Abby McCloskey, the Anglican Mission in America, September 23, 2024
here are plenty of reasons to be discouraged about American politics in 2024. Lest you need reminders, here are a few: Political polarization is at levels not seen since the Civil War. According to Pew Research, 72% of Republicans regard Democrats as more immoral, and 63% of Democrats say the same about Republicans. Trust in public institutions has plummeted, with Congress at the bottom of the pile—this, at the very time that problem-solving is needed on a wide range of issues including immigration, abortion, the economy and multiplying wars overseas.
The natural response to duress of any type is flight or fight. We see this response playing out in our American political moment, including (and arguably especially) among Christians. For Christians tired out by our political moment, the “flight” response is grooved by that old Gnostic thinking that God cares only about eternal souls anyway. Nations, culture, humanity’s suffering or history’s arc are of little relevance to his work; it’s heaven that lasts. Under this belief, Christians may be tempted to isolate themselves in communities of similarly minded people and ride out an increasingly secularized and disoriented culture from a distance. Political scientists talk about this group as the “Exhausted Majority,” tuning out from politics all together. Among Christians, we might say it is Rod Dreher’s Benedict Option, a strategic separation of believers from public life.
For others, the “fight” response might be more alluring. The temptation to grab political powers and usher in a Christian nation has titillated since Constantine. Certainly today, many Christians are biting at the bit for political dominance and revenge for the secular progressive enemies who discredit and discriminate against Judeo-Christian values and beliefs. There’s a belief that our country would be better off with Christianity consecrated in the halls of political power and for Christianity to once again become the dominant religion (as opposed to the swelling ranks of religious nones) via political action. Among evangelical Christians, this group is concentrated in MAGA, as documented in Tim Alberta’s The Kingdom, The Power, and The Glory.
Far from new political responses, these are the oldest there are. They are right there on display in the Bible. Ancient Jewish belief was awash in the expectation—from the Torah to the manger—that the coming Messiah would overthrow the system of government and usher in a new kingdom. Instead, Christ was executed at the hands of the Romans, while not ruling out that he was a political leader (“You say that I am <King of the Jews>,” he says to Pilate). After the execution and scattering of nearly all of Jesus’ disciples and the invasion of Jerusalem and raiding of the temple, the early Church surely would have been tempted to run for the hills. Yet the records of the early Church as preserved by Larry Hurtado and Rodney Stark document a community rooted in pagan cities and loving its neighbors through the power of the Holy Spirit.
From Jesus’ life and the early Church, we see a rejection of the twofold temptation to fight the powers or to flee from them. These responses elevate political power, rather than recognizing that there’s another power to which all others submit. Nor do we see a middle way or political compromise in the Bible. The Christian answer to politics is far more radical. It’s a new creation altogether. . . .