In response to lawsuits brought
by a bunch of Baptist and non-denominational congregations in Texas, as well as
the National Religious Broadcasters, the IRS has shifted their reading of the
Johnson Amendment, which bars non-profits from political campaigning. The IRS will
no longer apply that to political speech during religious services. Now the IRS
will understand pastors endorsing politicians from the pulpit as, “Nothing more
than a family discussion concerning candidates.”
While a small number of
Americans are rejoicing over this, 76% of Americans, 70% of Christians by the
way, do not believe clergy should endorse candidates from the pulpit. In fact,
a perception that Churches are the praying arm of partisan causes is one of the
reasons my generation and those younger than me won’t darken the doors of a
church. We’re dying not because we don’t have enough political and civic power,
but because we keep grabbing at it and it isn’t a good look and it isn’t what
God has called us to do. Younger folks might like our Jesus, but they are a
little worried we’re using him as a mascot for politics that they abhor.
An
Endorsement
In light of my newfound ability
to endorse candidates from the pulpit, I endorse Fredrick
Muhlenberg for any and all political positions in our government. Yes,
Fredrick Muhlenberg, the son of Henry Melchior Muhlenberg, founder of American
Lutheranism. Yes, Fredrick Muhlenberg, the first Speaker of the House! Vote Muhlenberg,
why not!
Two
Kingdoms (I
write this section having reflected on this article)
In all seriousness, there is a reason
I won’t ever endorse someone from the pulpit, even my amazing cousin Harley who
has held and ran for elected offices in Minnesota. I won’t do this because it
goes against my conscience and the teachings of this Church.
You see we Lutherans are people
of paradox and tension. We believe scripture works on us as both Law and Gospel;
we believe humans are simultaneously justified and sinners; we believe that God’s
kingdom is both already here and not yet here.
And most relevant today, we also believe that God is
ambidextrous—can use both hands—working through both civil authorities and the
church, and that Christian actions flow from both grace and vocation.
The Lutheran affirmation that God is ambidextrous, more
conventionally called “Two Kingdoms Theory,” or “Two Kingdoms Doctrine” sometimes
is cited as a historical convenience; the religious folk, the Roman Catholic
Church of Luther’s time, was trying to hunt down and kill Luther, so he turned
to secular authorities for help… and therefore we embrace a healthy wall of separation
between church and state, simply as an ongoing thank you to “Luther’s Princes.”
No dice there! Two Kingdoms Theory isn’t an invention
of Luther. That said, Luther’s situation is informative for our present
question about eradicating the dividing wall between partisanship and the
pulpit. Think about it, a church using secular means to enforce doctrine, yikes!
The State did not have a monopoly on violence in the medieval era, and I think
most of us Moderns and Post-Moderns see that as a bad thing. We wouldn’t want to
give any Denomination the go ahead to hunt heretics, even if they do so by
means of a political party.
Two Kingdoms theory, however, is not a new thing. For
the Apostle Paul there are two kingdoms, the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of
this World; they are filled with children of Adam and children of Christ. The Christian
has an obligation to no one, yet adopts a great many obligations of her society
for the sake of proclaiming the Gospel. The Kingdom is already here, and has
not yet come—and until it does the whole creation yearns for the consummation of
the righting of the whole world. There are flickers of it, but all has not been
reborn. As such, Christians find ourselves in the ambiguous place of being in a
culture but not of it, a good citizen, but citizenship is not their highest
good, the wild tug of war between the start of Romans 12 and the start of Romans
13. “Be transformed and renewed” and at the same time “place yourself under the
authority of the government.”
One of the most famous interpreters of Paul was Augustine.
His City of God/City of Man framing is a grand untangling of being a Citizen of
the Roman Empire and being part of the Body of Christ. If Rome could be sacked,
does that mean heaven is in danger of the same? If there is no distinction
between the two yes, otherwise no.
It was from these wellsprings that Luther says, “God
uses two hands!” Just as scripture acts as Law and Gospel, God does the same through
Church and State. God rules through civil authorities in a Law-like way, using
them to condemn and restrain evil via a wide variety of secular offices.
And at the same time, God rules through the Church in a Gospel-like way,
proclaiming God’s unending love through the offices of Word, Sacrament, and
Service.
Now, just like the distinction between Law and Gospel,
a separation between these things needs to occur. After all, when Gospel tries
to be Law, it ceases to be Gospel, and when Law tries to be Gospel, it ceases
to be Law. So too, when the Church tries to be the State, it ceases to proclaim
the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and when the State tries to be the Church, it spews
out a muddle that neither loves nor protects, or as Luther writes:
“To
try to rule a country, or the world, by the Gospel would be like putting
wolves, lions, eagles, and sheep all together in the fold and saying to them,
‘Now graze, and live a godly and peaceful life together. The door is open, and
there is pasture enough, and no watchdog you need fear.’ The sheep would keep
the peace, sure enough, but they would not live long.”
Instead of trying to create a
Churchy State or a Statey Church, we Lutherans offer a different course. Harkening
back to Paul, Luther affirms in his pamphlet On Christian Freedom “we
are slaves to none, yet servants of all.” We are saved by grace, which then
moves us to works of love for our neighbors. We live out the Gospel through a
myriad of vocations—callings—our Roles, Relationships, and Responsibilities ought
to sing forth, “This one is baptized!” This one is inhabiting an office for the
sake of the neighbor. We Lutherans fulfill roles in the secular world, knowing
that doing so is a holy calling. Luther even goes so far (to my ears too far)
as to say (I’m paraphrasing from memory), “Does no one want to be a hangman in
your town? Perhaps it is your Christian calling to fulfill that role, so that good
order is maintained and evil is eschewed.”
Conclusion
In a world where we are all simultaneously
saint and sinner, and where the Kingdom is here and not yet, claiming too much
for ourselves and our particular ideologies, baptizing partisanship, or
claiming prophetic mandates for politicians because the IRS won’t smack you on
your nose for it, will have consequences we can only imagine.
Perhaps, dear preachers, superPACs will pump money into your
church, and it will cause you to claim more than you are sure of, and when your
candidate doesn’t come through, it slaughters the souls of your congregants, or
at least cause them not to trust you as a faithful preacher of the Gospel.
Perhaps congregations do get to be power players, accrue enough political
power that they can point the police after people who don’t fit into the Mosaic
laws: Shrimpeaters, people with mold in their homes, or divorcees. Perhaps a
political party will get their hooks into your congregation so tightly that there
will be no distinction between a political rally and a worship service.
All that to say, God has two hands, so let’s not try to tie His
pinkies together, no good will come from that. There is enough holiness in living
out our vocations for our neighbors, let’s not add to that. Such bald politicking
turns people away from the Church. Don’t ride the tiger, you are just a little
treat.
