At this year’s National Religious Broadcasters’ convention, the most talked-about topic was what evangelicals’ attitude should be toward President Clinton. Through the centuries, no question has been more vexing for Christians than how to confront the state—whether in the first century, when believers paid with their lives for refusing to bow to Caesar, or in the Middle Ages, when the church shamelessly married the state. The question is being debated anew by evangelicals today in a simmering controversy that threatens to divide our ranks.
In one corner are politically moderate evangelicals who charge conservatives with leveling nothing but harsh criticism against President Clinton—even stooping to personal attacks on him and his family. Conservatives fire back that moderates, enjoying unaccustomed access, are a bit too cozy with the White House and are forsaking their prophetic role, especially regarding homosexuality and abortion. Some evangelicals have pronounced a plague on both houses; they call us to forsake the political arena and stick to our spiritual knitting.
Clearly, evangelicals need to step back and regroup around basic biblical principles. What are those principles?
First and most obviously for Christians: there is never an excuse for disrespect. The Bible commands us to “fear God, honor the king,” to pray for “all those in authority.” The reason we pray, Paul tells Timothy, is so that they may rule well and we may live peaceably. It has nothing to do with whether they are Democrats or Republicans, or whether we voted for them. How can Christians encourage fellow citizens to respect authority if we ourselves do not show the utmost civility?
Admittedly, on the evangelical fringes some have fallen short of this high standard and should repent. None of us should be above examining our own conscience. I confess to my own private indiscretions—jokes and jabs.
But does civility mean silence—or even withdrawal from politics? No. As Augustine taught, Christians should be “the best of citizens.” What does it mean to be model citizens in our day, when many of the administration’s policies run contrary to our deepest beliefs?
In the 1980s, the duties of citizenship seemed easy since much of our agenda was embraced by national leaders. But no longer. Take the abortion issue. President Clinton’s policies have been consistently pro-choice. On the twentieth anniversary of Roe v. Wade, he rescinded all executive orders restricting abortion access. Recently his administration announced that all abortions resulting from rape and incest would henceforth be defined as “medically necessary,” to be covered by Medicaid. With a stroke of the pen, the federal government overrode the laws of all the states that prohibit or limit taxpayer funding of abortion. So how can we resist “the king” while still honoring him?
Consider the teaching of Samuel Rutherford, a seventeenth-century Scottish cleric. Rutherford wrote a passionate treatise entitled Lex Rex challenging the divine right of kings, contending that the law stands above the king. Rutherford’s analysis rested on the crucial distinction between the office of the magistrate and the person of the magistrate. Christians are commanded to respect the office, he wrote; but if the person acts contrary to God’s law, Christians have a duty to challenge him.
In modern times, theologian Reinhold Niebuhr drew a similar distinction. On one hand, Niebuhr says, Christians are called to honor the ruling authority as a reflection of divine authority. On the other hand, the Bible is replete with prophetic judgments on particular rulers for oppressing the poor and defying divine law. A genuinely biblical understanding of government must retain both these elements in tension: what Niebuhr called “priestly sanctification” of the principle of government coupled with “prophetic criticism” of any particular government.
Ironically, the very week evangelicals were debating these issues at the NRB convention, a nonevangelical arrived in Washington and provided a vivid model: Mother Teresa, keynote speaker at the National Prayer Breakfast. Barely visible over the podium, the tiny nun started her address not with customary niceties but with a verse from Matthew 25. Then she stunned the assembled dignitaries, including the President and Vice President, by saying, “The greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion.… [For] if we accept that a mother can kill even her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill each other?”
In her simple, white habit, reading from a hand-typed manuscript, Mother Teresa was invariably polite and respectful. Yet she did not flinch in speaking the truth. She demonstrated civility wedded to bold conviction, confronting world leaders with a message of biblical righteousness.
It was also a message of help and hope. To anyone considering abortion, Mother Teresa pleaded, “Please don’t kill the child. I want the child. Please give me the child.” With a small smile that broke her somber expression, she spoke of the young women she had cared for through their pregnancies, of the infertile couples who had eagerly adopted babies into loving homes.
Regardless of political persuasion, evangelicals must strive to be of one mind. We ought to show unfailing civility to government officials. But being civil does not mean being silent or forsaking politics. “Priestly sanctification” must always be balanced with “prophetic criticism.” To fall short of either responsibility is to betray our richest heritage and deny our biblical calling.
