The Myth of a Christian Nation

by Gregory A. Boyd

  Not only this, but we know that however good a particular version of the kingdom of the world may be, it does not hold the ultimate answer to the world’s problems. It may indeed be better in certain respects at maintaining law, order, and justice, for which we should be thankful. But the kingdom-of-God citizen knows that the world is not going to be fundamentally transformed by the “power over” use of the sword. We know that love, peace, and justice will not be experienced on a global scale until the kingdom of God is permanently established, until human nature is fundamentally transformed, and until the corrupting influence of demonic powers is finally destroyed. Take it on God’s authority if it’s not already obvious to you: the ultimate hope of the world lies not in human, kingdom-of-the-world wisdom, but in the advancement of God’s kingdom and the return of Jesus Christ!

  In fact, the kingdom-of-God citizen should know that, far from holding the ultimate answer to the world’s problems, even the best versions of the kingdom of the world are part of the world’s problem. The fundamental problem in the world is that fallen people trust “power over” rather than “power under,” coercion rather than love. Because we are in bondage, we tend to preserve and promote our self-interests with force. Far from resisting (let alone transforming) this fallen tendency, even the best versions of the kingdom of the world have to capitalize on it.

  Every version of the kingdom of the world defends itself and advances its cause by rallying the self-interest of its citizens into a collective tribal force that makes each citizen willing to kill and be killed for what it believes to be the good of the society. It survives and advances by uniting and motivating its subjects around their distinct collective identity, ideals, self-interest, and desire for security—over and against any individuals or governments whose own tribal identity, ideals, self-interest, and desire for security might impinge on or threaten their own. To this end, every version of the kingdom of the world demonizes its enemies when necessary to generate the motivation to go to war and to convince those who must spill blood that their cause is righteous.

  It is this “us-them” mindset that makes conflict inevitable, as Homer clearly saw. So long as people are willing to advance their self-interest by force, and so long as their sense of identity, worth, and security is rooted in their national, ethnic, religious, or political distinctives (their “tribal identity”)—there will be violence and injustice. Until the kingdom of God transforms the entire globe, conflict is inevitable. This is not in any way to suggest that kingdom-of-God people should not pray and strive for peace in the world, for we are called to be peacemakers (Matt. 5:9). Though we are not “of” the world, we are “in” it. But we must also remember that the essential problems of the world, including its inescapable tendency toward violent conflict, will not be finally resolved until human nature is fundamentally transformed by the global establishment of the kingdom of God.

  Only when every knee bows and every tongue confesses the loving lordship of Christ (Phil. 2:10–11); only when Christ has transformed our hearts into his likeness (Rom. 8:29; 2 Cor. 3:18; 4:4; Phil. 3:21), and only when everything in heaven and on earth has been purged by the fire of God’s loving judgment (2 Peter 3:7, 10, 12) will the fundamental problems of the world be eradicated. And the only way to move toward this goal is for kingdom-of-God citizens to exercise “power under” rather than “power over.” It happens only as the mustard seed of the kingdom of God (cf. Matt. 13:31–32) grows through individual and corporate replications of Calvary.

  JESUS IN POLITICALLY TROUBLED TIMES

  Jesus’ life and ministry consistently preserved the radical uniqueness of the kingdom he came to establish, and as those whose life mission is to mimic Jesus, we are called to do the same. It wasn’t always easy for him, and it’s never easy for us. Indeed, in the next chapter we shall see that preserving the distinctness of the kingdom of God has always been the most important and most difficult task for the church—as well as the task we have most consistently failed at.

  To appreciate the importance of preserving this distinction, we need to understand that the Jewish world Jesus was born into was a political hotbed. There was constant political and cultural friction between the ruling Romans and their Jewish subjects, and most Jews despised the fact that they, “the true people of God,” were tyrannically ruled by God-denying, immoral pagans. Most Jews longed for the appearing of a political messiah, like David, who would, by military force and the supernatural assistance of God, restore Israel to its glory days. They saw it as a profound insult both to themselves and to their God that they weren’t an independent, sovereign nation.

  At the same time, first-century Jews were deeply divided over how to respond. On one extreme were the zealots who believed that Jews should take up arms against the Romans, initiate war, and trust that God would intervene to give them victory. Their battle cry was something like, “We must vanquish our enemies and take Israel back for God.” On the other extreme were the “conservatives” who thought it best not to trouble the waters but rather cooperate with the Roman government as much as possible. In between these two extremes were a number of positions, distinguished from each other by how they answered an assortment of questions regarding how much or how little Jews should acquiesce to or resist their Roman rulers.

  Should Jews obey Roman laws, and if so, which ones? Should they pay taxes to Caesar, thereby supporting his tyrannical regime? Should they participate in the Roman army and help defend its empire? Should they pledge their allegiance to their reigning government by paying homage to statues of emperors? Should they be educated in Roman (Hellenistic) literature and by Roman teaching methods? Should they participate in nationalistic festivities? How much Roman culture could they accept or reject? The list of particular questions was almost endless.

  Into this intensely politicized situation Jesus was born. And not surprisingly, throughout his ministry people tried to get him to weigh in on these issues. They were expecting a political messiah who would answer their questions, solve their problems, and liberate them. What they didn’t understand—what even Jesus’ own disciples were slow to learn—was that Jesus hadn’t come to answer their kingdom-of-the-world questions or solve their kingdom-of-the-world problems. As Bonhoeffer insightfully noted:

  Jesus concerns Himself hardly at all with the solution of worldly problems. When He is asked to do so His answer is remarkably evasive…. Indeed, He scarcely ever replies to men’s questions directly, but answers rather from a quite different plane. His word is not an answer to human questions and problems; it is the answer of God to the question of God to man. His word is essentially determined not from below but from above. It is not a solution, but a redemption.6

  Jesus didn’t come to give us the Christian answer to the world’s many sociopolitical quandaries, and he didn’t come to usher in a new and improved version of the kingdom of the world. His agenda was far more radical, for he came to redeem the world and ultimately overthrow the kingdom of the world by ushering in an alternative kingdom. He came not to give solutions, tweak external regulations, and enforce better behavior. He rather came to transform lives from the inside out by winning people over to the reign of God’s sovereign love, thereby rendering the “power over” tactics of the kingdom of the world unnecessary.

  In the words of Andre Trocme, “Jesus came to bring a revolution, one that would impact every sphere of existence, including social and power relations…. He did not want to reform political structures but wanted everything to come under God’s rulership.”7 Echoing that idea, Lee Camp writes:

  Rather than accepting the existing social institutions as they stood, and reforming them from within; rather than seeking to establish top-down control and then dominate the masses; rather than propagating a merely “spiritual” message, Jesus instead set about to proclaim and embody a new order, the new Kingdom. And so he called disciples to join him in the endeavor.8

  Jesus’ mission wasn’t to improve the old; his mission, and the mi
ssion he gave his disciples, was to embody the new—an entirely new way of doing life. It is life lived within the reign of God; life centered on God as the sole source of one’s security, worth, and significance; life lived free from self-protective fear; and life manifested in Calvary-like service to others. His promise is that as his disciples manifest the unique beauty and power of this life, it will slowly and inconspicuously—like a mustard seed—grow and take over the garden.

  GIVING TO GOD WHAT BELONGS TO GOD

  Given how politicized his environment was, it is nothing short of amazing how thoroughly Jesus preserved the distinctness of the kingdom he came to bring. He refused to allow his unique kingdom to be co-opted by the kingdom of the world. He refused to let people’s political and ethical concerns set his agenda. Instead, he wisely transformed every encounter into an opportunity to advance the kingdom of God.

  For example, at several points in his ministry some of Jesus’ opponents tried to entrap him in one of the hottest political topics of the day—the issue of paying taxes. They desperately wanted to thin out the crowd that was following him, and they knew that whatever side Jesus aligned himself with on this debate, he would alienate many in the crowd who held a different political opinion. But Jesus never bit the bait. Rather, he always found a way to move the discussion to a deeper level—a kingdom-of-God level.

  In one instance, Jesus responded to the question of whether Jews should pay taxes or not by holding up a coin and asking, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” It was, of course, the emperor’s. Jesus concluded, “Give…to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and [give] to God the things that are God’s” (Matt. 22:20–22).

  To grasp the ironic brilliance of Jesus’ response, it’s helpful to know that the Jews of this time were deeply offended by currency that bore the image of the emperor. They saw it not only as egotistical on the part of the emperor but also as a direct violation of the commandment against making images (Ex. 20:4; Lev. 26:1).9 Only God can make an image of himself, and he did so when he made humans (Gen. 1:26–27).

  Jesus ingeniously linked the issue of pagan egotism and idolatry with the issue of paying taxes. With a tinge of sarcasm (I imagine Jesus with a wry smile giving this illustration), Jesus was in essence saying, “You of course believe this coin is an egotistical and idolatrous offense to God. So why should we who are God’s people fight with each other over how much of this we should keep or give back to the egotistical, idol-making offenders?” The thing people should rather be concerned with, Jesus is saying, is whether or not they are giving to God what bears his image and what therefore belongs wholly to him—namely, their very lives. Indeed, Jesus was ironically suggesting that an inappropriate preoccupation with what we should do with Caesar’s image may reflect a heart that is insufficiently preoccupied with what should be done with God’s image. Even if someone comes up with the “correct” position on paying taxes (is there one?), what good does it do her if she loses her soul (Mark 8:36)?

  In this way Jesus wisely used the kingdom-of-the-world issue with its limited and divisive kingdom-of-the-world options as a springboard to pose the kingdom-of-God question and the kingdom-of-God option. He was demonstrating, once again, that he hadn’t come to resolve the ambiguous and controversial issues that characterize the kingdom of the world. He rather came to offer all a radical alternative way of doing life, answering a completely different set of questions concerned with living under the reign of God.

  GUARDING AGAINST GREED

  The same sort of wisdom is manifested in Jesus’ response to the man who wanted him to settle a family matter. The man said to Jesus, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me” (Luke 12:13). The man apparently was feeling cheated by the governing Jewish law that gave the eldest son the right to disperse the family’s inheritance, and he wanted Jesus to do something about it. He wanted him to use his public clout to force his brother to share, but Jesus refused to resolve his dilemma.

  “Friend,” Jesus said, “who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” (Luke 12:14). He was in essence asking, “Do I look like your lawyer?” Jesus would not act as this man’s legal counselor or his brother’s ethical advisor, for these roles and issues lay outside the singular reason Jesus came to earth.

  There was something, however, that was within the domain of Jesus’ mission, and Jesus used the man’s question as a springboard to address it. “Take care!” he told the man while the crowd listened. “Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15). However we resolve our ambiguous legal and ethical issues, Jesus was saying, the important thing is our heart and motives. For even if a person succeeds in improving the legal system and resolving particular ethical quagmires, it matters nothing if they continue to think that life consists in the abundance of possessions.

  What Jesus offered this man, and what he came to offer all people, was a relationship with God that would free them from the need to fill the emptiness in their lives with things—whether material possessions, “right” ethical opinions, or righteous obedience to religious laws. Through Jesus, our life can be filled with a divine love, which alone satisfies the hunger of our soul. Only when the soul is filled can it be set free from the secular, ethical, and religious cravings that keep it in bondage.

  CONSERVATIVES AND LIBERALS WITHIN THE SAME KINGDOM

  Jesus would simply not allow the world to set the terms of his engagement with the world. This explains how (and perhaps why) he could call Matthew, a tax collector, as well as Simon, a zealot, to be his disciples (Matt. 10:3–4). Tax collectors were on the farthest right wing of Jewish politics, zealots on the farthest left wing. To compare them to, say, Ralph Nader and Rush Limbaugh wouldn’t come close. In fact, historical records indicate that the zealots despised tax collectors even more than they despised the Romans, for tax collectors not only paid taxes to support the Roman government (something zealots deplored), but they actually made their living collecting taxes from other Jews on Rome’s behalf. Even worse, tax collectors often enhanced their income by charging more than was due and keeping the difference. For this reason, zealots sometimes assassinated tax collectors!

  Yet Matthew and Simon spent three years together ministering alongside Jesus. No doubt they had some interesting fireside chats about politics. But what is positively amazing is that they ministered together with Jesus to advance the kingdom of God. Just as interesting, we never find a word in the Gospels about their different political opinions. Indeed, we never read a word about what Jesus thought about their radically different kingdom-of-the-world views.

  What this silence suggests is that, in following Jesus, Matthew and Simon had something in common that dwarfed their individual political differences in significance, as extreme as these differences were. This silence points to the all-important distinctness of the kingdom of God from every version of the kingdom of the world. To be sure, Jesus’ life and teachings would undoubtedly transform the trust both had in their political views if they would allow it. At the very least, as the reign of God took hold in their lives, the tax collector would no longer cheat his clients and the zealot no longer kill his opponents. Yet Jesus invited them both to follow him as they were, prior to their transformation, and their widely divergent political views were never a point of contention with Jesus.

  What are we to make, then, of the fact that the evangelical church is largely divided along political lines? The Christian position is declared to be Matthew’s among conservatives, Simon’s among liberals. While Jesus never sided with any of the limited and divisive kingdom-of-the-world options routinely set before him, the church today, by and large, swallows them hook, line, and sinker. Indeed, in some circles, whether conservative or liberal, taking particular public stands on social, ethical, and political issues, and siding with particular political or social ideologies, is the litmus test of one’s orthodoxy. In many quarters, individual
s and groups with different opinions about which version of the kingdom of the world is best don’t have friendly fireside chats. If they communicate at all, it’s shouting across picket lines!10

  What this suggests is that the church has been co-opted by the world. To a large degree, we’ve lost our distinct kingdom-of-God vision and abandoned our mission. We’ve allowed the world to define us, set our agenda, and define the terms of our engagement with it. We’ve accepted the limited and divisive kingdom-of-the-world options and therefore mirror the kingdom-of-the-world conflicts. Because of this, we have not sought wisdom from above (James 3:17), the wisdom Jesus consistently displayed that would help us discern a unique kingdom-of-God approach to issues to empower our moving beyond the stalemates and tit-for-tat conflicts that characterize the kingdom of the world. Instead, we’ve made these conflicts our own as we fight with each other over “the Christian” option.

  We have lost the simplicity of the kingdom of God and have largely forsaken the difficult challenge of living out the kingdom. We have forgotten, if ever we were taught, the simple principle that the kingdom of God looks like Jesus and that our sole task as kingdom people is to mimic the love he revealed on Calvary. We have to a large degree gone AWOL on the kingdom of God, allowing it to be reduced to a religious version of the world. The world supplies the options, and in direct contradiction to Jesus’ example, we think it’s our job to pronounce which one God thinks is right.