While we are still awaiting the final results of this week’s election, one thing has become clear. The divisions we have experienced in the United States in recent years are deep and real. They will be with us for awhile. As Ronald Brownstein writes in The Atlantic, “The clearest message of this week’s complicated election results is that the trench is deepening between red and blue America.”
The challenges in our political society are not going to be overcome quickly or easily. Many are genuinely and rightly asking whether we have the resources to sustain our collective political life. Here, I want to ask a more focused question: what resources can we look to as Christians seeking to live the Jesus way here and now, in this contentious time?
Years ago I was involved in a research project on globalization. When one of our researchers asked a vice president of a major American multinational corporation how his company thought about selling their product in a global market, the vice president answered, “Oh, we’re not selling a product. We’re selling a way of life.”
A stark but honest admission. We are surrounded by forces that, either intentionally or unintentionally, shape our way of life. Within the U.S. context, Christians have been rightly concerned about the impact of forces like consumer capitalism as they shape the desires of Christians and thereby impacts Christians’ ways of living in the world. Most recently, we have become deeply aware of the shaping impact of our polarized and divided political reality.
As Christians, we are seeking to live a certain way of life, a way of life to which we believe God has called us. References to this way are woven throughout our Scriptures, from God’s call to Abraham (“For I have chosen him, so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just” Gen 18:19 ) to Proverbs (with its frequent admonitions to seek the way of wisdom, the way of the good, the path of the righteous), Jesus (“I am the way and the truth and the life”), and the earliest believers in Acts (called “followers of the Way”). Eugene Peterson calls this simply, the Jesus Way.
As we think about our contemporary political context, what does it mean to live the Jesus way in this complex, contentious, and divided moment?
To begin to wrestle with this question, we need to acknowledge at least two dynamics. First, in recent decades we have seen the increasing politicization of the U.S. In reality, U.S. culture is made up of a number of different institutions, but politics has come to take up more and space in our collective life. Among other things, this means it has become increasingly difficult to imagine our public life, as well as solutions to social and public issues, in non-political terms.
Second, alongside the politicization of U.S. society, we have seen a rise in a particular mode of political engagement shared by all political perspectives. The term “culture wars” speaks to this mode, marked as it is by a sense of embattlement, a call to fight for what is right, and a competition among factions, with the goal being to dominate rather than to persuade. James Davison Hunter has described this at length in his recent book, To Change the World, noting that our political culture is currently dominated by such Nietzschean sensibilities as the will to power and ressentiment. It has become, he writes, “far easier to force one’s will on others through legal and political means or to threaten to do so than it is to persuade them or negotiate compromise with them.”
This increased politicization combined with a mode of political engagement marked by a will to power are true across the board. In other words, generally speaking we have all become increasingly political and combative in our cultural engagement in the past few decades, regardless of our side or party. This is a widespread mode of engagement that has also shaped white evangelical Christians. That is to say, white evangelical Christians, broadly speaking, have not resisted this mode of engagement. They have not offered a distinctive witness. They have not, to use Paul’s words in Romans 12, resisted the pattern of this world when it comes to their political engagement.
Or, to put it even more strongly citing Hunter, “With the reduction of the public to the political and the subsequent politicization of so much of human experience, there is an accommodation to the spirit of the age that has made politics the dominant witness of the church to the world.”
Hunter is certainly not the only one pointing this out. More recently, evangelical insider Katlyn Scheiss has reflected on the degree to which white evangelical Christians have been formed by their political engagement and calls on us to pause, take stock, and seek formation into a different way. Political scientist Amy Black has been reminding us for years that, as she writes, “Politics and government are important, but the most important Christian calling is to love God and follow him.” She calls us to understand politics as a way to demonstrate love in action. Black reminds us that 1 Corinthians 13, the famous love chapter of the Bible, does not have a political caveat.
Let’s pause to read some of those words of Paul on love as we consider our collective, and perhaps even our personal, political witness today:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)
These words provide a beautiful picture of love in action, written to a church in conflict. How might they help orient us today, as we seek to live the Jesus way in our own divided settings?
Augustine pointedly suggests that we do not actually understand the Bible if we are not embodying what he calls the double love of God and neighbor that is attested to in the pages of the Bible: “So anyone who thinks that he has understood the divine scriptures or any part of them, but cannot by his understanding build up this double love of God and neighbor, has not yet succeeded in understanding them.”
We know that love of neighbor is an integral part of our calling as Christians. We have to go about loving our neighbors in ways that embody love as the Bible attests to it, in ways that 1 Corinthians 13 points to. Jesus told us that by their fruit you shall know them, and Paul draws on the same imagery to articulate the fruit of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
Let’s remember, though, that embodying the fruit of the Spirit is not something we can do on our own. As Christians, that is true all the time, but we need to recognize that this is even more so with all of the cultural and political forces pushing us towards polarization. These forces are like a current that will inevitably, perhaps at times ever so subtly, carry us along towards divisiveness unless we, with God’s help, seek a different way. And thanks be to God, He has given us the Spirit. By the Spirit’s power and grace, we can bear the fruit of the Spirit and live the Jesus Way, even in our political engagement.
To help us live the Jesus way in this polarized time, with God’s help, I want to offer a few suggestions.
Take the Long View
In a very real sense, followers of the Way have been grappling with the relationship between their faith and their political realities since the time of Jesus. “Our citizenship,” Paul writes, “is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil 3:20). At the same time, Paul calls us to “be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established” (Rom 13:1). Saint Augustine, writing three centuries later, famously drew on these biblical notions to remind Christians that we need to remember two cities: the heavenly city and the earthly city. The earthly cities of which we’re a part might seem more real and more shaping, but for Christians, our primary citizenship is in the heavenly city of which Christ is King. That ought to be the most shaping reality for us, no matter what is going on around us – even the fall of Rome.
It’s hard for us today to recognize how significant it was for Augustine and others of his day to live through the fall of the city of Rome, with all of its political and religious significance. The shock experienced, the questions raised, the instability introduced, the explanations offered, the divisions present…While by no means an exact parallel to our day, as those of who can in Christ take comfort from being surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, we ought to find it encouraging that Christians like Augustine have lived through political turmoil in their earthly cities and have been able to retain their hope in Christ the King.
Learn Each Other’s Stories (In All Their Complexity)
Lecrae reminds us in a recent essay that as humans we create narratives that provide a way of making sense of the world and of events that take place in this world. He is drawing, in part, on the important work of social psychologist Jonathan Haidt. Haidt has helped us understand why it’s hard for us to change our own minds and to change other people’s mind through his research. His research leads him to conclude that, “people gravitate toward a story that aligns with their current way of seeing the world. It’s our default setting.”
Right now, many of the cultural and political stories we are receiving and telling are overly simplistic. As Lecrae points out, these stories have very clear heroes and very obvious villains, but if you have a different perspective, those heroes and villains flip. He explores interpretations of events in Ferguson, Missouri in light of this hero-villain framework and points out, tellingly, just how different the renditions of that story become.
As Christians, we ought to be the most equipped to complexify these stories. We know that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, so this should make it impossible to tell a story in which a particular person or political figure (or a particular demographic, series of events, or political party) is either a clear villain or a straightforward hero. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn famously wrote, “The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either -- but right through every human heart -- and through all human hearts.”
For Christians, we understand that only Jesus Christ is the true hero. This, combined with the larger story of Scripture, ought to equip us to do the hard work of complexifying the simplistic stories that often mark this cultural moment. We are called to do the wrestling that enables us to see both the sinful realities and the signs of redemption and grace that come with acknowledging Jesus Christ as Lord, Savior, and King, the one who has reconciled all things (Colossians 1) and who continues the work of reconciliation as he makes all things news (Revelation 21).
To help us do this wrestling, we will need to take time. This involves slowing down to learn more about the stories behind the “characters” that are presented to us as either wholly right or wholly wrong within our current cultural scripts. It includes having the humility to listen and to learn from others and about others, rather than assuming we know. (103) It will also involve taking the time to widen our sources. As we often hear now, the sources we each regularly consult tend to tell and reinforce certain stories and interpretations. While it’s certainly okay to have sources you trust and regularly consult, being intentional about engaging with a wide range of sources can help with this work of complexifying the stories we are both receiving and telling. This might include moving beyond typical news sources, to read thoughtful novels and watch movies and documentaries that can help us enter into different people’s stories and backgrounds.
When We Disagree, Go Deeper
Just as we want to recognize that there are no simplistic stories with straightforward heroes and villains, we want to acknowledge that political and cultural issues are themselves complex. Christians have been disagreeing about important issues since before they were called Christians. Our New Testament is full of stories of the earliest followers of the Way wrestling and disagreeing. The same will be true of us today. Even if we hone in on just the last few decades in the U.S. context, we will come to see that the expectation that all Christians would belong to one political party or coalesce clearly around one political issue or set of issues is a fairly recent one. (And of course the political parties themselves, their positions, and who tends to support them, regionally and otherwise, have also shifted over time.)
Here we come back to the question of our posture: if we expect disagreement because these issues are complex, what is the appropriate posture for us to have in the midst of these disagreements? How can we continue to embody the way of Jesus even when we encounter disagreements? One answer lies in going deeper. Recognizing that we live in a time of deep difference, can we be intentional about going deep ourselves to try to understand what’s beneath the disagreements we are encountering?
The Colossian Way, an initiative of The Colossian Forum that is animated by the conviction that in Christ all things hold together so we don’t have to be afraid our differences, encourages us to ask two questions every time we encounter anger in someone with whom we disagree: what is the fear beneath the anger? And what is the love beneath the fear? In other words, what’s behind and beneath the anger if we drill down? What is positive that that person, or movement, loves and is trying to preserve? What do they think is at stake? What are they afraid of losing? What do they fear is changing?
I’d encourage us to go deep in our own self-reflection as well. When we feel the anger swelling in us, can we ask ourselves – what is beneath that anger? What is the fear fueling that anger? What is the love driving that fear?
And we ought to add into this mix that fear and anger are often used as political motivators in this cultural moment. Groups and figures on both sides regularly tap into fears and angers to mobilize people for engagement. When we witness this happening, can we, as Christians, ask God to help us place our fears into the larger context of the hope we have in Christ?
Keep Politics in Its Proper Place
Our hope does not lie in a particular president or political party. Our hope does not depend upon any certain outcome in an election. Our hope lies in Jesus Christ, and only in Christ can this hope be firm and secure as an anchor for the soul (Hebrews 6).
Idolatry has always come easy to us, hence the need for the first commandment. Today our idols can be more subtle than in other times and places, but any time we place our hope and trust in something other than God, we run the risk of turning that thing into a god. Politics has an important place within our collective life, but it needs to stay in its place. As I noted above, we have seen the politicization of American society. More and more our understanding of societal life together takes place through politics. Part of our Christian witness today can lie in offering a different way.
Politics is not the only or even the most important institution in our society. Nor, for Christians, ought it to be the main venue for our public engagement. As Hunter writes, “At best, the state’s role addressing in human problems is partial and limited. It is not nearly as influential as the expectations most people have of it.” Hunter notes that Christians have invested considerable energy, time, and money into the political arena in the last few decades, thinking that was the way to change the world. Tragically, that is not the main way to enact cultural change. Nor is Hunter convinced that cultural change ought to be our animating goal as Christians.
If we seek wisdom from Augustine as we think about our political engagement, we want to take our pilgrimage in this earthly city seriously. Augustine urged the Christians of his day to do this by seeking the welfare of the cities in which they resided, drawing on the words of Jeremiah; in so doing they would find a shared earthly peace. Even with this encouragement, he never wanted them to conflate the earthly city and its earthly peace with the city of God and its heavenly peace rooted in the Prince of Peace. He did not want politics to be the source of hope for redemption and salvation of this world’s problems, but pointed the Christians of his day to Christ for that hope.
Be Like Trees
In my years of reflecting on what the Jesus way looks like in complex cultural times, I have increasingly turned to our calling within Scripture to be like trees (Psalm 1). Deeply rooted in the living waters of Christ (John 4), knit together as fellow citizens of God’s Kingdom and members of God’s household (Ephesians 2), what if our witness to the world was that of trees which offer life-giving oxygen to the world, along with beauty, shade, fruit, protection, and places to play?
Trees offer these life-giving gifts to all around them, not only to their own kind. They are rooted in one location and make that particular place better by their very presence. And with deep roots, trees can develop wide branches that enable them to find places of overlap with other branches, even branches that come from different kinds of trees with their own deep roots.
This sounds like the Jesus Way – to be people who offer life to the world, rooted in Christ rather than fear or despair, attentive to our local places, discerning how we might offer life-giving oxygen, fruit, shade, and sustenance to the people and institutions around us, generously finding places of overlap rather than demarcating lines of division. By their fruit you shall know them. May our leaves contribute to the healing of the nations (Revelation 22). May we, by God’s grace bear the fruit of the Spirit in the world.
A Closing Prayer:
Lord, as we await the day of the City of God, give us wisdom to know how to live the Jesus way in this divided time. Give us the strength and patience to be like trees, with deep roots in you, sustained by the living waters of your Son, and bearing the fruit of your Spirit that can only come by the grace and power of your Spirit at work in us. Help us, help all of your people, to be known by the life we offer this world. Help us to be deeply attentive to the places that need your shalom and to be discerning about how you might use us to participate in your ongoing work of redemption, right where we are. Help us, Lord, to be like trees.
This resource is part of the series Kingdom Politics. Click Here to explore more resources from this series.
Kristen Deede Johnson is a Professor of Theology and Christian Formation at Western Theological Seminary in Holland, MI. She completed her PhD in Theology at the University of St. Andrews. She is the author of Theology, Political Theory, and Pluralism: Beyond Tolerance and Difference and co-author of The Justice Calling: Where Passion Meets Perseverance.
