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This article was originally published in Out of the
Strange Silence. Kindred Productions, 2005.
The Challenge of
“Dual-Citizenship”
in the 21st
Century
by Pierre Gilbert September 10, 2004
Christians normally think of themselves as citizens of
the Kingdom of God. As such, they are expected to act
and live as Kingdom citizens and to give it their primary
allegiance. But Christians are also citizens of nations
here on earth and are expected to grant at least some
degree of allegiance to their country. In a very real and
concrete way, for better or for worse, Christians hold
“dual citizenship”. To pretend it is not so,
simply does not reflect reality. What are the implications
of such “dual-citizenship” for Christians who
live in democratic systems such as found in the United
States and Canada? Since this article is written in
the context of the 50th anniversary of the
Mennonite Brethren Biblical Seminary, I will initially
focus this discussion on those who identify with the
Mennonite tradition, and then I will expand it to include
the broader Christian community.
Traditionally, Mennonites in Canada and the United
States have shied away from political involvement. Until
the early 1960s, Mennonites generally shunned public
service and law in favor of farming, education, and the
medical professions. More recently, Mennonites have become
much less queasy about politics and political activism.
There are at least three reasons behind this trend. First,
Mennonites have to a great extent left the rural context
and become urban and more mainstream. Second, intellectuals
in the Mennonite Church have espoused, mainly throughout
the 60’s and early 70’s, an ideology that in
fact encourages a much greater degree of political
activism. John Howard Yoder[1] has been very instrumental in effecting
this trend. Third, such political activism is now
perceived as essential to help promote the peace and
justice agenda that is considered by many Mennonites as
one of the fundamental expressions of the Anabaptist
faith.[2]
Like Christians of other traditions in Canada and the
United States, the political activism of Mennonites most
often tends to reside in one or the other side of the
political spectrum. It would be a serious mistake to assume
that Mennonites constitute a massive unanimous political
block. Mennonites tend to identify with either the liberal
left or the conservative right otherwise found in the
broader society. I would go so far as to state that the
Mennonite community reflects the culture war that has
increasingly characterized North American politics since
9/11, and even more acutely since the war in Iraq in March
2003.[3] Although the discourse generally
remains polite, the tone is unambiguous. Mennonites on
either side of the divide cannot fathom how anyone can
hold a contrary opinion to their own. The left-wing
Mennonites ceaselessly accuse their right-wing
counterparts of siding with the evangelicals in
confusing their conservative right-wing political agenda
with their Christian faith, particularly when it comes
to the role of the military, US foreign policy and the
place of civil religion in society. On the other hand,
lest we think this is a one-sided sin, left-wing
Mennonites, in an eerily mirror image fashion, seem to
suffer from the same affliction. Politically engaged
Mennonites who do not wish to identify with the
conservative American evangelicals usually espouse views
that are most consistent with the left-wing political
agenda. In fact, I have observed that in some circles,
the distinction between of the Mennonite/Anabaptist
faith and the left-wing political agenda is at best
tenuous.
These two groups are similar in one way. At the extreme
ends of the spectrum, both are tempted to view their
respective stance as the natural default position for
good-thinking Christians. It is not something unique to
conservative Christians. While the left-wing Mennonites may
rant about the evangelicals’ confusion of religion
and politics, they, in the end, do not fare much better. If
Jesus were to appear today, they assume he would sit at
their table. He would be a strident supporter of Green
Peace. He would be present at all the anti-war
demonstrations. He would drive an environmentally friendly
Honda Hybrid.
Liberal left-wing Mennonites usually use the language of
“faithfulness” (“Let the Church be the
Church”)[4] when dealing with the issues of the day
and tend to deal with them according to a list of
priorities starting with peace and justice, which
usually entails a good dose of anti-Americanism or a
radical and systematic denunciation of American foreign
policy. The recent war against Iraq is an excellent case
in point. When it comes to the peace issue, these
Mennonites do not hesitate, either individually or
through various Mennonite agencies, to publicly express
their disapproval. The other issues that get some
attention is the so-called social justice agenda (gender
issues, aboriginal rights, gay and lesbian rights), the
environment and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
On other morality issues, left-wing Mennonites tend to
be less vocal: abortion, same-sex marriage, the rise of
“religious” secularism and the corresponding
mounting public dismissal of conservative Christianity
receive less attention. Abortion is sometimes addressed,
but not nearly as vigorously as some of the other issues I
spelled out earlier. A good illustration of this mitigated
approach can be found on the Peace and Justice Support
Network website of Mennonite Church USA where, after
voicing a clear opposition to abortion, in agreement with
the Assembly 75 statement, the document then proceeds to
qualify that stance. The following excerpt articulates the
rationale behind the hesitation to back a forceful anti
abortion stance and is quite representative of the position
held by a significant number of left-wing Mennonite
intellectuals across Mennonite denominations.
The situation in both the
Mennonite Church and society has changed, however. Anna
Bowman, one of two women on the committee, explained that
the 1975 statement was written, "prior to the pro-life,
pro-choice polarization. We weren't as aware that the
members of our churches were in a privileged position." As
a social worker, Bowman is aware that many women seeking
abortions have not been taught to make responsible choices
independent of the men in their lives and do not have
support when caught in an unplanned pregnancy. "As a
denomination, we still know what we believe, but face a
new, different question: Do we have the right to make our
beliefs the law of the land, especially when others aren't
so privileged?"[5]
The critical question is not so much what the denomination
believes, but whether its members have the right to make
“our beliefs the law of the land…” In
this particular piece, which is fairly characteristic of a
broad spectrum of the Mennonite church, to attempt to weigh
in on such issues is seen as coercion, domination, and
control; “the violent assertion of our rights.”
While those identifying with conservative evangelicalism
would not describe their political activism as some attempt
at imposing Christian beliefs, they would tend to be less
equivocal on the appropriateness of using political levers
to bring about the outcome they seek.
In that respect, left-wing Mennonites often accuse American
evangelicals and Mennonites who identify with them of not
showing proper concern for peace and social justice and to
be too strident in using their political clout to impose
their moral values on the rest of society.
As I pointed out earlier, this great divide amongst
Mennonites is not unique. It reflects a much wider and
vigorous culture war that is presently being waged in the
United States and Canada.
Since the question I identify does not only concern
Mennonites, but Christians of all stripes, I will now
broaden the discussion to include all Christians. So how do
we approach the issue of dual-citizenship for Christians?
Do we look for a balanced approach between what is
perceived as two extremes? In theory, perhaps. In practice,
the so-called “balanced” position often turns
out to be as elusive as a desert mirage. Rather than
attempt to resolve the problem by somehow adding the two
and dividing by two, I would like to attempt to provide a
framework for Christian social/political activism that I
hope will set out a model that reconciles the
Christian’s twofold identity without necessarily
identifying with one side or the other of the political
spectrum.
At this point, I need to point out that this article aims
at discussing the situation Christians find themselves in
democratic countries that uphold individual rights, freedom
of speech, and freedom of association. More specifically,
it targets the situations of Christians in the United
States and Canada. Though it is not my intent to exclude
Western Europe, Australia, and other democratic countries,
I focus particularly on the US and Canada, because this is
the context with which I am most familiar and because there
is in fact a significant Christian population that would be
concerned by such a discussion. In other words, it is
primarily in the United States and, and to a lesser extent,
in Canada, that the issue is most pertinent and most
controversial.
The Search for Universal Values
Though Christians generally believe that the Bible is to be
their primary source in the search to develop appropriate
models of behavior, they may not be unanimous on where that
search should begin. The Old Testament would seem to be a
logical place to begin our exploration, but one needs to be
careful not to compare oranges and bananas, as the saying
goes. Ancient Israel was, to all intents and purposes, a
sort of theocracy, a religious state. Though Israel had a
king, he was to be Yahweh’s representative, and the
Sinai covenant, with its laws and stipulations,
Israel’s basic constitution. The king of Israel,
unlike his Egyptian or Mesopotamian counterparts, was no
law unto himself; he was responsible to uphold God’s
law and was, in theory, subject to it. So, when the
prophets of Israel condemn the king and the ruling classes,
the appeals are based on a failure to observe the basic
demands of the law. One of the crispest expressions of that
principle is found in Micah 6:8: “He has showed you,
O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require
of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly
with your God.”[6] Micah summarizes the entire law in
three commands: to act justly, to love mercy, to walk
humbly with your God. In the context of Israel, those
three injunctions make perfect sense. Israel’s
identity was intimately linked with a particular God.
Justice and mercy were not perceived as autonomous
concepts; they were the natural expressions of an
exclusive allegiance to Yahweh.
While we may completely echo the prophet’s call of
justice and mercy, it would not be quite appropriate, in a
secular state, to call for an unconditional allegiance to
Yahweh or Jesus on the part of our government officials. We
do, however, believe that all the calls to justice in the
prophetic literature, which echo, to a great extent, the
core of the Ten commandments, are valid. There are two
reasons why Christians would believe in the legitimacy of
extending the prophet’s call to their contemporaries.
First, it reflects a certain understanding of who God is.
Second, we believe that the injunctions to do justice and
to show mercy are universally valid concepts regardless of
the social or cultural context we may be in. Most
Christians would also believe, even if we don’t
constantly emphasize it, that the only way to sustain these
values in any society, is if they are tied to, linked with,
or embedded in the belief in a personal and moral God who
demands justice and mercy, and holds all men and women
accountable. In the end, we may recognize that in a secular
and pluralistic society, we can’t demand, require or
legislate belief in the Christian God. Even then, those of
us who work for and promote justice and mercy will
recognize deep down in our hearts that we do so because we
understand that these values derive from the moral nature
of God himself and thus represent universals that should be
sought at all times and in all places.
The following example illustrates well what I mean.
While it is commonplace to vilify the British for their
involvement in India in the 19th century, it is
interesting to note that until British rule, a widow was
required to mount the funeral pyre of her husband and be
cremated along with him. The rite of sati that had
been prevalent in India for thousands of years was finally
prohibited when the British put an end to it in 1829. The
members of the British parliament who enacted the law and
those officers who enforced it in the field did not for one
second believe that such a practice could be defended on
the basis of the type of post-modern multicultural mush we
now find in most Western countries, and which holds every
culture, irrespective of practice and belief, in equal
esteem. Although the Orthodox Hindus vehemently protested
the measure and appealed to the Privy Council in England,
fortunately for the widows, the council rejected the
appeal. The British knew the practice was wrong and did
their best to stamp it out. The issue, here, is not whether
the British could or should impose the Christian faith, but
whether they would sanction practices they felt went
against a moral standard they regarded as absolute and
universal.
From the Old Testament, we derive a number of
fundamental values that we hold as universal, and
consequently as good and appropriate in any context. The
intrinsic value of each individual human being as made in
the image of God, the notion of human dignity, the defense
of the poor and compassion for the weak, the rejection of
magic and superstition would rank very high.
In regards to moral behavior, the New Testament presents a
contextualization of the most fundamental moral precepts
found in the Old Testament. It is commonly advocated that
these precepts apply primarily if not exclusively to the
Church. In that respect, we interpret the Sermon on the
Mount, for example, as the charter for the people of God. I
would strongly support the notion that the New Testament
precepts are primarily for the community of believers; they
are not meant to be law for all. But I would also make the
point that if the New Testament moral injunctions in great
part reflect the heart of the Old Testament covenant, and
if we accept that the most fundamental object of the law is
to promote life,[7] it follows then that the most
fundamental elements of Old and New Testament moral
prescriptions will work for the benefit of the community
that adopts them.
In other words, we believe that if a society adopts the
most basic moral premises attested in Scripture, it will
thrive as a just and compassionate society where
individuals enjoy personal freedom and dignity. At least,
that is the theory. If, on the other hand, a community does
not hold to these beliefs and values we believe are
essential to the maintenance of a healthy society, it will
decay and people will bear the price of the moral corrosion
that will result. This is where the point of the dilemma
appears. Does knowing what may be best for our society give
us some right to impose our beliefs? While some Christians
would balk at the notion of “imposing” beliefs,
most would agree that we do have some kind of obligation to
intervene in one form or another to shape the community we
are part of. The question, of course, is how can we do so
with biblical integrity?
Biblical Precedents
There are two passages that I think can provide some
direction in regards to Christian political/social
involvement. The first one is found in Jeremiah 29:5-28,
the second in Romans 13:1.
Jeremiah 29:5-28 is set in the context of the Judean
community exiled in Babylon. At that time, the Judeans
still entertained some hope that their stay in Babylon
would be temporary and that God would soon return them to
the Promised Land. Against all expectations, Jeremiah gave
them a difficult and expected directive. There would be no
immediate return to the land of Israel. Those who had been
taken to Babylon would remain in that foreign land for at
least 70 years. The Judeans were to embrace the future God
was giving to them in their adoptive country and establish
themselves in their new surroundings. Moreover, the exiles
were to make this new place their home and seek the welfare
of the city they lived in. “Also, seek the peace and
prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into
exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you
too will prosper.” (29:7). This text states
explicitly that the exiles should seek the “peace and
prosperity” of their new home. The reason offered is
very pragmatic: “if it prospers, you too will
prosper.”
Leaders involved in Christian community development and
inner city pastors often refer to this passage to motivate
Christians to get involved in the urban context. In this
case, however, the motivation is not quite as
“self-serving” as the Jeremiah text would
appear to be. Christian community development leaders
sincerely encourage Christians to get involved in the city,
not simply to ensure that Christians will have a
comfortable place to live in, but because they deeply
believe that it is a concrete manifestation of
Christ’s love.
Christian community development seeks to work within the
social structures of a neighborhood in order to bring
social healing. While the ultimate goal of Christian
community development is to present the person of Jesus
Christ, the social and political work done by these people
is usually in no way contingent on anyone joining their
church. It is important to note here that such work will
involve much more than charity, mentoring, or coaching. It
often involves very aggressive political work on behalf of
the community. Even if some might disagree with the
underlying evangelistic agenda that is intrinsic to
Christian community development, most would affirm this
kind of Christian social action.[8]
The second text I wish to draw the reader’s attention
to is Romans 13:1: “Everyone must submit himself to
the governing authorities, for there is no authority except
that which God has established. The authorities that exist
have been established by God”. In this passage, Paul
does not primarily intend to provide a basis for Christian
social activism. Romans 13:1 is set in the context of a
series of injunctions aimed at providing basic instructions
for Christian behavior. Paul is basically advocating that
Christians live as law-abiding citizens rather than
criminals. Paul is being very pragmatic. If Christians must
suffer persecution, it should not be because of thievery or
murder, but because of their witness to Christ.
It is obvious, however, that submission to authorities in
the context of First- Century Rome and in 21st
Century North America are, to put it mildly, not quite the
same thing. In contrast to ancient Rome, where citizens had
little say in the politics of the land, residents of the
United States and Canada play a crucial role in the
creation of their government and the policies it creates.
Citizens are called upon to actively shape the society in
which they live. Whether Paul could foresee the
implications of 13:1 for a society such as ours is
certainly open for debate, but at the very least, we can
safely assume that the injunction to submit to authorities
in the context of a democratic system does imply the
obligation for Christians to contribute to shaping the
society they live in to the best of their knowledge and
abilities, since this is what the political system expects
of its citizens. This extrapolation would also be perfectly
compatible with the principle of partnership that is an
intrinsic component of Biblical theology. From the very
beginning, God mandated human beings to work in cooperation
with God in the accomplishment of his designs for the world
(Gn 2:15-17).
What do these two passages mean for Christians today? I
would like to propose a preliminary answer to this question
by outlining the position of the Canadian sociologist,
Fernand Dumont, in regards to the relationship between the
Christian and society.
Fernand Dumont
Fernand Dumont, who passed away in 1997, was one of the
most prolific and admired sociologists in Canada. Author of
numerous books and articles on topics ranging from
epistemology, economics, sociology, history, literature, to
philosophy of religions, he was also a committed and vocal
Christian. This may seem like a trivial observation, but
not in the context of the Quebec context where most
intellectuals feel that one cannot simultaneously be a
committed Christian and a scientist. Although such a
personal commitment could conceivably be a liability in
some circles in the rest of Canada and the United States,
the situation is much worse in Quebec, which has, in the
last 40 years, experienced both an extremely rapid rate of
secularization and nurtured a profound suspicion, if not an
outright hostility, towards traditional and conservative
Christianity. Because of this situation, Fernand Dumont
spoke and wrote at length in order to reconcile science and
the Christian faith.
In a remarkable article in which Dumont discusses how the
Christian can relate to the world,[9] he prefaces his main thesis by
reminding the reader that the Western world has changed
in radical ways in the last century. For example, we no
longer live in a conceptual universe where religious and
profane categories are mixed and confused; we
distinguish, as a matter of course, gospel and
clericalism, the state and the church, science and God.
Belief in the God of the gaps is obsolete. We no longer
live in a world that demands that we revert to
God’s intervention to explain natural phenomena
(thunder, earthquakes, disease, etc.). The scientific
method presupposes that natural phenomena can be
investigated without ever resorting to God’s
action to explain their mechanisms. At first sight, such
a conceptual model would seem to relegate the Christian
faith to the realm of folklore and popular culture, but
Dumont sees it differently. He uses the image of a
three-storied house to explain how we can legitimately
define the relationship between faith and culture. He
emphasizes the fact that though he is referring to three
stories, there is still only one house.
A. The Upper Story: The Rational Organization of the
World.
The upper story represents the place where scientists live;
it is the sphere of rational thought, science, technology
and rational organization. Because of the nature of his
profession, Dumont mentions that this is where he spends
most of his time. “To attempt to explain the
coherence of the universe is an ambition without
limits,” he writes. What cannot be explained is not
simply a mystery to leave in the hands of God but an area
of further and endless investigation.
B. The Main Floor: The Human Condition
At this level, Dumont describes a kind of human
intervention whose main objective is fundamentally the
improvement of the human condition. Dumont is careful to
point out that we are not simply referring to the general
condition of laborers, women, or the poor. Working at
organizing the world according to principles of justice,
truth and compassion is valid, because it aims at improving
the lives of real individuals. To clarify what Dumont
means, we cannot pretend that we are working for the good
of humanity and, at the same time, oppress specific groups.
If, on the one hand, our society actively seeks the
coherence of the universe, it also seeks with the same zeal
to enhance the quality of life of humans everywhere. At
this level, the believer shares both the concern but also
the uncertainty of the solutions needed to improve the
condition of men and women in our world. It is not,
however, a mere intellectual problem. It is because of our
concern for specific individuals that we work to that
end.
C. The Basement: In the Heart of Man
Dumont states that we move from the main floor to the
basement, which represents the depths of the human heart
itself. It is there, he notes, that we find what he calls
the “mal fondamental” (a basic evil, a
fundamental flaw), something radically insufficient in
human nature: a fundamental “vice in our loves and
fidelities,” an “evil from which the Christian
faith springs and which is common to us all.”
Dumont expresses a reality, felt both by believers and
non-believers, that something is not right in the very core
of the human heart. As if humanity was stuck or paralyzed
by a primeval choice; a choice no one is free to erase.
There is a “mortgage” we cannot lift. In
Christian tradition, it is called original sin, and when we
say that, we do not pretend to explain what it is. We
observe that it is there, that is all. We clumsily attempt
to describe it. We confess its existence. We see it first
as a challenge towards God himself. But to have faith, is
more than simply raising our fist to God; it is to go
further. It is to believe in the Christ/God, in his death,
in his resurrection, in our redemption. It is to believe
that men and women are saved in the deepest recesses of
their loves and their fidelities, i.e., in what most
profoundly defines them. The Christian message of salvation
is most vitally important, specific and relevant in this
sphere.
While I cannot hope to offer, in these few pages, a
comprehensive response to the dilemma of Christian
“dual citizenship,” the following observations
are in order.
- Christians have been given, through divine
revelation, a set of universal truths that reflect ultimate
reality in regards to God, human nature and the essence of
the physical universe. Because these truths reflect
ultimate reality, Christians believe that they will
ultimately promote life in cultures that adopt them.
- The community of faith must and should seek the welfare
of those around, not only to ensure its own survival but as
an expression of God’s love for all human beings.
- According to Fernand Dumont’s model, Christian
interaction with the world can occur at three different
levels.
- In the “upper story,” the Christian
scholar (Pierre, is this more broad – does it
include any Christian dedicated to learning/investigation?)
attempts to discover the coherence of the world for its own
sake. In that respect, he or she is no different from
the non-Christian scientist. Both pursue the same goal and
use the same methods. It is interesting to note that the
believer and the atheist, the Christian and the
non-Christian pursue their profession in the context of a
Judeo-Christian cosmological framework that assumes that
the universe is an object of investigation and that this
object has intrinsic coherence.
- On the “main floor,” Christians and
non-Christians alike pursue objectives that go beyond the
mere search for coherence. At this level, human action aims
at something deeper and more fundamental: the improvement
of human life. Cancer researchers, for instance, do not
simply seek the most efficient way to destroy cancer cells;
they ultimately seek a cure for a disease that destroys
real persons.
- In the “basement,” there is, however, an
area of endeavor that is unique to the Christian. This is
what Dumont calls the mal fondamental. There is a
critical and terminal sickness in the deepest recesses of
the human soul, a cancer of the soul. The Bible refers to
it as Sin, a fundamental flaw brought about by a primordial
act of disobedience committed by the first humans. The cure
for this cancer is infinitely beyond modern science,
medicine, psychology, or sociology. The only cure for this
condition is found in a personal, free and willing
encounter with the person of Jesus Christ. The reason as to
why Dumont states that this third sphere is specifically
and exclusively the realm of the Christian is tied to the
fact that the diagnosis of the alleged disease and its cure
are derived from special revelation, the biblical text, and
not from nature. It is a confessional affirmation and not
something that can be verified either through philosophy or
empirical science.
The evangelistic and mission enterprise belongs most
appropriately and relevantly to this third sphere. This is
where individual Christians, churches and para-church
organizations operate. It is an exercise in telling the
Good News of friendship with God, ultimate healing and
eternal salvation. The act of evangelism is by definition
a-political. It is non-coercive. One cannot enact laws to
force men and women to accept the Gospel. Because choosing
to love God and to accept the lordship of Jesus Christ is
the greatest act of self-determination, one cannot
therefore, by definition, legislate that act; one cannot
dictate people into the Kingdom. The evangelistic or
missiological enterprise belongs to the realm of loving,
even if urgent, persuasion, as when Paul writes: “We
implore you on Christ's behalf: Be reconciled to God”
(1 Cor 5:20).
The responsibility of sharing the Good News with those
around us is clearly an implication of our status as
citizens of heaven. It is something Christians must be
actively engaged in whether the State approves of it or
not. In cases where the State’s injunctions conflict
with this demand of the Kingdom, our allegiance to the
Kingdom of God must supersede our allegiance to the earthly
one.
Where Christians most sharply differ is on the character of
their intervention in the second sphere of human action:
the social sphere (the “main floor”). First, we
have a responsibility, both as citizens and Christians, to
participate fully in that sphere of action. For Christians,
this involvement may take various forms, and the issues
that will be addressed may differ from one denomination to
another. But regardless of the ideological differences that
may exist between various groups, any action that seeks the
improvement of real human beings should be welcomed. At
this level, there is no intrinsic conflict between our two
citizenships.
It is extremely important to be clear in regards to the
legitimacy of Christian action at the second level.
Christians may disagree with each other about ideology and
strategies, but as long as there is no attempt at using
political levers to impose allegiance to a particular
religion, I would tend to say that the range of legitimacy
is very broad. If left-wing Mennonites wish to lobby
against military action and US foreign policy, so be it. If
conservative evangelicals wish to use their political clout
to restrict access to abortion and lobby against same-sex
marriage, why not? Morally, philosophically, and
theologically, I do not see any problem whatsoever with
aggressive political activism, as long as there is a clear
distinction between that which is appropriate to the
“main floor” and what is appropriate to the
“basement.” To suggest that the use of
generally-accepted political and social levers to promote
“Christian” values is tantamount to coercion,
abuse of power, or a return to Constantinianism, is sheer
nonsense. As “aliens” in the city and
“dual citizens,” it is both our mandate and
responsibility to seek the good of everyone. This involves
more than doing charity or taking up some social cause; it
also, and perhaps even more importantly, implies the
necessity to defend and uphold those values we consider
best: for if we fail to promote truth, the foundation on
which everything rests will slowly but inexorably erode,
leaving in its wake a trail of untold suffering for
generations to come.
While all Christians, regardless of religious or political
persuasions will subscribe to the necessity to do good
around them, they will not necessarily agree on what
constitutes the good, the degree of political activism they
should engage in, and the methods that should be used. Some
will identify with the liberal left and others with the
conservative right. What is most desperately needed is not
so much to question each other’s right to act in
society, but to accept, first of all, the fundamental
legitimacy to defend and promote values that Christians
believe are best for our society and the legitimacy to use
the most effective methods to do so. The approach I
advocate is not without its difficulties and its pitfalls,
but nothing in this world is clean and risk-free. Every
choice or non-choice we make impacts for good or evil the
world in which we live. For that reason, Christians should
enter into vigorous debate with each other on what
constitutes the good and how it can be upheld in our world.
It may be a naïve wish, an unrealistic aspiration, but
a challenge that nevertheless deserves serious
consideration, if not for our own sake, at least, for the
sake of the generations to come.
Endnotes
1. John Howard Yoder, The Politics
of Jesus (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans,
1972).
2. Leo Driedger and
Donald B. Kraybill. Mennonite Peacemaking: From
Quietism to Activitism. Waterloo: Herald Press,
1994. See also John H. Redekop,
“Mennonites and Politics in Canada and the
United States,” Journal of Mennonite
Studies I (1983):79-105. John H. Redekop.,
“Politics,” in The Mennonite
Encyclopedia (Scottdale, Pennsylvania; Waterloo,
Ontario: Herald Press, 1990), pp. 711-714.
3. George Jonas clearly and succinctly
spells out the terms of that culture
“war” in his article, “The Culture
War’s Elected Peacemakers” National
Post, May 31, 2004.
4. See, for example, Ben C.
Ollenburger and Gayle G. Koontz, eds. A Mind
Patient and Untamed: Assessing John Howard
Yoder’s Contributions to Theology, Ethics, and
Peacemaking (Telford, Pa: Cascadia Publishing
House, 2004).
6. All references are taken from the
New International Version.
7. Here it is important to note that
the Ten Commandments are literally, the “ten
words”. These “ten words” are not
given with the intent to make life difficult or to
curb individual freedoms, which is what most people
tend to associate with laws and commandments. The
primary purpose of the Ten Commandments is to order
life in the land in such a way as to create the
conditions that will permit the continued enjoyment
of the new freedom the people have received. Bottom
line, the law is not primarily given to judge but to
promote life.
8. This mission statement, lifted from
a Burundi Christian community development
organization is typical:
“Christian Community Development is a
Christ-centered organisation [sic] with goals of
assisting the poor and the needy of Burundi to know
Jesus Christ as their personal Saviour and to overcome
poverty” (CCD Burundi, (n.d.), retrieved
August July 1, 2004, from
http://ccdburundi.org.uk/.
9. See Fernand Dumont,
“Après le système
chrétien,” in L’incroyance au
Québec, ed. by Gregory Baum, Héritage
et projet, vol. 7 (Montreal: Fides, 1973), pp.
221-227.
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