weevil; it has a perceptible advantage in both length and breadth.'
There I have you,' cried Jack. 'You are bit - you are completely dished. Don't you know that in the Navy you must always choose the lesser of two weevils? Oh ha, ha, ha, ha!”

Whether in the British Navy, or in the voting booth, remember that you need not always choose the lesser of two weevils.

Our Trouble With Submission: Grace Community Church

This article was originally published in Christian Renewal Magazine.

The Case of Grace Community Church

Much has already been said about the decision of Grace Community Church (GCC) and Pastor John MacArthur to defy the state’s COVID decrees by gathering indoors for public worship. I’d like to try to say something different about this issue, something that I hope constructively adds to this conversation. (In Part II of this article, I’ll follow up by addressing a few of the more practical issues related to COVID and worship)

First, quick background. After about twenty weeks of obeying California COVID ordinances against large indoor public gatherings, GCC announced that they would once again begin meeting in person, which they did in August. GCC is a large mega-church, with weekly worship numbering in the thousands. Legal action has ensued, including threats of fines and imprisonment from Los Angeles County health board. A judge has preliminarily ruled that the church may gather without threat, but a full hearing is still in the future. 

The question arising from this situation is whether and when a church should disobey the edicts of the state? Per Romans 13, obedience to the civil ruler is a good thing. Yet virtually every Christian agrees that we must obey God rather than man, and that there is a line which, when crossed, compels the believer to disobey. 

The difficulty comes in discerning where that that line lies. The vast majority of commentary on this issue in the COVID era has dived into the various details of how we much flexibility we should exhibit in our worship in an effort to remain compliant with the edicts of the state, while still fulfilling our mission as a worshiping body of Christ.

Here is where I want to depart from that well worn path and pursue the matter from a different perspective.

The Biblical Case for Submission

Submission is hard. 

The first sin in the Garden comes down to “Has God really said?” What did he really say, and what do you really have to do, especially when you’re really hungry and the fruit looks so delicious. Should you follow your heart, or God’s commands? 

When God sought to replant his people in the garden a second time — a land flowing with milk and honey — one of their biggest problems was their incessant tendency to grumble. I’m hungry. I’m thirsty. Are we there yet? Who does Moses think he is? Obedience to Joshua and the Judges wasn’t much easier, and it was these same people who of all things cried out for a King. And it went downhill from there. 

Paul’s teaching on submission to the civil authorities in Romans 13 is not in the context of relative peace and calm. Recall that five times he had received from the Jews the forty lashes less one. It was, in short, not an uncommon occurrence for him to be beaten within an inch of his life, and even if the Jews weren’t in a formal position of authority over him in the Roman empire, that empire had permitted such ruthless behavior and given Paul little protection. 

In Romans 12, Paul reminds us to “Bless those who persecute you, bless and do not curse them.” Further, never be wise in your own sight. Do what is honorable in the eyes of all. So far as it depends upon you, live peaceably with all. 

Note for a moment what a radical departure this is from the mission statement of the nation of Israel, who was to take the land by force, utterly destroy their persecutors, and reflect God’s holy dominion in their rule of that land on the battlefield. Paul’s turn in Romans 13 is a radical reorientation for the people of God around the heavenly kingdom that has come in the death and resurrection of their Messiah. Now they were not to occupy a physical territory between the river and sea, but to go forth and bring the blessings of a spiritual kingdom wherever they might dwell.

And this kingdom was not to have a revolutionary impact on the societies in which it dwelt. Do you remember the line in Acts 17:6 “These men have who have upset the world have come here also?” That was a slander of the Jews spoken against Paul and Silas, blaming the Christians for the riot they had started. 

Against this backdrop, Paul writes one of the most difficult commands in the New Testament: Bless those who persecute you. And further, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities… for those that exist have been instituted by God.” God has established the Los Angeles City Council, Governor Newsome, the Health Board. Just as much as he has instituted Nero, the vicious persecutor of the church. Just as he instituted Pilate, and the soldiers who drove the nails into Christ’s hands and feet. 

Be subject to the governing authorities. Not just the good ones. Not just the fair ones, not only the ones who share your estimation of the danger of the novel coronavirus. 

The problem isn’t that most authorities are on balance quite good and every once and awhile we have to put up with a stinker. No. Every individual that has ever been in a position of authority over another human being has always been a sinner. And while some may on occasion be good, many are unjust. This is why our catechism tells us to “be patient with their failings” in its teaching on the fifth commandment (Heidelberg Catechism 104). This is in the spirit of Peter, “Servants, be subject to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the unjust” (1 Peter 2:18).

Submission is hard, especially submission to foolish and unjust rulers. But we’re not given a hall pass for the difficult situations. We are not commanded to submit when it’s easy, or when it makes sense, or when the rulers are doing the proper thing. We are commanded to submit. There is of course the exception of Acts 5:29 — “We must obey God rather than man.” In context, we must preach the gospel, rather than be silent. But notice that Paul doesn’t articulate an exception in Romans 13. 

Our Trouble With Submission

America’s original sin is rebellion. No matter how justified you might believe the American Revolution was, it ultimately comes down to the claim that the authority of the King was unjust, and therefore was no longer worthy of submitting to. But Peter commands Christians to be subject to unjust masters. 

The modern spirit of freedom is expressed politically in the American Revolution, and it now infests us all. It is the air we breath. Our freedoms are sacred to us — interesting expression, no? — and we don’t question the regular need to rebel. Compounded with radical individualism and deep suspicion of institutions of all shapes and sizes, and the result is that the modern believer has a chronic problem of rebellion. 

Spiritual rebellion may be an unfortunate byproduct of political freedom.

Consider the matter of submission to Christ’s lawful authority expressed in the local church. In every single new member’s class and membership interview I have ever sat in, every single believer has agreed with the principle that Christ exercises his authority in the local church through elders and ministers. They have all agreed in their membership vows to “submit to the admonition and discipline of the government of the church.” 

Yet, if you ask elders how regularly members submit cheerfully to their admonition and discipline when it is needed, I’m sure you would get a consistent reply. Rarely, if ever. The church’s authority is good and fine, until it tells me something I don’t want to hear. Has God really said? Well, maybe, but the fruit looks so tasty and I’m so hungry. Surely he didn’t want me to starve and eat the same thing every day. 

Submission is hard, and I believe it is even harder for us today. Culturally and politically we live in a moment where individual freedom is celebrated. And it hasn’t generally made us more faithful Christians. 

Submission: A Teaching Moment and Practical Reflections

I have argued above that this situation is an opportunity for us to revisit the difficult issue of submission. Since we in the modern west hold our personal freedoms as sacred, it is difficult for us to hear the clear teaching of Scripture about submitting to God’s authority, whether in the home, the church, or the civil sphere. While there are limits to the state’s authority, it is my view that GCC has significantly lowered that bar for the sake of convenience. Furthermore, with much future state interference and opposition on the horizon, now is the time for us to raise the bar, and think in fresh ways about the importance of our witness to a watching world, that we might do what is honorable in the eyes of all and live peaceably with all. All. (Romans 12:17 – 18).

What follows are a few more practical suggestions on how the church might proceed in these perilous times.

God calls us to submit to his will in the church, the home, and the civil sphere. How shall we expect Christians to submit to their God-given authority in the home or in their local church when the local church doesn’t submit to their God-given authority in the state? In Romans 13, Paul is adamant on this point:

For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. (Romans 13:1 – 2)

So, what shall we then do? 

Should we expect our rulers in the state to appreciate the essential nature of Christian worship, and privilege it as highly as the procurement of food from the grocer or medicine from the doctor? Of course not. The civil ruler, though given by God, is ignorant of the things of God. They are not merely naïve, but oppositional by definition to the concerns of the spirit, as opposed to the body. They have expressly by God been given care of our bodies, and that is precisely why they seek to exercise such dominion over them.

So we should not expect favor from the state, but rather, persecution, implicit and explicit. We should expect them to place burdens, not benefits, upon our worship. And yet as Paul says, while being persecuted we should bless them, and seek to live peaceably among them, while endeavoring to worship faithfully as foreigners in this strange land. I doubt Daniel expected that the other Babylonian satraps, prefects, and governors would respect his sacred diet, daily prayers, or his abstinence from idolatry. Yet he remained steadfast when necessary to obey God rather than man, and stood ready to either receive the punishment the Babylon dished out, or be miraculously delivered from it.

How does this relate to GCC and John MacArthur? I believe our bar should be very high for defying an order of the state. Here are four practical reflections on how to set and navigate this high bar

How Shall We Worship?

It is not in fact clear to me that by prohibiting large indoor gatherings the state of California was prohibiting GCC from worshiping, per se. It is true that the church may have not been treated equitably in the eyes of the law, and they should pursue justice on that front. But many other churches have adapted to the circumstances by conducting worship in person outdoors, in smaller home groups, or other permitted methods . I understand that such accommodations place a huge burden on the business model of a mega church which regularly gathers thousands inside an indoor auditorium. Yet, Paul doesn’t say “submit to the authority when it is convenient.” He says submit. 

There is a different way forward. Due to prohibitions in the District of Columbia, Capitol Hill Baptist Church (CHBC) has decided to worship outdoors at an alternate location and time. They are meeting on Sunday evenings at a sister church in Alexandria, Virginia. This is approximately a thirty minute drive away from their historic church building on Capitol Hill, and a tremendous burden on their membership and leadership. Doubtless it involves great sacrifices. Yet these sacrifices are a powerful witness to their desire to live peaceably — and healthfully — with their neighbors outside the church, and gives great respect and honor to the authorities God has placed over them, even when it may not seem warranted. This orderly submission has not kept them from petitioning government officials vigorously for the freedom to worship together on Sunday morning, and indeed has perhaps given those petitions a better chance of being heard in a positive light.

Perhaps we should be more willing to rethink our methods of gathering, and in particular, the challenges that large mega churches will face. Open air services, micro in-home services, breaking large churches into regional or neighborhood gatherings. Maybe we should pursue smaller congregations in principle to be more neighbor-friendly and live more peaceably with our communities. GCC’s action seems to condemn all of these alternatives as less than faithful. 

I do not believe that Christians must stand by idly while the freedoms we possess in the west are eroded. We should, like Paul, us the law of the land and the courts to defend the privileges we possess as citizens, while preserving honor and respect for the state as God’s servant. But we must also recognize that privileges will indeed likely be lost, and learn how to worship faithfully under a more restrictive regime, even as many of our sister churches around the globe worship faithfully today.

When Should the State Be Defied?

The GCC statement defending its actions argues that Romans 13 “does not include compliance when such officials attempt to subvert sound doctrine, corrupt biblical morality, exercise ecclesiastical authority, or supplant Christ as head of the church in any other way.” This, to me, seems to set the bar way too low for when the state may be defied. I expect most governments to behave this way most if not all the time, especially with regard to “corrupting biblical morality.” When Paul wrote these words, he clearly was mindful that the civil authorities God had placed over him were bound to corrupt biblical morality on a daily basis. Yet he does not qualify his command to submit. This is why the Heidelberg Catechism tells us to be “patient with their failings.” Patience means we submit, if possible, even when they fail..

The church should never cede doctrinal or ecclesiastical authority to the state. But the standard for open defiance of a state edict must be more than attempted interference or burdening of worship. The church must defy any edict that directly conflicts with God’s law. GCC hasn’t demonstrated that is the case in California.

GCC submitted to the ordinance for 20 weeks, and then insisted that in principle it could do so no longer. It then gave public notice that it was going to defy the order, without any clear evidence that they have petitioned the state in any way for relief from these burdens. Why not conduct a lawful and orderly appeal of the state to the fullest extent possible, before pursuing civil disobedience? Further, if the burden could be borne for 20 weeks, why not 21? Why was there a limit to the duration to which they were willing to submit? Does Scripture give us a statute of limitations on Romans 13?

Finally, GCC argues that the passage of time has demonstrated that fears about coronavirus were unfounded, and it is precisely here that I fear that GCC has overstepped its spiritual boundaries and transgressed in the domain of the state. It is the state which God gives authority over our physical well being, and I am not aware of the Scriptures — the sole basis for the church’s authority — giving any clear advice on the lethality of viral infections, or appropriate public policy responses to them. Yet GCC has reached such a determination, and stands in judgment over the state on that matter. 

To be clear on this final point, citizens are free to question the edicts of the state — perhaps especially emergency edicts for the supposed welfare of the citizens. We are free to question the supposed scientific and medical underpinnings of these edicts. But this is not the expertise — nor the authority — which the church possesses, and when she holds forth as a body on such determinations, she sets herself up for public embarrassment. This has the potential of damaging our gospel witness.

Conclusion

In the coming years, the church will increasingly find itself out of favor with the governing authorities in the western world. Historic privileges will be revoked. Courtesies will be withdrawn. We will revert to a state a lot closer to Rome under Nero than America under Reagan.

How shall we then live? How shall we demonstrate our care for neighbor, our desire to live peaceably? I have not explored in this article the many ways in which the church’s gospel witness may be harmed by wrongheaded civil disobedience. How may the gospel be set back when a church spreads infection, as occurred early on during COVID outbreak in South Korea? How may our love for neighbor be doubted with the unnecessary suffering or death of even a handful of visitors to our gatherings?

This is not about the true health danger of COVID. Individual opinions may and should be allowed to vary greatly, in the light of Christian liberty, and our individual behavior as believers may vary widely as well. My own opinions are far from accepted wisdom.

But the church as an organized expression of the body of Christ is not ultimately tasked with determining risks of transmitting infectious disease. We are tasked with preaching the gospel, and obeying our civil authorities as far as possible. This, it turns out, is a much more difficult task. 

Submission is hard. 

Intermittent Fasting in the COVID Era?

Originally featured on Modern Reformation on May 12, 2020.

In A Shepherd’s Life, real-world shepherd James Rebanks tells of the real-world value of the shepherd’s crook, a vital tool in caring for real-world sheep. The crook remains the best tool to catch a sheep and enables the Shepherd to draw skittish sheep near so he can care for them.

How shall spiritual shepherds guide their flocks when God’s common grace shepherds — doctors and presidents — enforce isolation and distance, real absence, upon God’s people? How can we shepherd when our crook is broken?

There are a few ingredients necessary to begin to make an answer at this question: honesty, context, and the means of grace.

Honesty

First, I think it is essential that we acknowledge that anyone writing pastoral guidance in the seventh week of a radically new circumstance doesn’t really yet know what they are talking about. The world is flying blind with minimal data in the face of the coronavirus, and spiritual leaders are equally ignorant in grappling with its fallout.

Including myself. Full stop.

However, like a true fool, allow me expand on my ignorance.

We must acknowledge that many of our guiding lights from Christian history faced plague and pestilence with less knowledge than we have today. Calvin and countless others often showed great compassion and courage in desiring to visit the plague-stricken. They knew there was personal danger, yet they were willing to entrust their lives into God’s hands for the sake of caring for others. In Calvin’s case, he was prohibited from visiting the sick by the Geneva city council, mindful of this risk to his life and his immense value as a teacher to the church.

But we know a lot more about infectious disease today. We know, for instance, that visiting a sick person during a plague endangers not only the visitor and those she lives with, but also the community. We also know that even visiting a well person poses widespread risk during a pandemic. They too may spread disease. Selfless risks taken by heroes of earlier ages may rightly be judged selfish today. Thus, the Christian minister faces a more widespread distancing and isolation today than ever before, with fewer options. No visitors at deathbeds, no graveside prayers at burials.

So any advice today is a best guess. We must return to first principles, humble ourselves, and be able and willing to learn quickly and adapt.

Context

Before the coronavirus struck we were already living in an age of extraordinary isolation and individualism. That is perhaps the key context we must grapple with.

Before “Alone Together” was the Orwellian motto of government medical experts, it was the title of an important book by Sherry Turkle.

Turkle chronicles the pandemic of isolation that a generation born into a digital world is facing. This book is worth re-visiting today. We are surrounded by ubiquitous communications devices that are designed by the marketplace to give us the stimulating patina of “connection” while further isolating us — and isolating our dollars from our wallets. Sadly, most of those born as “digital natives” prefer electronic communication to face to face conversations.

During this pandemic it has been a commonplace for commentators to worry about the impacts of isolation, but who are we fooling? Our response to this pandemic is merely accelerating what we have been proactively trying to accomplish with technology for the past century.

It is true, isolation flies in the face of fundamental human nature and our longing for physical presence, communication, and contact. But it is not true that it flies in the face of the denatured humanity that increasingly populates our sin-stained world. Digital media gives a whole new meaning to Augustine’s descriptive phrase for sin, “curved in on oneself.” The real danger of enforced isolation is not that it is contrary to our wills, but that it gives us just what we want by nudging us further within.

Case in point: One of the great pastoral challenges of my ministry before the pandemic was scheduling a coffee. Or actually trying to talk with someone on the phone. I know that I often would prefer sending a text or email to picking up the phone, or sitting down with someone, when confronting a touchy issue. Or even when just catching up. It’s so easy. I can check that box, now they know I care. No need to send a thank you note — I gave their text a thumb’s up!

One of my greatest worries about pandemic isolation is that it plays to my sloth, it runs concurrent with the ethos and ease of electronic communication. “Look, I finished all my pastoral visits and I’m still in my pajamas!”

So here’s a practical tip, that also serves as a warning.

One of the first things we did in our small church was assign a deacon or elder to every member of our church. We set a goal of contacting everyone at least once a week and built a shared spreadsheet online for tracking our contacts. But I worry, is it enough? Would a personal visit, perhaps from the front porch, though less frequent, be better?

How would we manage this crisis without technology? How would we manage if it were permanent? Perhaps it would be healthy for us to ask those questions, and seriously consider the old paths before celebrating the victories of the new.

This context makes me worry that even as much as we miss and complain about the loss of public worship, an extended isolation will not in fact make the heart grow fonder for it. It will in fact chisel away bit by bit, mortar from the crumbling façade. It will weaken the tenuous bonds we share with the church, the visible body of Christ on earth.

Means of Grace

Word, Sacrament, and Discipline. These are the old paths, the marks of Christ’s church on earth.

All three of these marks require physical presence. The sacrament anchors this truth, but the preached word as well requires that an assembly of sinners sit still and corporately receive the saving message of God’s envoy, together acknowledging that apart from this grace we are in the same sinking ship. Discipline, in its extreme exercise, is fundamentally exclusion from the sacrament and its shared presence.

I have probably thought more about the means of grace in the last two months than anything else. The two big questions are the flip sides of a coin: “How shall we keep people from them?” and “How shall we bring people to them?”

Reflecting upon our real absence from the means of grace, I was reminded that whatever workaround we can come up with in our human wisdom can’t compare, can’t replace the divine wisdom of the means of grace. They are unique, and irreplaceable.

Like many church leaders, our church initially scrambled to come up with solutions to canceled gatherings on the Lord’s Day. We wrestled with whether to stream the entire liturgy, or just send our members a pre-recorded sermon. We wondered, are people really participating in corporate worship from home, is there true communion of the saints at a distance? I think not. Then why stream a service? Don’t we risk leading the flock astray by encouraging them to emulate the divine service in their living room?

Perhaps the most counter-cultural claim here is that the preached word cannot be fully received remotely. It would require its own article to defend, but I think the claim is this: so long as the viewer at home is in control, he is not sitting under the word. He is in charge so long as he can pause and fast-forward and schedule his consumption, can dress and position and wander his body in whatever fashion pleases him, and need endure no limits on distractions. The sinner that remains in the drivers seat has not truly been summoned before the judgment seat of a holy God.

At the end of the day, I don’t think absence will make the heart grow fonder. I don’t believe the lack of the means of grace will strengthen our confidence in the means of grace. If these are God’s chosen methods of blessing his people, starving us of them can only lead to less blessing.

Yet there is an opportunity in this loss, an opportunity to teach via negativa. In streaming our services, it has therefore been a priority to convey to those at home what they are not receiving. Viewing a remote feed of a Christian worship service is not worship. You are not a participant in the divine dialogue, you cannot stand and renew your covenant oath, you cannot taste, smell, and feel your participation in Christ.

Why, then, provide a simulacrum of a service online? Ultimately, we believe even this image of a service can serve as a crutch, an extreme measure to be used only until one heals. A crutch is a temporary help that no healthy person ever wishes to adopt as a permanent means of conveyance.

The next phase of our response resulted from this experience and reflection upon real absence, and from the limitations being extended. We began to ask ourselves how we could provide the genuine means of grace even under severe constraints?

In our context, this has meant restoring the Lord’s Supper and holding two small communion services, feeding 17 saints each Lord’s Day (due to the order not to gather in groups of ten or more). We have been mindful to make attendance voluntary, preserving each member’s liberty to measure the risks of small gatherings and their potential risks to others. Theoretically, a church with multiple meeting spaces could easily multiply this number by two or four or six. In a month of Sundays our small church can spread a table in the wilderness for 68, though one can imagine other churches communing and gathering many more in small worshiping groups.

We may not be able to commune our entire congregation in a single gathering. But we can commune them once or twice a month, and in the intervening times reaffirm how important those irregular meals are. This is like intermittent fasting for the soul: real hunger satisfied with real food.

In the face of future restrictions, we are likely to move immediately to maximally preserving word and sacrament under limited offerings, rather than suspending the sacrament in total.

Yes, being a pastor is more than administering the means of grace: visiting, praying, counseling are all integral parts of wielding the crook. But the means of grace are the building blocks, the foundation, the medicine we feed our sheep when the crook draws them close. Without a regular flow of their life-giving power all our other efforts are in vain. The best counsel, the best prayer, ultimately relies upon the means of grace, it points sinners to Christ in them, and brings them closer to him in his word, his table, his holiness.

A pastor’s official title is Minister of Word and Sacrament. My provisional advice is simple: Pastors, do not abandon your post. Stand firm. Do your job.

Before You Politicize the Pulpit...

Originally featured on Real Clear Religion on October 4, 2012.

For the faithful, Sunday worship is a respite from the cares of the world, a time and place offering peace, unity, and refreshment for the soul. What are the odds, with election season in full swing, that worshipers streaming into church this Sunday are looking political advertisements here, from the pulpit?

That's what Jim Garlow and the Alliance Defending Freedom (ADF) are urging preachers to deliver. ADF is promoting October 7th as "Pulpit Freedom Sunday," and is asking ministers to dedicate their sermons to explicit politicking. According to an online pledge, sermons should evaluate the presidential candidates according to "biblical truths and church doctrine," and make a specific endorsement. Launched in 2008, over 500 pastors signed last years pledge, though promotion of the event seems to peak in election years.

ADF's goal is to openly defy the 1954 "Johnson Amendment" to the tax code that prohibits tax-exempt organizations from making political endorsements. The provision has never been actively enforced, and by forcing the IRS to such action ADF hopes to trigger a court challenge and eventually have the provision overturned on constitutional grounds.

It's not clear whether the church doctrines of the Trinity or the hypostatic union should incline one to vote for Romney or Obama, but that is neither here nor there.

ADF believes the Johnson Amendment, though unenforced, nevertheless stifles religious speech of a political nature, silencing ministers by propagating an unconstitutional view of the separation of church and state. Garlow hopes to restore the pulpit to its prior and rightful place in our nation's politics, suggesting it played a leading role shaping public opinion during crusades for independence, abolition, and prohibition.

Constitutionally, ADF may have a great case. In our hyper-politicized age, the line between religious and political speech is an exceedingly difficult one to draw. Teaching on the morality of war and peace, on social issues including marriage, life, and finance are inherently political. It's not clear who in the IRS is qualified to evaluate religious speech for its political content, or what the political support would be for committing a few thousand IRS agents to enforcing this ban.

Perhaps this is why the Johnson Amendment has never been enforced, despite decades of quasi- or outright political activity in the form of voter guides and other exhortation. The degree to which ministers cower in fear of the IRS is questionable, and the role played by preachers in the Civil Rights movement post-1954 is prima facie evidence that the Johnson Amendment doesn't silence voices of faith.

Most would agree that it would probably be best for our political order if an unenforceable ban were no longer on the books, and ADF is correct that we need a renewed affirmation of the freedom of religious speech in the public square. But Pulpit Freedom Sunday clearly has a broader goal, that of encouraging and increasing explicit political content in the Sunday sermon.

But most pastors are reluctant to exchange their spiritual freedom from politics to demonstrate their political freedoms for politics. A survey of 1,000 mainline and evangelical protestant pastors released this week suggests that only 1 in 10 believe they should endorse a candidate from the pulpit, despite the fact that almost half plan to personally endorse outside of their church role.

Furthermore, previous studies have shown that this reluctance isn't based on belief that the government has a say on the content of their speech. Clearly, many pastors are constrained by the sanctity of their office, and in particular, the pulpit. They recognize the very real tradeoff that in our polarized age political speech may offend and drive off many members of the flock they are called to shepherd.

Furthermore, the New Testament offers no encouragement for direct political action. When Jesus was asked a trick question about the propriety of paying taxes -- is there any other kind? -- he asked whose name was on the coin, and told his followers to "Therefore render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's." Later, when on trial for his life, he did not deny his royal authority, but instead claimed "My kingdom is not of this world."

At a time when the major issue in Jewish politics was the overthrow of the oppressive regime, neither Christ nor his Apostles had a word to say about it. The Apostles surely could not conceive of a democracy, or shaping imperial Roman policy, yet they urged submission for the Lord's sake "to every human institution." In his letter to the Romans, Paul twice called the deeply flawed governing authority of his day -- that of Nero, persecutor of Christians -- a "minister of God" for good and evil. With Jesus, he urged for this reason the paying of taxes that were owed, along with honor and respect. Clearly, loss of tax-exempt status may be an injustice as well as a threat to our constitutional liberties, but it poses no threat to the well being of the church.

The primary message the New Testament commends to preachers -- "Christ, and him crucified!" -- is scarcely a political one. But this doesn't mean preachers should be constrained from speaking politically. One care barely open one's mouth on a moral question of the day without giving political offense, and no one would suggest God's word has nothing to say on these matters.

But the further the minister of the word ventures from the claim of "thus sayeth the Lord," there is a spiritual and political price to be paid. We risk squandering moral authority and offending the politically disaffected. The Gospel we are commanded to preach to all reaches a precious few, and the heavenly respite of worship becomes a good bit more earthly. Almost a century ago, J. Gresham Machen voiced a similar concern with the rise of politically progressive pulpits:

The preacher comes forward...not with the authority of God's Word permeating his message, not with human wisdom pushed far into the background by the glory of the Cross, but with human opinions about the social problems of the hour or easy solutions of the vast problem of sin. Such is the sermon. Thus the warfare of the world has entered even into the house of God, and sad indeed is the heart of the man who has come seeking peace.

The minister doesn't speak for himself; the title means "servant." Perhaps preachers should ask themselves, before they step up to the pulpit this Sunday, whether they'd feel comfortable reading on behalf of their boss the standard campaign disclosure when they're finished:

"I'm Jesus Christ, and I approve this message."

Christianity is Neither Conservative Nor Socialist

In 2011 I was asked to write an article for @DailyCaller addressing the question, “Is Christianity Conservative or Socialist?” It was a part of a series of articles, with different authors writing on each viewpoint.

I wrote that “Christianity is Neither Conservative Nor Socialist”:

Both the Christian Right and the Christian Left get the question of Christianity and politics wrong.

Christianity is not politically conservative or politically liberal — though Christians may be either. Christianity is not political at all. It is in a sense politically agnostic. But in another sense it calls into question the basis of every earthly power, including politics.

Those looking to dig into the Bible and find a political platform are going to be sorely disappointed. It’s not there. That is for the simple reason that it is not a book about politics, but about God, and how He is saving His people through Jesus Christ. This distinguishes Christianity from Old Testament Judaism and modern day Islam, both of which contain detailed political agendas. Well-meaning Christians that want to outline a detailed “Christian” agenda of their own, however, will simply not find one.

You can read the full article at Daily Caller, “Christianity is Neither Conservative Nor Socialist.”