Politics

It’s been one of those days

Danny Webster 2 Comments

FNT compassionIt was one of those days when I all I could find to take down details of a voice mail message was a paper plate.

I suppose today started at 10.30 last night. I got an email. The Times had the story: Steve Chalke supported active monogamous gay relationships, you can read all about it in Christianity Magazine. I knew a day destined to be busy because of the European Court of Human Rights judgement on four religious freedom cases was about to get a whole lot more hectic.

And through the day one thing turned over and over in my head. If we’re to call for civility in society and civility in dealing with situations where Christian beliefs rub up against differing prevailing views in society, then we need to model civility

Civility doesn’t ignore difference, but it seeks a way for us to live together despite our differences.

I work for the Evangelical Alliance (I might as well be honest about my affiliation) and that put us at the centre of today’s storms. When the role of faith in public life is under question, and potential legal coercion, it is a subject of interest – we want to articulate in a calm and reasonable manner what the upshot of these cases is, and also what it might not be. And when a figure with huge profile in the evangelical world makes statements such as Steve Chalke’s today, then it is something requiring a response.

But how to respond? How to speak honestly and thoughtfully on an issue such as homosexuality which carries with it such depth of personal experience and highly charged emotions. This answer is patently not to ignore it and hope it will go away. The answer is to search once again for that balance that lies at the heart of the Christian life: truth and grace.

It sounds trite, it sounds simple, it also sounds like a way to take a swipe at someone while parading Christian credentials. But I cannot think of two things that are needed more, in either of these discussions. But it is still how we should try and respond. In neither case would everyone be pleased, in neither case would everyone think the content or the tone was correct.

Disagreement might not always be nice. And in fact it rarely is. But conflict is also part of life and we cannot ignore it. I’m not going to set out the theological issues in play here, because I am both ill equipped and I think Steve Holmes has provided a strong but careful critique of Steve Chalke’s position. What I am going to float is that having a view about what is or is not the best way for a Christian to live does not stop Christianity, or any particular church from being inclusive.

Because if you take the opposite argument to a logical conclusion it makes it hard if not impossible to promote any values within the life of the church. This is not what Steve Chalke was saying, but the critique of the church for holding a certain view of homosexuality does not hold water if to change it is solely in pursuit of inclusion. The church believes in discipleship towards the likeness of Christ, and that means there are things we should do and others we should not. And it promotes a way of life in accordance to those goals. What this is definitively not is a threshold of moral achievement that allows us to call ourselves Christian or a ticket into heaven.

Instead it is building a community where we live in full acknowledgement of our frequent ability to get things wrong, but also set our sights on something else.

How the church can be more welcoming, more inclusive, is a challenge that cannot be ignored, and it is vital if we are ever going to get close to civility. But it cannot mean that the church just changes its teaching so not to risk alienating those who disagree. It is also where the difficult task of speaking truthfully comes in, being prepared to speak when we disagree, and most of all not forsaking our relationships with one another for the sake of being right.

That’s a tough gig. But it’s one the church has to rise to.

Religion in the dock: navigating the legal landscape of religious discrimination

Danny Webster 1 Comment

Jan Feb 2012 008On Tuesday the European Court of Human Rights will issue its judgement on four cases concerning religious discrimination. The cases, brought together against the UK government are the culmination of several years of progress through the layers of courts and together represent a significant moment for understanding the role of religion in public life in the UK. The cases of Eweida, Chaplin, Ladele and McFarlane have all attracted headlines at multiple points during their consideration, and this will certainly be true next week.

Ahead of the judgement I wanted to explore the contours of the cases and the legal landscape, in an attempt to clear some space for a considered and thoughtful response. I intend to write a more opinionated piece soon in which I may venture some predictions as to how I think the cases might be decided. But I also might not. Also, big caveat required, I’m not a lawyer, so I may have got all of this analysis wrong, or it might be over simplistic.

The judgement will be poured over in considerable detail in the days, weeks and months to come, and it could establish important precedent for future cases before UK courts. The judgement could also be couched in very narrow terms which mean it doesn’t set precedent and the applicability is limited to the specific cases in question. It is also possible that the judgement will not be universal for all the four cases, so one may win and the others lose, or any other variation on that theme.

The legal analysis is unlikely to matter much for the immediate press response which will be either: “Christians are marginalised”, or “vital victory for freedom of religion”. Call me a cynic if you wish.

It is not just the mainstream media that will jump to immediate and potentially generalised conclusions, the same can sometimes be true of Christian as we respond to the news. I think it is therefore important to understand what is going on, both with the cases in question and in the legal processes involved. I was going to put a profile of the four cases up, but Gillan over at God and Politics has put up the summaries from the hearing in September last year. At this point anything further I have to say would be editorialising as to the relative merits of the four cases, something which for now I will refrain from.

As well as understanding the facts of the cases it is also help to know what the courts are adjudicating on. The cases have been brought under Article 9 of the European Convention of Human Rights which protects freedom of religious belief, with Article 14 – freedom against discrimination – also in play. Article 9 is split into two sections, the first provides for the freedom of thought, conscience and religion and the second the manifestation of said religion or belief. The first is without restriction, the latter is open to limitation “as are prescribed by law and are necessary in a democratic society in the interests of public safety, for the protection of public order, health or morals, or for the protection of the rights and freedoms of others.”

In assessing the cases the courts take a four step process to consider whether unlawful restriction of religious belief and its manifestation has taken place. Daniel Whistler and Daniel Hill have published a paper considering philosophical perspectives on religious discrimination and symbolism, and outline this four step process. Their paper most closely relates to the cases of Eweida and Chaplin, but there is also a broader applicability.

(i) Belief test: Initially, claims are judged to engage Article 9 only if the beliefs that are purportedly manifested meet certain criteria. These criteria are ‘a certain level of cogency, seriousness and importance’ as well as being ‘worthy of respect in a democratic society and not incompatible with human dignity’. In short, such beliefs must be ‘a coherent view on a fundamental problem.’

(ii) Manifestation test: Secondly, the judges ask whether the rites of worship, observances, teachings or practices that allegedly manifest such beliefs can, in fact, be properly designated ‘manifestations of belief’, rather than (for instance) practices which are merely motivated by such beliefs.

(iii) Interference: Thirdly, it needs to be established that the claimant’s right to manifest his or her beliefs was in fact interfered with. It is at this stage that questions surrounding the claimant’s ability to resign or transfer schools (or be educated at home) in order to manifest his or her beliefs freely is considered.

(iv) Justification: Finally, the judges consider the extent to which the State was justified in interfering with the claimant’s rights in line with the limitations on freedom of religion and belief set out in Article 9(2). For instance, was the prohibition of the manifestation necessary in a democratic society?

(pp 16-17 Religious Discrimination and Symbolism: A Philosophical Perspective full paper available online)

This extensive quote from the paper, which is worth reading in full if you’ve got a couple of hours to spare, casts light on the complex process the court takes to decide if religious freedom has been unlawfully restricted. The paper looks in significant depth at the manifestation test, which in public discourse is sometimes referred to as the necessity test, but the authors contend that the court’s record does not support such a reading of the law. They suggest that beliefs which are manifested but might not be necessary still engage Article 9 protection. This seemingly technical legal point is important when considering the status of Christian belief and action before the law because very few, if any, practical out workings of belief are mandated.

In the hearing before the European Court of Human Rights in September the government lawyer incurred considerable ire for suggesting that religious belief was not infringed because, in reference to the cross cases, they could get another job. This is part of the third test, that of whether interference took place. If the court finds that the option of getting another job is sufficient to avoid passing the interference test, then this has wide reaching consequences. It is possible that the cases may fail under Article 9 but still engage Article 14 protecting against discrimination.

One final point to consider is the apparent inconsistency between a government lawyer defending the finding against the claimants and David Cameron saying he would legislated to ensure workers are allowed to wear religious jewellery. The case is the claimants versus the United Kingdom, and the government therefore respond to the European Court of Human Rights on the basis of the judgements reached by the national court. These judgements all found against the claimants which is why in both the written submission and the hearing the government lawyer argued that religious freedom had not been infringed. It is therefore feasible, and in this case apparently so, that the government defending in court a position which if upheld by the European Court of Human Rights they would legislate to change. Likewise, the Equality and Human Rights Commission (EHRC) has said the courts may have interpreted Article 9 too narrowly in regards to Eweida and Chaplin.

The government (wearing both its legal and political hats), and the EHRC, have both suggested the courts reached the correct conclusion in Ladele and McFarlane. The EHRC initially suggested it might support all four cases, but following a public consultation back tracked and only supported the cases involving religious symbols.

While I have focused on the legal dimension and not the individual cases, it is worth noting that each case is complex with a variety of aspect in play, and taking position before a wide variety of pieces of law, employment regulations and individual employment policies and practices. Likewise, it is also possible that a finding against any of the claimants might not mean that public expression of Christianity is being restricted: an employer could have been within their rights to take the action they did irrespective of religious belief or action. Further, Article 9(2) allows for limitations on religious manifestation, and in a democratic society sometimes these limitations are justified, it is possible that they could be in one or more of these cases. All of which goes to show that great care will be required in responding to the judgement next week.

Kyrie, eleison – Lord, have mercy

Danny Webster 2 Comments

It is times like these that I wish writing could soothe all the sores that the world bears. Maybe if I could whip up a big enough batch of chocolate brownies then perhaps everything would be all right.

But I can’t, and as much as I wish it could I don’t think it would be enough.

The past couple of days have been too much, every where I turn I see conflict. I see violence and I see mendacity. The latest escalation of violence between Israel and Palestine has spurned another, more immediate incantation of dispute. One that is closer to me, one that draws me in, and one that makes me angry.

And that’s just twitter.

I’ve watched as a few incredibly passionate advocates voice adamant opinions and trade blows by virtue of asserted evidence, disputed claims and the occasional theological aside. That last one as a casual attempt to shut down conversation and prove their point beyond doubt.

And I have nothing to say. A couple of times today I hovered over the unfollow button ready to rid my timeline of their debate. I got even closer to pleading with them to give it a rest, but realised I’d end up drawn into a stream of replies I had neither the time nor inclination to engage in. It’s not that I don’t care, just that I don’t understand, and in that space of incomprehension the vitriol emitted from both sides of the debate pushes me towards a default position of ignorance informed only for a desire for reconciliation.

It places me in the naïve position of calling for an acknowledgement of the wrongs of both sides, it pushes me to call for both sides to cease the fighting. It almost takes me into the realm of Ellie Bartlett’s teacher who in the West Wing responded to her analysis of the problems of the Middle East with the retort “Wrong, it’s because it’s incredibly hot. And there’s no water.”

I am sure that I should be more informed, I am certain I am in no place to enter into the arguments of the rights and wrongs of decades of conflict based on millennia of history. But that doesn’t mean my basic plea lacks validity. There should be less killing.

I can go on quoting the West Wing, when challenged by Governor Richie in the debate President Bartlett says: “every once in a while, every once in a while, there’s a day with an absolute right and an absolute wrong, but those days almost always include body counts.” The problem comes when even on those days littered with body bags we can’t tell the right from the wrong.

What struck me as I observed the feuding played out in spurts of 140 characters, with vehement defence that each side’s calls for peace had more morality than the other, was: we can’t even keep peace in our discussions. What hope is there that there could be peace between the sides (even how they are described is disputed) in that hot, dry, place with centuries of animosity?

But of course there is a hope. There is a hope that in our most wicked and mendacious of ways, whether firing a rocket or a tweet filled with anger; we can cry Kyrie, eleison: Lord, have mercy.

And he will. For he must. Because he loves the world. And we long for that day.

That’s all I have right now. I have no judgement to offer. No words that will soothe, no mediation, no alternative perspective, no baked goods to dull the pain. Just a hope. The only hope.

The first shall be last and the last shall be first

Danny Webster Leave a comment

Today the next Archbishop of Canterbury was announced. In the New Year Justin Welby will leave his current post as Bishop of Durham and move south to take over from Rowan Williams as head of the Church of England and worldwide Anglican Communion. This is a big deal, it will matter a lot in the coming years who takes this role. And it seems to me they’ve chosen a good man, he cited the West Wing in the press conference after the appointment was officially made public, so that bodes well.

But that’s not what I’m writing about, I’ve already done so elsewhere, I did that yesterday afternoon. More I wanted to think about the mass of press releases and quotes that were bombarded at journalists and the twittering public at the strike of eleven this morning. Press officers furiously overriding their scheduled auto send or publish as Downing Street tweeted the official version of events ten minutes early. I should know, I was one of them.

Because the announcement had been rumoured for several days, and more or less confirmed by Wednesday evening, it gave everyone plenty of time to check his biography, scour his prior public pronouncements, draft quotes and get it all lined up for the official announcement. So by the time he took to the lectern in the Guard Room at Lambeth Palace to speak to the assembled journalists and many more as the pictures were broadcast live, the quotes were winging their way to the news desks and editors. Ruth Dickinson from Christianity Magazine tweeted a photo of her inbox.

The contrast struck me as the questions came in and were answered by Justin Welby with humility and grace. That here was a man who seemed to barely seek the post he was now set to take, that such inclination against preferment was almost a pre-requisite for the role. But there were hundreds tweeting their comments and statements at breakneck pace to grab the attention of any journalist struggling to fill their copy. Which is unlikely.

I’ve no doubt the quotes and the calls for prayer are sincere. I am certain that all those sending out their congratulations and best wishes really do think exactly what they are saying, it’s not the content that I’m a bit perturbed by. It’s the rush for preferment in the pages of the press. The mentality that says, here on one of the very few days when the church gets to dominate the main stream press on an issue of its choosing and in a way it decides, we end up trying to jostle to the left or the right of the man to gain some reflected glory if only one of those writing the story for the nationals might choose to use our quote.

In my own complicity I realise this stinks.

We should pray for Justin Welby, I think he sounds a fantastic man for the job, I hope that those quoted by the press will call others to do likewise. I hope that we will get behind a man taking on a position few would choose to carry, and if they did are likely unsuited for its burdens. I hope that he gets our support and our encouragement and not just as a way to segue into calling him to support our causes and views however noble they maybe.

The politics of doctrine

Danny Webster 8 Comments

The US presidential election is in full swing, and after a rather low key convention season spiced up only by Clint Eastwood and an empty chair it now looks like there is a proper race on the cards. Mitt Romney suffered a massive blow when footage of a meeting with major donors was released presenting his apparent views giving up on 47 per cent of the electorate. But any advantage gained by Obama was surrendered in his lacklustre debate performance. Even the swing states which looked like falling decisively for Obama are now up for grabs.

And in the past week or so two significant church figures have waded into the political fray with their more or less unequivocal support for Mitt Romney and the Republican Party.

I’ve said before and I will keep on saying so, politics cannot be separated from our religious beliefs. The US is famed for its separation of church and state, but this is a very different concept than separating politics from beliefs. The former is a structural arrangement where no church or faith has a institutional position above any others, the latter is the inevitable consequence of individuals with views, values and beliefs engaging in any democratic system.

To suggest that religious beliefs should not be involved in political decisions is to suggest that beliefs tagged ‘religious’ are worth less than other views, values or ideologies. It is to say they should have no place in politics and it marginalises religious beliefs at the expense of non religious, secular, values. Values which, I would argue (but will not do so here), however noble and agreeable are less rooted or sustainable.

All of this is a prelude to what is causing considerable discomfort as I observe the unfolding of the US election. I got in a little bit of hot water with some thoughts I threw out on this blog before the London Mayoral election earlier this year, in particular for stating my opposition to Christian political parties. Based on what I say above the question emerges: if the role of policies and ideologies in politics is to posit a view of the good life for individuals, communities and the nation, and that view of the good life for Christians stems principally from their religious beliefs why shouldn’t those beliefs come together to form a coherent political platform?

Furthermore, I want to say with some certainty that there is an important place for common and shared doctrine within the church and that we don’t each on our own decide what matters for our relationship with God. I also do not believe that doctrine should relate to solely ‘spiritual’ matters, for to draw such a distinction is to undermine the significance to the wider world which beliefs have. What I believe the Bible teaches, and is shared as the doctrine of the church, is not just good for individual believers or the community of the faithful but also all of society. So while my beliefs may be personal, they are also shared, and also, by their very nature need to be public.

And yet I do not think churches should back political platforms.

Last week I read an editorial in the Christian Post by Wayne Grudem and followed various links to find a four page document listing the views of ‘Party A’ and ‘Party B’ on 24 topics. This was in response to Pulpit Freedom Day which sought to provoke a judicial ruling on IRS regulations which restricted political statements from the pulpit but had been never tested in court. I was deeply uncomfortable as I read the editorial and despaired when I read the document in detail.

The landscape was further populated with controversy when Billy Graham issued a statement following a meeting with Mitt Romney that said everything possible to back him without giving a formal endorsement. The statement even ended: “I’ll do all I can to help you, and you can quote me on that”.

Wayne Grudem and Billy Graham are obviously entitled to vote for whoever they prefer, and they are also free to say so. They are free to join the campaign and even work specifically on outreach to churches on why one candidate is better than the other.

But they have both crossed a line. And that line is to suggest that there is only one candidate and party who Christians in good conscience should vote for.

I have read enough, although not all, of Wayne Grudem’s Politics According to the Bible to not be surprised by his position. Likewise Billy Graham is known to have been close to President Bush (both). There are three aspects of their statements where they mix partisan identity with religious belief in an unhelpful way.

Firstly, and this specifically applies to Wayne Grudem’s list of issues and party positions, it is a caricature of what the party positions are. The list is structured like a party political broadcast: ‘Party A is wonderful and does great things, Party B wants to kill all the kittens’. While the list doesn’t in itself tell you which side to support it is not an attempt to inform voters of the parties’ positions but to persuade them to vote for one side while parodying the other.

Secondly, both Wayne Grudem’s list and Billy Graham’s statement prioritise certain issues as the important voting pivots for Christians. When Billy Graham hails Mitt Romney’s strong moral values it is explained with reference to his opposition to abortion and same-sex marriage. Likewise while Wayne Grudem’s list is wider it reads as though designed to complement the Republican party platform. Their position ignores the fact that some Christians, while caring about those issues may consider the position of other candidates on other issues as an equally or more decisive factor.

Thirdly, they are using their positions as figures of authority within the American evangelical church to support political positions and particular candidates. This comes back to where I began, I think there are important common stances for the church to take and hold to, and the rule of teachers and preachers to inform and disciple is crucial. But when this transcends into discipling congregations into the correct way to vote it misses the mark.

Because politics is difficult, it is messy, and it is complicated. And political parties are populated by human beings who in their frailty and falleness will fail to achieve all that they might even wish to do. And like all of us their motives will be a mixture of the noble and the misguided. Even politicians with explicitly Christian identity will disappoint. When we attach our Christian identity to a political programme we position the role of government above the role of God. And the irony of US evangelical leaders doing this towards a party that disdains big government is not lost on me.

The overt support of a specific political party also confuses motives with methods. While there are differences in the intended ends between the candidates and their parties, on many issues the differences are in how to achieve those ends. Take tackling poverty for example, neither party would desire that people stay in situations where they cannot feed their family, but how to respond is not something we can use the Bible to draw specific policies from. Any attempt to do so, and this is what Wayne Grudem tries to do is, I’m afraid, an incredibly poor use of scripture.

I think that Christians should engage in politics, and I think they should join political parties, I think we should also live in an acute awareness that how our beliefs are worked out on the political stage will vary. And therefore, any attempt to take religious beliefs and turn them into a political platform is fraught with challenges and, I believe, inappropriate to be expounded from the pulpit.

The words and actions of many leading figures in the evangelical church offering support to the Republican Party misses one final fact. Many evangelical Christians vote Democrat regardless of what their leaders say. By using the pulpit for something that it is not there to do there is the risk of exacerbating the cleft between what congregation hear and what they do. Tell people to vote, tell congregations to join parties, even help them get information about the parties. But if you cannot do so in a non-partisan manner, keep it out of the pulpit.

The politics of decency and the art of saying sorry

Danny Webster 2 Comments

It seems as though you wait an age for an apology from a politician and then three come along at once.

It is the apology, or his multiple fumbling attempts at such, from Andrew Mitchell that has stolen a march on the Liberal Democrat conference and dominated headlines. Accusations surfaced at the end of last week of his foul mouthed tirade against police officers guarding the entrance to Downing Street for asking him to us a different gate for his bike. And as further reports have corroborated the original story and the full police log published in the Daily Telegraph I struggle to see how the Chief Whip’s half hearted apology cuts any ice, or how he can stay in his job.

If the report is wrong, either through mishearing – I suppose he could have said plod instead of pleb – or deliberate incorrect recording, then Andrew Mitchell needs to defend his position, but to do so looks like requiring a full admission that he did swear at the police officers. It also requires that he calls into question at least the diligence if not the repute of the officers specifically tasked with protecting senior members of the government. Doing either of these things make it incredibly difficult to maintain credibility and respect. And in order to fight this crusade for truth a government minister would have in any previous era resigned his post.

The alternative is that Andrew Mitchell did say the words recorded by the police officer. In this case he is either lying or relying on semantic differences between the accounts. If the aggression, swearing, condescension and disrespect of the original outburst was not enough to prompt his resignation, then lying in an attempt to cover up his misdemeanour surely is. And if it is not, then we should lament the state of our body politic.

Because it would entail the acceptance that it is okay to swear and put down those who seek to protect and assist you. And then consider a limited admission of guilt, while lying about certain more damaging parts, a suitable response.

It seems he rode through the original storm with Nick Clegg among those suggest a line drawn under the affair, but now it seems he may have lied in his initial response it might be that which counts for his downfall. But to say that it is the lying that matters most is an interesting chain of web 2.0 historical revisionism. Those calling for him to go for lying were just two days ago calling for him to go for the words he said.

I wrote for Threads last week about the toxicity of the religious right, especially in America, and how the hypocrisy is what frequently strikes the most damaging chord. I made the point that Boris is lauded for his authenticity when he swears at he rival in a lift. Maybe had Andrew Mitchell thrown his hands up and admitted a moment of madness he bitterly regrets and not denied an ounce of the claims against him he could have rode through the criticism.

But what about decency?

It seems a commodity too precious to be on public display.

In the case of Boris the public overlooks his marital indiscretions and his bumbling inclination to offend the populations of northern English cities and Pacific islands alike with his miscued rhetorical excess. But in doing so, and in taking more offence from words like ‘pleb’ than others I refuse to type, do we surrender our aspirations to a politics defined by respect, decency, care and compassion?

Does the high water mark of authenticity legitimate actions which we might want to take another look at? Is it enough to be true to yourself, is it sufficient to be transparent and not deceptive?

I think not. I think it is fair to demand standards of behaviour, I think it is reasonable to ask that our leaders act in ways which show respect and decency, care and compassion. And I think this means not swearing at police officers.

Beliefs that dare not speak their name

Danny Webster 17 Comments

I’ve hesitated long and hard about whether to say anything about the debate over gay marriage and the government’s proposals. I’ve held back for a couple of reasons. My work has a view on this. And it seems impossible to say anything that casts doubt on the validity of allowing gay couples to marry without being denounced as a homophobe and a bigot.

Because I don’t think that the plans are a good idea. And that probably makes me unpopular, both with those outside and some inside the church.

Today on twitter I’ve observed a lot of people despairing at the Church of England’s response to the consultation in which they urge the government to rethink changing marriage in the way that is proposed.

Because that is what the government are planning on doing. Whether you support the proposals or not, if these plans are implemented marriage will be different in a couple of years time to what it is now.

I want to make a few scattered comments about this whole escapade. I want to do so in the carefullest possible way as this is a subject that is not detached from people’s individual lives, emotions and identity. Maybe it would help by pulling out some of the slightly spurious points often made against those who would prefer that marriage remained as between a man and a woman.

I believe that there are ways to live that are better than other ways to live. And I know that this means that for some people it will seem as though I’m criticising the way that they choose to live. But I think that sexual relationship should only take place between men and women, and between one of each in the context of marriage. And marriage matters because it is placing the union between two people before God and under his authority. It is about submitting not only to each other but principally to God.

And as far as I can see that means we must do our best to live lives that honour God. Even if that means doing things we find hard, and not doing things which otherwise we may choose to do. For devout Christians who experience same sex attraction may well choose to put their belief in and devotion to God before that, and choose to live another way. This is not something I pretend to understand. It is not something that I pretend is easy. It is not something that I would pretend is not counter to the way that the world would choose to order things.

But as Peter Ould tweeted earlier today, “The moment you argue that Church should ‘catch up with society’ you demonstrate your theology is of man and not God”. Because while the church has so often got so many things so very wrong, and in it’s dealing with gay and lesbian people at times its actions have been horrific, that does not mean it should adjust its view because something is deemed out of fashion, or even intolerant.

The church is accused of inconsistency, and it has so often been guilty of that, but that’s not a reason to drop all of the values it holds to and rush towards a lowest common denominator that does its best to keep everyone onside. The church is told to not think that something is wrong, all the while told to stand stronger against other things that are wrong. Told to worry more about poverty and the injustices of the world because holding a view on sexuality will make people think the church is out of touch. It’s curious that at a time when morality is coming back into vogue, when questions are being asked about the value of money in our lives, or the isolation created by ongoing technological  advancement, the church is told to pipe down.

Many have commented today that the church accepts divorce but opposes gay marriage. Often that’s the case. Divorce isn’t what God wants, but sometimes it’s the best way out of difficult circumstances. Confusing? Yes, but often handling the tensions in the way that we live will look like that. God is redemptive, and although marriages should stay together many will not. So there is hope in the hardest of situations, which is why divorce should be allowed. To introduce gay marriage is to create something new, and in doing so change something old.

And then there is the West Wing argument. About shellfish and mixed fabrics. It’s a neat little charge but it misses any attempt to understand the purposes of different Old Testament laws. This isn’t the place but I think a decent case can be made for those laws to keep people clean before a holy God and therefore not needed since Jesus’ death and resurrection have made us all clean; those laws given to aid the governance of Israel (many of which we can learn from without direct application), and those laws which give us moral guidance on how best to live.

The particular proposals that the government make suggest that a distinction can be made between civil and religious marriage. That’s nonsense, there are civil and religious weddings but they are just two different doors to the same room.

The proposals also allude to the fact that some people are banned from marriage, that’s just not true, anyone can get married, but only to someone of the opposite sex. Trying to allow gay couples to marry is trying to make marriage into something that it simply is not. On one level marriage will always be marriage, and nothing that the government says will change that. It’s like trying to suggest that the government should pass a law allowing two floor bungalows to be built.

A big part of me wants to stay quite about this debate. I want to shut up. Turn off my computer, deactivate twitter for a while and stay away while the government push their case, opponents dismiss it and are subsequently tarred and feather in their virtual stocks.

But that’s actually what makes me speak up and say my piece because I shouldn’t be shamed into silence. It is what worries me most if these proposals go through: that I won’t be able to hold, and promote, a view that marriage is and should be between a man and a woman. I’m not expecting every one to agree with me, much as I don’t expect everyone to agree with many of the things that I believe. When they do perhaps I’m a little too closely following the crowd.

Do I think that the world will collapse if gay marriage is constructed ex nihilo within the legal system? I don’t. Do I think that sometimes Christians have used language in their opposition that has made the charge of bigot stick a little easier? Yes.

But I don’t think that the church, and other opponents, should stay quiet when the government are introducing something which isn’t in keeping with what they believe is best for the world around them. And a world in which Christians are committed to making God’s kingdom come. That means fighting poverty and promoting relationships that reflect God’s desire. It means speaking truth in a way that people see God’s love and truth in the content of what you say and in the heart that lies behind it.

And this is not easy. And I’ve not really dealt with many of the issues in play but this is already plenty long enough.

More information about this topic and a briefing on the Evangelical Alliance’s position can be found here. And you can respond to the consultation here.

What do you think, do you think Christians should back gay marriage? Should they stay quiet about their views? Or loudly make their opposition know?

A biblical framework for understanding politics – part 4

Danny Webster 2 Comments

[update: the full series is available as a PDF here]

In the final post in this series we will take a step beyond considering how we should view politics and government and set out in hazy terms what such a government should do.

If you’re only just joining us I would suggest taking a moment to catch up. In the first post I explored the key characteristics of political authority, in the second how we should view government, and in the third what the Lordship of Christ meant for all this.

The purpose of government

We’ve already looked at government as an ambiguous concept, caught in the tensions between it’s created status and its fallen nature, and between it’s legitimate role and it’s evident limits.

The exercise of political authority is often equally dubious. These tensions exist in what the government seeks to do and how it does it.

But we’re invited to the task of living in these tensions and working to bring the redemptive hope of Christ into the outworking of government and across all of society.

Here are three broad areas which the Bible suggests should be within the scope of government.

Commitment to human equality

It’s astonishing that the church has let the concept of equality be snatched from its grasp, because equality is such a fundamental part of biblical teaching.

We are all equal under God, this is true in our created status. It is true in the universality of sin, and it is true in our universal need for redemption.

Jesus was radically inclusive in his ministry, he deliberately sided with the poor and the disenfranchised. He overturned the social order and he overturned the tables of those who would profit from the poorest.

But that wasn’t were equality began. In the laws for Israel there was a strong seem of justice running through them. The laws for the ownership of property and slaves ensured that intergenerational social mobility was not hampered.   Israel was warned against taking a king and the prophets railed against the injustices perpetrated by them.

In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians he exhorts them to generosity, and he uses the old Testament portrait of the manna provided in the desert to point out that those who gathered much did not have too much and those who gathered little did not have too little.

For the common good

All governments promote and seek some form of common good. What this looks like is different in different contexts and sometimes gets lost in the pursuit of just judgement.

Thomas Aquinas noted that the common good existed for the good of the people and not for the good of the ruler. For much of history this was not the way that political authority operated.

The concept of the common good is based on the idea that a community is more than a series of disconnected individuals, it works upon the coming together of those people and their working together for a common cause.

While Christianity has often emphasised individual choice, especially in relation to salvation, it has also affirmed the need for community structures that enable us to live fulfilled lives as part of wider society.

It is the role of government to promote such structures while making sure that they do not dominate them. When the common good comes to the fore it makes sure that no one suffers permanent social exclusion.

This means that particular attention should be paid to those who are liable to experience such exclusion. David McIlroy comments, “The weight of the classical tradition is solidly behind the prioritising of the needs of the weakest, in whom it has been recognised that we see the face of Christ with special clarity.”

Exercise of just judgement

The third core function of government, alongside a commitment to equality and working for the common good is the exercise of just judgement.

The Christian tradition has long acknowledged that the Christian ruler must discern the requirements of Christian moral teaching within and for the complex realities of the society that has to be governed.

This means that there are very few absolutes of what a governing system should look like. I think if we cast our minds through history we can see the rights and wrongs of political systems of every hue. Including those who explicitly reject Christian teaching, and those claiming to govern in its name.

It is not possible to take judgements in a neutral space. It is simply one of the myths of contemporary political thought that there exists a space where all prejudices and conceptions of the common good can be removed and a judgement reached that abides by the rules of justice and nothing else.

Instead, we have to accept that there are many competing claims to subjective morality, and these require us to offer a substantive argument for why the values we hold, and the truths we believe, are for the common good.

And we need to keep one eye on the fact that human concepts of justice will only ever be limitedly just. This means that that the capability of government to promote the good, and exercise judgement, while present, is limited.

Conclusion

The apostles chose to reinforce the radical message of Jesus’ death and resurrection and refused to accept the absolute claims to authority that the Roman Empire demanded.

But they didn’t reject the fact that it had authority, they just saw its authority as limited. They continued to remind the authorities of their duties and responsibilities and reflected the role of the prophets in the Old Testament.

We must remember that neither tyranny nor anarchy are what God desires. The institutions of political authority have good in them as they reflect the nature of our created God. But they are also fallen because they are formed by fallen humans.

But most of all, we must hold to the hope for the ultimate redemption of all things and how we are commanded to have a role in that rebuilding.

A biblical framework for understanding politics – part 3

Danny Webster 3 Comments

Government in the New Testament

In the first two posts in this series I set out firstly the concept of political authority in theological terms, and then in yesterday’s post what this meant for how we should view government: as both legitimate but limited. I’ve also briefly touched already on the position of government and political authority in New Testament teaching, but here I want to delve a bit deeper. In particular I want to explore what impact a full understanding of the Lordship of Christ has on our engagement in politics.

Tom Wright has written extensively on this subject and a theme he returns to time and again is that Christianity has underplayed the political purpose in Christian thought, and as a result misread key aspects of the gospels and epistles.

This revolves around an incomplete understanding of what Jesus achieved through his death and resurrection.

If we understand Jesus as Lord, and subsequently understand that Caesar, or what ever contemporary ruler has taken his place in different times and contexts throughout history, are not Lord, we are free to step back and take a broader view of what Lordship means.

We’ve already referenced Jesus before Pilate, and his declaration that whatever political authority he exercised had been given to him.

 

You see, Israel wanted a liberator. They wanted a saviour who would vanquish their foes, free them from oppression and enforce the laws that were ignored.

But the coming king did not look like that.

Jesus did not ride into Jerusalem with chariots to overthrow the Roman oppressors. The Messiah who for hundreds of years they had awaited did not back the Pharisees and insist that the law, in all its detailed regulations governing every aspect of daily life, was strictly enforced. This king did not even remove himself from the enemy occupiers to create a kingdom on earth without blemish.

For Jesus those who broke the rules and those who enforced the rules were both equally wrong.

He confounded his critics and he confused his supporters.

The way that Jesus engaged in public life was completely different to anything they expected.

So when Jesus came before Pilate we see very clearly the meeting of two different kingdoms, the kingdom of the Roman Empire and the political authority that it exercised. And the Kingdom of God fully represented in the person of Jesus.

The point that Jesus’ kingdom is not of this world does not mean that it is instead an entirely spiritual one.

No, Jesus’ kingdom is not derived from this world, but it is designed for this world.

Tom Wright puts it like this: “Precisely because it is the kingdom of the wise creator God who longs to heal this world, whose justice is aimed at restoration rather than punitive destruction, it can neither be advanced nor attained by the domineering, bullying fighting kingdom methods employed in merely earthly kingdoms”.

This is how Jesus redefines what Lordship means.

Yet at exactly this point he also declares support for the existence of earthly rulers. In affirming that Pilate does have authority he is advocating government over anarchy.

The worst form of government is not dictatorship but no government at all. I’d suggest that even the very worst ruler is better than a world where we are all our own tyrants and the weak are crushed in our desire to achieve the best for ourselves that we can.

God did not send his son to destroy the world but to rescue it from evil. And the structures of human society are part of the good of creation that he came to redeem.

During Jesus’ ministry the disciples squabbled over who would get to sit on his left and his right, and Jesus sees all this as an adventure in missing the point.

He radically restates that the rules of this earth lord it over their subjects but under his kingdom the greatest must be the servant. Mark 10.45 offer the conclusion to this dramatic reversal: “The son of man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many”.

This is more than just a statement about the work of Jesus on the cross.

It is a radically counter imperial statement. To quote Tom Wright once again: “it is an invitation to understand the atonement itself … as involving God’s victory not so much over the world and its powers but over the worldly ways of power.”

Romans 8 gives us a fuller picture of our hope for a new creation. It upstage the hope of Rome that is entering a new stage of its fruitfulness. It goes beyond our wildest dreams as to what a new creation could look like.

And this links back to what we’ve already considered: the ultimate recourse of an earthly authority is to take away life.

Jesus’ victory over death, and the promise of a future resurrection, makes this exercise of power somewhat futile. Death has, after all, been defeated.

The Lordship of Christ needs to be considered alongside the biblical themes of creation and judgement. Together, in harmony, they show us the good news. That the God who made the world now rules the world through his son Jesus.

In the closing section of Romans, 15.12, Paul echoes Isaiah 11 saying “Jesus is the one who rises to rule over the nations, and in him the nations shall hope”.

This Lordship is not just over heaven, it is not just for the ultimate future when everything will be restored to Him. It is also for the present time, for this penultimate future where we catch a glimpse of God’s coming kingdom.

And in response we are called to be the bringers of hope. The carriers of healing to a broken world. And show that Christ’s rule is good news for all.

Read on: the fourth and final part in the series

A biblical framework for understanding politics – part 2

StandardDanny Webster 3 Comments

In yesterday’s post I began to set out a framework for understanding and engaging with politics. I started out with a high level approach and showed that political authority has three key characteristics. It is created as good, it is fallen, and it has the potential for redemption.

Next, let’s have a look at government in particular, and I want to suggest that the key way of understanding it is to view it as both legitimate and it is limited. First let’s take a look at why it is legitimate.

The nature of government

government is legitimate

We’ve already considered that political authority is a concept put in place by God, but government is the outworking of that political authority.

The writers of the Old Testament point to a God that was the creator of the heavens and the earth and as such held authority over all things. Psalm 82 tells us that He is supreme over all nations and their gods.

A number of times in the Old Testament God humbles the created gods that are put up to oppose him. This happens with the prophet Baal when the Ark of the Covenant is placed in the same tent and again for King Nebuchadnezzar, where in Daniel 4.34 he was forced to admit that God’s dominion rules forever.

The psalmist recognised that the coming Messiah, the offspring of King David would exercise God’s universal rule over all nations through one person. (Ps 2.4-6)

If we move into the New Testament we see the same picture reflected. The apostles saw Jesus as having complete authority and his rule placed him as a threat to the worldly rule of Caesar. (Acts 17.7)

In 1 Peter 2.13-17 and in Romans 13.1-7 government is shown as legitimate and established by God, and as a result we should submit to it.

What’s interesting is that in both 1 Peter and in Romans the preceding sections could cast doubt on our submission to political authorities but the writers let this tension linger. Despite the challenges and potential problems, government is shown as legitimate.

The role of government is cast in broad terms: it is for commending the right and punishing the wrong.

Julian Rivers addresses this: “Anyone who fulfils the task of government has a divine mandate for that task. At some point presumably a claim of authority loses its legitimacy but that point is not identified.

Throughout scripture, in both the Old and the New Testament we see that human government is legitimate.

government is subject to the law and held to account

Governments are legitimate because they are accountable to God.

In the fourth century when Emperor Constantine was declared God’s representative on earth Gregory of Nazianzus insisted that precisely because Christians understand God to be Trinity, no human ruler can ever reflect God adequately.

And it has been a central claim of political theology down the ages that Kings remain answerable to God for their actions.

This conviction runs counter to the regular proclamation that ‘God is on our side’, whatever side that might be.

A core biblical theme is that each individual is accountable to God for the actions they take while on earth, and that has to include our political activity. (Matt 25.31-46)

As well as being accountable to God an important practical outworking of legitimate government is a human structure of accountability which gives space for critique from those who have some distance from the immediate decision making. But we’ll come onto that in a little while.

government is limited

The mandate for government is to commend the right and to punish the wrong. Both simple sounding and asking an awful lot.

We have perhaps got rather used to a picture of limited government, and in particular in non-conformist church circles, to not view the role of government as promoting true religion.

But in scripture we see a holistic picture that calls people away from a life that is focused on the self and towards reconciliation with the one true God.

We also are given a picture of new creation where there will be no more death or mourning, where everything will be made new.

So it’s not immediately obvious that the role of Christians, whether in politics, the judiciary, the public sector, or anywhere else, is not to give themselves fully to the work of building God’s kingdom and trying to achieve this through the institutions of government. It is not immediately clear what limits there are to the potential for government in meeting this goal.

However, government is necessarily limited because of the methods that are at its disposal. The final recourse of a human authority is the taking of life, and this sits awkwardly with a King who rejected the way of the sword.

It is also limited because you cannot coerce people into doing something. At the end of the day, you can take away liberty, you can confiscate property, but if you only ever end up taking life to enforce your rule you lack the legitimacy that comes with consent to be governed.

This does not mean that government is rendered useless, but it does provide a cautionary tale in case we start to think that government can do all that we might want it to do.

There’s a further limitation, and that comes from an understanding of the law, the law given to Israel.

We see particularly clearly in Paul’s writings that there are limits to the law. It can show people how far short they fall from God’s perfect plan, but the law clearly failed to make Israel righteous and we too should be careful that we don’t invest too much faith in a system that is after all a human construct.

And as we mentioned earlier, government is subject to the same affect of our fallen nature that our own inability to be righteous on our own so clearly demonstrates.

government should be diffuse

A further limitation on government is that power should be diffuse, and by this I mean that it should be spread out rather than concentrated in one place or person.

This works itself out in two ways. Firstly political rule is not the only form of authority that we live with. There are other institutions that the Bible clearly values and it is essential that we understand the roles that the family and the church play, as well as our own freedom to self-govern, when we consider what we want the state to do.

The church exercises authority, and the authority that it exercises comes from God and not from political authorities.

This cracks open the idea that political government is the only source of authority. The family is a further structure that is given a crucial role in ensuring order and peace. In the marriage union we find another foundational social unit.

The second way that this works out is that political authority is not just not the only form of authority, but within that authority the operation of power should be diffuse.

While there is no mandate for a particular form of government under the new covenant we are told that we should live as salt and light among all people.

We can learn from the practice of Israel. God put structures in place through tribes and priests, he gave them judges, he provided them with a king when they wanted to be like other countries. He sent prophets to call the kings back to account.

The Kings which Israel so desperately desired were joined by prophets who held them to account. Power was not given to a single person, and no particular model worked better than the former.

Even the very best of people, on their way to full and final redemption through Christ are still broken and inclined to act in a way that serves themselves and not the good of all.

So political authority is created good, it is fallen and it has the potential for redemption.

We should also acknowledge that while there is clearly a legitimate role for government this role should be limited, and it should be diffuse rather than concentrated in one particular place or person.

Read on: Part 3 – Government in the New Testament