Posts tagged ‘Politics’
Pope Francis and What’s Most Important
The New York Times may have called him “the spiritual leader of 1.2 billion Catholics,” but it seemed nearly impossible for journalists and pundits to filter Pope Francis’ visit to the United States, which wrapped up last night in Philadelphia, through anything but a political lens. After an obligatory nod to his spiritual status, the Times went on to report about the Pope’s address to a joint session of Congress:
While he checked boxes in calling for religious liberty and defending the family, the heart of his address, and the most time, was dedicated to aspects of Catholic teaching embraced by progressives, especially the overriding need to help the poor and destitute. He was at his most passionate in embracing immigration, alluding to his own family’s history of moving from Italy to Argentina, where he was born …
He also warned of the excesses of globalization, though in far more measured tones than he has in the past, when he used fiery language and the memorable phrase “dung of the devil” to describe unbridled capitalism.[1]
“Religious liberty.” “The excesses of globalization.” “Unbridled capitalism.” Though these things certainly have theological implications, as the First Article of the Apostles’ Creed would remind us, in our society, they are cast first and foremost as political concerns. Indeed, the Times ultimately concluded:
In the end, both sides could walk away citing parts of his message. But the liberal agenda items in his speech were explicit and clear while the conservative ones were more veiled.
Apparently, the real value of Francis’ speech, according to the Times, lies in how politicians will be able to leverage it and not in the theology that was contained in it.
Filtering theology through political policy is fraught with danger. In such a system, orthodox doctrine all too often gets sacrificed to Machiavellian expediency and a Savior who died gets turned into a political operative who just happens to hate all the same people we do.
On the one hand, Francis seemed to defy such bare politicization of the papacy, as Peter Johnson points out in his article for The Federalist, “10 Stories The Media Won’t Tell You About The Pope’s USA Visit.” Mr. Johnson explains how the Pope has taken on both liberal and conservative concerns – everything from climate change and immigration to government overreach and the dangers inherent in the Affordable Care Act. Such political schizophrenia is inherent in Christian ethics, which has the pesky habit of refusing to conform to both the liberal and conservative party platforms. Christianity can, at times, annoy both the left and the right.
On the other hand, it’s not too difficult to understand why the Pope’s address to Congress has been interpreted politically rather than theologically. After all, in a speech that lasted for nearly an hour before a joint session of Congress, the Pope, while covering a whole range of geopolitical and ethical issues, failed to mention Jesus – even once! This seems odd and, honestly, downright disturbing for the leader of a body of whom the apostle Paul noted is at its best when it resolves “to know nothing … except Jesus Christ and Him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2).
In one sense, the domination of the geopolitical and the ethical at the expense of the Christological in the Pope’s words is understandable both in terms of the ecclesiology and the soteriology of the Roman Catholic Church.
Ecclesiologically, popes have historically laid claim not only to spiritual authority, but to temporal power as well. Such power was crystalized in 800 on Christmas Day when Pope Leo III crowned Charlemagne as the emperor of Rome. A spiritual authority, on that day, crowned a political one. These days, though the Pope’s temporal power formally extends only as far as Vatican City – and even that authority is largely titular – the papacy’s interest in and influence over temporal affairs lingers. So it comes as no surprise that Francis would seek to shape geopolitical events. In some ways, I welcome such an effort. Our geopolitics needs all the sanctified wisdom it can get. But when geopolitical concerns drown out any mention of Christ in a major address from a man who claims to be the head of Christ’s Church, I begin to get a little nervous.
Soteriologically, Roman Catholicism’s view of righteousness and its relationship to salvation lends itself to Francis’ deep concern over ethical issues. As a Lutheran Christian, I will often speak of two kinds of righteousness. The first kind of righteousness is that which is imputed to me from God in Christ by faith. In the words of the apostle Paul:
But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. (Romans 3:21-22)
Christ’s perfect righteousness is a righteousness that leads to my salvation quite apart from anything I have done or ever will do. This righteousness is not an ethical task, but a sheer gift, not based on my actions, but based on Christ’s action for me on the cross. The second kind of righteousness involves the good deeds that I do for my neighbor. I am called to love, serve, and help my neighbor, as Jesus explains forcefully in His Parable of the Good Samaritan. When I do these things, I am acting in the way of righteousness. But such a righteousness does not save me. It simply helps others.
In the Roman Catholic system of theology, these two kinds of righteousness are collapsed into one. The righteous acts we do for our neighbor are righteous acts that are also taken into account when we receive salvation from God. The Catechism of the Catholic Church makes this clear enough:
Since the initiative belongs to God in the order of grace, no one can merit the initial grace of forgiveness and justification, at the beginning of conversion. Moved by the Holy Spirit and by charity, we can then merit for ourselves and for others the graces needed for our sanctification, for the increase of grace and charity, and for the attainment of eternal life.[2]
The Catechism baldly asserts that my righteousness cooperates with Christ’s righteousness so that I may attain eternal life. All the good things of which the Pope spoke in his speech, then, pertain to salvation because our good works on these good things aid in our salvation. It’s no wonder, then, that Francis would be especially concerned with our good works, even as the good work of Christ went missing in his words to Congress.
For all the excitement Francis’ visit and words generated, I fear that we managed to overlook what is the most important business of the Church: to proclaim Christ’s forgiveness for sinners. This, to borrow a phrase from Paul, is “of first importance” (1 Corinthians 15:3). All of the things the Pope addressed in his speech to Congress are important and should be discussed, but they are not most important.
Mollie Hemmingway puts the situation well when she writes:
It’s wonderful that some people say that Francis makes them feel the church is more welcoming to them. But if it’s just making people feel more comfortable in their politics, instead of making them feel the comfort of absolution, communion and strengthening of faith, that’s not much to get excited about.[3]
This is most certainly true. We can get excited over and become passionate about geopolitical issues. We can strongly advocate for ethical issues. I do all the time on this very blog. But our deepest commitment must be to Jesus. Our first proclamation must be of Him. For long after the concerns of this age fade way – indeed, long after this visit from this Pope is forgotten – Jesus will remain. The best thing this Pope can do, then, is invite us to turn our attention – and our hearts – to Him.
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[1] Peter Baker & Jim Yardley, “Pope Francis, in Congress, Pleads for Unity on World’s Woes,” The New York Times (9.24.2015).
[2] Catechism of the Catholic Church (Collegeville, MN: 1994), § 2010.
[3] Mollie Hemmingway, “The Pope Francis Effect: Enthusiasm, But To What End?” The Federalist (9.25.2015).
Rocking Your Vote
Last Tuesday, I went to vote in the midterm elections. Even though news outlets and political pundits like to play the part of Chicken Little every time an election cycle hits, the line at the voting booth seemed much more reasonable and relaxed.
As I listen to the rhetoric that comes with each passing election, I can’t help but be concerned – not because acerbic political rhetoric is anything new – politicians have been tearing into each other for a long time – but because the rhetoric isn’t right.
The word “politics” comes from the word polis, the Greek word for “city.” Politics has to do with how we order our communities under a set of authorities. The great Greek philosopher Aristotle spoke of the goal of politics thusly: “It comes to be for the sake of living, but it remains in existence for the sake of living well.”[1] For Aristotle, politics was a way of doing what was best for a community by ordering the community under responsible and thoughtful authorities. The ultimate goal of politics, then, was to serve the common good. Sadly, I think many have lost sight of this goal.
In running for office, one Senate candidate said of his political opponent, “Let’s go out there and sock it to them!” The state chair of this candidate’s party went farther: “We need to crush it. We need to grab it, run with it, push their heads under over and over again until they cannot breathe anymore.”[2] Somehow, I am not sure this was the type of political goal Aristotle had in mind. Many of our politicians have become so obsessed with winning that they have forgotten their true call to work for the common good. Politicians are not be snooty sovereigns, but public servants.
As Christians in a democratic system, we have a unique privilege that is also a heavy burden. In Romans 13:1, we are called to submit ourselves to the governing authorities. But in our political system, as Micah Watson of The Gospel Coalition explains, “We are called to yield to authority, yet we also wield authority.”[3] We wield authority through our vote. My concern is that we, like the politicians for whom we are voting, have become far too concerned with using our authority to defeat and destroy the people and party with whom we disagree and have forgotten that a healthy political process is meant to have as its goal the common good. We have traded Aristotle for Machiavelli.
God has given humans limited and provisional authority in a host of different arenas (e.g., Genesis 1:26-28, Matthew 10:1, Titus 2:15). But because such authority is from God, we must use it only in accordance with God (Colossians 2:10). Jesus reminds us how we are not to use our authority:
You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave. (Matthew 20:25-27)
Jesus is clear. We are to use our authority to serve others, which means, when we cast our vote, we use our authority as “We the people” not to clobber our enemy, but to love and serve our community. When you vote, what do you have in mind?
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[1] Aristotle, Politics 1.2.1252b29-30.
[2] David A. Fahrenthold, Katie Zezima & Paul Kane, “Math is forbidding for Democrats in struggle for Senate,” The Washington Post (11.3.2014).
[3] Micah Watson, “Why Christians Should Vote,” The Gospel Coalition (11.3.2014).
Syria’s Setting the Stage for…the End of the World?
I had to chuckle. While I was doing research for this blog, an email hit my inbox with an ominous subject line: “History’s final chapter will be written in Jerusalem.” It was a promotion for the latest Christian apocalyptic thriller, matrixing today’s headlines with cherry picked Scripture verses which come together to portend disaster. This email was especially funny to me because I was researching precisely these kinds of doomsday declarations for this post.
These days, of course, doomsday’s ground zero is Syria. And for those who have a penchant for taking ancient prophecies and sensationalizing them in light of current crises, Isaiah 17:1 has taken center stage: “See, Damascus will no longer be a city but will become a heap of ruins.” Joel Rosenberg, author of a new book, Damascus Countdown, is leading the charge of Syrian doom and gloom, writing on his blog, “No, we don’t know that these prophecies will come to pass soon, or even in our lifetime. But yes, it is possible that Isaiah 17 … could come to pass in our lifetime.”[1] Predictably, news outlets are picking up on his new take on this old passage. Everyone from the Huffington Post to USA Today to Fox News to Mother Jones to The Blaze has run stories on Isaiah’s prophecy and its relationship to the current Syrian imbroglio.
For the record, let me say that I highly doubt the prophecy of Isaiah 17 will come to pass in our lifetimes. How can I say this? Because it already has come to pass…over 2,700 years ago. Isaiah originally proffered this prophecy during the Syro-Ephraimite alliance of 735-732 BC. This is why the fates of the Syrians and Ephraimites are linked in verse 3: “The fortified city will disappear from Ephraim, and royal power from Damascus.” Ephraim – that is, northern Israel – made a treaty with Syria in a last ditch effort to defend herself against an immanent attack from Assyria, one of the most menacing superpowers of the eighth century BC. This is why we read in Isaiah 7:2: “Syria is in league with Ephraim.” The alliance did not work. In 732 BC, the Assyrians, led by Shalmaneser, sacked the Syrians, destroying the alliance between Ephraim and Syria. Ten years later, the Assyrians came for Ephraim, and northern Israel was no more. Yet, even after this devastating defeat, God made a promise that His people would endure: “Some gleanings will remain, as when an olive tree is beaten, leaving two or three olives on the topmost branches, four or five on the fruitful boughs” (Isaiah 17:6). Isaiah uses an agricultural metaphor to describe how God’s people, though defeated by the Assyrians, will never be destroyed. There will always be a remnant faithful to Him.
To turn this ancient prophecy, fulfilled some twenty-seven centuries ago, into a modern day harbinger of hopelessness is to do violence to it. Indeed, I am frustrated that many journalists reporting on this story and the debate between those who think this prophecy has already been fulfilled and those who think it is yet to be fulfilled are casting this debate as one between theologians who look at this text literalistically and others who do not. Take, for instance, this line from Time magazine: “Nearly all Biblical scholars … argue that such a literalist interpretation of the text is highly problematic.”[2] The debate over this text is not between those who read this text in a literalistic manner as a prophecy of things to come and those who read it as already being fulfilled in ancient times. Being “literal” or “non-literal” has nothing to do with this debate. Rather, this is a debate over how to handle this biblical text responsibly, carefully looking at its context and seeking to understand this text in the manner Isaiah himself would have understood it. Thus, a responsible reading of this text would note that this oracle against Syria is just one of a series of oracles against places like Philistia, Moab, and Cush, all of which no longer exist. In context, then, it is clear that Isaiah is speaking not of modern day Syrian warfare, but of an attack against the Syria of his day along with attacks against other nations of his day, leading to their demise.
Ultimately, what is happening in Syria is the fulfillment of biblical prophecy, but not of the one in Isaiah 17. Instead, words from Jesus come to mind: “You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come.” (Matthew 24:6). Jesus tells us there will be war. And not just war, but wars. The current conflict in Syria is just one such example. Jesus also tells us that these wars do not mean the end of the world has arrived. Conflicts are indicative that the end is indeed coming, but they are not determinative that the end has come. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Jesus reminds us that we should not be alarmed at these troubled times. Indeed, instead of fear, we should feel compassion toward those whose lives have been turned upside down by this terrible conflict. The fear mongering that passes for theology in many best selling books is in direct contradiction to Jesus’ admonishment to be not afraid. After all, what do we have to fear? Jesus has the end of the world – and everything leading up to it – taken care of.
We can trust in Him.
[1] Joel C. Rosenberg, “Pastors: here are 24 pages of study notes on Isaiah 17, Jeremiah 49 & the future of Damascus. Please feel free to share with others,” flashtrafficblog.wordpress.com (9.11.2013).
[2] Elizabeth Dias, “Some Evangelicals See Biblical Prophecy In Syrian Crises,” Time (8.29.2013).
Your Opinion Doesn’t Matter To Jesus
Last week, I stumbled across a blog post by Matt Chambers that struck me:
Could you imagine what Jesus’ ministry would have looked like if after giving “The Sermon on the Mount” He immediately checked social media to see how many retweets He got, or if #beatitudes was trending?
Or, before riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, He sat down with His creative team to map out exactly how to create a moment people would remember for thousands of years. (#TriumphalEntry, anyone?)
I wonder what opinion polls would have looked like after the crucifixion…or a big throw down with Pharisees…or a mass healing session. What if He healed certain people more than others because data showed healing someone with leprosy went viral (heh, viral) faster than healing the blind?[1]
As we enter into the home stretch of yet another presidential election, it’s important to value and pray for our leaders, for they are given to us by God as Romans 13:1 so aptly reminds us. But it also doesn’t hurt to chuckle a little at the human avenues and inroads that our politicians regularly leverage to try to garner and sustain power – opinion polls being one of them.
I especially appreciate Matt’s reference to Jesus’ Triumphal Entry (cf. John 12:12-15) and trying “to create a moment people would remember for thousands of years.” This year, both political parties tried – using plenty of opinion polls about their presidential candidates’ relative strengths and weaknesses – to do exactly that at their conventions. Though only time will tell, I doubt memories from these conventions will last thousands of days, much less thousands of years. Jesus, as Matt so wryly notes, took no opinion polls, yet Christians across the world still celebrate Palm Sunday to this day. Apparently, Jesus can create a long-lasting moment without consulting polls on what people think of Him.
Currently, I am teaching a Bible study to a couple of different groups on the Old Testament book of Daniel. In chapter two, King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon has a dream where he sees a statue made of gold, silver, bronze, and iron mixed with clay. Nebuchadnezzar knows his dream is of consequence, but his astrologers and soothsayers are not able to offer any interpretation of his dream. But Daniel, a Hebrew exile to Babylon, can. Daniel explains that the different materials in the statue represent different kingdoms – the gold being the Babylonian Kingdom, the silver being the Persian Kingdom, the bronze being the Kingdom of Alexander the Great, with the bronze and clay finally signifying the Roman Empire. Most important to Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, however, is what happens to all of these kingdoms: “In the time of those kings, the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed, nor will it be left to another people. It will crush all those kingdoms and bring them to an end, but it will itself endure forever” (Daniel 2:44).
Human kingdoms, no matter how many opinion polls their leaders may consult, never manage to endure. The Kingdom of God, ushered in by Jesus, crushes them all, itself enduring forever – even without the benefit of opinion polls. In fact, it endures in spite of really bad opinion polls – opinion polls so poor, in fact, that they got Jesus nailed to a cross.
As Election Day draws near, we’ll watch kingdoms be built and coalitions of constituents be congealed. But in the midst of all the political intrigue, let’s not forget to which Kingdom we pledge our ultimate allegiance. For that Kingdom has staying power that will last far beyond November 6. That Kingdom will last forever.
[1] Matt Chambers, “First Church of Public Opinion,” www.outofur.com (9.25.12).
The Problem with Our Politics
“Our politics is broken.” I don’t know how many times I’ve heard a political pundit utter these words on a cable news show. Usually, when a pundit speaks of broken politics, he or she is referring to the divisive and downright derogatory displays that so regularly parade across our national stage. These pundits long for the days when politicians could reach across the aisle and work with others who held different points of view to get things done and to move our nation into a bold and bright new future. “Why can’t we all just get along?” these pundits wonder.
This dream, of course, is encapsulated in our nation’s de facto, though not official, longtime motto: E pluribus unum. “Out of many, one.” We dream of the day when those in the halls of power – and the population who votes for them – will finally be able act civilly. And yet, as nice of a sentiment as E pluribus unum is, it is neither Scriptural nor realistic. Simple observation verifies this. We may be many in this nation. But we are certainly not one.
This is why the Scriptural vision of unity, rather than being ad hoc and accidental, is grounded in Christ and is intentional. The apostle Paul explains:
There is one body and one Spirit – just as you were called to one hope when you were called – one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all. (Ephesians 4:4-6)
Paul uses the adjective “one” seven times in these verses. And in each instance, the adjective modifies God and His gifts. Thus, true unity can only be founded in the one true, Triune God. Scriptural unity begins with oneness of God and not with the multiplicity of man, as does our folksy national motto.
But our problem goes deeper than a simple lack of political unity. For disunity is merely a symptom of a more systemic and sinister problem. Our deeper problem is that we buy into so many of the impossibly lofty things our politics and politicians promise. We have saddled our politics with the responsibility of:
Fostering unity, creating jobs, saving the environment, caring for the poor, reducing the deficit, cutting spending, supporting unions and workers’ rights, formulating corporately friendly economic policies, reforming entitlements, ensuring the long-term fiscal solvency of Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid, providing for a world-class education, both deporting illegal immigrants and providing them a path to citizenship, and restoring prosperity.
If we just had all of that, then we would be happy. Hmmm. Is it any wonder we’re disaffected and disillusioned? Does anyone really believe any human institution can deliver on all that?
Last week, I came across a column by New York Times writer Ross Douthat, where he poetically and succinctly summarizes the problem with the demands we make on our politics. Douthat writes:
When strong religious impulses coexist with weak religious institutions, people become more likely to channel religious energy into partisan politics instead, and to freight partisan causes with more metaphysical significance than they can bear. The result, visible both in the “hope and change” fantasies of Obama’s 2008 campaign and the right-wing backlash it summoned up, is a politics that gives free rein to both utopian and apocalyptic delusions, and that encourages polarization without end.[1]
This is precisely right. For all the help politics and politicians might be able to offer, and for all the good they might be able to do (cf. Romans 13:1-5), they are not up to carrying the weight of the metaphysical freight of the divine. The expansive power of God is simply too much for them to bear. Indeed, it is too much for any human to bear. This is why strong religious institutions, as Douthat duly notes, that strongly trust in and teach the providence of God are so important. For they proclaim the message that there is only one Messiah of metaphysical proportions and powers –and His name is Jesus. Anyone else who attempts to do Jesus’ job for Him will fail miserably. It is foolish to place superhuman hopes on simple humans, be they politicians or anyone else.
The upshot of placing superhuman hopes on simple humans can do nothing but result in the disastrous vacillation between “utopian and apocalyptic delusions” to which Douthat refers. When a new politician is elected, we speak of him as if he will be able to usher in an eternal golden age of prosperity and unity. When he unsurprisingly fails, we cry that the sky is falling.
I would submit that the Church stands at a particularly privileged position in our current political environment. For we can serve as advocates for the One who can and does do what politics and politicians can only dream of. We can serve as advocates for the One who not only provides for human beings, but changes human hearts. We can serve as advocates for Jesus. Sadly, many Christians have all too readily and willingly traded an advocacy of Jesus for advocacy of a certain candidate or political position. Not that it is bad in and of itself to thoughtfully support a candidate, but we must remain clear on what our politics and politicians can and cannot do. For our politics and politicians will not last. And they also will not deliver – at least not in the way we might hope. Jesus and His promises, however, will last and they will deliver. In fact, not only will Jesus last and deliver, He will prevail. As the Church, then, our call is to advocate for Him first.
[1] Ross Douthat, “A Nation of Osteens and Obamas,” The Washington Post (5.16.12).




