Wednesday, July 4, 2018

Christians in Politics (!)


A Quaker Reflects on the Fourth of July

            On Independence Day, one’s mind is naturally drawn to political questions.  In a recent post (June, 2018) I argued that Christians ought to welcome “deep difference” in a society with many religious and cultural groups.  We should not be surprised to discover we live as moral minorities; we will find that many other people disagree with our beliefs on important matters.  There is no “moral majority” in our country; rather, there are many different groups whose beliefs differ.  Matthew Kaemignk says we ought to acknowledge these facts and think as pluralists.  We ought to support every group’s freedom to join in public debate.  Since Jesus is king, we are not.  Even if we think our policy positions are right; it is not our job to compel others to agree with us.  We may vigorously try to persuade others in open dialogue.
            I worry that in recent public discourse civil debate has greatly declined.  I wrote a book about this, The Virtue of Civility in the Practice of Politics, published in 2002.  For reasons rooted in philosophical history, I predicted dark days for civility in the United States.  Sadly, it seems my prediction is coming true.  Political campaigns in this country focus more and more on energizing “base” voters rather than trying to persuade the undecided.  Once in office, legislators rarely compromise on hot-button issues, fearing an attack from extremists within their own party.
            And it’s not just the politicians.  Many studies have demonstrated that Americans tend to listen to the voices—on TV, internet sites, newspapers, and radio stations—they already agree with.  They rehearse the slogans and arguments of their favorite talking heads, perhaps picking up choice points to deconstruct the arguments of the other side.  Increasingly, Americans simply do not listen to the other side.
            It’s not just them; it’s us.  I’m speaking as a Christian to other Christians.  I don’t listen very often to political views I disagree with.  And when I do listen, too often I am mentally formulating replies rather than trying to truly hear another person.
            I am not arguing that all views are equal.  I firmly oppose some political positions, and I am glad to give my reasons for those positions.  Nevertheless, I must practice civility toward everyone in the political sphere.  Let me give a personal example.
            In 2016, I quit the Republican Party, though I had been a member my whole adult life.  I thought Donald Trump was clearly unfit to be president, and my conscience revolted against membership in a party that would accept Trump as its standard-bearer.  I don’t need to rehearse all my reasons now; you can find my essay “Why I Quit the Republican Party” on this blog (storymeaning.blogspot.com) in the 2016 archives.  In the 18 months since he took office, Trump has been almost as bad a president as I expected.  Now: how should I treat Donald Trump?
            At first glance, this might seems a strange question, since I never meet Trump, don’t talk to him, and don’t even read his Twitter feed.  But I do talk about him, perhaps in a class or in everyday conversation.  Do I treat him civilly in the way I speak?  Someone might point out that on various occasions Mr. Trump has not spoken civilly or truthfully about other people.  I don’t think that justifies repaying him in kind.
            In his first letter to Timothy, the apostle Paul wrote: “I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone—for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.”  When we read these words, we need to remember historical context.  The authorities for whom Paul urged Christians to pray served the Roman Empire.  We’re not talking democracy or human rights here.  This is the empire that backed Herod the Great and employed Pontius Pilate to rule Judea.  When it comes to outright wickedness, our current political leaders don’t really measure up.  And yet Paul wanted Christians to pray for these people.
            So: do I pray for Donald Trump?  If I say I don’t understand how Christians could vote for him, I should also say I don’t understand how Christians can fail to pray for him.
            The truth is I don’t pray for the president as much as I should.  I don’t have to like his trade policies to ask God to draw him toward justice and righteousness.  I don’t have to endorse his statements (treating women as sex objects, for example) to ask God to bless his family.  I can pray that his foreign policies lead to peace (for example, in relation to North Korea) even if I worry that his words could lead to war.
            What I saying is not about President Trump.  I could illustrate my point with some other leader, e.g. Governor Brown.  Christians should practice civility toward all their political opponents.  The Bible plainly says we should pray for those in authority.
            On this July 4, in a season of much political discord, I resolve to do better.  I won’t be a perfect citizen, that’s sure.  But I can acknowledge the fact that I am a moral minority.  I can participate vigorously in public debates with the hope of inviting others to join me, but without compelling anyone to agree.  And I can pray for God to help persons in political authority.