Jesus and the Powers: Christian Political Witness in an Age of Totalitarian Terror and Dysfunctional Democracies
N. T. Wright and Michael F. Bird have written a concise primer on Christian political engagement. This is a worthwhile book for any Christian concerned with a proper Christian political witness. The overall message for readers is that they should reaffirm the tradition of liberal democracy as the most plausible political option for our times.
Wright and Bird state that “Jesus and the Powers has one objective: to say that, in an age of ascending autocracies, in a time of fear and fragmentation, amid carnage and crises, Jesus is King, and Jesus’ kingdom remains the object of the Church’s witness and work….Such a conviction means that the Church needs to understand how it relates to empires biblical and burgeoning, how to build for the kingdom in our cities and suburbs; to understand the time for obedience to the State and the time for disobedience to the State” (xiii-xiv).
Wright is currently Senior Research Fellow at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford University; Bird is Deputy Principal and Lecturer in Theology at Ridley College in Melbourne, Australia. Both authors write from a broadly Reformed vantage point. Bird has explicitly called himself Reformed, while Wright’s upbringing is in the Reformed wing of the Church of England. Both are Anglican New Testament scholars. While they express hope that their book will be valuable to all Christians worldwide, they recognize that they write as Christians from economically-developed English-speaking democracies and that most of their readers are likely similarly situated.
Wright and Bird begin their discussion with a restatement of Wright’s narrative of the coming of the Kingdom. What did Jesus mean when he proclaimed the coming of the Kingdom? What was the “good news” (euangelion)? The first three chapters articulate Wright and Bird’s account of the biblical witness concerning the coming of the Kingdom: its Old Testament roots, Jesus’ proclamation, and Paul and other New Testament writers’ account of how the church and the powers relate. Space considerations prevent a full summary but it restates Wright’s long-stated conviction that the New Testament’s kingdom language should not be de-politicized. That is, to be citizens of the Kingdom of God has earthly political implications. In short, Jesus’ proclamation of the Kingdom announces that Israel’s exile is at an end; the true King has arrived. The apostles proclaim that Jesus is Lord; that means Caesar is not. “The Church’s kingdom-vocation is not only what it says to the world, but is also what the Church does within and for the sake of the world” (7).
Wright and Bird embed the task of Christian political witness within an inaugurated eschatology (their term). “The divine judgment which will hold all rulers and authorities to account in the end is anticipated in the spirit-driven witness of the Church to those same authorities in the present time….In other words, it is a central part of the Church’s task, in the power and leading of the spirit, to hold up a mirror to worldly power, to hold authorities to account” (63; italics in original). However, the Church’s task is not just to be a mirror, to offer an alternative vision: it is to be transformative (68).
In the next four substantive chapters, Wright and Bird explore the implications of their biblical account. Wright and Bird contend that we will not have an adequate account of Christian political witness if we do not keep together the cross and the kingdom. They point out that some individuals or congregations tend to focus on the cross (thus emphasizing atonement, forgiveness, etc.) while others focus on kingdom (thus emphasizing healing, transformative love, etc.). Put a bit polemically, conservative and liberal Christians tend to emphasize one or the other. However, Wright and Bird contend, we need both; neither makes sense without the other. “The Gospels tell the story of God becoming King, in King Jesus, and the crucifixion is the centrepiece in that story” (80). “Ultimately, the cross is the sharp edge of kingdom-redefinition, just as the kingdom, in its redefined form, is the ultimate meaning of the cross” (81).
Wright and Bird devote several chapters to various aspects of Christian political engagement such as a theology of politics and power, the nature of Christian obedience to the state, and Christianity and democracy. In general, Wright and Bird recommend mainstream Christian positions on these issues, seeking to highlight the legitimate role of the state and politics while recognizing the limits of the claims of politics.
Wight and Bird contend that Christian political witness means building for the Kingdom. That is, in the eschaton God will build upon and perfect what Christ’s followers do in this age. Our discipleship is of permanent significance (85-86). Some readers may push back by wondering if Wright and Bird overstate the continuity between this age and the age to come. Some positions, such as the Reformed “Two Kingdoms” approach, posit a stronger discontinuity. Does that make a difference in how a Christian approaches the political order? If there is little or no “carryover” from this age to the next, do we spend time building the Kingdom, or witnessing to it, in the political realm? Is that wasted effort? Is politics more ameliorative in nature?
In the chapter on democracy, Wright and Bird emphasize the need for consensus from below, a shared social vision. But for this consensus to happen we need a shared narrative enabling social cohesion (155). Wright and Bird contend that the Christian narrative contributes to this story by fostering a concern for the common good (155-156). I am not sure they are consistent here. Christianity may indeed have a narrative that explains why we should be concerned for the common good, but is it a shared narrative? On the one hand, it seems safe to say that this narrative is not shared; we in fact live in a post-Christian society. On the other hand, it is a post-Christian society and hence its inhabitants bear the memory of that narrative. Do Wright and Bird think this narrative will continue to resonate with a post-Christian culture? Presumably the task of evangelization implies seeking an increased acceptance of this narrative. They conclude by recommending American law professor John Inazu’s “confident pluralism” proposal. In a liberal democracy, the reality is there are going to be multiple beliefs and ways of life with which we do not agree. Yet, Christians are still called to the public square; are called to find ways to live together in mutual flourishing despite our differences.
Wright and Bird cover a lot of territory regarding various difficult areas of Christian political engagement. Numerous references in the footnotes enable interested readers to follow up in greater depth. In short, our authors commend liberal democracy as a historical outworking of Christian practical reason that still serves us well today.
Thanks for this, Dan. I think that you get to the core of Wright and Bird’s constructive proposal, which I find very persuasive. At the level of application, of course, differences may emerge. You identify one of these by asking whether we can indeed presume the existence of a shared meta-narrative of the common good within a secularized, pluralistic society. The authors seem confident that an arrangement like the Anglican establishment can indeed articulate such a vision, which they call “something transcendent yet translatable” (156), without either compromising its gospel or imposing its hegemony. On the other hand, they are rightly horrified by the rise of contemporary “Christian Nationalism” (129 ff.). Do they successfully maintain that delicate balance?