Cultivating Unity in a Politically Diverse Church
Editor’s Note: How to Reach the West Again is Timothy Keller and City to City’s book on starting a new missionary encounter with Western culture. We invited ministers from around the world to respond to, extend, and engage that vision.
Intellectual arguments for Christianity don’t carry much weight in a polarized culture. Social arguments are stronger. For missional reasons, the church needs to be the sort of community for which Jesus prays in John 17, a community that “makes the case” for Jesus by demonstrating his startling ability to overcome the customarily divisive grip that race, gender, and economics have on us. To mirror the surrounding culture by reflecting its political divisions is to “prove” that the cross did not matter, Jesus cannot pray effectively, and the Holy Spirit cannot resist social pressure.
What follows is the story of a church that has sought to make the social case for Jesus by bridging political divides.
Before America’s presidential election in 2016, Emmanuel Presbyterian Church, which I planted twenty years ago near Columbia University in Manhattan, held a congregational forum. Two members—a Republican and a Democrat—shared how they were going to vote and why. They then answered questions from the pastor, each other, and the congregation about their political thinking, including the impact of their backgrounds and work environment on their thinking.
Following a brief talk by the pastor on turning down political heat at church, the members broke into small groups to discuss hot topics. They went home relieved, and not a little surprised, that they had been able to talk so honestly and amicably with each other. Here are some responses to the event:
“I can't overstate how much I would recommend workshops like this in a church setting.”
“Churches that do not offer [panels like] this leave members quietly tired and terrified.”
“What I found comforting during the workshop was knowing that I could voice my thoughts, and even if someone disagreed with me, I could still find them post-election and hug them. The church is truly my family.”
“I am hopeful that this discussion will continue beyond the election, and that the church can unite to bring peace and reconciliation to a country that is at the moment caught in despair, fear, and frustration.”
Living with political diversity is not easy: thoughtful communities are bound to disagree over how best to love their neighbors. It is not easy, for example, to find complete agreement on how to love our neighbors when one of them is an unborn child and the other is the mother who cannot afford for medical, social, or psychological reasons to carry that child to term. Trying to figure out how neighborly love should influence political decisions in such a situation calls for careful thinking, humble listening, and, in some cases, a decision to live with disagreement.
But the congregation of Emmanuel has tried to see that silence is not a useful remedy on such difficult matters. It creates “faux” community, isolating people from each other in significant areas, feeding divisive stereotypes which will likely surface explosively, and depriving communities of the possibility of reaching towards political solutions.
Trying to figure out how neighborly love should influence political decisions in such a situation calls for careful thinking, humble listening, and, in some cases, a decision to live with disagreement.
The church culture that made our 2016 forum and its results possible did not spring up overnight. There had been similar forums prior to the national elections in 2004, 2008, and 2012. For each one, the panel participants were chosen carefully—all of them people of character and grace with good public standing so as to assure that they would receive a hearing. The panelists were from inside the church community, so as to avoid the impression that the church was “selling” something through outsiders. In no case were they church officers, keeping church power out of the mix. In every case the panelists, prior to the meeting, shared with each other what they were going to say and prayed together. Both meeting and praying together proved particularly important, praying because it celebrated their dependence upon the God who is bigger than their differences, meeting because it helped ensure that the interchange would be “humanized” as much as possible: it is difficult to demonize a person or her ideas when you have had a thoughtful person-to-person exchange before going public.
There is more to setting the tone for dialogue than a series of carefully-wrought forums. If biblical truth sets the agenda for the weekly teaching rather than current events, congregants are reminded of the high and humbling truths that bind them rather than the lesser truths that divide them. Some prominent humbling truths: our wisdom is finite, our motives are mixed, and our insights are heavily influenced by our own stories and agendas. Some prominent high truths: God is infinitely wise and powerful, he is loving and good, he has walked and suffered among us for our good, and he will one day put everything right. Our congregants should be less likely to fight with each other over politics if they are routinely alerted to their fallibilities and comforted by God’s sufficiency.
Our congregants should be less likely to fight with each other over politics if they are routinely alerted to their fallibilities and comforted by God’s sufficiency.
We also need ample teaching about idolatry. Human stories and agendas, so influential in political behavior and thinking, are themselves influenced by the tendency to make substitute gods out of the good things in life. Because those good things are fragile, easily broken, or stolen, they set us up for fear and anger. This happens in politics, for example, when we put too much hope in political solutions or in what we imagine America once was or might be. Knowing this dynamic of the heart, we can temper inducements to political action with reminders that there is no quick fix to be found, encouraging patience as the church family awaits God’s ultimate justice.
Two other distinctions may prove helpful as we frame our teaching.
One is between the “theocrat” and the “influencer” in all of us. The “theocrat within” (to be wary of) tends to identify a particular group or strategy with God and his strategy. Their chief aim is to see that group or strategy win, and, because winning is so important, they will, unless they are vigilant, tend to be less concerned with motives and methods than with advancing what they believe God wants. The “theocrat within” tends not to care as much as they should, for example, about getting the facts right and listening respectfully to the “opposition’s” point of view and story, behavior that causes social heat to rise.
The “influencer within” (to be encouraged) is different. They don’t deny that Jesus the King aims at a better world, but they keep reminding themselves that Jesus’ sword issues from his mouth and not his hand (Revelation 1:16). Persuasion, rather than force, is their Master’s preferred method, and so it is theirs. They see those of the “opposition party” as their friends and do all they can to come alongside them to hear them out and serve their aims wherever there is common cause. Because winning is not their aim, they are not crushed or infuriated by losing, nor are they tempted to manipulate. What drives them is faithfulness: if something wonderful and culture-changing catches on because of their efforts, great; if nothing changes and they suffer for their faithfulness, that’s okay, too. Outcomes are Jesus’ business, not theirs.
A second “heat-reducing” distinction is between moral principles and political strategies. Moral principles are the high commands of God: love God with all you’ve got and love your neighbor as yourself. Political strategies are fallible human efforts to nudge the culture in the direction of greater conformity to the former.
For example, any biblical church should care for the poor. But when it comes to the matter of implementation, Christians can honestly disagree over which public policies are the best. Some say that the preferred strategy is to increase taxes and government spending on behalf of the poor. Others say that government should get out of the way and allow a deregulated economy to expand everyone’s benefit (including the poor’s).
Keeping strategies and principles distinct helps members to see that those they politically disagree with are not enemies of them and enemies of God.
However, church should be a community where members can safely argue with each other over the merits of political strategies because of the care taken to distinguish those strategies from the high values that bind the church family. Conflating strategies and values tempts people to see those with opposing strategies as second-class Christians (people of diminished spiritual credibility). It causes relationships to grow shallow and wary. Keeping strategies and principles distinct helps members to see that those they disagree with politically are not enemies of them and enemies of God. With less at stake, talking and listening become easier, building a safer and more honest community.
From time to time, members can be encouraged to meet for a “political cup of coffee” with someone in the church whose politics differs from theirs. The rules of engagement: Promise to listen rather than argue; keep your promise; look for common ground in moral principle; agree to disagree where you must; pray for one another where you can; celebrate the God who binds you above your differences by taking the Lord’s Supper together as soon as possible.
In any case, it’s wise not to talk about politics all the time—especially not on election eve, when everyone is wound up. (Offering election eve advice is like giving teenagers a talk on sexual ethics while they’re holding hands on a park bench during a warm summer evening.) But neither can the church be silent about politics, for that would leave an important and increasingly heart-engaging element of people’s lives unaddressed. The church should seek to model safe political conversation across the aisle, and encourage its members to be engaged socially and politically. These things should be done out of a sense of mission, embracing the notion that the church is the “body of Christ” on earth—the place where Christ is to be found, heard, and felt—the down payment on the society that will cover the earth when Christ finishes his work. People need more than an argument. They need love.
About the Author
Charles Drew founded Emmanuel Presbyterian Church of Manhattan in 2000. His recently released book, Surprised by Community: Republicans and Democrats in the Same Pew, suggests practices and ways of thinking that help church people engage politically while making room for one another when their political convictions differ. He also serves on the executive board of the Washington D.C.-based Center for Christian Civics. He also teaches for City to City’s training programs.