Twenty-five years ago, I heard Walter Brueggemann say that he believes the Scripture tells one story, it just repeats that story over
and over again. The singular biblical story is this: God is calling a people out from the world to live in relationship to him and be a reflection of his nature and character in the world (to be the imago Dei), the problem is that they also live in an “Empire” which is trying to form and mark them in its own image. According to Brueggemann, empires can go by a lot of different names (Egypt, Canaan, Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Rome, etc...) but they always embody an idolatrous counter-story to the reign of God and the eternal kingdom he invites the faithful to enter.
I have shared this idea regarding the kingdom v. empire often in sermons and lectures. I think most Christians would agree that this is a very important theme in the bible. The question that is difficult to deal with in our context is the next logical one: is America an empire in the biblical sense? And if it is, what kind of empire is it? Is it a good one or a bad one? Is it the kind of empire that helps people live as reflections of the Lamb or is it a beast that wants to mark us in its image?
Peter Leithart is my new jam. I recently finished reading his book Between Babel and Beast: America and Empires in Biblical Perspective. In it, Leithart does an amazing job of surveying the theme of empires in the Scripture and thinking about their purpose. Some empires in the bible are used by God and others are judged by the Lord (most are both). Some empires operate in ways that God honors and blesses, while others are beasts that are destined for destruction. God’s people encounter some empires (namely Babylon) that are not beastly and oppressive, but they are alluring and seductive “whores” slowly absorbing the faithful into their life and values. All empires are the children of Babel and operate in ways similar to the Genesis 11 city that caused the nations to fracture. All empires, like Babel, are tempted to make for themselves a great name by self-sufficiently building a tower to supposed transcendence. Every empire is bluffed into believing (and thus convincing their people to also believe) that they are eternal.
Again, the question is, where does America fit among these descriptions of empires? In this book, Leithart argues that, although the United States is one of history’s great nations, our unique history, success and global impact have seduced us into believing we are something more – God’s New Israel, the new order of the ages, the last best hope for humankind, a redeemer nation. The problem for Leithart is not patriotism or a love for America by its citizens, but a placing in the nation a hope reserved only for the kingdom of God. When the two (the nation and the kingdom) get confused or blended, as they often do, Leithart believes Christians have moved from faithfulness to the gospel to a form of heresy he calls “Americanism.” This is a problem the church must take seriously, and one it must call people to leave behind. As Leithart writes,
Against this American mythology, I contend that “American faith,” though unthinkable without the heritage of Christendom, represents a heretical departure from the political heritage of the church. American Christians need to assess our past accurately if we are going to act faithfully in the present. Until American churches actually function as outposts of Jesus’ heavenly empire rather than as cheerleaders for America – until the churches produce martyrs rather than patriots – the political witness of Christians will continue to be diluted and co-opted. xi
There is so much to wrestle with in Leithart’s book. But here are three reflections:
First, God has given an important role to authorities (like nations and empires) and has given important roles to his people living within those principalities and powers.
Authority is ordained by God. It is good that children have parents, churches have pastors, students have teachers, cities have mayors, states have governors, and nations have leaders. Order is a good thing. Chaos (tohuand bohu) is not the way things are supposed to be.
But I would argue that, although authority and order itself is ordained by God, not all authorities and keepers of order have been chosen by God or act in ways consistent with the way God intends those placed in such positions should act. (See my blog on how to read Romans 13 Blog). I believe that, from a biblical perspective, empires or nations (and those placed in any position of authority) are to act in ways that bring life, security, blessing, nurture, protection, and freedoms to those under their care. Principalities and powers act most like the God who has granted to them dominion when they lead in the servant-hearted way modeled by Jesus. God raises up empires and nations to serve, not to be served, and to orient their existence for the well-being of as many as possible.
In this sense there is much in American history and even in the American imagination worth honoring and venerating. I do think it is in this sense of proper acting authority that we can rightly think of America as a “Christian nation.” In its commitment to the rights, freedoms, and dignity of individuals it operates in ways that God wants authorities to act. And it is in these aspects of America that we rightly recognize (and honor) the fingerprints of the Christian faith in its founding.
And I agree with Leithart that Christian people should be encouraged to serve in all kinds of roles of leadership within and for the nation. He writes, “Yahweh scattered citizens of His empire among the nations for a reason, not just to teach Israel a lesson but to begin forming a martyr-people whose faithful resistance would remake Gentile empire” (p. 22). In the words of Jeremiah, God’s people should “work for the welfare of Babylon.”
Because I speak so often about the ways I am convinced the gospel – and the cross in particular – invite disciples of Jesus to live non-violently, I am frequently asked if I think Christians can or should serve in the military, in the police force, or in government roles that command both. My answer is always, “Yes… but prayerfully and carefully.” I have nothing but the utmost respect for those who willingly give their lives to protect the vulnerable and oppressed. As a professor of mine used to say, there was something godly happening when the fences of concentration camps were taken down and the allied forces released those suffering and dying from such evil oppression. There is something deeply divine when the onslaught of evil is checked and subdued by properly acting authority.
Just last week a military chaplain asked me what kind of prayer he could pray with troops as they prepared for battle. I suggested that he might pray something like the following prayer: “Almighty God, we lament our inability to make peace without making war. We pray today that you would guide us as we attempt to re-establish peace. We not only pray for our physical protection but also that you would protect us from abusing the incredible power you have placed in our hands. We pray that you would help us limit the destruction to what is necessary for the goal of peace and that whatever we are called to do today or in the future brings us closer to a permanent peace and does not continue the cycles of violence that have plagued the world for too long. Amen.”
The chaplain thanked me and thought that was a very Christian way to pray. However, he wasn’t sure he could use it, because he was very uncertain about how that prayer would be received. Which leads to my next reflection…
It is very difficult to break free from the “Americanist heresy.” It is woven deeply into fiber of who we are as a nation. (It is particularly woven deep into we evangelical types).
My sense is the reason my new chaplain friend really liked but wasn’t sure he could use my suggested prayer was because it makes peace and not triumph the goal. My suggested prayer also raises subtle questions about the redemptive nature of violence, and it raises the possibility that God’s purposes and our national purposes may not always be aligned. For Leithart, most of us aren’t heretics because we are bad people. We have come by our Americanist heresy quite naturally. Here’s how Leithart describes it,
[The phrase God’s American Israel] was a fundamental paradigm to help early American settlers understand their role in God’s history. The Puritans who settled Massachusetts Bay Colony believed that God had providentially guided them to the new land and that He had great intentions for them. The parallels with Israel’s history were too numerous and too precise to be accidental. They had faced persecution and oppression of various sorts in Europe, now characterized as an old Egypt. The Lord had led them across a dangerous and deadly sea… America was an uninhabited and uncivilized wasteland, the desert of Israel’s testing… Alternatively, the new world was new Canaan, not a land of cities and cultivated vineyards, but a raw natural world that lay before the colonists for their conquest and dominion. Of course, this placed the Indians in the unfortunate and unenviable position of latter-day Canaanites… The American colonists were a chosen people who had relived the history of God’s earlier chosen people. (p. 67)
This innate sense of American divine destiny also leads to a unique kind of Messianic complex in which American liberty is the hope for humankind. We believe that we are in some sense “saving” other nations if we are able to remake them in our image. “America is the already…the rest of the world is the not yet” (p. 75). In this way of thinking it is America (and not the church universal) that is the light to the nations.
With this belief woven deep within our bones it becomes very difficult to be objective (let alone prophetic) about how the nation sometimes operates. One of the most important but difficult chapters in the text is Leithart’s survey of many of the unjust actions America has committed in her history, and many of the ways we not only overlook but support some of the most beastly empires in the world (especially some who do commit atrocities against Christians) out of self-interest. The problem is not just that the nation has done and continues to do unjust things, it is that we have very little ability to name them as unjust and to repent of them. The Americanist heresy assures us that everything the nation does must be right because we are God’s nation. Through this lens, no matter how we act, we are always the global good guy. This is very problematic, and it keeps us from understanding why other nations often view us not as redeemers, but as oppressors. “Americanism distorts our self-image: If we see ourselves as God’s gift to the world, we will have a hard time acknowledging our blemishes” (p. 86).
The American church has to find practices that honor what is best about America when it acts in ways God desires authorities to act. But it must have practices that locate our primary identity and imagination within the kingdom of God.
Here is an especially troubling quote from Leithart, “…Americanism distorts even orthodox religious convictions because, in the absence of the metapolitics of Christendom, Americanism is the de facto political theology for most American Christians. American churches cannot critique and confront American power because promotion of Americanism is what American churches stand for. Individual Christians do not have the virtues necessary to function as citizens of God’s imperium because American churches have discipled them to function as citizens of the American imperium instead” (p. 111).
I find it hopeful these days that many in the Christian community are recognizing how deeply woven these two contrary forces are in many of our imaginations and in our practices of worship.
Again, as I speak and teach about these issues, I’m frequently asked about keeping the American flag in the sanctuary. My standard answer (especially to young pastors) is that having the flag in the sanctuary is not my favorite practice. But I would not remove it until the people know (a) how much you love them and (b) that you value many of the same virtues that flag represents for them. I saw a church recently that, rather than removing the American flag, displays prominently the flags of all the nationalities of the people who make up their church. I kind of like what that says. It proclaims that all of the nations are gathered today under the lordship of Jesus Christ.
But the practices go way beyond where to place flags or how the church celebrates and acknowledges various national holidays. It shows up in how we pray, the way we preach, the way we baptize, and the ways we gather around the Lord’s table. I often like to laugh about “we confusion.” The church has to constantly find ways to remember that the “we” that is gathered in Christian fellowship is not the nation but the holy, universal, and unified global church. However, remembering that takes lots of practice.
I had a church member ask me recently if I was trying to make people un-American. I responded with an emphatic "no." I love this nation. I pray that God will help it operate the way he desires nations to bring order in an often fragmented and violent world. I told him my goal was not to make him un-American but just a little less American and a lot more Christian.
Leithart says it a lot better than I can:
My main practical message is a simple one: Remember who you are, and to whom you belong. Remember that you belong to Jesus first and last; remember that the church, not America, is the body of Christ and the political hope of the future; remember that no matter how much it may have served the city of God, America is in itself part of the city of man; remember that the Eucharist is our sacrificial feast. It is good for Christians to be salted throughout our polity – in the White House and bureaucracies, in the military, in international institutions. But Christians in those positions are called to be salt. American churches have too long discipled Christians in Americanism, and that makes Christian involvement in the American polity far smoother than it ought to be. Churches must repent of our Americanism and begin to cultivate martyrs – believers who are martyrs in the original sense of “witness” and in the later sense of men and women ready to follow the Lamb all the way to an imperial cross. xiii
Amen.
What a great review and great thoughts on the book. I look forward to reading the book.
Posted by: Steve | February 21, 2019 at 05:47 PM