Discipling the Powerful
Stephen Terry
Commentary for the March 1, 2014
Sabbath School Lesson
“‘Do you refuse to speak to me?’
Pilate said. ‘Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify
you?’”
“Jesus answered, ‘You would
have no power over me if it were not given to you from above…’” John 19:10-11,
NIV
Christians
have long struggled with how to relate to the powerful. In the first centuries
after Christ’s incarnation, the authorities often represented persecution, at
times seeing the church as a seditious sect needing to be extirpated. This was
because religion was closely intertwined with government and that religion was
typically expressed through the worship of the pagan deities of Greece, Rome
and even Egypt. In practice, any religion was tolerated that did not challenge
the cult of the Emperor which venerated him as divine.
While
paganism was polytheistic, including the Emperor in the pantheon was easily
accommodated so the various pagan beliefs of countries accreted to the Empire
were not a problem. However, the monotheism of Judaism, and later Christianity,
was problematic because the only deity they would recognize was not the
Emperor. The record of the Jews long struggle against the pagan societies that
surrounded them and eventually Rome is well documented by Josephus in his “The
Antiquities of the Jews” and “The Wars of the Jews.” Because of this long
history, the Roman Empire granted a grudging toleration of this Jewish
idiosyncrasy as long as they did not openly rebel. However, Christianity had no
such long history.
At first
they were perhaps simply considered a sect of Judaism by their Roman overlords.
But after several Jewish revolts and subsequent persecutions of the Jews by the
Romans, the need for Christians to separate themselves from that identity
became apparent. But that separation became a two-edged sword. By establishing
themselves as a separate and new religion, they were delivered from the
problems the Jews faced, but their theology, previously recognized as simply
part of that strange Jewish thing, now began to appear seditious, perhaps even
being a rebellion dedicated to overthrowing the emperor. Some of the Christian
rhetoric about serving kings and kingdoms who were neither Caesar nor the Roman
Empire may have served to further the suspicion. Little wonder that some rulers
would require a loyalty test or oath to alleviate such suspicions. This was a
trying period for the early church. Many lost their lives over these issues,
with the church often seeing such tests as a matter of proving faithful to God
and the government seeing it as a matter of patriotism.
In the early
fourth century, this relationship underwent a sea change. The Emperor
Constantine came to power, assisted, he believed, by the Christian God.[i]
Naturally, he began a policy of toleration and even governmental nurturing of
the previously outcast religion. Because the long period of persecution and
disfavor had resulted in many disparate dioceses under relatively independent
bishops presiding in cities scattered throughout the Empire, discrepancies in
doctrine and scriptural canon had arisen. In an effort to resolve these issues,
Emperor Constantine called for the first empire-wide council of bishops at
Nicaea in Bithynia in 325, AD.[ii]
While many
welcomed an end to the persecution of Christians, this close relationship
between church and emperor essentially placed the church in exactly the same
position the pagan religious authorities had occupied previously, and they
began to turn the government power to persecute against not only the pagans who
had previously persecuted them, but also against those with theological
perspectives not endorsed by the bishops who were closest to the Emperor. Arius
and Meletius are two examples of bishops who found themselves at the wrong end
of the government’s rod of authority. As a result, although doctrinally
distinct, they joined forces and became a major source of opposition to the imperial
church.[iii]
The reason
all of this history is significant is that it helps us to understand the
church’s strange relationship to governmental authority. In its earliest
incarnation, the Christian church had to understand how to be good citizens
under a government that was trying to destroy you and considered you seditious.
Paul tried to address this in his letter to the Romans.[iv]
Since Rome
was the seat of empire, this question was perhaps more apropos there than anywhere. In spite of denying the deity of the
Emperor, Paul nonetheless recognized that his authority was divinely derived.
Therefore he encouraged obedience to the duly constituted authorities of the
state. Perhaps this is where the concept of the “divine right of kings” to rule
originated.
This
doctrine, no doubt encouraged by the various emperors in Rome and
Constantinople over the years, perhaps became most firmly established from the
time of Charlemagne’s coronation by the Bishop of Rome, Pope Leo III, at the
end of the eighth century as Holy Roman Emperor[v]
and on down through various dynasties to Louis XVI of France and other similar
potentates who met their end as the result of populist revolts beginning during
the “Age of Enlightenment”[vi]
and continuing to some degree into the present.
Once one
accepts that all authority is divinely constituted, any idea of usurpation of
authority by any human means comes into question. Therefore, since patriotism
becomes by definition an act of faith, any act of rebellion against the
government must of necessity become a tossing overboard of that faith as well.
This was well illustrated in the French Revolution,[vii]
were faith was ostensibly replaced by reason in order to provide justification
for revolt. The Reign of Terror that ensued, sending 40,000 or more to their
deaths[viii]
caused many to realize that reason alone could not ensure morality and
compassion. In the end, the populace was so disenchanted with the results that
they soon regressed to imperial rule under Napoleon Bonaparte, a regression
that had implications not only for France and Europe but even impacted Mexico
and other lands in the New World.
So in view
of all this, where should the Christian stand in relationship to governmental
authority? What will be the best witness of our faith to those in such
authoritative positions? If we take Paul’s counsel in Romans, chapter thirteen,
then we will become model citizens, obeying the authorities, paying our taxes
willingly, and showing respect and honor to those ruling us. However, anyone
who has even waded slightly into the arena of political factionalism will see
that some who profess the Christian faith do exactly the opposite of this
advice from Paul.
Christians
sometimes freely excoriate those who happen to belong to the political faction
that opposes their own. Sadly some of the vilest insults and slanders are
presented as though they were truths from the Holy Scriptures themselves.
Gender, race and religious orientation are often viciously attacked as though
the incumbent, the candidate, or their supporters were the Devil incarnate. The
rhetoric at times becomes so violent that some individuals even advocate for
armed insurrection and assassination of public officials. All of this, they
advocate in order to deliver “god fearing” people from slavering heathen in the
form of communists, Muslims, socialists, Nazis or any number of other bogeymen
that threaten our supposedly Christian nation. And to add icing to this
questionable cake of fear, it is urged that every Christian arm themselves with
enough personal firepower to overcome this phantom menace.
Perhaps this
whole scenario would not seem so strange if we did not understand that Paul
wrote his counsel at a time when the government truly was a threat to
Christians everywhere. However, instead of advocating revolt and overthrowing
the Emperor, he urged loyalty and honor. If anyone would have been justified in
urging a survivalist mentality and a resistance to government, he might have
been. Perhaps instead he took the model of Jesus, who meekly submitted to
execution, knowing that divine providence overruled the affairs of men.
Some might
consider this a “pie in the sky” type of Christianity that isn’t practical when
faced with the immoral actions of modern governments. However, Paul was not a
stranger to these issues. Not only was he wrongfully executed in Rome, but he
had early on witnessed the unjust execution of Stephen in Jerusalem for simply
being a Christian. He himself had been stoned, arrested and imprisoned
unjustly. Yet, he could still in good conscience write those words in Romans.
When we
encourage resistance to governmental authority, where do we draw the
justification from? Do we assert a higher morality than those who rule over us,
even knowing that we too are moral failures?[ix]
While it may be true that rebellion originated in heaven,[x]
it did not originate with God. Whenever we encounter that spirit, whether
directed at elected officials or duly appointed governmental authority, perhaps
we should sincerely question its derivation. The idea of Jesus with an assault
rifle leading an attack on the Whitehouse to establish a supposedly Christian
government is not only repugnant it is ludicrous. Why then would those who are
supposed to be His followers even hint at such a behavior for Christians? It staggers
the mind.
While I am
not an advocate of creeds beyond what Jesus lived out every day of His thirty
plus years, perhaps these few verses in Romans should be a measuring stick for us
each to measure ourselves by to determine if our lives model a Christ like
behavior or the behavior of someone who fell from heaven long, long ago and is
still recruiting for his army. When it comes to that army, maybe we all should
be conscientious objectors.
