Divine Plagiarism

For someone with two policy degrees, the television is a powerful temptation. Not so much MTV’s barely clad and barely literate beach bimboes. You can have those, I honestly couldn’t care less. My weakness is the seductive slow scroll at the bottom of the screen, the flashing headlines, and the slowly ticking clock always in the bottom left corner, reminding you constantly that this is real-time. It almost feels like you’re in the middle of the story, like you’re on the fifty yard line of the big game. To an American, news is not some golf game; there is no polite clapping for a well-played hole. News is football, and in football the crowd the twelfth man. A spectator is transformed into a teammate, and a teammate has no room for nuance. You want your team to win, and the other team to lose. A spectator has no stake in the outcome, but neither do they have any impact on that outcome. A teammate trades his objectivity for a share in the victory and a chance to impact the outcome. In cheering for your side, you gain a sense of involvement and a semblance of control. Ultimately, that semblance of control ties you to your favorite team; their victories become yours, as do their losses. You live vicariously through their acts on the field. So to the sports fan, the Bears, to the soap watcher, J.R., and to the news junkie, the Republicans.

So I begin to realize the dangers of my addiction to twenty-four hour news. I am taught by the high-impact graphics, the stereo sound effects, and the intense tone of the announcers that the outcome of this moment’s crisis hinges upon me and only me, provided I stay tuned in through the commercial break. I learn to greatly overstate my role in the never-ending policy battles. In the immediacy of the constant crisis of governance, I forget that this world is sustained by the loving hands of Jehovah, not by my feeble abilities. So one party takes over from another. Happens to be the party I don’t identify with. News predictably goes into crisis mode. Only through my rapt attention can the republic be saved. Stay tuned, because we‘re all depending on you. No doubt I overstate this, but there seems to be some society-wide schizophrenia spurred by the 24 hour news cycle; an engineered delusion of grandeur to guarantee ratings. The seduction is the illusion of control: just like the sports fan shouting at the TV, you feel as if your attention can actually shape outcomes.

It is of course untrue. God has an interesting way of teaching. I am terminally cheap, and I am currently minus a roommate. Cable costs $50 a month. Hence, I don‘t have cable, or 24 hour news. The crazy thing is that even without my constant vigilance the world has not yet tumbled out of its orbit or fallen into the sun. I haven’t fallen totally out of touch. Just like any good New York Times reporter, I always check Drudge each morning for my stories. I find that there is little in the news world that cannot be understood through daily updates. Far more importantly, though, my daily news fasts remind me that I do not hold this universe together. If God can provide for the lilies of the field and the sparrows, I’m pretty sure He can sort through whatever crises we can create. God is sovereign, and He doesn’t need my help. This is something I need to remind myself of.

When St. Augustine wrote City of God, Barbarians were at the gates of Rome, knocking rather forcefully with large tree trunks. In his day, people pretty much saw Rome and the Kingdom of God as one. Starting from this assumption, one can certainly understand how the prospect of the fall of Rome would be a terrifying proposition. Augustine writes of two cities: the City of God and the City of Man. The City of Man was Rome. Its fall was not a pleasant thing, and certainly not a positive event in the progress of humanity. Nonetheless, Rome was built by human hands, and could be destroyed by those same hands. The pillars of the Senate could never bear the weight of man’s hopes of heaven. Only the hands of God can fashion a vessel to carry man’s hope of eternity. He builds with men, not with stone. A kingdom not built by man, but built of men by the hand of God could never be overthrown by the hands of men. The City of God was safe and unassailable, ruled by His indomitable will. With his book, Augustine changed our understanding of history, and this is why we still study it. I do not think this was his purpose, though. He was reminding Romans that the fall of their beloved city was not the end of the world. Rome was simply not New Jerusalem.

There seem to be two unfortunately complimentary mistakes in the way that American Christians view our country. Either we are the simplistic root of all evil, the easy explanation for all the world’s ills, or we are the spiritual successor to the Nation of Israel, a nation set apart by God, the incarnation of His promise. These diametrically opposite problems are rooted in the same error: a vast overestimation of our significance. Both sides are equally guilty of pride. One assumes that the world’s only hope is in the advancement of the American agenda, the other assumes that the world’s only hope is in the thwarting of the American imperial will. The world’s only hope is in the person of Jesus Christ. Washington, just as any other city, is caught in the tension of the City of Man. That tension is influenced by the story of the City of God, but it is not the same story.

Let me state this clearly. I love America. I believe this country is different, a noble if imperfect experiment of human dignity still in the working. But America is not New Jerusalem. The fate of the City of God cannot be measured in American electoral returns. Byron (I think,) wrote to his lover, ‘I could not love you nearly as much had I not loved honor more.’ I fight to defend America. I willingly lay down my life to protect her, and I will take lives in her defense. I have friends who have died defending her. But I would not love America nearly so much if I did not love Christ more. Not nearly so much if I did not remember that He is not her.

There is a line of thought which mixes the Old Testament idea of a national covenant with the concept of Manifest Destiny. Replacement Theology, I think it is called. America equals the Old Testament Israel, and her sole purpose is the defense of the New Israel. Don’t get me wrong. I support Israel. Because they are a Democracy, because an Arab Muslim has more rights in Israel than in any other country in the region, and because they are a stalwart ally. Not because I think God needs my help to protect His people. I support Israel because of my desire to steward my stake in the City of Man, not because I think I can vote the City of God into power. Such an error leads toward an even more dangerous line of reasoning which equates a vote for the Republican Party with a vote for God. Frankly, it is idolatry to claim divine sanction upon a party platform. I am a Republican. God is not. I know the party platform, and I am fairly certain that Christ would not categorically approve of all its planks.

The opposite line of thought weaves Liberation Theology together with the Social Gospel, albeit using gentler words. Really, it is the same mistake: a desire to usher in the City of God using the tools of the City of Man. The ‘lets find a Kalashnikov’ verse of this song has given way to a more benign ‘blame America first’ refrain. I remember an InterVarsity Graduate Student conference, where Marva Dawn gave a talk. I was particularly displeased when during her sermon she mentioned ‘the powers and principalities which are paying for your education, which are the United States military and government.’ Returning to the idolatry discussion, if you’re going to stamp ‘Thus Saith the Lord’ on something, you better be darn sure you’re objectively right. Remember the Old Testament standard for people who claimed to speak in His name: either you are 100% correct or you learn very unpleasantly about the momentum transfer capabilities of rocks. Perhaps we should remember the Law’s reverence for His Name before we go attaching it to any policy preference that catches our fancy. Let’s unpack Marva Dawn’s statement for a second. First, US Government and Military (Both conservative strongholds at the time) equals the powers and the principalities. Second, our war is not against flesh and blood, but against the powers and principalities. Therefore, our spiritual war is against the values running the United States. If this doesn’t flash pretty big theological alarm signs, let’s try it this way: US Government and Military equals powers and principalities. God is irreconcilably opposed to the powers and principalities. Therefore, there is a divine imperative to oppose the policies of the United States. I question how different this statement is from the ‘God is a Republican’ idea. I remember Ramoth Vinochandra’s talk at the same conference, where he preached that ‘American tariffs are sinful.’ I don’t recall anyone adding Keynes, Marx or Smith to the canon or the commandments. I question how different his thoughts are from the ‘God wants a tax cut’ line that the Falwell crowd is known for.

All you conspiracy theorists out there should know how tool of the false dichotomy can be used to maintain control. You don’t have to believe in black helicopters to see how one might present two seemingly opposite choices in order to conceal real choice. Tito used this tool to great effect in the former Yugoslavia. The Serbs would look out for their interests vice other groups, as would the Croats, and the Bosnians. Each of the groups was so concerned with their relative standing that none stopped to question Tito’s place as dictator over all three. Our enemy is far more adept at using this tool. Consider the world that Christ was born into. On one hand, you have the Pharisees, armed with rules and religious ritual. On the other hand, you have the Romans, delighting in decadence and debauchery. At first glance, the two groups look diametrically opposed to each other. Upon further study, we find that they share a central similarity: pride. Neither group is interested in the least in submitting to God. The illusion of choice hides the one true choice: whether or not to submit to God. Really, the Pharisees and the Romans were two sides of the same coin. So if both sides of the coin are bad, then you should throw it out and find a new one.

C.S. Lewis wrote an essay during the Second World War entitled ‘Why I am Not a Pacifist.’ His basic argument is that military service has traditionally been a civic duty, and there is no clear biblical injunction prohibiting such service. In fact, the Scriptures command loyalty to the laws of the state in so far as they do not conflict with the laws of God. Lewis is quite Hobbesian in his regard, stating that your loyalty to your state is a simple function of where you are born. He takes issue with American exceptionalism in later letters, but his point is that we owe Caesar what is his, and one of those things is loyalty, another is contributions to the common defense. I do believe that America is something new amongst the Cities of Man. Nonetheless, we are of the Cities of Man. We are not the City of God. Instead of lessening the imperative for loyalty and service, this redoubles it. The City of Man will fall without the hands of men defending it, both in words and in deeds. Romans thirteen is clear. Christ was clear when He said ‘give unto Caesar what is his.’ So upon His words, we will find our new coin. We should not give to Caesar what is God’s. The laws of man do not supersede the laws of God. But we cannot rob Caesar of what is his by virtue of his Divinely appointed position. So the laws of man must supersede our preferences, and under our social contract, loyalty and service are two of those laws.

Lewis wrote a second article germane to this discussion. ‘The Dangers of National Repentance.’ He expresses dismay at the movements in Britain calling for the nation to claim its role in the Second World War, believing that contrition will lead to peace. Lewis emphatically states that he wholeheartedly supports any movement toward repentance and contrition, but he somewhat questions the motives of those calling for it. He correctly points out that most of those calling for it were rebellious students who went out of their way to cause trouble for the authority figures in their span of influence. He questions the qualifications of those who do not show the least bit of contrition in the relationships closest to them. If one is unwilling to repent for those things in their immediate vicinity, they are hardly suited to lead a national repentance for issues across the channel. He hits on something deeply true here. You must love something and consider yourself a part of something if you are to critique it as ‘us.’ I question that love for many who put on ‘we’ to bash this country, when they have never said a positive thing about this country in their life. This reeks of contrived legitimacy through false contrition.

I am reminded of a friend’s story about one of her friends. I find it interesting that the neo-monasticism movement is generally populated by those with privileged upbringings. This is excellent, and I in no way mean to denigrate it. However, there is a difference between ‘I choose to give up these conveniences to pursue God’ and ‘you are wasteful and you should as well.’ So her friend comes home from a neo-monastic church retreat, and proceeds to inform her parents of how wasteful they are. They drive a luxury car, and she begins to get preachy on how it was immoral for them to spend that much money on a car when people were starving. Her parents told her lovingly that the car was a result of their labor, and as much as they were happy with her drawing closer to God with her experience, they found it inappropriate for her to lecture them on investments, given their lifetime investment in her. Upon further reflection, she realized the forty thousand they had invested yearly into her college education could buy six very nice luxury cars over the four years she spent in school. Upon that realization, the preaching stopped. I was fortunate. I received full scholarships for all of my schools. This does not give me the right to preach, in fact, it should make me even more grateful. I don’t recall ancient Rome giving full scholarships to its most advanced schools to children of policemen. Because of the country I am blessed to live in, I have been afforded these opportunities. The least I can do is fulfill my portion of the social contract.

I recall vividly a series of posts and emails from another friend of a friend. This woman attended an Ivy league school, and was stuck in Lebanon during the unpleasantness with Israel. She is an American citizen. She is also a Christian. In each post, she shrieked her hatred for America, blamed America for everything that was happening, and openly mocked the same American soldiers who were coming in to rescue her. To her great credit, she apologized to the soldiers, and I deeply express my appreciation for that. In order to do so, though, she divorced the soldiers from the American government, assuming that they were being fed misinformation. I somehow have a hard time believing Lewis would have much sympathy for someone venting hatred toward a country that she decided to remain a citizen of, especially when that person was not hesitant to invoke the privileges of that citizenship when she found need of it. It sounds something to the effect of ‘Mom and Dad I hate you. Give me more money for college.’ If you decide to remain in a society, family, community or country, you owe them loyalty. If you cannot stomach that requirement, then remove yourself from that group. Do not demand the group’s loyalty when you need it in invoking the privileges of membership, unless you are willing to return it when you are called upon.

Lewis, I think, is not the only one who would rebuke this sort of behavior. Jesus Christ himself directs us to give to Caesar what is Caesar’s. This is not just a monetary interaction. Paul commands us in Romans to treat the governing authorities with respect, for they have been placed there by God. Whatever we are, we are not Rome. We do not crucify insurgents. We are not massacring Christians. If Paul tells us to respect such a hideous regime as Rome, how can we justify such revulsion to this country by citizens who claim to abide by that commandment? Christ himself treated the governing authorities with respect, even as they prepared to unjustly kill Him. Pontius Pilate was answered honestly and respectfully. If Christ railed against any authorities, it was against the leaders of the Jews who He dearly loved, not the Romans whom He did not identify with. If both Paul and Christ command Christians to respect their political leaders in such a murderous political climate as the Roman persecutions, we have no reason to mock our own elected leaders. Stated simply, this is sin. The Scriptures do not command categorical agreement, certainly not. Throughout history, Christians have changed many a society for the better. But they changed societies that they loved, even as they spoke bold words. Dr. King respected the law, even in choosing to accept the consequences of breaking unjust ones.

There were many valiant apologetes amongst the early Christians, not the least of which being Polycarp, Clement and Tertullian. Under the reign of the Caesars, these heroes defended the faith to their Roman oppressors, often witnessing to the same men who were killing them. I find it astonishing that in almost all of the recorded apologetics, these courageous Christians found it important to mention that Christians were loyal Roman subjects. They confined their disputes with Roman law to only the parts that directly contradicted their faith, things such as ‘you must worship the Emperor,’ or ‘you cannot proclaim Christ openly.’ I cannot imagine them saying ‘as a Christian, I don’t think zoning laws in upper Samaria are fair.’ They had such respect for His Name that they only attached it to the things they were absolutely sure about. These men were not watering down their testimony, nor were they holding back, for they had no fear of man. The account of the Martydrom of Polycarp should silence that. Even when faced with the cruelty of Rome, these men still made the case quite correctly that the Christians of the day were good Roman citizens insofar as doing so did not contradict the laws of God. By their honor and their righteousness, the Christians denied the Roman accusation of sedition even a shred of legitimacy (a far cry from Liberation Theology.) Even in their tone, they proved their humility by speaking respectfully to those who showed them none. They answered slanderous accusations of cannibalism and sexual immorality with love, never umbrage. We live in a culture where people on both sides of the aisle seem to eagerly await any opportunity for offense. One side jumps all over anyone who says ‘holiday’ instead of ‘Christmas,’ while the other side just waits for someone to cross the P.C. tripwire by mentioning any taboo topic with unapproved words. Tertullian turns away wrath with gentle words, we generally don‘t. Polycarp demonstrates his servant’s heart in his respect for the secular authorities, with his respect for the Name of the Lord, and with his kind answers to slander. I wonder if we could say the same for American Christians of either political stripe. We could learn much from these heroes of the faith about humility.

We are commanded to respect our leaders. We sin in not doing so. The command of Romans 13 is a difficult one for a first century Christian to follow. We mock those brave Christians if we cannot follow this command in twenty-first century America, where it is infinitely easier to submit to the governing authorities. If they were willing to respect governing authorities that spent their time mostly trying to kill and persecute them, we disgrace them if we cannot respect our own elected leaders because we disagree over some policy preference. This does not mean that we have to agree, nor that we have to silence our opinions. But there is certainly no room for ‘America equals Satan’ or ‘I hate [any governing authority on either side of the aisle.]’ If you feel that strongly, then you should divest yourself of their authority over you by withdrawing from the social contract. There are other countries, and you have the privilege to leave this one (a privilege denied in many other countries over the last century.) In doing so, you would be freed of Paul’s command. If you choose not to, then you need to follow Paul’s command. Another privilege America accords her citizens is the right to divest their leaders and install new ones. So another alternative is to respect the existing leaders while working to replace them. If you are successful, presumably the Christians who did not agree with your choice of leader will respect him or her even as they try to replace them. And this is democracy.

Democracy places a unique challenge upon its people. They actually have to choose to lead themselves by electing representatives. The Scriptures hold leaders accountable for their actions, even in the physical realm. If we owned stock in a company, we would be responsible to God for how we used it. In a democracy, we own stock in our government. Will we not be held to account for our use of it? So disengagement is wrong. This is a blessing given to us. Every man is a king. Each of us plays a role in our own governance. This is a talent given to us. If we bury it, we will have to answer for it. So we must steward this blessing well. What does this look like? I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a political party. I do believe that there are certain issues where a Christian conscience will find a moral imperative. It is a mockery to God that we kill a quarter of our children before they are born. I think for most issues, though, it is a question of stewardship. Many policy questions look different if you’re standing in different places. In this, perhaps, there is a basis for voting differently on diverse interests. I do not honestly know. And this may be the point. I cannot say ‘Thus Saith the Lord’ on taxation policy, or on affirmative action, or on the Iraq war. I can only use faculties of prayer and reason that the Lord has blessed me with. And yours will likely be different from mine, as will your perspective. So perhaps we can learn to be comfortable with that.

We have a role in the governance of the City of Man. We should not confuse that with our role in the City of God, nor should we abdicate that governance. We must walk in that tension. Sometimes, though, there is interplay between the stories of the City of God and the City of Man. America is not Old Testament Israel. Remember though, neither was Darius’ Persia. Yet, Darius sent the Israelites back to Jerusalem to rebuild the walls. Even more importantly, the legacy that Daniel and Darius established in the courts of Persia came to fruition in the Magi, leaving those same courts to find the Messiah. With their gifts, Mary and Joseph were able to buy passage to Egypt and save Jesus’ life. Because of the faithfulness of these two rulers of Cities of Men, they were privileged to play a role in the City of God. To do so is not a entitlement, but an honor. Perhaps our country will be honored in this way as well.

There was a hope, a dream that in the movement of the City of God a better conception of the Cities of Man could be achieved. That if God made men with dignity, that perhaps they could use that dignity in governance. It is the City of God that reminds men of that dignity. The City of Man understands power, not dignity. And this is the tension of the American experiment. The experiment is based upon men, yet all experiments based on men have failed. Communism, Nazism, Robespierreism, all fallen. Men desire power above all else. Even a system that recognizes this fact can do little more than rear-guard holding action on its own. Such an experiment cannot be based solely upon the hearts of men and expect to stand. There needs to be something new in our hearts. America is of the Cities of Man. We cannot build the City of God with the tools of the City of Man, but no City of Man cannot last without the City of God. We are so prideful. All of us. There can be neither country-worship nor country-disgust. Both sides must discard divine license, and humble ourselves facedown before Him. This is not about Republican or Democrat, Liberal or Conservative. This is merely about survival. America, bless God.