“Political Theology.” Ok, be honest, upon hearing this phrase, “political theology,” how many of you started looking for the exits? How many of you are a flight risk? It’s perfectly understandable that you are. We all, in varying degrees, labor under the assumption that we must isolate our faith and formation from the rest of our daily life. We call it “the separation of church and state.” Our foremothers and forefathers sought religious freedom and left England. As a result, the US Supreme Court (SCOTUS) continues to interpret the First Amendment to the US Constitution even now.
I’m here to declare to you that the strict separation of church and state is not possible. As you sit in the pew, where is your voting self? You know, the one who votes your conscience according to your faith formation? So, when you stand in the voting booth, where is your Christian self? It is right there with you. Actually, We can no more separate ourselves than Solomon could cut the baby in half and expect to have two living babies as a result. Yet, we don’t want upset this so-called equilibrium that results from a separation of church and state. Why?
Family Dynamics and Political Theology – Not a Recommended Mix
Because, we know that family gatherings can get rather rambunctious when discussing politics, especially when combined with religion. For example, after the election in early November 2016, some families hired mediators for Thanksgiving dinner to referee the anticipated conflict. I mention this because I think people hear me encourage the action of political theology, and therefore think I want everybody to argue with their families!
Let me tell you, I avoid private political discussions with my family wherever possible! It is partly out of respect for my father, but frankly, it is more about protecting my spiritual and emotional reserves so that I can focus on public or political theology.
What is Political Theology?
And, by the way, I am not suggesting that the Church of the Holy Apostles does not do political theology mission. Holding worship services in a public park, feeding the hungry, and marching in the LGBTQ Pride Parade with a church banner leading the way are all wonderful examples of political theology!
Additionally, painting a quadrant of the Episcopal Church shield with a rainbow is subtle, but powerful because it is on your sign on the front lawn.
For more discussion about political theology, read more on our blog. For scholarly articles about this topic, explore www.politicaltheology.com.
These are all acts of inclusion and care for the marginalized that rest squarely on our biblical traditions of both testaments. They involve a public expression of faith to a broad audience. There are many more people than you realize who’ve seen your sign or your parade presence, your masses on the grasses, etc.
Considering your existing political theology missions, I’m offering my definition of what I mean when mentioning Political Theology. It has a two-pronged definition: 1) speaking faithfully in the town square—for example explaining why we want our government to care for “those suffering on the margins,” those whom Jesus called “the least of these.” And, 2) speaking faithfully to as wide an audience of the general public as possible.
Note that everybody has this right to publicly speak one’s faith, not just Christians. All faith members have the right to voice their faith tradition, not to establish superiority, but to exercise our civic duties as participants in the democratic process. To paraphrase John Stuart Mill, “Open debate arrives at the truth.”
Political theology and the First Amendment
So, political theology involves speaking faithfully in public to as many people as possible. We have a right to exercise our faith freely, to free speech, a free press, and rights to peaceably assemble, to petition our government for the redress of grievances. Sound familiar? These are our constitutional protections from the First Amendment.
In practicing law, I grew frustrated because I could not argue the gospel of love and compassion as an attorney in court. I was stuck with the case precedent across history. Case precedence lacks the expansiveness and fluidity of the gospel. As a matter of fact, court opinions are typically narrowing framed to a single issue, and often rendering them as brittle and inflexible. However, I realized I could argue the gospel in the court of public opinion. We all can,. Thus, we are all called to do so in the tradition of Jesus.
Why am I so focused on this? Because when Jesus was born, there were no protections like what we acquired through the Constitution. As a matter of fact, those scant 45 words of the First Amendment were nothing civilization had ever seen before. Yet, here’s the amazing thing,
Jesus acted like he actually had these Constitutional protections, and at great personal cost of his life.
As a result, we are even more politically empowered to teach the Good News in public. We who are members of the Way are called to imitate Christ who repeatedly called for justice in the public square before Jewish and Roman leaders. We have no excuse that releases us from this sacred Christian duty to work for justice other than infirmity.
Let’s review what Jesus was up against with a reality check. In Jesus’ time, you couldn’t petition Herod in front his palace to change the law without swift and severe punishment. You’d wind up with your head on a platter like John the Baptist, or on a cross like Jesus.
Herod was at war with himself because a new king appeared on the scene, he was insecure, ruthless, and sociopathic, a deadly admixture that results tyranny. Herod was so filled with anxiety and paranoia that he even lied to the Magi about his intent to pay homage to Jesus. The horror he later inflicted upon innocent children reflect this displeasure and his violent tendencies. Herod consistently preserved power politics as “the way things are.”
The wise people, too, acted politically and theologically — they risked all
Nevertheless, this wise group trekked right through that deceit in order to share of their treasure, their wares, wonder and worship. They did this at great personal risk by politically and faithfully by worshiping Jesus. These wise people did an end around Herod by going straight home afterwards according to instructions in a dream. The magi practiced political theology. They protected Jesus.
Now we turn to Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s stark sermon, “The Coming of Jesus in Our Midst.” I find Bonhoeffer’s legacy to be especially relevant because he experienced the rise of white nationalism in 1930’s Germany and gave his life to stop it. He calls out how we over-romanticize the season of Christmas:
“We have become so accustomed to the idea of divine love and of God’s coming at Christmas that we no longer feel the shiver of fear that God’s coming should arouse in us. We are indifferent to the message, taking only the pleasant and agreeable out of it and forgetting the serious aspect, that the God of the world draws near to the people of our little earth and lays claim to us. The coming of God is truly not only glad tidings, but first of all frightening news for everyone who has a conscience.”
Strikingly, Bonhoeffer instructs us to act in two very important ways. First, with fear and trembling, we all must sketch the contours of Grace as best we can, while also being firm in understanding all the majesty and strangeness of this Divine Grace. We called to do this for each other to grow in our faith. But we are also called to act with justice and mercy as living members of the one Body of Christ. And, in identifying that grace, our second sacred duty calls us to summon the courage to publicly identity evil based on our formation and discipleship in Jesus Christ, and work to end it permanently.
Evil is at work in the world, and it requires collaborators
Evil rarely presents itself as a beast with horns, fangs, and claws. Usually it dresses itself up in respectability. It burrows into systems that we rely on to keep our societies from spinning into chaos.
Evil rarely acts alone. Tyranny and arrogance can’t exist in a vacuum. They demand accomplices. They survive because their enablers are also contributors. But this is the kind of thing the king was certainly capable of doing.
I worry that the “The massacre of the Holy Innocents” has become something we have grown to accept because we have heard it so many times before. I fear that this has become the case at the detention centers where children are dying slowly or already have died.
Our unwitting complicity with evil systems
However, we need to see our own complicity as people who inhabit and benefit from systems that are dead set against welcoming Jesus into our midst. Consider, for example, who would have killed the children. Herod would have given the order, but he did not do the deed. He had “people.” Agents who would swoop in, pound on doors, and disappear again as quickly as they arrived.
Consider, too, the residents of that weary town of Bethlehem a few miles from Jerusalem. As each Rachel was found “weeping for her children,” the rest of the region would be momentarily disturbed. Parents embraced their kids a bit longer.
But at least Herod was building great palaces and shoring up Israel’s prospects, though still occupied by Rome. The economy bustled. Why throw that away by rocking the boat just because someone else’s children were hurt, starved or killed?
We are accountable for the evil done on our behalf
Herod was sly and worked his system through conceit, viciousness and cronyism in wicked combinations to advance his goals. These are the tools used by people who believe they will never be held accountable. Herod’s values, like any megalomaniac wove his ideology into patterns and norms that guide daily life. Those same norms become our ideology. They make us complicit; they make us conspirators.
Herod and his resistance to the reign of God remain alive and well today. “We the People” also have “people” to carry out the unsavory aspects of governance, however, we will be called to account, and what a shameful day that will be, unless we act.
Remember that in the law, silence equals agreement
The generosity of Christmastime allows us to forget about our complicity for a little while and imagine being set free. We often have memorized four stanzas of our favorite Christmas carols during the twelve days of Christmas. The joy of the season underscored our chosen-ness by God, who lays claim to us.
See. Think. Do. Pray. Repeat.
We must truly see the suffering beyond us to cut that tether to that present-day Herodian spirit. It is a spirit that chains us in the “prison of the way things are,” the status quo. We are called to see, think, pray, and act. And then repeat. Rejoice! “We the People” of Jesus’ Way are empowered to speak and act under the First Amendment.
“And rightly so.”
This blog is excerpted from a sermon given at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hilo, Hawai’i, January 5, 2020, on the Feast of the Epiphany (transferred).
