Winter 2000
Volume 4 Number 4


contd.

The Gospel and politics

Hendrix: When we consider the Gospel and politics historically, we notice immediately that our period is very different from the Reformation. The Reformation was a public, political event. There was no separation of church and state in the sixteenth century, and it would never have occurred to pastors or to Reformers in the sixteenth century to be silent on social and political issues. They spoke out automatically about local politics, about what was going on in the next duchy or the next city or the next kingdom. I realize that pastors today are in a different situation, but regular commentary on social and political matters in Bible studies and in sermons is a legacy of the Reformation tradition. Clergy need not push a particular party line, but they can raise awareness about the public implications of the Gospel. To be unashamed of the Gospel in the political realm means to be unafraid to make applications of our faith in the public realm, even though we must not insist that our position is the absolute truth or that the Gospel can be reduced to a political stance. Romans 1:16 does not say the Gospel is an ethical teaching, a religious system, or a political position, but rather the power of God. That power went public, and the Reformation gives historical precedent for public involvement by Christians and by Christian pastors.

Johnson: We’ve had a tendency to relegate religion to a private sphere. This split between the public and the private has been most problematic for modern religion. Some reduce the Gospel to an anodyne that makes us feel good, and so then religion and religious worship become just others in a series of consumer products. The Roman Catholic theologian Johann Baptist Metz has complained that in modern religion God has no recognized public realm. Nevertheless, we know that the Gospel of Jesus Christ, who was tortured and executed between two political insurrectionists, always has a political thrust, calling powers and principalities into question, especially, I suspect, those powers in which we are most invested.

Black: I think in worship the church is constantly reminded, if the church is worshiping faithfully, that no aspect of ordinary existence remains untouched or hermetically sealed from God’s love and the power of the Gospel. God cannot be shut out or privatized. "The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof." We’ve tried to shrink God down into a manageable size that would allow us to live our lives in a compartmentalized way without bringing the pieces together. With respect to politics, we should not forget — and I don’t think that the authors of the New Testament did, because it was so real for them — that the cross was a political execution. It makes all the difference in the world that Jesus didn’t die by being run over by a chariot outside of Jerusalem, or after living to a ripe old age. He died as he lived. And how did he live? He lived as one who constantly reminded his heirs, as he still reminds us, that both the powerful and the powerless are deeply in need of a healing that refocuses our politics and our religion in alignment with God’s justice and mercy.

The Gospel and pluralism

Black: I sometimes wonder if pluralism looks especially daunting to us now because, truth be told, we are on the ragged edge of the dissolution of Christendom. When Christianity was born in the first century, it was a minority voice. It was a child’s whisper in the bubbling cauldron of cacophonous religious and philosophical voices of every stripe. If the numbers in mainline Christian denominations in North America continue to dwindle, in an odd way that could put us in an analogous situation to that of the early Christians. In that kind of minority situation, you make your claim for the truth that has seized you, with a sense of due modesty that comes from recognizing your own fragility and the limits of a particular expression. You bear witness to the Gospel through what you say, through how you act, fully expecting and, indeed, hoping that those from other religious perspectives will tell you how the world looks to them. Part of the Christian testimony is that we love and respect, listen to and care for, other persons — even if they do not share our beliefs.

Hendrix: On this point, the first-person pronoun in Romans 1:16 strikes me. I may be stuck with the universal claim of the Gospel, but I do not have to be put to shame by this claim because of the way in which I bring the Gospel to others. Rather, I can find ways to understand it and to articulate it for others that will affirm them instead of belittling them. I can invite response instead of silencing others with the Gospel’s claims. This articulation is my own, and it does not need to disrespect another person’s conscience or religion. As long as I speak in this way, my claims about the Gospel need neither shame me nor intimidate other people.

Johnson: We need to remember that the Gospel itself comes to us in many forms, in an open-ended way. We have this treasure in earthen vessels of differing, and sometimes even conflicting, configurations — the Gospel according to this evangelist or that evangelist, the Gospel construed within different theological frameworks. Unfortunately, instead of embracing these many forms, the church has a dark history of anxiety over the truth of its own truth claims, resulting in intolerance toward the truth claims of others. Too often theologians have been in the business of reducing cognitive dissonance and bending the Gospel to suit self-interested goals. Maybe we need to be a little less invested in advancing our own truth claims about the Gospel, and more invested in the transforming power of the Gospel itself. The Romans passage does not say that the Gospel is a "truth claim" for everyone who has faith, but that the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation. In shorthand form, the Gospel proclaims that the God of Israel has raised Jesus Christ from the dead. Or to put it another way, the God who is for humanity and with humanity in Jesus Christ calls human beings, by the Spirit’s power, to be for and with the "other." Hence all dialogue and interaction with those outside the church must not fail to embody the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Let me add, parenthetically, that the passage speaks of God’s power "to the Jew first, and also to the Greek." In other words, the Gospel is the engrafting of us Gentiles within the gracious covenant God first made with Israel. In a postmodern, post-Holocaust age, the first issue in inter-religious dialogue has to be a recognition of our sibling relationship with Israel, on the one hand, and then, on the other hand, our acknowledgment that the particular calling of God on our lives is for the sake of the other. Our election, in short, is not to a special status but to a special service.

Black: So maybe religious conversation that is consonant with the Gospel is a conversation that reflects the gift of gracious love that we have known through the Lord Jesus Christ. Articulation of the Gospel is an expression of the peculiar gift that has been given to Christians.

Johnson: I think we are saying much the same thing. As Christians, we are not in a position of standing above the other, but in humility we engage the other with that same grace with which God in Christ has engaged us.

Black: But the other trap that we can and often do fall into is a humility that deteriorates into functional cowardice. In that case the church, for whatever reasons, capitulates and in effect reconfigures the message of the Gospel into a bland un-Gospel that sounds just like what everybody else is saying. It’s the flip side of the arrogant posture by which Christianity in its darkest moments has promoted conversions at sword point.


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