Christian Nationalism

What is it and why the Church is not "at stake"

Let’s talk politics, shall we?

Are you, like me, feeling a bit disappointed in the American electoral process these days? Wondering how it is that our system of electing our leaders became so divisive, so polarized … so nasty? Yes, me too. More importantly, I’m deeply grieved that the Cross is being dragged through the mud in the name of campaigning all over my communities—be they Red or Blue. Folks I know and respect are responding to this presidential election as though the Church is under threat if one or another candidate succeeds. And with the stakes that high, we likely shouldn’t be surprised that the standard rules for courtesy and community seem to be dissembling before our eyes. So let me interject with some good news—the very existence of the Church is not under threat.

In less conflicted moments, most of us would readily agree that citizens of the Kingdom of God are “citizens of another Kingdom.” And that the Kingdom of God is way bigger than American politics. But it seems that in the heat of the moment … we forget. And we are lured into a posture that affirms this idea that American identity is inextricably linked to Christian identity. And that not just historically, but ontologically. That America somehow holds God’s favor more than other nations. Or worse, that being an American makes you a Christian. And worst of all, that America IS the Kingdom of God. This belief system, that has a nasty habit of sneaking into our churches, is what everyone is shouting about when they use the term, “Christian Nationalism.”

So let’s take a step back. Is the sort of religious nationalism echoed in “Christian nationalism” new? Goodness no. The ancient world was almost entirely populated by  people who believed that their nation was the possession of this or that deity; that they held that god’s special favor; and that federal law was an expression of divine law. They believed that their king was the deity’s representative on earth, and therefore this same king was the deity’s commander-and-chief.  Thus, if a nation lost a war (think 9/11), experienced a plague (think HIV/AIDS), or experienced economic collapse (think 2008) it was because of divine punishment. The Sumerians, Babylonians, Assyrians, Moabites, and certainly the Egyptians speak definitively in their ancient texts of national disasters as the result of a deity’s displeasure. Correspondingly, they spoke of national economic boons as the result of the deity’s pleasure. This belief system goes back as far as we have records and endured into the “Holy Roman Empire,” the “Church of England,” the “Massachusetts Bay Colony Experiment,” and lives on in the militaristic jihad posture of many Muslim states.

Where does this idea come from and why has it been so historically resilient? For those who’ve read The Epic of Eden: A Christian Entry into the Old Testament, or studied one of my Bible study curriculums,  you already know the answer. Theocracy. The word defines itself: theos (“God”) + crateô  (“to rule”) = the idea that God is the king of my country. 

This is how ancient Israel, rightly, understood their identity under the Mosaic covenant. Yahweh was Israel’s king. His palace was the temple. His throne, the ark of the covenant. Tribute and taxation were offered regularly (we call those “first-fruits” and “tithes”); the “mercy seat” was the Supreme Court; and his theocratic officers know as prophet, priest, and king were all appointed to their offices by the divine king. Federal law was religious law (think the Ten Commandments, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy). Israel’s territory belonged to Yahweh, the citizenry of ancient Israel was the citizenry of the Kingdom of God, and Israel’s political borders were the borders of the Kingdom of God. Thus, the nations who were Israel’s enemies were God’s enemies, and Israel’s political interests were God’s political interests. National prosperity was a mark of the citizenry’s obedience to the Mosaic covenant (see Deut 28:1-14); national crisis was the mark of that same citizenry’s covenantal disobedience (see Deut 28:15-68). War was the means by which the Kingdom was expanded and defended. In sum, Israel was a theocracy—and you cannot understand the Old Covenant without getting your brain around that concept. 

We get into trouble, however, when we transfer this concept to the New Covenant.

That because the New Testament makes it very clear that with the inauguration of the New Covenant, the theocracy of the Mosaic Covenant is over. Thus, the “Kingdom of God” is redefined in the New Covenant. As Paul preaches over and over again, in the New Covenant God’s people are no longer defined by biology and are therefore no longer limited to the offspring of Abraham (Gal 3:29). God’s presence is no longer confined to the Temple (Matt 18:20), and God’s place (and therefore the place of His people) is no longer limited to that hilly patch of real estate along the eastern Mediterranean Sea.

In sum, Jesus’ kingdom (our new prophet, priest, and king) is not defined by earthly political borders. And his kingdom is not expanded by military conquest. Rather, the “weapons of our warfare” have been redefined (2 Cor 10:4; Eph 6:13-17; 1 Thess 5:8), and we have become ambassadors sent from the heavenly Kingdom to an earthly one (Eph 6:20).

According to 1 Peter 2 the Church is a new nation whose citizenry is birthed of alliance—not ethnicity or geography. I remind my students of this all the time. Unlike the theocracy of Israel, in the New Covenant we find citizens of the Kingdom of God from every tongue, tribe, and nation. Thus, we will find the people of God in North Korea and South Korea, in Turkey and Greece, in Gaza and Israel. The revolutionary message of the Gospel is that in Christ, for the first time in human history, “Jew and Greek,” American and Iraqi, Costa Rican and Nicaraguan, can become one nation through our shared allegiance to Christ: “For he himself is our peace, who has made the two one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility” (Eph 2:14 NIV). Our shared allegiance to our one King supersedes our political identities and unifies us in His purposes. In this new identity we are “brother” and “sister,” and therefore we bear each other’s burdens, we live and die in each other’s defense. We are the Church.

Beloved, this is the Great Story. And He and His Kingdom-come is our one, true hope. And as there are no political borders to the New Covenant Kingdom of God, that means that the leaders, laws, and borders of my country are not the leaders, laws, or borders of the Kingdom of God. Which also means that the theocratic promises given to Israel under the Mosaic covenant do not apply to my country under the Jesus covenant. And the promises of the Jesus covenant? Well, those apply to the Church, not to my nation.

So here is the most excellent news for all of us this election season. The Church is not at risk if either the Democrats or the Republicans win the American election. Breath easy, my friend. But if the enemy of our souls manages to fracture, divide and polarize the Church by means of our identity as Democrat or Republican … well, then we might just be in trouble.