As Christians our primary allegiance is to Jesus as Lord of all, and to God’s kingdom in which he reigns over all things as sovereign. We live in an in-between time, after the kingdom’s inauguration but before its final consummation, when we acknowledge Christ as king yet realize a prince of darkness actively disputes his right to the throne.

            It is always difficult to be in a now/not-yet situation. Living by kingdom values is never easy—which is why it’s called a life of faith—and as our Lord promised, doing so would never be popular in a world in revolt against its rightful sovereign. It is hard to be content when things don’t always seem to be moving in the correct direction. Waiting has never been a strong suit for fallen human beings. And it is hard not to be seduced by visions and agendas that promise relief and better times, if only they could be implemented by the powers that be. Every political ideology—libertarianism, conservatism, liberalism, progressivism, nationalism—takes an aspect of created reality, makes it central and then builds a political vision and agenda around it. This is why each usually has some good ideas and good proposals: each is rooted in an aspect of created reality and so is not completely removed from life in a fallen world. Which is what makes political ideologies attractive even to the people of God.

            A great deal is at stake in all this. The primary issue is God’s glory and the honor of Christ as Lord of lords. Ideologies are grounded in something less than Christ, and that is why the biblical term for ideologies is idolatry. Also at stake is the integrity of Christ’s church. If political ideology supersedes commitment to the gospel of the kingdom the church’s unity begins to crumble. And at stake is the church’s witness to the gospel, because the perspective of a believer shifts radically when they move from a kingdom vision to seeing things as an ideology defines life and reality.

            A gloomy “slouching toward Gomorrah” view of culture leads, I think, to meanness. If we think we are on the losing end of the arc of history, we slide into outrage. If we see ourselves, though, as part of a kingdom that is triumphant in Christ, we ought to display a kind of provocative tranquility. We see those who disagree with us not as threatening to us or to our gospel, but those who, like all of us were, are held captive to an accusing power. We speak with convictional kindness because we love our neighbors, and because we are confident in our gospel. If the gates of hell won’t prevail against Jesus’ onward march, then why are we terrified by Hollywood or Capitol Hill? [Russell Moore, Ethics & Religious Liberty Commission, Southern Baptist Convention]

            I believe Moore is correct, and in this brief statement has put his finger on something we as Christians need to take seriously. As I read his words, several practical questions came to mind. Reflecting on them can help us identify the extent to which we have slid from a kingdom perspective towards an ideological framework in our thinking, feeling, and doing.

            1. Am I discouraged, disappointed, or depressed after an election cycle, a Supreme Court ruling or a legislative effort? It is true that in each case kingdom values may cause us to prefer one outcome over another. Still, we know from Scripture that there is ebb and flow in history. Read the Old Testament and see how good and bad kings, moral and immoral leaders rose to power but never once did God’s rule slip out of control. Our calling remains the same regardless of the details, and that is to remain faithful to the kingdom of God. If our hope is in God and his kingdom alone, we have reason for contentment and joy.

            2. Do I consider leaving a church or Christian fellowship because I disagree with the politics of leaders or other members? Or as a variation on this, are there people in my church I shun because I find their political views untenable? This is, from a biblical perspective, an extremely important issue. It is dangerous when we essentially see our political agendas as equal in significance to our commitment to the historic orthodoxy of our faith. Christian unity is grounded in the teaching of Scripture, summarized, for example in the beliefs of the Apostle’s Creed and not in the values of a political vision. Make the wrong choice here and our souls can be at stake.

            3. Do we tend to see the citizens that do not share my political views as rivals (to be defeated or convinced) or as people I am called to befriend and love, even at cost (economic, time, health, life, political) to myself? Ideologies and agendas call their followers to work in order to win. The kingdom calls us to set aside our preferences and rights in order to help those created in God’s image to flourish though the gospel of Christ’s life, death, resurrection and ascension. I fear that much of the younger generation dismisses the gospel as irrelevant at least partly because of the politicization of the church.

            4. Am I content as a Christian being faithful in the political sphere of life when that requires the hard work of being co-belligerents with disparate parties or candidates on various issues at different times because no single party fully embraces kingdom values and convictions? Because political ideologies are ultimately rooted in some aspect of created reality, none are completely separated from life. And there will be times we will need to abstain because no option is available that adequately reflects the imperatives of God’s law and character.

            We need to read St John’s Revelation regularly. Don’t read it as a puzzle to be solved (it isn’t one) but as a series of imaginative visions (which they are). Each one is actually fairly simple: God’s reign is disputed, God’s kingdom is challenged, God’s righteousness prevails. It’s how the story ends, and the ending is certain. And that is why we can be kingdom people now as we wait, and wonder, and be content, and wait some more.

The philosopher Frederick Nietzsche identified a tendency in political life that he called ressentiment. As James Hunter explains in To Change the World, it embraces what we mean by “resentment, but it also involves a combination of anger, envy, hate, rage, and revenge as a motive for political action” [107]. This definition is correct, but at first glance seems to name a vile affection that most of us could not imagine being true of ourselves. Yet, as Hunter correctly argues, ressentiment animates both the conservative Right and the progressive Left including the evangelical versions of both political stances.

“Ressentiment is grounded,” Hunter explains, “in a narrative of injury, or, at least, perceived injury; a strong belief that one has been or is being wronged” [107]. Slowly this sense of wrong begins to shape a group’s identity, and “is expressed as a discourse of negation; the condemnation and denigration of enemies” [108].

The narratives or stories—or more accurately, the political myths—that are foundational to the mindset and worldview of both evangelical conservatives and evangelical progressives are shaped in large measure by a profound sense of ressentiment. This deep sense of injury is one reason why incivility, anger, and sharply worded attacks at perceived imbalance, unfairness, and danger seem to dominate the rhetoric in the public square.

The political myths of the Right and Left are quite different, but both animate their followers. As evangelical conservatives tell the story of history, America was founded as a Christian nation, but that heritage and culture has been stolen by secularists, and the liberals who dominate the press and the world of higher learning are trying to move us from freedom towards ever-increasing expansion of intrusive governmental power. As evangelical progressives tell the story of history, America was founded by marginalized people seeking freedom from injustice, but increasingly middle-class Christians have championed free market consumerism, and the conservatives who dominate the so-called Christian media have hijacked the witness of the church, proclaiming a message that is a perversion of the full gospel, conveniently forgetting biblical mandates about caring for the earth and the poor.

The result of this ideological captivity on both sides of the political spectrum is devastating. For one thing, ressentiment, like all forms of bitterness and anger, is like a deadly poison slowly working to kill our souls. That it has fostered an environment in which thoughtful discussion becomes impossible should be rather obvious. And, as Hunter points out, “rather than being defined by its cultural achievements, its intellectual and artistic vitality, its service to the needs of others, Christianity is defined to the outside world by its rhetoric of resentment and the ambitions of will in opposition to others” [174]. Both myths involve a highly selective reading of history, the sense of injury that animates both sides is unbecoming to followers of a crucified Lord, and the angry identification of opponents that must be defeated if truth and justice are to prevail is a practical denial of grace and compassion. In the end, Hunter says, “many of the most prominent Christian leaders and organizations in America have fashioned an identity and witness for the church that is, to say the least, antithetical to its highest calling” [175].

Both the Evangelical Right and the Evangelical Left have evolved into political ideologies, or to use a more biblical term, idolatries. Animated by ressentiment, they claim to bring the gospel to bear on the public square while actually baptizing an ill-spirited will to power with a thin veneer of Christian religiosity.

Holy Father.

It brings me to despair to realize how difficult it is for me to treat others as I would want to be treated. I do not plan incivility towards those with whom I disagree, but find it tumbles out of my heart unbidden. I am selective in my choice of evidence, am quick to argue, and often fail to listen with care.

Help me to remember that the enemies against which I struggle are the flesh, the world, and the devil. That my hope lies not in the political process but in the promise that you remain sovereign even in this world where nothing remains untainted by the fall. Cause me to demonstrate the love you have called your people to exhibit, granting grace to opponents as well as friends. Give me the strength to shed the easy idolatries on offer in the public square, choosing instead simply to be faithful to your gospel. Cause me to be civil, thoughtful, and fair even when those who disagree with me do not return the favor. Help me to motivated not by remembered injury but by an abiding gratitude for your goodness.

By your grace alone may your world see some small glimpse of glory in me because of Christ and come to believe.

Amen.