We do not normally publish letters of this great length – and the recommended maximum continues to be 200 words. But occasionally, very occasionally (!), there is an exception that proves the rule. And such is the helpful letter that follows.
-Ed.
Dear Editor,
What do Danny Kruger and Tim Farron have in common as MPs? For many, the answer will simply be their evangelical faith, a shared hope in Jesus that was reflected in Farron’s recent interview with Kruger elsewhere in the media.
Yet what we acknowledge less is how both of their politics are deeply shaped by their carefully considered evangelical values. In a sense, the fact that both are wrestling with how their shared kingdom values inform their views is deeply confusing and uncomfortable. It would be easy to dismiss our political counterparts as mad, bad, or doctrinally delinquent, but the reality is that – wherever you stand on the political spectrum – there are serious thinkers who love the Lord on both sides. Given these political differences, we are forced to confront whether our own views are in alignment with Scripture. Few of us – if we are honest – have ever really developed systematic political theologies or percolated on the finer points of political ecclesiology. We believe the church has a duty to care for vulnerable people, but does that mean that Caesar has a duty to let them pass through borders or provide expansive taxpayer-funded welfare systems? We believe in the importance of family as an expression of God’s relational nature, but does that mean the government should promote “family values”, or structure policy around promoting the traditional family unit?
I cannot answer these questions, but as the discourse becomes more polarised, even within the church (broadly construed), it highlights the need for reflection.
1. The church needs to encourage political theology: Far too often, the church has fallen into two extremes, where either the pulpit becomes a political podium or churches avoid any sort of reference to politics. Rarely are either helpful. Even where the preacher legitimately gives their view while expounding the text, this can be harmful. Charles Spurgeon remarked: “Ministers do well to give their votes and to express their opinions for the guidance of the people.” But he added this must be done “in proportion as the preaching becomes political and the pastor sinks the spiritual in the temporal, strength is lost and not gained.” Rather, as in other areas of theology, local and broader church leadership should – with Biblical guardrails – encourage congregations to wrestle deeply with how their political perspectives align with Scripture, our authority. This is a healthy exercise because, even if it does not elicit consensus (I’m a conservative Baptist – I get quite worried when churches look for consensus on secondary doctrinal issues!), it encourages and provokes us to submit ourselves to Scripture in all our beliefs. Like the Bereans in Acts 17, we should test our theology – political or otherwise – against God’s Word.
One method for this is for congregations to be encouraged to speak with people they do not see eye-to-eye with, to be exposed to alternative views, and to pursue relationships in spite of it. This is not merely helpful in encouraging congregants to go deeper into their personal systematic theology, political or otherwise, but for outreach and evangelism. If we are comfortable sharing and discussing our views with people with whom we disagree, we will be more comfortable sharing our faith with people who do not yet know the truth of the gospel.
2. The Bible provides principles, not policies: As we reflect and build political theologies, it is perhaps helpful to remind ourselves that the Bible is not a political manifesto. When Jesus said “render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s” (Matt. 22v21), He didn’t specify what appropriate tax policy should be. Likewise, when Paul commands the church to submit to the authorities in Romans 13v1-7, there remains some question – most famously articulated by Dietrich Bonhoeffer – on how absolute this command is. While we must be careful not to reduce the clear teaching of Scripture to principles that might be used to circumvent that teaching, as is the mechanism being used to theologically liberalise much of the church, we must nonetheless honour the fact that in most matters, Scripture gives us principles. Once we remind ourselves of that, we can better and more humbly recognise that our policy positions are not necessarily the “Christian position” (they are rather, a Christian position). And this makes it easier to disagree in a Christ-like way with our political interlocutors. For example, in a disagreement over welfare spending, remembering that the disagreement is usually not over whether those struggling should be supported – that’s a Biblical commitment – but by whom and under what circumstances. The two-child cap debate is an illustrative example. In a recent letter to the editor in the Church Times, the Revd C. Peter Malloy rightly notes that while the Bishop of Leicester can draw on Scriptural principles to support the removal of the cap, the Bible doesn’t necessitate his position: “The lack of nuance in conflating the charity of the Early Church with the responsibilities of an increasingly secular state is also unhelpful.” The Bible does not give policy; it gives principles that can be legitimately outworked in different ways.
3. Our primary realm is the Kingdom, not the political realm. The public debate has become partly fixated on “Christian nationalism”. The term, like “one nation conservatism” or “open evangelicalism” is, as far as I can tell, so vague and ephemeral as to be of limited utility. Nonetheless, it is clear that the fact that much of the discourse is focusing on whether the UK is or should be a Christian country is indicative of a growing focus on the intersection of the ‘Two Kingdoms’, the spiritual and civil realm, to use the framework elaborated by Martin Luther in the Reformation. As Christians, we all – whatever our political persuasion – have our politics shaped by our faith. As a church, we have not done a good job in encouraging one another to wrestle deeply with how that intersection plays out. Is our role to build a “Christian nation” or “a nation shaped by Christian values”, to use the framing preferred by the political right and left, respectively? Perhaps there is, underneath it all, no difference.
However we answer those questions, it is important for us to remember that what unites us is greater than that which divides us: our primary allegiance to the Kingdom of God. As 1 Peter 2v9 reads: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.” In all of our political advocacy, commentary, or voting, we must remember that primarily our role is co-work in the coming of the Kingdom here on earth, not the advancement of a political ideology for a nation-state that will inevitably come to an end. That’s not to say these are not important, but we must keep a sense of proportion and prioritisation. Our work for the Lord, ultimately, is not about building a better world; it is about growing the Kingdom, inviting people into the joy of knowing Him as Lord, God, and friend. In that Commission, the Tim Farrons and Danny Krugers of the world are one. When He stood before Pilate, Jesus was presented as an earthly political insurrectionist, leading a rebellion against Rome. The reality, as Jesus clarified, is “My kingdom is not of this world.” (John 18v36) The Bible was never intended to be a manifesto for this world and, while we – the church – are in it, we are not of it. Let us seek God in our politics, indeed in every aspect of our lives, but let us do so recognising that we first and foremost belong to Him.
Yours sincerely,
Dr Matthew James Norris-Silva
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