The Church`s Political Ministry: Some Propositions to Provoke Debate
By James A. Nash
[Dr. James A. Nash is Executive Director of the Churches` Center for Theology and Public Policy in Washington, D.C. The Center is a national, ecumenical center which supports the linkage between theological-ethical reflection and Christian social action.]
The purpose of this essay is to pick a fight–well, really to start a religious and political argument, for such argument is a foundational feature of civil society and an essential means to that society`s moral advancement.
I offer here a set of propositions–that is, theses to provoke debate on contemporary directions and deficiencies concerning Christian faith and politics. Clearly, propositions are much more than academic matters. They are, after all, what got Martin Luther into all those 16th century unpleasantries when he nailed 95 theses to that church door in Wittenberg.
Now being much more modest (with good reason) and much less imposing on my readers than Luther, I`m going to nail up only six theses here. Nonetheless, these six propositions will, I hope, provoke controversy, generating an examination of important problems that might otherwise be ignored. Is that not what propositions for debate are supposed to do?
Proposition I: From an ethical perspective, politics is much more than the art of the possible; it is an essential means for realizing the desirable–that is, bringing goals like economic justice or social justice to fruition. Understood in this sense, politics is an ethical enterprise that no responsible individual or institutions, especially Christian churches, can ignore or denigrate.
Those Christians who draw a sharp distinction between a personal and social gospel, who argue that the role of the church is the conversion of individual souls rather than the reformation of society, imply not only that the arena of politics is irrelevant to the concerns of Christian faith but also that the gospel is irrelevant to the decisions of politics. Such an insulation of Christian faith from politics is theologically indefensible (indeed, it is authentic heresy). It is a denial of the sovereignty of God.
The gospel relates to all creatures and it applies in all situations. The gospel rejects all forms of moral parochialism. It insists that Christ cannot be compartmentalized, locked in some "spiritual" closet. The God known in Christ is central in individual spiritual lives, but also is sovereign over the social, economic, and political realms. This God comforts the afflicted, hears our prayers, and calls for proclamation of the good news. And this God, as portrayed especially by the biblical prophets, is brazenly political–blessing the peacemakers, meddling in the affairs of governments, judging politicians and political misdeeds, and liberating slaves from the shackles of pharaoh. Indeed, to be in covenant with this God demands social and economic justice, justice organized and undergirded by the society as a whole, with special consideration for the poor and the aliens or immigrants.
Justice in the prophetic tradition of the Old Testament is a spiritual discipline, an act of worship, without which the value of other spiritual disciplines–fasting, prayers, sacrifices, are negated (Is. 58:1-12; Amos 5:21-24; Hos. 6:6). Similarly, Matthew`s gospel reflects this prophetic tradition in its description of divine judgment: Christ comes to us in the form of human need and in the context of the deprivation of rights, soliciting just and compassionate responses. To neglect the deprived is to reject Christ. Individuals and nations will be judged on the basis of their care for the "have-nots" (Matt. 25:31-46). In fact, the Suffering Servant–with whom the church traditionally has identified Jesus–is the one who proclaims justice to the nations (Is. 42:1-4; Matt. 12:18). So, fidelity to the political God portrayed in scripture is to struggle to deliver the community of earth from all manner of evil–private and public, personal and social, cultural and ecological, spiritual and material. The sovereign God bans all boundaries on benevolence.
In our complex and technical world, economic and political systems powerfully affect the lives of all of us–too frequently benefiting the "haves" and harming the "have-nots." The regional and national capitals of our world are the scenes where the destinies of billions of people as well as millions of species are determined. We humans are by nature political animals. The need for structures of government is built into our very being by the God who created us, in order to enable us to live together cooperatively and fairly. That is why classical Christian thought interpreted government as the gift of God for the common good. Thus, if Christian churches are committed to feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, healing the sick, setting at liberty the oppressed, challenging "the powers that be," and exalting those of low degree (all of which characterized the ministry of Jesus, and therefore ought to characterize the ministry of the church, according to the Magnificat of Mary and Jesus` reading from Isaiah in the temple), then the churches dare not ignore the political and economic contexts of these concerns. Every political issue that affects human and ecological welfare–whether it be an arms race or the unemployment rate, starvation or pollution, racism or extinctions of species–is at once a moral and spiritual concern, and therefore a challenge to love. If we are to deal with social causes and not merely individual symptoms, these issues in their political settings must be items on the agenda of the church.
The Christian church, therefore, cannot make any theologically phony distinctions between personal rebirth and social reform. We are called to proclaim and live the whole gospel, not some expurgated version of it, in loyalty to the Christ who seeks to minister to all the needs of all God`s creatures. Love demands the pursuit of justice, peace, and ecological integrity in the realm of politics, no less than in any other context.
No doubt, this political involvement does entail some risks for the churches. No straight line can be drawn from our affirmations of faith and systems of ethics to public policy. Too many factual disputes, judgment calls, value conflicts, moral dilemmas, necessary compromises, and unholy alliances block the way. The translation of Christian faith into moral norms and then into laws and regulations is a complex and ambiguous process, and that translation becomes more tenuous with each step toward specificity. Consequently, Christian political involvement must be tempered by the realization that no political party or platform can adequately represent the Christian norm. Christians, therefore, must be ever alert to the dangers of the political captivity of the churches by some political party or ideology, and to the relaxation of the critical tension between religious ideals and their ambiguous embodiments in the necessary compromises of politics. These risks of political specificity are real, but they are risks that must be taken to avoid the greater danger of irrelevance to human needs.
Proposition II: The condition of the mainline churches` political witness requires a long-term corrective strategy, perhaps a major educational initiative on the theological meaning and practical moral importance of political action by Christians.
The health of the churches` political witness has been deteriorating for more than a decade. Most of the members and ministers have entered a period of political quietism, a shameful retreating from political stances and controversies, both institutionally and individually. Even among those churches who are politically interested, significant segments are sympathetic to the dismemberment of government.
The reasons for this withdrawal from public concerns are numerous, but they generally revolve around the old stand-bys: the avoidance of conflict and the dilution of witness in order to attract members and bring in money. There is a widespread yearning for insulation from political conflicts, rather than total immersion in them. Some forms of so-called spirituality are pulling people out of, rather than pushing them into, the political process. A socially relevant gospel is not being preached from many pulpits. Praying for the poor is common, while preventing political and economic predators from preying on the poor is declining.
The reputation of churches as bodies of politically active Christians rests in large measure on the laurels particularly gathered in the 60s and 70s on civil rights and Vietnam. In the last decade, however, most of our numbers have been quietly and gradually stealing away to safe shelter. To be sure, we`ve left behind a faithful but tiny remnant of faithful advocates–the national church offices, for example, whose contributions should be hailed. But it is very difficult to be an effective advocate when the responses from across the land to appeals for action are not abundant or zealous–indeed, when the support base is fragile and fearful.
The main problem with political strategy in the churches today is not that the means are morally harmful. In fact, there are no signs that we`ve violated any ethical constraints (e.g., by using bribery or deception). Instead, our strategies are politically innocuous. Our tactics are not morally excessive; they are theologically thin and therefore they are politically puny.
This situation will not self-correct through some ecclesiastical version of the Invisible Hand. It requires a countervailing strategy. A major educational initiative is called for, involving all who bear responsibility for solving a serious problem: denominations, ecumenical agencies, and, of course, seminaries. My other propositions lose much of their relevance unless this one is pursued aggressively.
Proposition III: Now is the time for all women and men of good will to come to the aid of their government! We need to defend the goodness of government. No doubt, there are many reasons for the current discontents with government. Governments have numerous moral deficiencies that demand continuing reform. Nevertheless, government is not a necessary evil but rather an indispensable good to meet public needs. Indeed, from the perspective of most classical Christian thought, government is the blessing of God to meet these needs.
The current demonizing and downsizing of the federal government are diminishing governing capacities, while licensing and unleashing dangerous social and economic forces that only government may be expected to hold in check. The prevailing political trend is that terrible triad of devolution, deregulation, and privatization. This trend means, in simplest terms, the severe reduction or elimination of various national standards and protections applicable to all the states and all citizens.
This unholy trinity–devolution, deregulation, and privatization–fails to take the social powers of human sin seriously, such as the free-rider tendency of most people to avoid paying their fair share of the public burden in the absence of coercion. It romanticizes private enterprise. It forgets that our human rights demand not only protections, from the tyrannies of government, but also protections by governments against the tyrannies of private interests, including economic powers intent on exploiting the public by reducing the regulatory protections of government. It fails to grasp the paradox of liberty and public restraint, interpreted by L.T. Hobhouse in his classic effort to link the individualism of nineteenth century liberalism with twentieth century concepts of social solidarity: "The first condition of universal freedom…is a measure of universal restraint," because social controls to prevent abuses by some and mutual aid to enable participation by all are the only ways in which "liberty for an entire community is attainable." [L.T. Hobhouse, Liberalism (London: Oxford University Press, 1964[1911]), 17, 49-50, 54, 67.]
The loyalists to this trinity are oblivious to a fundamental political reality of our time: An active federal government is necessary to match effectively the serious social and ecological problems that confront our nation as a whole. Only through the federal government can we establish national norms to meet national needs. Only the federal government can be the social instrument through which we support the common good and share the benefits and burdens of being a truly united people. In light of our national needs, current efforts to dis-organize the federal government are, to quote John Calvin in response to the political antinomians of his age, "an outrageous barbarity" (Institutes 4.20.3).
The issue of the purposes of functions of government has become the most prominent and perhaps the most important debate of our age. Never has political philosophy been more practical and relevant. As a Christian contribution to this debate, one of our tasks is to develop an adequate "theology of government," focused on the ultimate foundations of government functions and relevant to the newness of our times. Our present theological perspectives on government are generally simplistic and anachronistic: they reflect the political situations in the 1st, 13th, 16th and 19 centuries more than they do the dynamics of the late 20th century. As such, they are often misguiding.
A strong case for government as the gift of God for the social and ecological common good really matters in our time. Our political goal should not necessarily be smaller or larger, weaker or stronger, government. These are questions to be decided contextually, not ideologically. Instead, our goal should be government that is strong and active enough to be the effective guarantor of all our human rights, not only the political rights, and civil rights but also the economic rights (adequate nutrition, shelter, and health care for all). Contrary to that libertarian cliché, the best government is not the one that governs the least, but the best government is the one that governs in effective response to human and ecological needs. It is not an exaggeration to say: In the absence of responsible and effective government, we have no serious chance of resolving our nation`s major social, economic, and ecological problems.
Proposition IV: Faithful and effective Christian involvement in the political sphere depends on a tenacious commitment to ecumenical solidarity.
An intriguing paradox of today`s major church groups is: they are simultaneously cooperative and competitive. A major ecumenical problem is that those denominations are becoming increasingly competitive–tastefully and subtly camouflaged, of course. Most of these denominations are trying now to differentiate themselves from the "Protestant pack," to show they are not interchangeable parts of Christendom, and to highlight their presumably appealing peculiarities–for example, their "distinctive" doctrines or the special virtues of their founders. The intensification of this "denominational identity syndrome" is a responses to the cultural crisis of mainline Christianity–the losses in members, money, social status, and political power, particularly in comparison with their rivals of the Religious Right. Each of the mainliners is increasingly seeking a competitive edge, reminiscent of the "We`re Number One" chants during March Madness, in pursuit of prosperity, prestige, and power.
The ecumenical–and political–effects of this syndrome are severe. Ecumenical activity is perceived as little more than an additive–a luxurious extra, something supplemental and non-essential to the "real" work of the church, rather than as a way for the churches to do their essential tasks more faithfully and more effectively. Denominational introversion is spreading: The mainline denominations are increasingly centering on their internal concerns, and backpedaling from cooperating associations and collaborative political witness.
A united political witness is essential on the grounds of both political potency and integrity. On grounds of potency, the churches` political concerns can be advanced more effectively and faithfully through collaboration than in denominational isolation, especially in times of increasingly scarce resources. Cooperative activity enables a pooling of resources and a division of labor, thereby enhancing the prospects for optimal influence and effectiveness.
On grounds of integrity, the witness to the gospel is not credible apart from the quest for visible Christian unity in common witness. The fragmentation of the churches` political witness obscures the reality of the reconciling and liberating powers in God`s love and impedes our mission of reconciliation and liberation to a broken world. The churches cannot be credible witnesses for peace and justice when the churches are not just to one another and cannot make peace, or even function cooperatively, among themselves.
Twenty years ago, a Presbyterian leader and ecumenical veteran, Eugene Carson Blake, said, "If the churches are to be stronger ten years from now, they will be more ecumenical. If weaker and irrelevant, they will be sectarian and provincial." Blake was right: ecumenical activism is essential not only for the empowerment of political witness, but also for the renewal of the churches themselves.
Proposition V: The churches must learn to speak in a public tongue in the public sphere, in order to function effectively and fairly in the midst of moral pluralism.
Moral pluralism is a dominant feature of our culture. In fact, that is true even of our churches. Every mainline denomination is now multi-confessional, incorporating much of the moral spectrum and the concomitant conflicts in its midst. Politically and socially, moral pluralism means at least that many moral voices are clamoring for the public`s attention and pleading for a faithful following. No dominant ethical foundation or prevailing set of moral values can be assumed in the culture.
Consequently, it is fruitless–and unfair–for Christian churches and their leaders to pretend to be the ultimate arbiters of public morality. In giving public arguments for a political cause, it will not now work for Christians to quote scripture, or some confession of faith. Churches, of course, have the political right to speak in the language of our theological ghettos when in the public arena, but other citizens have no obligation to hear or to heed–and frequently those Christian voices which speak in stained-glass, King James fashion thus are not being heard nor heeded. In a pluralistic world, people are accustomed to moral authority being challenged, and most of them (and most of us) want good reasons for accepting a given viewpoint, particularly one that runs counter to self-interests or cultural conditioning. They want to know "why." The situation demands not only trustworthy witness but also plausible argument, grounded in some shared standards of rationality. It demands that Christians in the public arena make a "case," not simply a confession–a case rooted in and compatible with their confession of faith, I hope, but still a case that can be defended rationally and experientially apart from the confession,.
This situation has occupied the attention of a number of scholars interested in "public theology"–for example, David Tracey, Michael Perry, Robin Lovin, Max Stackhouse, and Stephen Carter. The reason is that this situation raises some perplexing questions about the political involvement of churches in pluralistic cultures. What are the rules of argument governing participation in the public sphere? How ought we to make our case, to justify our stances, publicly? What political ends are proper and achievable in a pluralistic culture? What are the rules of peacekeeping and fairness–the civic virtues–that the churches ought to promote in response to pluralism? Is it fair to legislate our Christian moral values unless they also can be justified on some common ground? What is this common ground? Despite earnest claims that we do not need a "moral esperanto" for a civil public square [Richard John Neuhaus, America Against Itself: Moral Vision and the Public Order (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1992)], it seems increasingly clear that we need some common ground–some broadly agreed process of moral reasoning and public decision-making–to avoid sheer babble and severe conflicts.
In my view, sound answers to these questions depend on a revival and reform of the natural law tradition in ethics. Despite the fact that the natural law has been associated with some moral perversities and unsavory interpretations, the core idea still seems sensible and essential. The natural law starts with moral reflections on the "nature" of human beings as social and ecological creatures, rather than with distinctively Christian or other religious precepts and principles. It affirms an objective and universal moral order, a general set of values and virtues, patterns of rightness and goodness, that correspond to the deepest needs in the human constitution. In the natural law tradition, the moral norms appropriate for living together in any social unit are not dependent on any special revelation or scripture, nor are they accessible only to some religious elect. Instead, these norms are "natural" in the sense that they are open to "natural reason"; they are discoverable by all humans through rational reflection on the fullness of human experience, in search of those basic conditions necessary and valuable for humans flourishing in responsible relationships. These norms are not known instinctively or indisputably; they are not "written on our hearts." They are discovered only gradually and imperfectly, through the trials-and-errors of historical experience. Their discovery depends on human wisdom, including such disciplines as psychology, sociology, biology, and political science.
Christians, of course interpret the natural law as God`s creation of our moral constitution. Indeed, even the Christian ethic of love can be justified by the natural law, for that love is essential to human well-being, as the fulfillment of our moral aspirations.
Nevertheless, the natural law is not distinctively Christian. It is a "natural revelation," a "common grace," in the sense that it is open to all, whatever their ultimate commitments, whether evangelical or atheist. This universal accessibility, however, is the natural law`s main asset: it has the potential to be our much-needed common moral ground. The natural law might provide us with a common moral tongue in political debate, as well as an ethical basis for making common cause with a host of world views in a morally pluralistic culture and global community. The natural law certainly requires reformation in view of the variety of corruptions and distortions of it in legal, philosophical, and theological history. Yet, the development of the natural law is the most promising direction I know for resolving the political problems arising from moral pluralism.
Proposition VI: Adequate responses to the Religious Right will include not only criticisms of their interpretations of faith and morals, but also some serious searches to discover what we can learn from them strategically.
I do not know how to interpret the Religious Right theologically. Do organizations like the Christian Coalition represent God`s judgment on mainline Christianity`s political flabbiness? Are they the rod of God`s anger, as Cyrus was, prodding progressive Christianity to awaken from its political doldrums? I admit, I sometimes think that way. Yet, no matter how we interpret them theologically, we may have something to learn from them strategically.
Ironically, the Christian Right is the main religious group in the United States that responded earnestly to mainline Protestantism`s past rhetoric about political involvement. They perceived mainline Christianity as a politically active influence, and that perception provided a strong motivation to create a countervailing power. We taught them a lot. Now what can we learn from them?
We certainly do not want to imitate their violations of elementary morality, including the stealth and McCarthyite tactics that some of them have used for purposes of intimidation in the mainline churches and political culture. Nevertheless, we must give applause to the Right`s zeal in embracing the political imperative of the faith. Many of us envy that. How, if at all, can we match and organize that zeal, and at the same time give them additional lessons on how to do politics honestly and fairly?
As a lesson from the Christian Right, and as a counter force to it, do we need to create a political action arm of the Christian Mainstream? I am thinking here of a para-church organization institutionally independent of the denominations and councils. It would be a mass organization–of individual members, one involving the mainstream Christian people of God. It would be specifically Christian and broadly ecumenical in its rationale, while coalescing strategically with other religious and social groups. It would be a body with a well-defined political agenda that is honestly, moderately, and prudently committed to liberty and justice for all. It would not be a political party but rather a lobby, an educator on political theology, and a political organizing force. I know most of the arguments against this approach; I`ve made a lot of them. But in light of the ecclesiastical and social signs of the times, I find this approach increasingly suggestive as a way to channel the commitments and energies of the Christian mainliners. My fear, of course, is that concerned and sensitive churches may not be sufficiently numerous or zealous to be effective political actors, but my hope is quite the contrary. We can not know whether my fear or hope is sounder except by exploring the possibilities. In any case, the idea of a politically active counterforce to the Radical Religious Right deserves some serious dialogue.
These propositions are now before us for debate. In expectation of your clarifications and corrections, I reserve the right to revise all of them, and I reserve the right to revoke any, except propositions I, III, IV, and V, to which I am probably irrevocably committed. But let`s argue–fairly and honestly, to be sure, but not overly politely in some insipid malinterpretation of civil debate. The concerns I am raising here matter too much to be constrained by academic gentility. They demand intense scrutiny and discussion, and if my concerns are sound, serious reforms in the way American Christians minister in the political sphere.
