After reading an article I wrote (Palm Sunday and Politics), a friend of mine told me he thought I espoused a sort of dualistic view of Christian life. As if Christ came only to preach a spiritual transformation as something entirely separate from physical life.
Upon a rereading of the article, I can see how one might draw that conclusion. That is not, however, what I meant to communicate. Indeed, I view life as holistic, with all elements – spiritual, emotional, mental, physical – inextricably intertwined. I view the Christian life as wholly transformative, of the spiritual life as well as the others listed above. I do not see a dichotomy between the spiritual and physical life as far as my Christianity is concerned.
That said, there was a dualism expressed in the post. It was not a dichotomy between the spiritual and physical life, but a dichotomy between peace and force – and by force I am referring to the initiation of physical violence, or the threat of it.
The things I believe as a Christian affect every aspect of my life. My goals in life spring from my theistic view of the world and the resulting actions that view brings. Things like caring for those in need, learning humility, showing love and offering freedom to others – these are goals because of my acceptance of the Kingdom of God that Jesus preached.
These beliefs and duties are physical as much as anything else. What they are not is violent.
To attempt to achieve these goals by initiating force against others is antithetical to the ends themselves. Though physical force may be justified in some instances (such as self-defense, though Christ and many others refrained even from this and chose martyrdom), I do not see any way in which the initiation of violence can be seen as a moral way to advance the work of Christ. When Jesus taught kindness to the poor, do you think he meant it by first doing violence to the rich or middle class? When he taught righteousness, do you think he meant making others righteous on threat of fine or imprisonment?
I do not.
If we do not feel justified in using force to advance these goals individually, why should we feel justified doing it as a group, or hiring it out to others?
Everything government does is done by force. If it’s a new law or regulation, it is backed by threat of fine, imprisonment, or (if you are persistent enough in resisting) force to the point of death. If it is a welfare program, it is funded by tax dollars, which are not given voluntarily. Try not paying your taxes long enough and you’ll find that indeed, force is what’s ultimately behind tax collection. If it were not, funds would be collected by a voluntary association, not government. Government has nothing to give but that which it first takes, and it takes by force or the threat of it.
If you’ve accepted the Christian life, it should indeed transform your entire being and all your actions. Far from believing Christ’s example and words regarding righteousness or care for the poor to be merely spiritual commands, I see them as part of the holistic goal of His kingdom, and involving physical actions. However, I do not see these ends as a justification for violent means.
To attempt to use government to achieve Christian goals is, ultimately, to use physical force. This not only corrupts government, it corrupts the goals themselves and diminishes the true depth of the work of the Kingdom. It reduces a life-transforming message delivered by loving believers into a program for political preferences pushed by a religious interest group.
Oh, and it just so happens that the way human nature works, peaceful and voluntary means of helping the poor and promoting moral behavior achieve unimaginably more than any force-backed government initiative ever can. The genius of creation is manifest in economics – free individuals acting to prosper individually achieve more for their fellow man than mandatory efforts. What is moral, it turns out, is also very efficient.
Christians should not only daily examine their hearts to see if their goals and actions are in line with the ultimate Truth; they should also ask themselves if the means they are using to accomplish those goals are righteous. Sometimes a government program would be easier than doing the work of Christ ourselves, or organizing voluntary efforts. Then again, Christ never said it would be easy.
When He approached Jerusalem, He saw the city and wept over it, saying, “If you had known in this day, even you, the things which make for peace! But now they have been hidden from your eyes.” Luke 19:41–42
As Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to shouts of, “Hosanna” and cloaks and palm branches thrown on the road before him, it seems it must have been a joyful experience. But instead of taking joy in the cheers of the people, Jesus wept over the city.
I’m no Biblical scholar or Jewish historian, but what little I’ve studied of the Bible and the history of the time suggests that the kind of savior the people expected was not the kind Jesus came to be. And for their misplaced hopes, he felt pain.
When Jesus came into the city that day the people gathered to see him and many began to think he may be the Messiah that had been promised the Jews for hundreds of years. They were under the control of the Roman Empire and its various local puppet governments. Understandably, when the Jews learned the promises of a savior and King in the line of their great king David, they expected a Messiah who would free them from Roman rule.
When Jesus entered the city they waved Palm Branches and shouted, “Hosanna.” History suggests these were significant, even dangerous political gestures. Hosanna was a Hebrew word that meant, “Save, now!” and had a very physical connotation. It was not at that time a cry of spiritual or abstract salvation, but a very real shout for physical salvation, which had specific meaning to a people under Roman rule. The Palm branch was a nationalistic symbol for the Jews, a symbol that had appeared on the last coins made when Israel was free. That is perhaps why the Pharisees told Jesus to “rebuke” his disciples – because to openly praise one they thought came to defy their rulers was politically dangerous.
As the crowd of people saw Jesus entering the city, they saw a political savior; one who might at last rise up and free them from the Romans, and they cheered His arrival. But He wept. He wept because they did not know, “The things which make for peace.” He had not come to free them from physical bondage.
Jesus did not intend to be a political figure. He seemed to largely ignore the Romans, and even saved His criticisms and rebukes not for the political leaders, but for the leaders of His own people; their spiritual leaders. When He taught righteousness it was never backed by force. When He told the rich man to give all he had to the poor the man walked away; Jesus did not force him to obey, but instead let him go. He refused to use earthly law to punish a prostitute by stoning; instead he told her, “Go and sin no more,” and left her free to decide. He did not come to spread his Kingdom with the tools of earthly kingdoms – force and coercion. He did not come to offer political freedom. He came to offer freedom from something much deeper.
To conflate the work of Christ with the work of worldly politics is to miss the meaning of His life, death, and resurrection. To claim that a Christian must vote for a specific policy or politician, that Christians must use government to enforce our morals – to prohibit bad behavior or to force good behavior – is to reduce the work of Christ to the work of a politician. He is not too weak or insignificant for political battles; political battles are too weak and insignificant for Him. The kind of freedom and righteousness He offers is far too great, too personal, to be advanced by physical force (which all politics boils down to); politics is beneath the spiritual life, not above it.
There is a place for politics. Physical freedom is a worthy goal. Defending oneself from violence and oppression is not immoral. Involvement in the political process to these ends is not wrong. But as a Christian, to use government as more than a defense for physical freedom, to enforce the morality you believe in through law backed up by the agents of the state is to contradict Christ Himself.
It is that desire to look to Christ as a way to accomplish our political goals that made Him weep as He entered Jerusalem. They looked for peace through a political savior; He knew the peace He brought was much deeper and could be had regardless of the physical conditions around them. Politics is force. Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem that day had been prophesied by Zechariah, who described Him as, “Gentle.”
Let us emulate Him when we enter the realm of politics. Let us never forget that the freedom He brings transcends this world, and His peace cannot be attained or spread by force.