by Rev. Mark Creech
RevMarkCreech.org
J.D. Greear recently wrote an article for The Gospel Coalition titled “Why I’m Not a Christian Nationalist.”
I think Christians will agree with many points in the article.
The government should not decide who is a genuine Christian. It should not establish a state church, determine Christian orthodoxy, compel religious belief, or place matters of Christian doctrine under the authority of civil magistrates.
Like Greear, I, as a Baptist, have good reason to appreciate those convictions.
Greear is also correct that government is never morally neutral. Every law rests upon an understanding of right and wrong, justice and injustice, and good and evil. He acknowledges that Christians should seek to influence government, serve in government, act as salt and light, and restrain evil. He specifically says that Christians should not withdraw from politics.
Again, I wholeheartedly agree.
This is why I think his article raises an important question.
What message will Christians actually take away from arguments like his?
Greear says Christians should engage public life, yet much of his argument warns Christians about political power. He warns of religious tests, blasphemy laws, government-defined Christianity, and political power turning against believers. He then turns to eschatology, and the warning becomes even stronger.
Greear argues from Revelation that Christians should expect fallen political powers to remain dangerous until Christ returns. “Babylon will remain Babylon,” he writes, and “the Beast will remain the Beast.” He rejects the expectation that Christians will progressively transform earthly political institutions into outposts of the kingdom of God before Jesus returns. “There’s no kingdom without the King,” he argues.
Much of what Greear writes is true. Nevertheless, I fear another danger, one that deserves far more attention than it usually receives: Christians can become so afraid of misusing political power that they refrain from exercising legitimate political influence altogether.
For nearly three decades, I have worked in and around the North Carolina General Assembly as a Christian public-policy advocate. I have worked with pastors, churches, legislators, citizens, and Christian organizations on issues such as abortion, marriage, gambling, alcohol, religious liberty, parental rights, education, drugs, pornography, and the protection of children.
I have certainly seen Christians make mistakes in politics. Some become too partisan. Others, I think, place too much confidence in elections. I have even seen Christians grow angry, bitter, and so combative that they forget their political opponents are human beings made in the image of God – people for whom Christ died.
But the widespread problem I have personally encountered has not been evangelical Christians clamoring for the government to decide who is sufficiently Christian. The problem has been getting Christians to engage at all.
For years, I have watched pastors hesitate to address public questions for fear of being labeled “political.” I have seen Christians retreat from moral controversies for fear of damaging their witness. I have encountered believers who seem to think that speaking about abortion, marriage, sexuality, gambling, parental rights, alcohol, drugs, or education somehow distracts from the gospel.
This is why I am concerned about the practical effect of arguments like Greear’s.
He explicitly tells Christians not to withdraw. Nevertheless, arguments can have consequences beyond their disclaimers. When Christian political engagement is discussed primarily in terms of danger – Christian nationalism, political idolatry, Babylon, the Beast, coercion, corruption, and the misuse of power – Christians who are already hesitant typically hear a simpler message: politics is treacherous; keep your distance; do not get too involved; do not expect too much; and, above all, do not become one of those Christians.
The result is another error, every bit as serious as political idolatry: political abdication.
An argument may be balanced in its stated principles yet unbalanced in its emphasis. Greear affirms Christian engagement in theory, but his article devotes considerably more attention to the dangers of engagement than to the responsibilities that make it necessary. He warns against Christians confusing political power with the kingdom of God, but I don’t believe he gives equal weight to the danger of Christians treating political involvement itself as suspect.
Greear is right that many Christians expect too much of politics. I am more concerned that arguments like his lead Christians to expect too little from their obedience.
What Do We Mean by Christian Nationalism?
Part of the difficulty, I think, is that the term “Christian nationalism” is now used to describe a remarkably wide range of ideas. Because the phrase carries such strongly negative associations, its broad use can also make ordinary Christian political engagement seem suspect.
Greear’s greatest concern is Christians who would give civil government authority over explicitly religious matters. He rightly asks what happens when a government that favors one expression of Christianity today decides tomorrow that another expression is unacceptable.
He reinforces this concern with an appeal to history. He argues that governments identified as Christian have repeatedly persecuted believers whose convictions fell outside the officially favored expression of Christianity.
Indeed, history gives Christians ample reason to be wary of granting civil government authority to define orthodoxy, police religious conscience, or determine which Christians are acceptable. Yet that historical warning argues against government control of Christianity. It is not, by itself, an argument against Christians vigorously influencing government through persuasion, elections, legislation, and other constitutional means.
There is an enormous difference between saying the government should determine who a Christian is and saying that Christians should allow their understanding of Scripture to shape their views of government. A great divide exists between compelling religious belief and Christians contending for laws they believe reflect biblical principles of justice. And there is a tremendous difference between establishing a state church and Christians seeking to influence government and society’s institutions.
Those distinctions can easily become blurred beneath the label “Christian nationalism.”
The phrase itself is used quite elastically and carries considerable negative freight. Public debate often associates it with coercion, intolerance, and threats to democratic government. It has also been compared in public commentary to Nazism, Taliban-style rule, and other forms of authoritarianism. When used broadly, as it commonly is, it ceases merely to describe a particular political theology and functions as a pejorative label for Christian political engagement more generally.
This is where I am very concerned.
If by “Christian nationalism” we mean government defining Christianity, compelling religious belief, imposing theological tests, or suppressing freedom of conscience, then I want no part of it. But that is not the same as Christians believing that biblical truth has implications for law, culture, education, family policy, economics, public morality, and civil government.
Nor is this what I have generally encountered over nearly three decades of Christian public-policy work. The Christians with whom I have worked were not trying to establish some sort of theocracy or to empower government to determine who is authentically Christian, or even Christian enough. They sought to persuade lawmakers and voters on issues they believed had serious moral consequences.
That is not the government taking control of Christianity. It is Christians attempting to influence the government.
Greear also points to postmillennial Christians, such as Doug Wilson and others, whose theology leads them to expect greater Christian influence over institutions and culture before Christ returns.
I certainly do not share many of the theological conclusions these men reach, but they, too, should have a place at the public table. Religious liberty cannot mean liberty only for Christians whose theology or politics comfortably align with the prevailing evangelical consensus.
Postmillennialists and premillennialists should have a place at the table. Baptists, Presbyterians, Catholics, and other Christians should have a place at the table. Professing Christians who affirm LGBTQ relationships, support abortion rights, favor expansive government programs, or hold other positions commonly associated with the political left should have a place at the table as well.
Saying they should have a place in public debate is not claiming their theology is sound or equally truthful. It simply means that religious liberty does not require theological agreement before citizens may participate in civic life.
Each person may enter the public square, make arguments, persuade voters, advocate legislation, and seek, through constitutional means, to shape public policy, provided that the resulting laws respect constitutional rights and freedom of conscience.
A Christian legislator who believes human life is sacred because human beings bear the image of God should be free to bring that conviction into debates about abortion. A Christian who believes biblical compassion supports an expansive welfare state should be free to make that case. Another Christian who believes Scripture’s teaching on work, family, personal responsibility, and voluntary generosity points toward a more limited governmental role should be equally free to argue that position.
Christians will always disagree. Still, such disagreement among professing Christians is not Christian nationalism, nor does vigorous Christian participation in government automatically become Christian nationalism merely because Christians sometimes persuade their fellow citizens to enact their positions into law.
For nearly two and a half centuries, the American constitutional system has provided a framework in which citizens with profoundly different religious, moral, and political convictions can contend openly for the direction of their government. The system has never worked perfectly, and Americans have often failed to live consistently with its principles. Yet its basic method remains sound: citizens argue, persuade, vote, legislate, challenge laws in court, and sometimes keep the debate going.
This is why the indiscriminate use of the term “Christian nationalism,” without clearly defining what it means, is unhelpful. In my judgment, Greear does not sufficiently distinguish the specific forms of governmental religious authority he rightly opposes from the much broader phenomenon of vigorous Christian political engagement. When ordinary Christian participation in the political process is lumped together with religious coercion or government-controlled Christianity, Christians may begin to fear the very engagement our system permits.
The Eschatological Question
This brings me to what I believe is one of the most significant weaknesses in Greear’s argument: its practical implications.
I strongly believe in the return of Jesus Christ. I eagerly await it. I have preached it throughout my ministry.
Nonetheless, over the years, I have sometimes said that some Christians seem so busy studying the Rapture that they neglect the responsibilities God has given them on earth.
Biblical eschatology was never meant to make Christians into spectators. Our Lord did not teach us to sit with folded hands, waiting for Him to come again and straighten everything out. He taught us to be faithful until He comes.
More importantly, Jesus taught His disciples to pray: “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).
We know we cannot consummate the kingdom of God. No election, legislature, president, or political movement can. Jesus Christ Himself will bring His kingdom in its fullness.
But surely the Model Prayer means much more than “Lord, someday come and make everything right.” Christ teaches us to desire that God’s will be done on earth now.
We pray for God’s will to be done in our personal lives, and then we seek to obey Him. We pray for God’s will to be done in our families, and then we labor to order our families according to His Word. We pray for God’s will to be done in our churches, and pastors spend their lives teaching, correcting, shepherding, and reforming those churches in accordance with Scripture.
So why, then, should we suddenly become hesitant about seeking God’s will when we enter the public square?
Greear is right that Christians should be realistic about what government can accomplish. But realism should not translate into pessimism. Christian history gives us abundant reason to believe that faithful Christian engagement can profoundly influence the world for good.
The late Dr. D. James Kennedy and Jerry Newcombe documented this in What If Jesus Had Never Been Born? and What If the Bible Had Never Been Written? They highlighted Christian influence in establishing hospitals and organized charity, expanding education and literacy, developing universities, promoting humanitarian reform, contributing to the rise of modern science, shaping law and civil liberties, and producing some of the greatest achievements in art, music, and literature.
None of these accomplishments brought the kingdom of God in its fullness, nor did they make society perfect. Yet they were hardly insignificant.
Those historical advances came about because Christians did not conclude from their eschatology that little good could come from faithful engagement with government and culture, or that there was no point in “shining the brass on a sinking ship.” They did not reason that, because Babylon remains Babylon or because Christ alone will finally establish His kingdom, their efforts to influence society were therefore of limited consequence. They did not retreat from the world because it was fallen. Instead, they engaged it vigorously, believing that faithfulness required them to bring Christian truth to bear on every sphere of life. And the results have clearly changed the world for the better.
If human life bears God’s image, marriage reflects God’s design, children deserve protection, and religious liberty rests on God alone as Lord of the conscience, then these truths necessarily have implications beyond the church’s walls today. Christians may, and therefore should, passionately seek laws that protect life, restrain exploitation, preserve liberty, and promote justice.
None of this means Christians believe that they can create heaven on earth. It means they believe Christ’s lordship has consequences for the earth in the here and now.
Greear says there is no kingdom without the King.
Certainly, but neither is there any “square inch” of human existence over which King Jesus is not already Lord!
Christ’s kingdom will not be consummated until He returns. His authority is not postponed until His return. Christians who confess Christ as Lord cannot confine that confession to the church house on Sunday mornings. Christ is Lord now, and faithful believers should seek to live and work to see that He is recognized as Lord in every sphere of life.
Babylon Is Still Our Responsibility
Greear is right that Babylon remains Babylon. Still, that raises another critical question:
What are God’s people supposed to do while living in Babylon?
Jeremiah’s answer to the Jewish exiles is instructive. They were not living in Jerusalem or governing a covenant nation. They were living under a pagan government in Babylon. Yet God told them, “Seek the peace of the city whither I have caused you to be carried away captives” (Jeremiah 29:7).
They were not told that Babylon would become Jerusalem. Instead, they were told to seek Babylon’s good.
Again, this distinction matters greatly.
Christians do not have to believe that America is the new Israel, that the United States is equal to the kingdom of God, or that every governmental institution will eventually become Christianized. But while we are here, we still have responsibilities. Government itself has responsibilities and is accountable to the Almighty.
Romans 13 teaches that God ordains civil authority to punish wrongdoing and commend what is good. Government cannot regenerate the human heart, but it can prosecute murder. It cannot make people sexually pure, but it can punish sexual exploitation. It cannot make citizens generous, but it can punish fraud and theft. It cannot produce Christian character, but it can protect innocent life, preserve public order, defend liberty, and establish laws that are consistent with justice.
The danger, then, is not merely that Christians may try to make government do what only Christ can do. The danger, and I firmly believe it is the larger, clear and present danger, is that Christians may become so wary of political power that they neglect the very purpose for which government is ordained.
Political Idolatry and Political Abdication
Yes, the church must guard against political idolatry. We should never confuse an election victory with revival, a political party with the kingdom of God, or legislation with the Holy Spirit’s regenerative work. We should never treat political opponents as beyond the reach of God’s grace, nor should we give government authority over doctrine, conscience, or the gospel.
Greear’s warnings on these matters are worth hearing.
But Christians must also guard against political abdication, which I suggest is now the greater threat. What makes this so serious is that the public square does not remain empty when Christians leave it. Others will participate, bringing their own moral convictions and understanding of the common good, convictions that are often inconsistent with a faithful Christian worldview.
Someone will decide what our laws say about life, what children may be taught, what constitutes marriage, what rights parents have over their children, and how society responds to pornography, gambling, intoxicating drugs, crime, poverty, religious liberty, and human dignity.
No public square is morally neutral.
So, Christians should not fear or apologize for entering the political fray – not because politics is our hope, government is our savior, America is the kingdom of God, or Christians can perfect society before Jesus returns, but because Jesus Christ is Lord.
Christian faithfulness requires humility about what politics may accomplish, but it also requires courage to pursue what politics legitimately can accomplish. We must beware of turning eschatological realism into cultural resignation or of becoming so afraid of political idolatry that we neglect political stewardship.
Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.”
Surely, we should not pray for something we are unwilling to work toward.
We are not building the kingdom.
We are serving the King.
While we wait for the King to return, we have much work to do in the political arena. We should pursue that work energetically and enthusiastically, without confusing Christian influence on government with government control of Christianity, and without becoming so preoccupied with the possibility of future governmental overreach that we allow such fears to restrain the legitimate influence Christians ought to exercise today.
