You Have The Right to Remain Silent

In 1966, Ernesto Miranda, an Arizona day laborer, signed a confession stating that he had raped Lois Ann Jameson.  The public defender assigned to Miranda learned at trial that Miranda had confessed.  The confession came without a lawyer present; the defendant had not been informed that his statements were admissible in court.  The defense appealed all the way to the Supreme Court.  In a 5-4 ruling, the Supreme Court held that Miranda's conviction was unconstitutional, violating the 5th and 6th Amendment rights to avoid self-incrimination and his right to legal counsel.  Henceforth, the "Miranda Rights" became a memorized scripted used by real and TV cops across the land.  "You have the right to remain silent..."

A far more demanding court presides in America, however.  The Court of Public Opinion reigns over all in America as Alexis de Tocqueville observed in 1835.  The mass of popular consensus rules as judge, jury, and executioner.  It directs all things in our country, a necessary implication of the American devotion to equality above all.  Do you really presume to know more than at least 51% of people?  In the digital age, this more supreme Court issues rulings on everything from dress colors to cat videos.  Often, these rulings are not unanimous.  Rather, they break neatly into concurring and dissenting opinions, rather like the (less-)Supreme Court.  Unlike that court, with the advent of social media, the number of cases presented are increasing daily as hashtags trend.  The polemics are ever-more fiery.  Judges all at once bemoan the polarization of rhetoric even as they write seething denunciations indicting dissenters.  Behind it all lay the pressure in each new case for the judge to issue a ruling.  No justice may be absent form the bench.  Social media have created an environment where all voices may be heard... and now those who have ruled expect to hear them.  The judges tell the others that there is no time to stand idly by.  "You have a voice, now use it!"  No more.  I refuse to speak up and speak out.  I have the right to remain silent, and so do you.

We're told by one recently-viral facebook post, "What my black friends taught me is that the ancillary offense, where grief is compounded and loneliness sets in, is when their friends and colleagues outside of their tribe say NOTHING... Don't say nothing."  Somehow, I sincerely doubt that my personal friends--the only people I know on social media--are in any way put at ease by my stating the obvious.  If they are, then I shall say what is so evident.  The slaughter of 50 people, regardless of race, gender, or national origin is abhorrent.  If we're close enough to talk, you know how to make far more intimate contact than a hashtag justice article.  I also assume we know one another well enough that you didn't need me to broadcast my deepest lamentations to several hundred family, friends, and acquaintances for digital validation.

There are several reasons I exercise this right.  And before we get into those, I must acknowledge the irony of speaking out for silence and against speaking out... okay, acknowledged.  The most fundamental reason I exercise this right is humility.  Plato's Republic is a long book relating a thirteen hour conversation about justice.  By the end and after 2,300 years of discussion, no one is quite sure what Plato thinks justice is.  St Thomas Aquinas wrote the landmark of medieval theology the Summa Theologica--such a landmark that it is the official theology of the Roman Catholic church.  Thomas had a divine vision and dropped his pen forever, claiming all he had written was straw.  Edmund Burke made this political, saying that the world in its infinite complexity could not be remade anew by the radical vision of the French philosophes no matter how thoroughgoing their legislation.  G.K. Chesterton even suggested that the competing systems claiming an all-seeing lens to explain the paradoxical minutiae of reality drove men to madness.  It ought to drive even the haughtiest Marxist or Freudian to more thought than action.

Color me skeptical, then, whenever another trending hashtag pretends it can fix everything.  When it comes to social justice, I get the adjective, but I find myself stuck back there on the noun with Plato.  To say nothing of this simple truth: despite your most devoted friends' or social media's demands, you really don't have to have an opinion about everything.  Some things are beyond my intellect or free time to understand.  I'm just not conversant on everything, and I protest any and all attempts to "educate me" (read: "Show up to my rally/protest because I did all the thinking for you").

Second, I have the right to remain silent because of the performance component social media.  "All the world's a stage," said Shakespeare.  Shakespeare would have learned a new and horrifying connotation to this phrase had he lived to see Twitter.  With our digital avatars we become our own public relations firm, not unlike the actual PR professionals that run corporate social media pages.  Likes and re-tweets equal affirmation.  I admit to this candidly.  My social media page become an avenue for funny bits or sentimental tributes.  I don't think this is necessarily bad, particularly if you're self-aware of what it is and the monster inside all of us that craves approval.  But the sick twist comes when we take up some mantle as a source of validation.  We buy the notion that we're somehow being courageous.  We think we're "spurring a dialogue."  And lots of people will click a button that notifies us of their affirmation of what we've said.  But how much courage does it really take to share an click-bait-titled op-ed with a comment like, "This.  So much this."?  I spent several years running in seminary circles with misguided men who proudly proclaimed a good and true message with such abrasiveness that they regarded rejection of tone and method as persecution.  Never once did the awful reflection occur to them that perhaps they'd mistaken courage for rashness.  They got reactions that fit right in with the deluded self-portrait they had painted.  Some theology dorks would praise them for their courage to preach, others would denounce them as hatemongers.  Exchange the word "sinner" for "bigot" or "wacko hippie" and I'm not sure I could tell the lay slacktivist from the soapbox preacher.  Same tactic, different gospel.

Thirdly, I have the right to be silent because I'm considering my end goal.  Cicero said that all rhetoric aims at something, either to inform, to persuade, or to entertain (ideally all three).  Cat videos, one-liners, and pictures of your baby are entertaining.  The irony here is that the most entertaining performances are somehow the least synthetic.  The honesty of sadness or devotion to deceased loved ones, even the lamentations over public tragedies, belong to moving.  Trouble is, outrage culture feeds more on anger than fact.  Rather than inform, it hardens our opponents and inflames our allies.  And that's assuming they even read the article.  In my experience, most don't.  Did you before you shared it?

Is it any wonder then that subsequent discussion become so incendiary?  How many digital "friends" or "followers" have told you how much you completely changed their entire political orientation because you found just the right HuffPo article?  How many more were driven to a blind tirade?  And did you follow them down the hole?  Did you forget the person behind that opinionated Breitbart link?  Wasn't that the guy who jumped your car off in the rain eight years ago?  Did she cover your tab when you forgot your billfold?  Is all that warm camaraderie gone when you see those stubborn words on the screen?  How could someone be so stupid and ignorant?  The descent feels so natural.  you forgot the whole point was to persuade.  Considering your end goal, your failure is complete.

Fourth, I have the right to remain silent because my outrage belongs to me.  As comedian Chris Hardwick pointed out, sites thrive on clicks.  Traffic.  Views.  The media companies that produce this content engineer it to go viral.  That means they can sell advertisers spots on their sites, generating ad revenue with punchy titles.  It's the very same technique tabloids have used for years.  The new advertising strategies change the ballgame though.  Imagine the National Enquirer got paid every time you glance at its headlines in the supermarket checkout line.  When the rage boils over and you share that story that confirms all your biases, the looking and the clicking spread.  If a service is free, you are the product.  Feed the digital media beast in your indignation and you'll miss how big it can grow.  (Don't worry about sharing this post though.  At Artery Bloggage, the content quality is as low as the ad revenue--zero!)

Fifth, I have a right to remain silent when a man is on the digital pillory.  A year or so ago, a student of mine was in a fury before school.  A Broadway production of Phantom of the Opera cast a convicted sex offender to play the Phantom.  Her anger flared hotter when I suggested she should calm down.  "Calm down?!!  Why?" she demanded.  "Because you live hundreds of miles away and have seven hours of school ahead in which you have no access to technology and an algebra test to ace."  I can only assume this actor was convicted and sentenced, maybe released on good behavior.  But this sentence was insufficient, you say, the system is broken!  Maybe, yes, a particular court far away misdealt justice (there's that word again).  But as St. Augustine reminded us, no court in the City of Man is or can ever be perfect.

This is no problem for our increasingly-empowered Court of Public Opinion.  If you find any judge or jury anywhere has not ruled to your liking, you can declare guilt or innocence, sentence the defendant, and execute the punishment all through your social medium of choice.  Shame that mom who left a dog in the car and only got community service!  Make sure no one ever forgets that rapist's face!  And to be frank, there's a good chance your target deserves it.  But as for me, I can't help but think that but for the grace of God go I.  In my trips to Colonial Williamsburg as a kid, I was always struck by the pillories and stocks.  Groups of horrified tourists shook their heads that such a punishment could be considered just.  My classmates in American Lit thought the scarlet letter on Hester Prynne was impossible to understand.  I get it now though.  What offends us and how we express it have changed, but the impulse is the same.  Two weeks ago some guy I've never met or will probably ever meet got his mug slapped all over my newsfeed when the Court of Public Opinion decreed his rape sentence was too light.  "This is the face of a rapist!" sprawled across his smiling face in capitalized Impact font.  Maybe he deserved more time than he got.  Maybe sexists who perpetuate Rape Culture will think twice before spreading it explicitly through demeaning women or implicitly through microaggressions they can never be adequately conscious of.  I kind of doubt it though.

Sixth, I maintain my right to silence because of James 3.  There the apostle writes, "For we all stumble in many ways. And if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body... So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things. How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell. For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so."  Are Christians supposed to "rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep" (Rom. 12:5)?  Yes, but “Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven" (Matt. 6:5).  I strongly suspect that Christ did not have "weepy emoji" in mind when he said one should weep with those who weep.

We used to believe in a sort of Stoical, dignified silence.  we called it the Culture of Dignity.  It essentially adopted the attitude of the old Stoics.  You were born into a particular set of circumstances.  Some can be changed, others cannot.  This includes the perception of others.  Some people were sexist.  By accomplishing great things in spite of disapproval, women could change some opinions.  Others would remain entrenched in misogyny until they died.  In this culture, people were encouraged to put the minds of small, miserable people to shame by their ability to live well in spite of bigoted opposition.  The understanding was that such bullies were beneath even your contempt.  Best to ignore them.  Our culture may well have shifted to a culture of victimhood.  Now, you must bear the mantle of ending prejudice by turning the tables and shaming oppressors!  Odd choice.  As Socrates asked in The Republic, "Do you make bad men good by exacting revenge?  Or do you just make them worse?"  As a very humble woman (who also has a lot to be proud of) recently said to me, "Sexists aren't worth my time.  People used to think there was dignity in ignoring them, but now they think that's not good enough.  They won't get rid of it thought.  I just wish my friends would stop pressuring me into dissing them.  Woman-haters aren't worth it."  Maybe silence doesn't aid and abet.  Maybe a defiant silence does the should better than a digital diatribe.

Or as my Uncle Frank once told me, "Never argue with an idiot.  They'll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience."

This is to say nothing of the most magnificent of all silences, Reverence.  Some tragedies are so atrocious in the scope and scale they leave good people dumbstruck.  This is how it should be.  Maybe a moment of silence should be longer than a moment, and social media harping does in fact count as noise.  It's noise just like the guy smacking gum at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.  Do you remember that dignified and reverent silence we all treasured so dearly?  It is much harder to come by these days.  Beyond the ears, even the body now twitches with phantom buzzes.  Have you ever been alone in a moment of pregnant thought, the thrones of soulful birth pains perhaps on the verge of some meaningful thought, only to feel an electric tingle.   Did someone just text me?  No... how odd.  Well, might as well check facebook...

I close with our Digital Miranda rights.  If retaining these rights causes me to somehow further a cause destined to bring ruination on the globe, then I will chisel my recantation into the walls of my prison cell as I await execution for not sharing that article on Monstanto.

• You have the right to remain silent and refuse to trend hashtag justice.
• Anything you say will probably be used against you in the Court of Public Opinion.
• You have the right to consult a digital attorney before engaging that troll.  Unfortunately, you can't keep an attorney on retainer pro bono.
• If you decide to engage without a social media attorney, you waive the right to delete your bone-headed comment before someone screenshots it and puts you in a digital pillory.
• Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them, are you really willing to post that without an attorney present?

Our Ancient Happy Family

The most striking thing to me in my first serious read-through of Aristotle's Politics comes at the very beginning where Aristotle claims the origin of civil government is the family.  For Aristotle, families are comprised of the rulers and the ruled (just as each individual has within himself an element of ruling and being ruled or sovereignty and submission).  Husbands rule the household and wives obey them (here there may be a fair amount of misogyny in his description of women and wives).  Children are subject to the parents, especially the father.  Slaves are subject to the household manager (whichever parent happens to be holding that role).  He then notes how recognizable governments came to be.  Families grew in the number of children and those children grew into adults and started families of their own.  These families stayed within a fairly close distance, forming a village.  As space came to a premium, villages continued to grow in size until they became a collection of villages--towns and then cities.  Cities achieved what Aristotle considered full political statehood: the polis.  When cities connect themselves together under greater rulers, they became full-fledged nations.  Everything Aristotle writes in books 2-9 of Politics is based on that foundation.  The family is a microcosm of the state, whether we are considering villages, local communities, city-states, or grand empires.

The Old Testament/Hebrew Bible offers a similar account.  As we are reminded at weddings, God's first institution is not the church or the state or the charity or the bridge club but the marriage.  Adam and Eve constitute a divinely-ordained covenant.  Dysfunction going forward in the biblical narrative is often traced back to "sins of the father".  Jacob, Isaac and Rebekkah, Abraham, Noah, and most ultimately Adam are directly or indirectly responsible for contention in the narrative of Genesis (and arguably the rest of the biblical narrative).  So the problems between men both personally and in society are in some fashion a fault of the father.  Aaron's failure to properly train his sons Nadab and Abihu as priests lead to their deaths in one of the few narrative sections of Leviticus.  Another very dramatic example is the story of David.  In the wake of his adultery with Bathsheba and murder of Uriah, God curses him with strife in his family.  And while much ink has been spilled on the lust of David, much less has followed his shocking passivity as Amnon and Absalom commit atrocious sins.  This culminates in an Israelite civil war as Absalom cultivates latent resentment against the king into a war of usurpation.  David's famous lament for his son in 2 Samuel 18 is the culmination of his failures as a general and king, but at least as importantly his failures as a husband and father:

“O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!”

The New Testament carries this theme forward.  One of the most scandalous things Jesus does in the Gospels is refer to Yahweh as "Father" and himself as the Son of God.  In some ways this can be seen as a political statement as well as a statement of love, since in Genesis the notion of sovereignty begins with Yahweh's sovereignty over the creation he spoke into being from nothing.  Jesus is often called "lord" or "master" in the Gospels, translated in English Bibles from the Greek κύριος.  In Greek, this word can be used as a polite term for a teacher or social superior.  However, it is also the word used in the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament) for the Hebrew יהוה ("Yahweh", usually rendered in English Bibles as "the LORD").  As Christian writers continue forward, they describe Jesus as "Lord" and attribute to him both the traditional Greek political connotations and the Hebrew divine sense of the term.  Jesus is also identified as the "Christ" or "Messiah", Greek and Hebrew words meaning "anointed one" and used exclusively in reference to reigning kings (thus David and Solomon are rightly understood as lesser "messiahs").  The reign of Jesus as "king of kings" is a political image... and a familial one.

The Apostles are no exception to entwining the family and the community.  Paul instructs families in 1 Corinthians, Ephesians, and Colossians.  Paul also considers government officials as executors of God's will and ruling with divinely-delegated authority in Romans 13.  Peter gives similar instructions in 1 Peter as a part of his general instructions to submit to all authority.  The author of Hebrews compares a Christian's relationship to God as one of a father disciplining his children (just as Jesus does in the Gospels).  The authors of the epistles (particularly John) do not favor the term "Christian" for one another; they (gender-inclusively) use "brothers" or "brethren".  This is a clear and over-ridding use of family language for the much larger institution that is the Church.  In light of this evidence, Jews and Christians alike ought to see something quite familiar and even agreeable in Aristotle's depiction of politics.

In contrast, some of the American Founders, particularly those taking their cues from John Locke like as Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and Alexander Hamilton, see the state as a necessary evil above all else.  After all, Locke's account for political origins in his Second Treatise seems a bit less cuddly.  Rational, free individuals lived in a state of nature perfect harmony and respect.  Everyone only ever used what they could enjoy.  Resources were limited enough that a free individual's reach could rarely exceed their grasp.  It was only with the introduction of money that things started to get chaotic, developing into a state of war where strife for scarce resources threatened the life, liberty, and property of all.  So the most intelligent and hardworking individuals arranged a contractual system by which all people would surrender some of their individual sovereignty to an authority figure.  They must obey this figure so long as he asked reasonably of them and defended their life, liberty, and property.  So really, government is something we had to invent because "if men were angels, no government would be necessary."  We are not governed nor governors by nature, only by necessity.

Modern attitudes towards politics tend to be informed by this mentality whether or not anyone is cognizant of Locke's myth.  Most Americans are fairly negative in their appraisal of the political process and politicians, more so with each passing year.  We "just know" that every politician is corrupt even if we have zero evidence to substantiate that belief.  Government solutions are either inadequate or too modest in scope.  We don't trust our representatives to tell us the truth.  And while we recognize the necessity of making some individuals unequal in their authority, we also refuse to surrender to their assurances that they know what's best for us.  No one knows what's best for us better than we free individuals!

I am by no means suggesting that politicians need less accountability or that we need more government programs.  I am instead saying that maybe our outright negativity toward politics and government is wrong and destructive, especially if we view our fellow citizens and countrymen as brothers and sisters in a temporary and ever-uncertain life.  Maybe we could learn to appreciate the political process and return to a civic virtue that takes our role as citizens seriously.  Libertarians (who buy Locke almost wholesale) would have us believe that the best bulwark against tyranny is less government.  But I rather agree with Aristotle who said, in light of our family-city, "Man is a political animal."  Politics isn't a nasty thing like excreting or bathing that we do because we have to.  Man is the only animal to arrange himself in a group, to rule and be ruled.  Maybe politics is part of what makes us human.

In fourth-grade I was given a citizenship award by my teacher.  I had no idea what this meant then.  Reflecting back, it's sad that I didn't.  Aristotle's point about genuine concern for our fellowmen--both body and soul--through political action is the very basis of any free republic.  Ignore the economist, the pundit, the cynic who would have you believe that some abstract state always expands into tyranny.  The liberals are right to note that the state only expands where free citizens fail.  Now I understand and am honored by that flimsy piece of paper I lost a long time ago.  The best bulwark against tyranny isn't less government, it's better citizens.  Citizens who care about other citizens, citizens who use what they have to help out others whether through tax dollars or moral oversight or bodies in the army or even out of their own pockets, citizens who are truly "other-centric" are the worst enemy of any potential tyrant.

Should Christians Vote? (Part 2)

Others, such as Cal Thomas[1] and John MacArthur[2], argue that Christians ought not to worry about politics and instead focus on evangelism.  Thomas states this position well:

No matter how hard they try to protect the gospel from corruption, ministers who focus on politics and politicians as a means of redemption must minimize their ultimate calling and message.  The road to redemption does not run through Washington, D.C.  Politicians can’t redeem themselves from the temptations of Washington.  What makes anyone think they can redeem the rest of us?[3]

Whether the law [concerning government restrictions on political statements from the pulpit] is repealed, or not, churches and ministers would do better to keep their attention focused on the things above, rather than the things below, because politics can be the ultimate temptation and pollute a far superior and life-changing message.[4]

For adherents to this position, while there is no active prohibition on Christians voting or participating in politics, the real focus of Christians should be on evangelism and gospel-preaching.  Ministers are not first and foremost political theorists, and Christians should not be first and foremost political advocates but preachers and servants of transformative gospel.  The world will not be changed by political rallies, they argue, but by the spread of Christianity to all the earth.


Grudem contends that this position is too disparaging of Christian political involvement because it demonstrates too narrow a view of the gospel and of Biblical teaching.  He argues that the gospel is not limited to salvation but is rather “God’s good news about all of life!”[5]  Since the whole Bible is part of God’s good news, it follows that the entire Bible must be considered as part of what Jesus charged the church to go forth and teach.  Thus, we must consider Christian political activism to be worthwhile “if it is part of what God teaches us in Scripture, then of course it does spiritual good, because it is something that pleases God.”[6]  Grudem also says that this “do evangelism, not politics” view is wrong because the gospel includes life transformation as a fundamental aspect of it.  If the gospel changes individual lives, it ought to change them throughout and entirely, including their social and political lives.  It is not as though God only cares about spiritual things, Grudem writes, but also their physical lives.  Christians ought to let the gospel inform their voting just at is it informs the way they do business, maintain friendships, and serve in their communities.

Scripture has powerful words on the subject of stewardship.  Perhaps the most relevant are 1 Peter 4:10-11 which read, “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies—in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”  These verses tell us that God has given us all gifts—and not just in the context of money as stewardship is usually discussed—for edifying each other and glorifying God.  Peter says that those who speak should talk like God.  Those who serve should serve through God’s power and in God’s name.  All that man has God has given him and he should use it all to glorify God.  As people who live in a historically-unique situation, one in which the average person has at least some level of political choice and voice, shouldn’t Christians use the political gift they have been given to glorify God?  Can Christians who abstain from voting really be said to have “made the most of every opportunity because the days are evil”?[7]  Instead, those who take a hard-separation view seem to believe that Christians ought to abstain from some opportunities because the days are evil.  This kind of attitude reminds one of the ostrich that sticks its head in the ground, keeping its conscience unsullied while the world may be crumbling around it.  Christians should vote, keeping in mind the God they must account unto for their vote, while they still have a chance.  Universal suffrage is, as aforementioned, a historical anomaly which may not last forever.
***


The paper ended here but let me supplement some additional thoughts.


I do not intend to advocate for some sort of kingdom of Heaven here on earth.  In fact, the early Evangelicals of the 1950s and 1960s were very much against political involvement.  In their day the mainline denominations had wed themselves fully to the social gospel and progressivism.  Thus, men like Martin Lloyd-Jones or Karl Barth denounced political advocacy and political philosophy as aberrant distractions from preaching and teaching the Bible (though granted Barth had Nazism AND liberalism in mind).  It wasn't until Jerry Falwell founded the Moral Majority in 1979 that Evangelicalism began its passionate love affair with the Republican Party.  Jimmy Carter still hasn't recovered from that bitter divorce, given that he announces his departure the Southern Baptist Convention every year.


Now we young Evangelicals can blog our hearts out about how cranky we are at our parents for engaging in culture wars that left us and all our gay friends jaded and disillusioned.  There's actually quite a lot to be said for this sentiment.  At some point the Reagan-Falwell wedding spawned a generation of dysfunction, some being the Ron-Paul-leaning Neo-Reformed, some obedient and stalwart Republicans, some compassionate-if-naive moderates, and more than a couple rebellious, "look-how-NOT-my-conservative-parents-I-am!" political liberals.  And of these simplistic yet all-too-common archetypes, all would seize upon the label "Evangelical", even if not always the heritage.  All these reactions are understandable, particularly as Christians became a bit too wed to the Republican platforms of the '90s and '00s.  I remember hearing more about welfare and terrorism in church than I did about predestination.  Regeneration and a solid doctrine of the Kingdom (both Here and Not-Here-Yet) were things I missed until college!  That's a damning thing to realize; all three of those have more biblical basis than civic marriage policy or national defense.  No really.


It would be easy at this point to conclude that we Christians should leave our religion out of voting.  After all, we don't want other people forcing their religion on us (like sharia law, a legal code universally bad if you believe in individual rights).  And yet I, being a reckless and self-important bloggerist, have chosen to navigate a rockier, nuance, and I believe ultimately truer course.

If we Christians truly believe what we say we do, namely that the Bible offers a true account of the universal human condition, then we cannot pretend it doesn't exist in civic life.  Our politics must be informed by the narrative we espouse.  It's for this reason that I openly reject John Locke and Thomas Jefferson's assertion that politics is a necessary evil.  I reject wholesale the notion that government is a contractual agreement between citizens.  I reject that a law is just simply because the parties under contractual obligation have assented to the terms of the agreement.  Instead, I affirm that our laws must match a natural standard, something which exists beyond all legislation and predates it.  All our laws are a reflection of this Natural Law, an unwritten, decidedly unscientific account of our souls.  The fulfillment of Natural Law is human flourishing, namely when man begins to live corporately in such a way that he finds his deepest longings and desires satisfied according to his individual and communal nature.  Is the Bible right when it teaches Imago Dei and the Fall?  Is that true even for people who don't believe it?  And--most importantly--can we construct our laws in such a way to counter or even roll back the Fall?  If the gospel of Jesus Christ brings life to all things it touches, why do we regard secular law as the exception?

Or I'll put it plainly: to leave religion out of our voting is to make relative the truest account of our mortal condition.  This is not to say that we should institute Levitical law or ban gay marriage.  It is to say that we oughtn't check our faith at the door just because we don't want to be perceived as fighting the culture war.  I agree with Aristotle that the end goal of all legislation is justice.  Further, the end goal of earthly justice is human flourishing, not fairness or equality (as though all men were the same in faculty or virtue).  So the question on a given issue--like gay marriage, to chose a timely example--is not "Is this fair to homosexuals as compared with heterosexuals?" but rather is "Which leads to greater human fulfillment?  What is best for men individually and corporately (aka 'the state')?  What best fits the purposes of man and the longings of his soul?"  The answer to the flourishing question may be the same as to the equality question, or it may be entirely different.  Such is the nature of particular justice.

---

[1] Cal Thomas, “Pulpit Bullies,” Tribute Media Services (October 2, 2008). www.calthomas.com/index/php?news-2381. Accessed May 7, 2012.

[2] John MacArthur, Why Government Can’t Save You: An Alternative to Political Activism (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000).

[3] Thomas, “Pulpit Bullies”.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Grudem, Politics According to the Bible, 45, (italics original).

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ephesians 5:16.

Should Christians Vote? (Part 1)

The church and the state have had a convoluted relationship throughout Christian history.  Jesus himself was killed by the authority of a secular political governor.  This same Roman Empire which crucified him as a disruptive threat would eventually give his church official sanction.  In the medieval period, the head of this Roman church would intervene in political affairs both between nations and within their borders.  Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin entwined their reform movements with their local governments.  The Anabaptists took a radically different tack, preaching hard pacifism and eschewing any political involvement.  Even “Christian” governments persecuted other religions and denominations throughout this time, from the Jews in medieval Europe to the Baptists in colonial Massachusetts.  In the twenty-first century, many Christians live in liberal democracies which have universal suffrage.  They have the option to vote for Christian candidates and choose their own leaders from among the regular populace and not the ruling elite.  But is a Christian engaging in political life entwining the church and the state?  Worse still, is Christian political involvement distracting them from the Great Commission to preach the gospel to the ends of the earth?  Not at all; rather, Christians ought to engage in politics with no burden of conscience because they are stewards of the vote and political voice God has given them in modern democracies.

Some believe that Christians should have nothing at all to do with civil government—including voting—because government is evil and demonic.  They argue that Satan is the god of this world and governments are wicked, fallen manifestations of his power.  Therefore, Christians should have nothing to do with them.  Is he not after all the ruler of the powers and principalities of this world?  This is essentially the argument Greg Boyd makes in Myth of a Christian Nation.  There he argues from Luke 4:5-6[1] that Satan is the authority over the dark powers of the world.  In this verse, Satan is tempting Jesus to bow down and worship him.  He entices him by claiming that the kingdoms of the world have been given over to him; if Jesus will worship, Satan will give him authority over the world.  Thus, Boyd concludes that Satan is the ruler of the governments of the world.[2]  Christians should have nothing to do with government because it is fundamentally wicked and destructive.

Wayne Grudem addresses this argument in his book God and Politics.  He writes that the mistake of this proof-text is that Satan is probably lying to Jesus.  First, he notes that Jesus calls Satan “the father of lies”.  Christians are falling into Satan’s deception when they give him more credit than they actually should.  Second, he notes that there are specific verses which say that civil government is a gift from God and is subject to his authority, not Satan’s.  He gives the examples of Daniel 4:17, Romans 13:1-6, and 1 Peter 2:13-14 and notes that they all indicate that God is sovereign over all creation.  Even further, Grudem notes that these verses teach that worldly governments are tools of God to further his ends on earth.[3]


Daniel 4:17 teaches that God is the ultimate source of all political authority and therefore Christians should not be shy about political involvement.  The verse reads, “‘The sentence is by the decree of the watchers, the decision by the word of the holy ones, to the end that the living may know that the Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom he will and sets over it the lowliest of men.’”  In context, the speaker is God in a vision to King Nebuchadnezzar.  Nebuchadnezzar saw a great tree which shaded the animals, provided nests for the birds, and fed all men on the earth.  Then a watchman from heaven orders that the tree be cut down and his mind reduced to madness.  The prophet Daniel interprets this dream to mean that the great Nebuchadnezzar will be brought low and driven to madness for a time by the King of Kings.  Thus, this verse clearly teaches that God is sovereign over all civil government.

Romans 13 is an even more explicit text on the relationship of Christians and political life.  Verses 1 through 5 read, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. 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. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God's servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God's wrath but also for the sake of conscience.” 


From these verses it may be seen first that God establishes and grants authority to governments.  This means that all governments have their authority ultimately derived from God.  Therefore executive decisions are carried out using power delegated to them by God.  Governments cannot be fundamentally Satanic because they were created by God.  They act to execute his will.  Second, governments rule for the sake of punishing wrong behavior and promoting good behavior.  These verses indicate that it is not wrong for the government to punish its own citizens, even using violent means (“for he does not bear the sword in vain”) to do so.  In fact, since the governor is God’s servant and is avenging God’s wrath, it would be wrong for him not to do so.  Since he is bearing the sword for God and God has given it to him to execute judgment, a pacifist official who would refuse to punish lawbreakers would be a sinner himself!  Third, the government official is God’s servant for the good of the citizens.  Therefore, Christians should have minimal conflict with governors or government officials under normal circumstances.  Both Christians and governors, even if they are wicked governors, are servants of God and have more in common in their duties than distinct.  This concept also informs how Christians should view governing.  Good government exists to serve God and the citizens, not the stated ends of a superior or the self-interest of the governor himself or the interests of a particular faction within in the state.  The good governor must regard the good of all within the political community.


Peter agrees with Paul that government is not Satanic but divine.  1 Peter 2:13-14 reads, “Be subject for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good.”  At the end of this paragraph Peter notes one thing which Paul already did in Romans—governors are sent by God to punish evil and praise good on his behalf.  The first part of this verse is instructive; Christians must submit to the government for the sake of the Lord.  Here obedience to governmental officials is commended as obedience to God.  If those who equate government with Satanic authority are correct, how can they explain this passage?  How can a Christian be obedient to God while also being obedient to Satan?

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[1] These verses read, “And the devil took him up and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time, and said to him, “To you I will give all this authority and their glory, for it has been delivered to me, and I give it to whom I will.”  This and all subsequent Scripture quotations are taken from The ESV Study Bible, (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 2008).

[2] Greg Boyd, The Myth of a Christian Nation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2005), 21-22.

[3] Wayne Grudem, Politics According to the Bible (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010), 37-38.