During my college days I went hiking in a wilderness area. I was the only rookie in this group of experienced hikers, but the adventure of following a primitive trail drew us together. Then we came to a bridge-a swinging bridge over a rushing river. The rest of the group laughed and swayed their way across. Was I the only one afraid of heights? I had a choice: I could swallow my fear and cross, or return to the car to wait.
As a pastor I face another rickety bridge-the one between church matters and outside political issues. There are plenty of reasons not to cross over-to stay inside the church. There are also good reasons to face the danger and go ahead. I’ve done some swaying and trembling in recent years in the ministry, and I’d like to pass on some of what I’ve learned about crossing into political territory.
The caution
When I entered the pastorate, a crusty veteran of the cloth gave me this unsolicited counsel: “Hunter, I’ll give you two pieces of advice that will keep you out of lots of trouble. First, don’t cross the women’s organization in the church. They are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves and you. Second, don’t let your church get into politics.” A slap on the back signaled that he had given me all I needed for success.
I have seldom questioned the first piece of advice, but I am wrestling with the second.
Not that I haven’t seen the dangers. One pastor I know was so intent on political victory on a certain issue that every Scripture was interpreted in light of “the issue.” He began to value his congregation as a bloc of voters. He castigated churches not active on the issue. He wanted to raise an army for God, but his church became a battleground, and both he and the gospel became casualties.
Given the advice and certain examples, it seemed safer to stay on this side of politics.
The call
Yet I kept hearing questions that suggested my lay friends had crossed the bridge and were wondering if the church would stay with them. These people would ask me, as pastor, about matters not on our church’s usual agenda:
“Joel, the schools are forming a committee for a new sex-education curriculum. Will we try to have any input about values?”
“Pastor, what does our church have to say about the abortion issue?”
“Joel, these are key elections coming up. Are we going to encourage people to see them as an extension of their Christian convictions? Or should we really care who wins?”
The people I pastored were definitely not sticking to usual church fare. They were wondering how far the gospel stretches. One person summarized the feelings, “Does it seem to you, as it does to me, that the world is having more of an impact on the church than the church is having on the world?”
I began to wonder how “safe” the position of safety really was.
My study in Scripture didn’t build a case for remaining uninvolved, either. While I found no single verse commanding or forbidding political action, I found example after example of people who got involved: Abraham, Joseph, Esther, David, John the Baptist, and others.
All of this made me decide to risk getting more involved.
The crossing, attempt #1
After teaching a Sunday evening series, “God and Government,” I asked for volunteers for a political-concerns caucus. Six people met with me the next week. I feared creating or empowering fanatics (“A fanatic,” Churchill said, “is someone who can’t change his mind and won’t change the subject”). As a result, I made several mistakes.
I purposely went slowly, and I focused on the people of the group instead of issues relevant to the faith. We talked about “Why I am interested in politics.” Of course, the people most interested in politics are usually those most interested in action. But they stuck with the group, though progress was minimal.
I asked the people to find Scriptures related to involvement in politics and to report the principles they found. Never mind that I had just taught a course for six weeks. They gained good insights, but no sense of progress.
Then I suggested each person read a book related to the “God and Government” theme and give a brief report so we could know what the experts say. That was every bit as fun and interesting as it was in fourth grade. Little progress.
Finally, since we eventually would be informing the congregation about the issues, I led a conversation on what typology our congregation fit. Using a book by Robert Webber (The Church in the World), I asked, “Are we a congregation that separates from the world and believes it could be stained by its ways? Or are we a congregation that can identify with the world, that is comfortable that our faith can be lived out in it? Or are we a congregation that wants to be in leadership in the world to transform its structures into instruments of God’s sovereignty?” The group answered yes. No progress.
By this time, the attendance pattern was curiously interrupted by “other commitments.” One man said, “I’m just not interested in that much research.” We had spent too much time studying the bridge we never crossed.
The crossing, attempt #2
Later I decided to get into the new territory. I issued a general invitation for others to join the group, and after the Spirit prompted some, we talked about political issues in earnest.
We listed political issues that held direct implications for Christians. We determined to publish a news bulletin each month describing current issues and the responsible agency or person that members could contact. The stated purpose of our Political Concerns Caucus was “to inform the congregation of political developments so that individuals will pray about them. After prayer, individuals are encouraged to respond to God’s leading in keeping with his character of love.”
Like most pastors, I wanted to be sure the church’s involvement in political questions would not polarize the congregation. So I proposed some principles to the church leaders, which they endorsed.
Emphasis on individual, not group, mobilization. We would not give in to the temptation to take “church stands” on issues to increase our political clout. Instead, we would nurture individual maturity.
Reliance on prayer, not human argument or proof texting, for guidance. The temptation to manipulate people into a decision is always present. One person on the committee said, “We need to provide the church with the right Scriptures and evidence on this issue. People will be looking to us for instruction.”
Another committee person aptly responded, “No, they’re looking to us for information. I hope they’re looking to God for instruction.”
Obedience, not political success, as the goal. In a world that counts success in votes mustered, we could easily switch values. “Why,” asked a wise Christian, “do I have confidence in God against the odds in every area of ministry-except politics? Then I think he has to have a majority to win!” No, the winning is in the witness.
Being a balm, not a bomb, in the political world. The church has been given a ministry of reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:18), yet in college I had seen in myself the typical desire to trade that ministry for one of political victory (Matt. 26:51-53). I had wanted to use Scripture as ammunition. The result had been a “philia-buster.” We hope the world will see in us a difference from other political factions in the way we tolerate and love and learn from those who are not of our own persuasion.
The consequences
In short, we have chosen not the “army of God” approach but the “salt and light” one. As a result, the people interested in only one issue dropped out, as did those with a great fear about “where this country is going.” Our commitment to tolerate divergent opinions, and to avoid action along a single political ideology, proved too frustrating for them. One man of a particularly narrow political stance abandoned not only the group but our church. My role, I’ve learned, is to model openness and a willingness to learn. As I’ve done that, the group, though still populated with people of strong opinions, has begun to grow.
Admittedly, it’s difficult to measure how much this salt-and-light approach is impacting the community. Sometimes I wish we had startling testimonies about how our church single-handedly turned our community around, or closed a porno shop, or beat a piece of anti-Christian legislation.
But while the salt-and-light approach is less spectacular, it is still visible. Many of our members stop to look at a display board showing their precinct and listing the names and addresses of their local, state, and federal representatives. Several have indicated this is the first time they have had that information or encouragement to impact the government. Recently, in response to the Grove City bill, many in our congregation called to express their concerns. There was a feeling of participation and ministry, despite the outcome of the vote, that would not have arisen a year ago.
We have not sponsored a picketing event, but we are sponsoring a voter-registration drive. We seldom organize groups to go to political events, but we do see each other at important county commissioners’ meetings, school board meetings, and other public assemblies.
At church, conversations more often turn to political issues. As people read the newspapers now, they pray and get information for involvement rather than despair over events beyond their sphere of influence. Conversations also reveal a kinship being built with other area churches addressing civil issues. A sense is growing among many of our people that we are taking practical steps toward Christ-centered political competence.
Of course, church life would be much simpler if we ignored the complexities of politics. I could relax. But at that rickety bridge in my college days, and at the rickety bridge into political action, I finally decided the same thing: Adventure and companionship beat safety. I’m going across.
-Joel C. Hunter
Northland Community Church
Longwood, Florida
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