4 Things Christians Should Do When Tragedies Occur Wes McAdams, Radically Christian Fighting Terrorism with Transcendence Gracy Olmstead, The American Conservative French, Syrian Christians Pray After Paris Attacks Erik Tryggestad, The Christian Chronicle The Rise of Religious Terrorism in France Carl Bialik, FiveThirtyEight What ISIS Wants Jon Foreman, The Huffington Post
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9 Former Prisons with Surprising Second Lives Mark Johnson, CNN Business Traveler VIDEO: 40 Fruits... From One Tree National Geographic on Sam Van Aken North Dakota: When Oil Booms Bust Mara Van Ells, The Atlantic Photographing Europe's Invisible Borders Maureen O'Hare, CNN Photos Reclaiming the American Dreamland Rod Dreher, The American Conservative A Tricycle, a Toddler, and an Atomic Bomb Thom Patterson, CNN Photos We are Sacrificing the Right to Walk Antonia Malchick, Aeon An America Without Churches Dominic Bouck, First Things Kirk Cameron: Fornication is Still Public Enemy No. 1 Greg Garrison, AL.com Preparing for Stage Two Exile Steve McAlpine, The Gospel Coalition Australia Rallying a Generation for Reform Ryan T. Anderson, The Boston Globe A Revolution in Conscience Matthew H. Young, First Things So Now What? Legal Issues We Now Face Bobby Ross, Jr., The Christian Chronicle Will Marriage Dissidents Be Treated as Bigots or Pro-Lifers? Ryan T. Anderson, The Federalist The Beauty of God's Plan for Marriage Evangelicals & Catholics Together, First Things Don't Bake: Maintain God's Standards Ben Giselbach, Plain Simple Faith Bake, But Donate to Biblical Marriage Andrew Walker, First Things I Would Bake, But I Wouldn't Make Someone Else Ross Douthat, The New York Times Irony & Intolerance in Indiana Mark Movsesian, First Things One Minority the Majority Won't Protect Stephanie Coontz, CNN Who Will Stand, and Who Will be Left Standing? Robert P. George, First Things Preach the Truth with Prayer and Love Wes McAdams, Radically Christian In the last several months, war has been back in the news. Just as it seemed that the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan were winding down, ISIS began its most rapid and extensive territorial expansion to-date. And unfortunately, the number of lives lost has also begun to climb: Iraqi troops, Syrian rebels, Japanese journalists, Jordanian fighter pilots, Christians and Yazidis, American aid workers, and even the Islamic State’s own Muslim brothers have all faced death with courage and honor. And as a Christian, a husband and father, and an Airman, these facts disturb me. But while their examples should call us to face and fight the evil of this world, our public forum has been mainly focused on whether or not we have the moral and legal authority to do so. Of course, different people use different words. Some remind us that “Christians” behaved the same way throughout the Crusades, others refuse to see such acts of terror as religiously-motivated, and still others say that Jesus would never have killed a man. Of course, there is some truth to each of these statements. Such views, however, are rooted in a single false premise: that violence is inherently evil, regardless of the circumstances in which it is used. Again, though, the premise is only half-true. As Solomon wrote long ago: there is, “A time to kill, And a time to heal; A time to break down, And a time to build up” (Ecc 3:3 NKJV). Each and every human life is created in the image of God and has inherent value from the moment of conception (Gen 1:26-27; Psa 139:13-18). So no matter what the circumstances—young or old, male or female, guilty or innocent—the loss of even a single human life is a tragedy to be mourned because all lives matter (Eze 33:10-11). It is perhaps surprising, then, that while the Author of life has declared to us these truths, he has at times commanded us to take a life in order to save the lives of others. So after Yahweh restores creation through the waters of the flood he commands Noah, “Whoever sheds man’s blood, By man his blood shall be shed; For in the image of God He made man. And as for you, be fruitful and multiply; Bring forth abundantly in the earth And multiply in it” (Gen 9:6-7). So even though Noah’s world had been destroyed, man had not, and so neither had sin; even this new start implied a future fall, including bloodshed. But while all bloodshed is regrettable in the eyes of God and his children, not all bloodshed brings blood on our hands. So right after God tells Moses, “You shall not murder” (Exo 20:13), he describes the differences between manslaughter and murder, then prescribes the death sentence as a remedy for the latter (Exo 21:12-25). In fact, God even warns us that should we fail to carry out the sentence that divine justice demands, we are asking for even more trouble: “Because the sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil” (Ecc 8:11). And what we see individually is true as well for nations: those who violate the holy and loving character of God will suffer punishment from heaven through the armies of man. For, “the Most High rules in the kingdom of men, Gives it to whomever He will, And sets over it the lowest of men,” “He changes the times and the seasons; He removes kings and raises up kings” (Dan 4:17; 2:21). And while sometimes it his people whom he uses to punish others for their sins (Gen 15:16; Deu 20:16-18), his people are often just as deserving of his wrath (Deu 28:15-68). No leader, no nation, no offender is outside the reach of the Lord of heaven and earth. Nor does the new covenant in Christ reverse these teachings; instead it corrects their abuses by pointing back to our shared humanity, and the defeat of bloodshed through the shedding of Christ’s own blood. First, Jesus teaches us that vengeance is not the same as justice: You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I tell you not to resist an evil person. But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. . . . You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you. (Mat 5:38-39, 43-44) Throughout Israel’s history, what God had commanded as a legal remedy for murder (“an eye for an eye,” Exo 21:23-25) had become a personal ethic of vengeance. So what the Lord had given to preserve life had instead been misinterpreted as the authority to take it in revenge. But Jesus tells us to leave the law in the courtroom and instead live by the mercy that the Law had built into it in the first place: “to love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev 19:18).
More importantly, however, is the victory of Christ against all worldly power and self-seeking through his sacrifice on the cross. The Jewish vision of the Messiah was of a conquering king who would raise up a new army of the sons of Israel and deliver them from the power of Rome. But only moments after the apostle Peter confesses Jesus as this very Messiah, Christ tells him something startling: Don’t tell anyone who I am, I “must go to Jerusalem, and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised the third day” (Mat 16:21; see 16:13-20). Jesus outsmarted Satan every step of the way. The devil thought that if he could kill the Messiah, Israel’s army would never come, the Jews would never be saved, the light would never shine among the Gentiles, and God’s plans would be defeated. And so, through the whips, spear, and cross of man, he murdered the Son of Man, fulfilled the ministry of Jesus on this earth, and sealed his own treacherous fate. Satan would learn the hard truth on Sunday: Jesus defeated death through death, and now lives (1Co 15). Armed force in the name of Jesus would have defeated the very purpose of Jesus’ ministry both now and then, as Jesus himself said on more than one occasion (John 18:3-11; 36). But do not be fooled: when Jesus comes to judge all mankind, there will be blood (2Th 1:6-9; Isa 63:3-6; Rev 15:18-20). And yet, no soldier either before or after the cross was commanded by the Lord or his messengers to cease his service. John the Baptist doesn’t command such when he instructs soldiers on the repentance that is to accompany their baptism. Instead he says, “Do not intimidate anyone or accuse falsely, and be content with your wages” (Luke 3:14). Nor does Jesus himself when he heals a Roman centurion’s daughter, marveling to the crowd, “I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel!” (Luke 7:9). And of Cornelius, Peter asks only, “Can anyone forbid water, that these should not be baptized who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” (Acts 10:47). God forbid that we refuse to forgive and receive the one whom the very Spirit of our Lord approves! It should no longer surprise us to learn, then, that it is the biblical doctrine of war that informs the principles of international law and the Law of Armed Conflict down to this very day: To fight only when justice and righteousness demands it, to serve under the authority of our God-given government, to make every effort to first secure justice in peace, to ensure our brothers and sisters in arms have a good probability of success, to use only as much force as is necessary, to prevent unnecessary harm, to differentiate between combatants and noncombatants, and to seek restitution and reconciliation both during and after the conflict (Deu 20:1-20). No person should desire war (Psa 68:30), but when war comes, every man and woman of character should stand against the forces of injustice, regardless of the direction from which they approach. Sometimes, this means resisting without force, and sometimes only force will give justice its due. In either case, our work is the same as our Father’s: to “Defend the poor and fatherless; Do justice to the afflicted and needy. Deliver the poor and needy; Free them from the hand of the wicked” (Psa 82:3-4). For when we do so, we do not bear the sword in vain (Rom 13:4). No two subjects cause greater consternation among people than religion and politics. For the Christian, however, civics is and should always be an essentially spiritual activity rooted in the words given by the Spirit of God (2Co 2:12-13; Rom 13:1-2; 1Pe 2:13). As Christians, then, we cannot forget that ultimately our citizenship is in heaven (Php 3:20). So how do we maintain our heavenly perspective? First, Pray In Faith. Paul writes to Timothy, “Therefore I exhort first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men, for kings and all who are in authority” (1Ti 2:1-2a NKJV). If we’re serious about the direction our world and nation are heading, we have to bring our concerns before the Lord of heaven and earth. “For wisdom and might are His. And He changes the times and the seasons; He removes kings and raises up kings; He gives wisdom to the wise And knowledge to those who have understanding” (Dan 2:20-21). We should therefore ask God for good and just leaders who will be a blessing to all (Pro 29:2). But we can’t politicize our praise. Don’t just pray for ‘your man;’ give thanks for all men. And recognize the awesome power you possess. A quiet prayer is louder than the largest rallies. And a faithful, heartfelt supplication on behalf of our neighbors and leaders is more effective than any human petition. As Christians, we possess an avenue of change open to no one else, and we must use it for God’s glory. For, “By the blessing of the upright the city is exalted, But it is overthrown by the mouth of the wicked” (Pro 11:11). Second, Practice Your Faith. Paul then gives the reason for such a prayer life: “That we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence” (1Ti 2:2b). It’s important to voice and vote your conscience, but more importantly, the Christian should live it out. Contrary to popular belief, civics should be peaceable, not partisan. Our focus, then, should be on character and solutions rather than credentials and parting shots. Our lives are the strongest testimony to the nations of man for the God of all men (1Pe 2:11-17). As Solomon writes, “Righteousness exalts a nation, But sin is a reproach to any people” (Pro 14:34). Not only is this simply the right way to live, it reminds us that the ultimate answer to the world’s problems is not a political one. Thus, when Moses says God “administers justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the stranger, giving him food and clothing,” it is not a political talking point, but a call to action (Deu 10:18). There is, of course, a pragmatic side to politics, but such pragmatism must be grounded in first principles. Upholding justice, caring for orphans, caring for the elderly, caring for immigrants and refugees, and caring for the homeless, hungry and naked, are not just political problems, they are moral problems that require moral solutions. Furthermore, we should Proclaim Our Faith. Paul continues, “For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1Ti 2:3-4). A Christian’s identity should be apparent to all because of their twofold desire to (1) please God and (2) save souls—and civics is no different. For many of us, though, we are primarily Americans, or Texans, or Republicans, oh yeah, and we go to church too. But one day none of that will matter: America will fall, Texas with be no more, Republicanism will be out of vogue—because there is only one kingdom that will endure forever (Dan 2:44; Mat 16:18). Christ is the only Savior, political or otherwise—the King of kings and Lord of lords (Rev 19:11-16). And “there is one God and one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus, who gave Himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time” (1Ti 2:5-6). We cannot reduce the gospel of Christ to a mere political platform without degrading its God-given power to save (Rom 1:16-17). Instead, we should proclaim it without shame: “for which I was appointed a preacher and an apostle—I am speaking the truth in Christ and not lying—a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth” (1Ti 2:7). As Christians, it is our responsibility to pray, practice and proclaim our faith in the truth of God’s word. This is what it means to be a Christian, and what it means to be human. We are created in God’s likeness and are thereby called to engage with and enjoy fellowship with him. So whether our world recognizes it or not, submission to our Creator King and his divine wisdom is at the heart of all we do, even in a seemingly unrelated subject like civics. For as the Psalmist declares, “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; Mercy and truth go before Your face” (Psa 89:14). And for the Christian, this is the ultimate political reality. If you decide to vote, make sure you’re voting with God, because if not, you’re voting against him. Similarly, Christianity defines the profit motive as a matter of vocation. In keeping with their basic sociologies, capitalists emphasize enlightened selfishness and socialists a revolutionary selflessness but neither accurately expresses the true state of human nature nor do they provide sufficient motivation for working hard to earn wages, support one’s family and make sacrifices for others. Again, this is something that can flow only from the belief in a Supreme Creator. Since God created each of us we have inherent value (Psa 139:13) and work toward a goal that will stand firm when this finite, physical world is remade in the restoration of all things (Mat 19:28; Acts 3:21). Because of this, Christians neither work to please themselves, nor those around them but rather “work heartily,” “with sincerity of heart, fearing the Lord . . . knowing that from the Lord you shall receive the inheritance as your reward” (Col 3:22-25 ESV; see Eph 6:5-8). Only a reward such as this can turn a thief into a worker (Eph 4:28), a freeloader into a contributor (2Th 3:10) and a father into a provider (1Ti 6:10). After all, if there is no God, one might as well “relax, eat, drink” and “be merry” (Luke 12:19). Furthermore, contentment is the goal of Christian economics, not wealth. To make this point quite clear, Paul wrote to Timothy that as soon as wealth becomes the goal one can no longer glorify God in what he does, saying that “those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction” (1Ti 6:9). Instead, our goal should be “godliness with contentment” (1Ti 6:6) knowing both “how to be brought low” and “how to abound” that in “any and every circumstance” we might reflect the character of Christ, who strengthens us (Php 4:12-13). Contentment is impossible, however, if we refuse to take the time to properly plan financially for the future (Luke 14:28-30), if we spend well outside of our means (Pro 22:7) and if we save nothing for the rainy days that are sure to come (Pro 21:20). Finally, then, as Christians we should take the initiative to ensure a brighter future for those around us through the outworking of charity. We do this by not unduly increasing the debts of others or ourselves (Pro 6:1-5), but by forgiving the debts of those who are debtors to us (Mat 6:12) and giving freely to those who have need. The early church did this often in times of great need: And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. . . . This is not socialism (after all, there were still private homes in which to meet); this is Christians seizing the opportunity to “do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith” (Gal 6:10).
Christian economics, then, is neither capitalism nor socialism. Instead, it transcends manmade theories through its reliance on Yahweh as our Creator and God. Upon this sure foundation he builds the walls of stewardship, vocation, contentment and charity, in which works we remain active so that on that Day we might find ourselves in his good favor. For, “Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes. Truly, I say to you, he will set him over all his possessions” (Luke 12:43-44). In our slow march to the midterm elections, we began with a recognition of certain biblical and traditional principles that govern our interaction with the world around us. But this sort of conservatism is more than a contemporary political philosophy, with roots that run much deeper and spread broader than our current place in time and space. Instead, it is a fundamentally ethical view of man shared by Lewis, Austen and Aristotle, and deplored by Nietzsche. We turn now, then, to the world of economics, beginning once again with the centrality of the Word and the primacy of the teachings of Christ. While we often envision ourselves living in an unimaginably vast and incredible universe, we can’t help but recognize the finiteness of our own existence. As our desire for satisfaction and pleasure presses on, we find ourselves at every turn limited by time, space and a sundry of other seeming “inconveniences” in our material world. It seems that no matter what is done, each of these resources remains limited and in fact, scarce. While the language of economics enables us to discuss how this “world of scarcity” (Welch & Welch 2) operates, only our Creator can explain why it operates in this way, why we desire the timeless and infinite and how we reconcile what is with what should be. Recognizing this point, many economists over the years have attempted to produce a uniquely Christian economic outlook by overlaying the teachings of Christ with whatever economic theory is respectable at the time. Christian economics, however, is not merely a discussion of the alleged morality of socialism or the superior reality of capitalism, it is a study that is itself rooted in another morality and another reality that is wholly different from anything that man could have invented for himself. First, then, Christians base their economics on the fact that God is the Creator and Owner of all things. Property is one of the most important subjects within the field of economics. A person’s view toward property often serves as the cornerstone of their entire economic outlook. Two quite different views of property exist among economists. The first, viewed as sacrosanct by capitalists, is the theory of private property, in which businesses and other nongovernmental organizations maintain “the right to own resources, goods, and services [the so-called factors of production], and to use them as they choose” (Welch & Welch 38). Socialism on the other hand maintains that “the factors of production are collectively owned” by “governments and [other] groups of citizens” in order to “equalize the distribution of income” (Welch & Welch 45). Faith demands, however, that Christians view the world as having been “created by the word of God, so that what is seen has not been made out of things that are visible” (Heb 11:3 ESV). God’s creation forever declares his perpetual supremacy over the material world. Speaking to this very point the Psalmist records that, “The earth is the LORD’s, and the fulness thereof, the world, and those who dwell therein” (Psa 24:1). For this reason, no man or men are in the position to do “as they choose” with what they have been given from above; instead it is God’s providence that works as the “invisible hand” (to borrow a term from Adam Smith) that regulates all things to the end which he intends. After all, “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps” (Pro 16:9). Secondly, Christian economics views labor as a matter of stewardship. While capitalists and socialists are often either strict individualists or collectivists, respectively, Christians should recognize that it is individuals, various groups and God working together that fully accomplishes his will. From the very beginning man has been granted a trust for which he alone was responsible (Gen 2:15). Though this trust has adapted over time, we continue to serve one another individually as “good stewards of God’s varied grace” with “the strength that God supplies” (1Pe 4:7-11). This responsibility is carried over to the church as well, in which an overseer is called “God’s steward” (Tit 1:7) and minsters speak as “stewards of the mysteries of God” (1Co 4:1-2). The biblical home is regarded as a place of industry, honor and charity (Pro 31). Government, too, is charged with maintaining an economic system that praises “good conduct” and strikes fear in those who do evil (the true biblical meaning of justice), a principle that should be considered when developing a tax system (Rom 13:1-7). The same is true in business. Owners and managers should treat their employees “justly and fairly,” knowing that they too are in the employment of Another (Col 4:1; see too Eph 6:9). And customers should expect and enjoy a fair deal in market, “A false balance is an abomination to the LORD, but a just weight is his delight” (Pro 11:1; see 16:11; 20:10, 23). Works Cited
In our discussion of civics, we began with a recognition of certain biblical principles (justice, honor, righteousness) that are essential to a truly Christian interaction with the world around us. And though these principles have taken a variety of forms throughout the ages, in our current cultural climate they are often labeled as conservative or traditional. But this sort of conservatism is more than a contemporary political philosophy, its roots go much deeper (religious, moral and cultural) and extend back to the very beginnings of human society. The question, then, becomes how to convey these principles in the midst of a post-modern, multi-cultural world that is either outside of the West, or has rejected what the West has to offer. After the end of the Cold War and the rising tension between “the West and the Rest,” political scientists have borrowed from anthropologists the concept of domains for use in comparative studies. Our purpose here will be to discuss three such domains (identity, epistemology and ethics) pointing to the nearly universal acceptance of humanity’s social nature, common sense, and the Golden Rule. Discussions surrounding the relationship of the individual to the community drove much of the psychological, ethical and political work over the past 150 years. Much of this discussion revolved around thinkers such as Hegel, Marx and Freud, all of whom held to a view of human nature that closely associated the individual and the community. Unfortunately, the discussion often took a political turn, resulting in a polemical debate on our current political situation, with little regard to classic thought on fundamental issues. Capitalism was thus pitted against communism, Christianity against materialism, and morality against freedom. Though on these particular issues I tend to side with the Right, conservatives have lost sight of the bigger picture and the first universal principle of mankind: man was created for community, and community for man. The principle is as old as human history itself. Moses records God’s thoughts in Genesis that, “it is not good for the man to be alone” (2:18 ESV). Yahweh’s solution, then, is to create a woman as the man’s perfect complement, and then commands them, “Be fruitful and multiply” (1:28). Human identity and individuality is therefore fulfilled in community. And as Erikson later reinforces in his Childhood and Society, this community begins from the moment of conception. In the womb you are a child and possibly a sibling; you did not choose to be alive, much less connected to anyone else and yet, this is who you are. The Apostle Paul further reinforces this, reminding us that “woman is not independent of man nor man of woman” (1Co 11:11), since the first woman was created from the first man and every man since was born of a woman. So, contra Rousseau and (paradoxically) Marx, there is no such thing as an independent man in the “state of nature.” Instead, we find that when we return to that pristine state, we find something quite different: a family. As Donne well knew, “No man is an island.” Human community, however, extends beyond immediate relations. As Aristotle is famously quoted, man is by nature “a political animal” (Nicomachean Ethics 1097b and Politics 1253a) meaning that we were designed for larger human community, a polis. Later thinkers expanded Aristotle’s meaning to “a social being,” but it is important to note what the Greeks viewed as the ideal community. For them, it was a city small enough for each citizen to know the others well, but large enough to provide for its own necessities, resulting in numbers no more than about 50,000. This would at first seem to be contrary to normal experience, since many civilizations continue to this day in much smaller villages and homesteads. As Aristotle would also point out, however, what is “natural” about the polis was not that it was found everywhere, but that only in such a place would man develop his “perfected nature,” through a combination of natural moral endowment, habitual practice among one’s fellow citizens and deep reflection and engagement on the range of human endeavors (art, civics, history, literature, science, etc.). Neither isolated communities nor big cities provide the appropriate blend of human experience to lead complete lives. This first universal principle leads directly to a second: a holistic view of truth and education, known by most as common sense. Just as man is by nature a communal creature, truth is by nature best fleshed out by communities in conversation. Though several approaches to truth have been proposed through the course of human history, they often share common assumptions that we can thereby use to develop a less local and more universal view of truth. The first such assumption is that there is an objective reality that exists outside of the human mind. Many, of course, have denied this, but the vast consensus of human history (with some notable exceptions) would agree. More universal agreement is found for the second assumption: our ability to understand this reality is limited and subjective, both individually and collectively. With these two assumptions in mind, we can begin to develop a more reasonable view of truth. Consider how these two principles operate within a single person. First, by his individual reason and experience a person can come to know certain things to be true: his own existence, his wants and desires (compare Descartes). And yet, without any interaction with another, this man’s knowledge is greatly limited and, in truth, he cannot even communicate what he knows. Secondly, then, reason and experience, to have their full effect must take place in a community, amongst others who are thinking and living out these same events, and discussing them by use of language. Empiricism, then, can never be our ultimate view of things. As both Burke and Chesterton point out, individual experience and reason point to their communal counterparts: history and tradition. These, however, are never final either. Instead they develop organically through the ages, improving their understanding of the human condition via a continual conversation. So as a variety of thinkers have pointed out—from Vincent of Lerins to Thomas Kuhn—the absolute behind the relative is discovered, communicated and more fully developed via a community in perpetual conversation. This is the meaning of Cicero’s famous phrase, the sensus communus, not a common sense that we all know what we each know, but that what can be known by each is accessible to all and conveyed by way of experience and reason, history and tradition. Such a view of the truth is instrumental in understanding a universal approach to ethics, and our third universal principle—the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Though several other principles may be found across civilizations, no other has received such widespread acceptance (and criticism). In the context of our discussion here, the rationale proceeds as follows: (1) If humans are essentially communal beings, and (2) our physical and psychological existence is fulfilled in community, then (3) our moral lives too must be oriented to both the individual and the community. Consider, for example, the very terms of our discussion. As Aristotle points out (Nicomachean Ethics 1103a), the word ethics is rooted in the word ethos, which is used in both individual and collective senses to refer to habit or custom. Morality is equally communal in definition, being based on the Latin mores, and is roughly equivalent to the Greek. And the same is true for our English norms, into which we are raised and that determine our natural or normal development as humans. As Kant discovered, then (and Smith would agree), the single categorical imperative upon which a truly philosophical life may be based is one that blends individual value and responsibility to others, and such was well established before the rise of the West. In Ancient Judaism, loving one’s neighbor was integrally connected to one’s personal acceptance of the redemption Yahweh extended to Israel in the Exodus. In Confucianism the rule was a principle by which a person would avoid unnecessary animosity and upheaval and earn you the respect of those around you. And in Christianity, the principle was provided even greater impetus by the example of Christ on the cross, thus modifying the principle accordingly: “that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (John 13:34). The variety of human thought and expression on these subjects is simply startling, but what is even more significant is the wide degree of unanimity on basic principles. Rather than leading us to a completely futile or relativistic search for meaning, then, identifying commonalities across cultures leads us to better understand who we are (anthropology), how we relate one another (ethics and politics), and how to communicate timeless truth in a post-modern age. Every generation or so, the theme of American exceptionalism becomes a hot topic on both sides of the aisle. Many thinkers and public figures (conservatives and liberals alike) seek to distinguish “the American way” from the “Old World,” usually implying the superiority of the modern world (though occasionally reversed). The roots of America’s republican form of government, though, are deeper than the eighteenth century, bearing strong resemblance to the Greek, Roman and English forms that preceded it. Several Greek thinkers developed ways of describing and thinking about government, Socrates and Plato among them. Aristotle’s structural approach is perhaps most helpful, though. He saw three essential forms of government, which could be either good or bad: rule by the one, the few or the many. In his Politics, Aristotle outlines both the strengths and weaknesses of each approach in maintaining eunomia (good order or laws). Consolidated rule has great energy and effectiveness; rule by the few emphasizes virtue and tradition; and rule by the many allows for greater civic virtue and equality. Each, however, can be corrupted when the interests of the ruler(s) outweigh the interests of the ruled: monarchies become tyrannies, aristocracies become oligarchies, and polities become democracies. Aristotle, however, was never fully convinced of the ultimate superiority of any of these forms (thought he leaned toward polities), instead emphasizing that the character of the rulers and the people was the most important characteristic of human government. The Romans, however, took this Aristotelian framework and employed it to develop a mixed government that would both (1) mitigate the risks of each of these forms, and (2) allow the government to develop from the polis (town, community) to the res publica (republic or commonwealth). The Roman Republic thus combined what they viewed as the best of all three forms: Consuls (two of them) and other executives, the Senate and the Assemblies, all determined by class and election. It was this Republic that was praised by Cicero and Cato, and supported by the concept of public virtue. This form served them well for two centuries before being transformed by the reigns of Julius Caesar and his nephew, Octavian. The Republican constitution allowed for the appointment of a dictator during times of crisis, but first Caesar and later Octavian used this position to consolidate the governance of independent executives under their authority, resulting in the ultimate crowning of Octavian as Augustus and Imperator. Classical republicans, with Cato at their head opposed monarchical overreach as violations of the ancient order of things and called Rome back to her republican roots. And after the fall of the Western Empire, Europe (due to both necessity and principle) largely adopted the view of these republicans, returning to a local or regional level of government with a basically mixed form. And yet good order was nowhere to be found. The rising influence of the Papacy had a stabilizing effect on the continent throughout the Middle Ages, but vicious political battles were often fought on the local level. Because of this, by the Renaissance Rome (as well as the rest of Italy) began to see some of the advantages of the Imperial model. Dante and Machiavelli were among this group. Both had sympathies with various local factions of their day, but also saw the need for a powerful central executive who could create the conditions for internal and external peace, by force if necessary. The unity and stability of Italy seemed to demand it. The effects of these streams of thought were seen in Great Britain as well. In both England and Scotland, kings (the Stuarts) and parliaments (Cromwell and the Long Parliament) sought to establish absolute rule, only to be reminded of their responsibilities to abide by and uphold the common law. In spite of these challenges and because of them, England maintained a strong but balanced model of king, Lords (including religious and legal) and Commons, united under a constitution never written but stable nonetheless. It is this organically original and developing constitution that both British (Locke, Smith, Burke) and French (Montesquieu, Rousseau, Voltaire) thinkers could refer to as a “social contract.” The question then becomes whether America’s Founders sought a clean break with the past or something more complex. A brief look at the colonial and state constitutions under both the Crown and the Confederation militate against a radical break. Thus while Montesquieu was urging the French to better “divide their powers” and Locke was writing on the “social contract,” Americans were living out what had by then become common sense: a mixed government of legislative, executive and judicial powers, responsible to the people. Our federal Constitution, then, is great, precisely because it applies in a new context the lessons learned from centuries of political thought and practice. As M.N.S. Sellers points out in his work, American Republicanism, the greatest shift in early American thought was not a rejection of the English form of government as much as an acceptance of Greco-Roman terms as more expedient for America’s unique situation. We had no king, but we do have a federal presidency (based on German feudalism); we had no landed Lords, but we do have Senators of character and wisdom; and we had no shared political structure across state lines, but we do have a federal system of representation. America is indeed an exceptional country, in that we have more consistently and overtly applied the wisdom of the ages to our form of government. And yet, the materials of our Constitution are not our own. Instead, we borrowed from the Greeks, the Romans, the English and even the Germans, producing a form of government most conducive to the “Life, Liberty and Pursuit of Happiness” sought by our Founders. As midterm elections approach this November, we will occasionally take a break from our series in order to address issues of public life that are of concern to the Christian. This month we will begin by outlining the biblical principles for civics. The post below was written originally in 2008 and later run in the Christian magazine Reflections. It is safe to say that no two subjects cause greater consternation among humans than religion and politics. Instead of seeking to understand the reasons for this, though, many have gone to the opposite extreme in their call for a “separation of church and state.” Others have committed just as serious a fallacy by justifying their modern political aspirations by a misguided and inaccurate appeal to history. For the Christian, however, civics is and should always be an essentially spiritual activity rooted in the words given by the Spirit of God Himself (2Co 2:12-13). Though the word “justice” is often misunderstood in our society, biblical civics remains committed to the maintenance of justice. Biblical justice is both positive and negative in its response to human behavior. It is defined by implication as “the punishment of evildoers” and “the praise of those who do right” (1Pe 2:13-14, NASB). Justice therefore stands against perjury (cf. Exo 23:1,7), popular pressure (v. 2), bribery (v. 8), and prejudice toward the rich (v. 3), the poor (v. 6) and immigrants (v. 9) and stands on the side of truth, the rule of law and equality before the law (cf. Deu 16:19-20). Because of this fidelity to law, Christians are “to be in subjection to the governing authorities” (Rom 13:1; cf. 1Pe 2:13) rather than acting in whatever manner they believe to be in their best interests. Law, however, is no guarantee that humans will treat each other with the respect they deserve as fellow image-bearers. Biblical civics is therefore conducted in a spirit of honor. While this certainly applies directly to our payment of customs and other taxes (Mat 22:15-22; Mar 12:13-17; Luk 20:19-26; Rom 13:6-7) it is equally important concerning the tone with which we approach our civic discussions. The Christian should therefore give “honor to whom honor” is due (Rom 13:6) regardless of whether or not that person is our enemy, our brother or our “king” himself (1Pe 2:17)! Civics is simply not biblical if it is itself without civility. At its heart, though, biblical civics is always exemplified in a life of righteousness. The Christian cannot forget that ultimately his citizenship is in heaven (Php 3:20). This “dual citizenship” has both its rights and its responsibilities. We honor our civic leaders and our God by approaching Him in prayer on their behalf (1Ti 2:1-2; Pro 11:11); by leading a tranquil, quiet, reverent and dignified life (1Ti 2:2; Pro 14:34); and by setting our priorities based on the purpose God Himself has in mind (1Ti 2:3-7). This same emphasis on right conduct is true for our leaders as well, especially when we have the opportunity to select them. For, “When the righteous increase, the people rejoice, But when a wicked man rules, people groan” (Pro 29:2). Civil authority is not rooted in the divine right of kings or in modern concepts of popular sovereignty but in the authority of God Himself (Rom 13:1-2; 1Pe 2:13). Though other views have been set forth concerning political thought and practice, such views are unable to explain the natural order of creation and the character of the God on whom it is based. For, “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; Lovingkindness and truth go before You” (Psa 89:14). And for the Christian, this is the ultimate political reality. |
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