Monday, November 5, 2018

Election Eve, 2018


Dual Citizenship

I am a Christian and an American.  As a Christian I pray for the Kingdom of God to come and I owe allegiance to Jesus, the King.  At the same time, as a citizen of the United States I desire good things for my country and I am obligated to fulfill certain duties to the state (obeying laws, paying taxes, etc.).  As Augustine wrote long ago, a Christian lives simultaneously in two “cities”: the City of God and the City of Man.
Election season in America compels me to think about my dual citizenship.  Clearly, the allegiance I owe to Jesus is more basic and overrides the claims placed on me by the state.  If my country demanded that I deny my faith or act in ways contrary to conscience, I would have to disobey.  Civil disobedience must be part of the Christian’s public repertoire when duties conflict.  In this essay, though, I want to focus on another aspect of dual citizenship.
I’ve been discouraged by the 2018 election.  I don’t mean the outcome of the election.  I’m typing these words on November 5, before election day, so I don’t know which candidates won or lost, nor whether any of the ballot measures were approved.  My discouragement arises from the way we Americans have conducted the campaign.  Campaign spending is way up, but the quality of the campaign is way down.  Over and over I see attack ads, telling me how wrongheaded, deceptive, self-interested, foolish or just plain evil some candidate or measure is.  There is very little attempt to persuade undecided voters by recounting the virtues of a candidate or policy.  Instead, we are pushed to vote our fears.  The pundits describe this as “appealing to the base”—that is, the campaign seeks to increase turnout among voters who already agree with the campaign.
Such campaigning is also “base” in another sense.  Rather than appeal to reason, or hope, or compassion—the “better angels” of our nature invoked by Abraham Lincoln—campaigns of fear and resentment try to win votes by demonizing the opposition.  Such campaigning demoralizes us—literally; it moves us from virtue toward vice.
I’m also discouraged by the extent to which Christians join in the fray.  I understand how it happens.  You think, as a Christian, that you ought to side with righteousness.  You decide that righteousness requires that you favor some public policy (to restrict abortions, or reform immigration laws, reduce mass incarceration, fight poverty, protect property, and so on—the list can be extended indefinitely).  You let yourself forget there are Christian brothers and sisters who, precisely because they want to side with righteousness, oppose the very policy you think is necessary.  Having forgotten the brothers and sisters on the other side, you then neglect the humanity of the other side.  The political opponent becomes the enemy, an enemy who must be defeated at all costs.  And so—in order to win lower taxes or more just immigration laws or whatever—you say and do whatever it takes to win.
Listen: your political opponent is a human being beloved by Jesus.  It is always more important that we love people than that we win.
Followers of Jesus must treat their political opponents well.  This is a requirement of discipleship.  You may think the other side is wrong.  You are convinced that their policies will lead to disaster.  You suspect they are campaigning in bad faith, that they actually intend to replace free government with some kind of religious or secular empire.  Even if you are right, even if your opponents are as misguided or evil, that does not free you from your duty to follow Jesus.
Jesus commands us, no mere suggestion, that we love our enemies.  This is not fantasy talk or advice for saintly hermits; it is his straightforward requirement for disciples.
Notice I am not defending pacifism, at least not now.  I’m talking about the way we conduct political campaigns, the way we treat our fellow citizens.  Even Christians who believe in just wars must agree that Jesus calls us to civility in politics.
In The Virtue of Civility in the Practice of Politics (2002) I predicted that our increasingly post-modern age would move away from civility.  Sadly, my prediction seems to be coming true.  As our culture discovers that the god of the modern age (rational autonomy) is an empty idol, people discover they have no reason to treasure political opponents.  More and more, the political opponent is seen purely as impediment, something to be defeated.
Christians should not think like that.  No matter how benighted or selfish “they” seem to be, we know that Jesus loves them.  Further, they know things we don’t know.  We can learn from them.  We ought to see political opponents as God’s gift, a resource for better government.