A Modest Proposoal
Corporate confession’s conclusion
What is the National Confessional approach to Christ’s mediatorial Kingship? This series began by noting the four-fold foundation of the National Confessional approach: corporate confession, distinguishing kingdoms, applying the moral law, and defending the Church. So far this series has focused on the issue of corporate confession of Christ. Surveying the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament we conclude that the Christian faith is not simply a private affair between God and an individual’s conscience. Rather, Christianity has public and corporate ramifications. Christ’s Lordship extends to the nations, and as such, nations must give Him honor and glory. Much, therefore, depends on our understanding of the word “nationsâ€.
The great commission charges the Church to baptize the ethnos (nations) (Matthew 28:19). 21st Century Americans who hear the word “nation†are immediately overwhelmed by images of the modern nation-state. One for one application of the biblical ethnos with the modern nation-state has been the hallmark of two centuries of Covenanter application of Christ’s mediatorial Kingship. This month I wish to offer an alternative vision.
An American strategy
Is America an ethnos? Or is it a confederation of multiple ethnos covenanted together on the basis of a shared vision of the common good? Rather, it is an ethnos (rooted in a shared sense of place, language, and history) constituted by a diverse assortment of smaller ethnos (variously rooted in a shared sense of place, religion, blood, and history).
This raises the question, how should Christ’s mediatorial Kingship be applied to a Constitutional Republic (Empire?) such as the United States of America? For years, the answer of the Reformed Presbyterian Church was a constitutional amendment reflecting our national commitment to Christ’s Lordship. The idea that the state’s Christian commitment should mirror that of its people by way of constitutional confession has an attractive logic. This position was so attractive that the Covenanter case is made by no less of a Presbyterian theologian than A.A. Hodge who, in his Outlines of Theology, writes:
It follows therefore—1st. That every nation should explicitly acknowledge the Christ of God to be the Supreme Governor, and his revealed will the supreme fundamental law of the land, to the general principles of which all special legislation should be conformed. 2nd. That all civil officers should make the glory of God their end, and his revealed will their guide (Outlines of Theology, pg. 434).
While it is unquestionably true that civil magistrates at all levels should “kiss the Sonâ€, I suggest that an inordinate focus on a Constitutional Amendment to the Federal Constitution is less than helpful. Does the most committed National Confessionalist believe that a Christian Constitutional Amendment will be showing up on a nearby ballot anytime soon? Pie-eyed dreamers will suggest that anything is possible with God. Great work if you can get it but I would prefer that our politics show a love for God “not in word or talk but in deed and in truthâ€!
Living Lavida Local!
Drawing on our previously argued case for subsidiarity, I propose a more humbly local strategy for applying Christ’s mediatorial Kingship. Christ’s command to baptize the nations charges the Church to see extended families (tribes), communities, villages/towns, guilds, unions, and private associations subservient to the glory of God. While the modern-nation state should not be artificially excluded from our concept of “nation-hood†it must not be the end of, or even the focus of, our discussions. Rather, the doctrine of subsidiarity demands that it is of principally greater importance to seek Christian families than Christian cities, Christian towns than Christian nations. Christian influence is most acutely felt when it is closest to home.
Focus on the family
The first step to living lavida local is to focus on the family. 21st Century Americans have a stale, artificial, and ailing concept of family. This impoverished vision of the family is to often encouraged by conservative evangelical Christians. The modern nuclear family envisions sovereign households headed by father and including wife/mother and 1.5 children. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins to the 4th degree, continue to exist but have little bearing on the modernist family save for birthday celebrations, Christmas presents, and the occasional phone call (or email?). Tribes and clans are broken up in the name of the autonomous individual. A serious approach to Christ’s Kingship will begin with a renewed focus on the family in its more historic and extended form. We should remember that the promise of the covenant extended beyond Abraham’s nuclear family and encompassed to the whole of his broader tribe (including many not bonded by blood).
A renewed sense of Christ’s Kingship over the family must include a renewed sense of the mystical unity of the family as a community cemented by bonds of blood, love, and place. It is time to question the transient nature of our root-less society and the devastating effect it has on our churches. Reformed churches are organic bodies. They do not grow well in the artificial environment of modernist liberalism. Until the church can make a case for place the children God has given us will continue to flee to the pews of distant suburban evangelical community churches. They will continue to forsake worshipping with their extended families and ancient communities in favor of an anonymous life among strangers.
Life together
From extended family we move to the need for a renewal of local communities. In the American System, our nation is not only a community of semi-sovereign states, but each state is a community of semi-sovereign counties, which, in their turn, are communities of semi-sovereign cities, towns, and villages. Note the use of the word semi-sovereign. Here is the genius of American order. Since sovereignty is found in the people, no one level of government or society can claim indivisible sovereignty. Rather, sovereignty is shared between a plethora of diverse social units, civil authorities, and government institutions. Of course, it should go without saying that, if authentic authority comes up from the people, than those civil authorities closest to the people should have precedence. Life is local.
Yet, if life is local, I suggest that our congregations must also renew their commitment to an appropriate sense of place. Time was when congregational life together was a seven-day a week affair. Folks who lived, loved, and worked (bickered, sinned, and hated as well) together the other six days of the week worshipped together on the first. Authentic Christian community was not just a buzzword for a new small group discipleship program at the local mega-church!
When community and congregation share a common geographic reality and more fully appreciate the grace of place, Christ honoring politics will be the natural (supernatural?) result. Does this mean the church should stop testifying of the need for the state and federal governments to confess Christ? Never! 1st Century Rome was less an ethnos than 21st Century America but the church did not abandon hope in her conversion. Rather, it reminds us to keep the horse before the cart. A popular bumper sticker suggests: THINK GLOBALLY, ACT LOCALLY. What a perfect slogan for applying Christian politics. Let us, therefore, embrace a more local view of nationhood and focus our attention on rebuilding Christendom one community at a time.
stevez
August 28th, 2007 at 8:59 am
“Does the most committed National Confessionalist believe that a Christian Constitutional Amendment will be showing up on a nearby ballot anytime soon? Pie-eyed dreamers will suggest that anything is possible with God. Great work if you can get it…”
*Golf clap*
“…but I would prefer that our politics show a love for God “not in word or talk but in deed and in truthâ€!”
I think I might hear David Kuo out there somewhere applauding.
It seems like you take away with one hand what you give with the other. Aren’t you simply raising the stakes beyond the pie-eyed dreams of old-school Christendom? Aren’t you just switching out a tried but failed line of thought for one that is all shiney and new yet still built upon the same basic principle? One hears this in most of Christianity in general today: the answer to externalism in internalism; the antidote, for example, to materialism is immaterialism (i.e. “it’s what is on the inside that counts”); the answer to immorality is morality; the answer to fractured families is intact families; the answer to magistrates not kissing the Son is the magistrate loving the Son. No, the answer, as far as Christianity is concerned, is the Gospel.
In fact, I daresay the whole post seems to presume that the problem we have is not so much sin so much as our lives. It seems to presuppose that the problem man has set at the feet of the Church (i.e. a perception of our times having fallen onto the rocks) is legit. It isn’t. Our problem isn’t a failed magistrate or culture or families. It’s sin. We don’t exist to shape up the world but to hold out the Gospel as salt and light. We are not here to give formulas for a better republic. We are here to proclaim His death to a dying world until He comes again.
Steve
W.H. Chellis
August 28th, 2007 at 10:16 am
Steve,
Your posts speaks of sin as if it were an abstraction. You suggest that the problem is not our lives but sin? What does that mean? What is sin? Where does it manifest? Does your sin manifest itself outside of your life? I don’t get it.
stevez
August 28th, 2007 at 11:37 am
Bill,
I can see why it would be interpreted that way. But then I’d have to concede to popular sop like “God loves the sinner but hates the sin.” But I don’t, because that is pure abstraction, meant to quell the therapeutic demands in the spirit of the age. (If such is true then I don’t understand the notions of bodily punishment; if it is true then wouldn’t God have to abstract my sin from me and send *it* to hell and me to His side? I don’t read that out of revelation nor the Christian tradition so I throw it onto the sop pile.)
I am not sure what more to say to clarify that I have not already. Maybe I could offer the suggestion that the fulcrum ought to be eschatelogical and not ontological? The antithesis is between this age and the next? Maybe such views/presuppositions as you express are entirely too this-worldly but in the bad way? I don’t know. I say those things to my Transformers and I get the same knitted brow, and then the Gnostic-Dispy-Fundamentalist-too-heavenly-minded-for-any-earthly-good charges start up again; consarnit! There goes that crick in my neck again.
Maybe I could ask you: if the problem is my life, why is Christianity the antidote? I still see believers living with the same temporal complaints/doubts/uncertainties/regrets unbelievers do. Has the faith failed them? Are we now flirting with a form of propserity gospel (albeit turned way down to the acceptable decibel of more couth clientele)?
How’s this: Christianity equips sinners to stand against that Day and prepare them, body and soul, for the life to come; it does not seek to repair them here and now, no matter how noble (i.e. family and culture) their concerns (over against ignoble ones like money and status).
Or maybe this. It’s a bit from a little article that attempts to use Mary’s Magnificat to show the difference between the Redemptive-Historical model and the Application-Bridge one, where the fomer is concerned for the next age and the latter for this life.
“Immediate problems with this spiritualized approach aside, one of the most interesting problems to me is how it fractures us as a collective body. It exalts our diverse and particular experiences over our collective and common one. For example, a couple of pews down John may be experiencing some temporal challenges in his life, but I really don’t have any. John may have just lost his job and the doctors still don’t know what is going on with his pregnant wife and do not seem at all hopeful. But my family is healthy, and I honestly can’t think of much that is brooding on my own horizon. I don’t have a proverbial Red Sea. John does. Should I perhaps excuse myself from my pew? Better yet, should I perhaps drum something up so I can at least pretend to participate? Maybe it’s my mid-western values, but that seems awfully condescending in light of John’s circumstances. If we accept the Application-Bridge assumptions, John and I have nothing in common at the moment unless I manufacture a problem in order to fit in. But if we accept the Redemptive-Historical presumptions, we are oddly enough on the very same page. Simply stated, we are both creatures who, regardless of their particular lots, need to move from this world into the next. Sin and grace are our problem and solution despite his pain and my pleasure. John’s situation matters a great deal to say the least; a properly world-affirming and this-worldly piety can say nothing less. But as dire as John’s life is right now, he is not well served by a Red Sea message, and I am not served at all. His mind needs to be on otherworldly concerns. In fact, both our minds should be on such things, no matter how stilted or opposite our particular lives may be. Both of our this-worldly lives, good or bad, should subsume beneath our properly otherworldly concerns.
“This leads to another interesting problem. John has enough reason to not be satisfied with this life and to hope for the age to come. What about me, with all my temporal ducks in order? Am I satisfied? I have always found this sort of question quite telling. It’s easy to claim a hope in Christ and in the age to come when life is falling apart. But I often find myself with my temporal ducks more or less in order (I suspect most of us do, given our American demographics that afford such luxuries). Do I have hope in good times, or does that question seem quite nonsensical—hope in the midst of favor? For my part, I can attest that when all is well I am certainly grateful for it. All good things and times come from God; gratitude ought to characterize a well-tutored Reformed faith. We can all do this theology in our sleep. But I always get that twinge that things are still not right. This life, no matter how good, still just doesn’t cut it. This is the tricky nuance of the confessionally Reformed faith and ethic. It is an ethic that captures the life I live. Our world does indeed belong to God and as Reformed Christians we embrace it wholly whether good or bad. Yet, being too tied to the heels of this life is a this-worldly piety gone quite south. In good Reformed theology, I may and ought to authentically lament when things are bad and rejoice when they are good because this life matters. But either way I should also transcend both sorrow and celebration, hoping for the age to come. The Redemptive-Historical model of confessionalism still asks, Do we have hope even in the midst of favor? The escapist, simplistic and two-dimensional Application-Bridge model cannot sustain such a nuanced existence: seek the world to come only when times are bad, and when they are good just enjoy it. I don’t know about you, but I find a complicated life characterized by concentric circles of competing loyalties and intricacies to need a faith that can keep up.â€
Steve
Steve
stevez
August 28th, 2007 at 1:26 pm
“Maybe I could ask you: if the problem is my life, why is Christianity the antidote? I still see believers living with the same temporal complaints/doubts/uncertainties/regrets unbelievers do.”
I have other questions along these lines for you: Why Christianity? Don’t plenty of other religions, philosophies, therapies and/or activities solve many of this life’s problems? Hasn’t Farrahkan’s Islam morally netted a host of at-risk youth? And if it isn’t moral quest but a more subjectivistic one, don’t plenty of unbelievers go to their graves legitimately happy, healthy and whole? Or is their self-attestation to being such simply to be dismissed out of hand because Christianity wasn’t credited? If so, are we saying that the inner discernment of a sinner is ultimate?
It still seems like the problem, against what the spirit of the age might have, is sin…not morality or personal fulfillment or the dis/repair of the republic, as perfectly legit as those things are. Or does that sound much too simplistic and abstract?
Steve
W.H. Chellis
August 28th, 2007 at 2:33 pm
What is sin?
stevez
August 28th, 2007 at 3:01 pm
“Original sin is extended to all mankind; which is a corruption of the whole nature, and an hereditary disease, wherewith infants themselves are infected even in their mother’s womb, and which produceth in man all sorts of sin, being in him as a root thereof; and therefore is so vile and abominable in the sight of God, that it is sufficient to condemn all mankind.â€
Or, the violation of the Commandments that “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength. This is the first and the great commandment; and the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
Or, “Every sin, both original and actual, being a transgression of the righteous law of God, and contrary thereunto, does in its own nature, bring guilt upon the sinner, whereby he is bound over to the wrath of God, and curse of the law, and so made subject to death, with all miseries spiritual, temporal, and eternal.â€
Steve
W.H. Chellis
August 28th, 2007 at 5:40 pm
And would you say this has something to do with how we live our life?
stevez
August 29th, 2007 at 10:04 am
The short answer is yes.
It has everything to do with how we live our lives as believers, *which is precisely the point of all that is being said*. The rigid rules that W2K is so concerned with has to do with reversing what has happened within western Christendom and its laze, at least from my reading of it. If you want to catch me in some sort of “abstractionism” I don’t see how you can; you need to catch me in apathy. But it would seem, don’t you think, that if I was apathetic I wouldn’t be saying what I do? I say what I do *because* it matters–gravely.
Steve
W.H. Chellis
August 29th, 2007 at 10:28 am
Who defines these rigid boundries of W2K that you speak of? Your concerns do not seem to mirror those I find in David VanDrunen with whom, I believe, I have a great deal of sympathy.
Who is the master, or author, of this approach? It cannot be our own Darryl Hart. I have never read anything nearly as off the wall from him. I guess my question is: whose banner are you flying?
Or, rather, “what you talking about Willis?”
Phil
August 29th, 2007 at 1:06 pm
Steve wrote, “We don’t exist to shape up the world but to hold out the Gospel as salt and light. We are not here to give formulas for a better republic. We are here to proclaim His death to a dying world until He comes again.â€
Steve, you miss the point because your Christology is defective. The truth about our Savior does not end with his death. After nailing our legal failure to his cross, he disarmed rulers and authorities, put them to shame, triumphing over them. His incarnation/crosswork entitled him to enter Satan’s house, bind him, then plunder him, as Christ demonstrated by casting out demons. Thus with confidence we may go forth, joyfully, to disciple all the nations.
This defect is why you totally miss the point when you write, “We are not here to give formulas for a better republic.†The point isn’t about us but about our Redeemer, what he has done, and what he has received. We are mere servants.
You’re too pessimistic about what Christ has accomplished.
Phil
August 29th, 2007 at 1:17 pm
Steve wrote, “We are not here to give formulas for a better republic.â€
Who says that we are here to give such formulas? And who says it even has to be a republic? John Knox and then the Westminster Divines were comfortable with a monarchy.
Second, what transformational thinker claims that the Bible is a textbook for republican formulas?
stevez
August 29th, 2007 at 1:17 pm
OK, Bill. I think you have chosen to make this more complicated than it has to be.
I have always, I think, understood where you are coming from and what you basically mean to say…I just don’t agree. It would be so much easier if you’d say the same, don’t you think? I get that much from Andrew (thanks, Andrew). This “I don’t get you” refrain seems a bit below the threshold of useful discussion since I don’t think much of what I say is all that enigmatic.
Maybe it is just “different strokes”?
Steve
W.H. Chellis
August 29th, 2007 at 2:54 pm
No fair Steve. I have asked a real question. Where is this W2K position that you are drawing from? My contention is that you are defending a caricature of a position.