Gregory Boyd has run the spiritual gamut: from Roman
Catholic to atheist to Pentecostal to orthodox Christianity. His theological
education includes Yale and Princeton.
Currently,
Boyd
is Senior Pastor of Woodland Hills Church in St. Paul, Minnesota and is one of
the leading spokesmen in the growing Neo-Anabaptism[1] movement, which is based
in the tradition of Anabaptism and advocates Christian pacifism and a
non-violent understanding of God.
Boyd has also long been known as a leading advocate of open
theism.[2] In addition, he is a noted
Christian anarchist and is known for his writings on the relationship between Christianity
and politics, including his best-selling book The Myth of a Christian Nation:
How the Quest for Political Power Is Destroying the Church. The book was
written after the New York Times published a front-page cover article on
Boyd's criticism of the Christian right.[3] In 2010, Boyd was listed
as one of the twenty most influential living Christian scholars.
The excerpt that follows is perhaps the most important few
paragraphs I’ve read in a long, long time! It comprises the last few pages of
the third chapter of Boyd’s book, The
Myth of a Christian Nation. Aside from some deletions (indicated) it is
presented verbatim.[4]
CONSERVATIVES AND LIBERALS WITHIN THE SAME KINGDOM
Jesus would simply not allow the world to set the terms of
his engagement with the world. This explains how (and perhaps why) he could
call Matthew, a tax collector, as well as Simon, a zealot, to be his disciples
(Matt. 10:3 – 4). Tax collectors were on the farthest right wing of Jewish
politics, zealots on the farthest left wing. To compare them to, say, Ralph
Nader and Rush Limbaugh wouldn’t come close. In fact, historical records
indicate that the zealots despised tax collectors even more than they despised
the Romans, for tax collectors not only paid taxes to support the Roman
government (something zealots deplored), but they actually made their living
collecting taxes from other Jews on Rome’s behalf . Even worse, tax collectors
often enhanced their income by charging more than was due and keeping the
difference. For this reason, zealots sometimes assassinated tax collectors!
Yet Matthew and Simon spent three years together ministering
alongside Jesus. No doubt they had some interesting fireside chats about
politics. But what is positively amazing is that they ministered together with
Jesus to advance the kingdom of God. Just as interesting, we never find a word
in the Gospels about their different political opinions. Indeed, we never read
a word about what Jesus thought about their radically different kingdom-of-the-world
views.
What this silence suggests is that, in following Jesus,
Matthew and Simon had something in common that dwarfed their individual
political differences in significance, as extreme as these differences were.
This silence points to the all-important distinctness of the kingdom of God
from every version of the kingdom of the world. To be sure, Jesus’ life and
teachings would undoubtedly transform the trust both had in their political
views if they would allow it. At the very least, as the reign of God took hold
in their lives, the tax collector would no longer cheat his clients and the
zealot no longer kill his opponents. Yet Jesus invited them both to follow him
as they were, prior to their transformation, and their widely divergent political views were never a point of
contention with Jesus [emphasis mine].
What are we to make, then, of the fact that the evangelical
church is largely divided along political lines? The Christian position is
declared to be Matthew’s among conservatives, Simon’s among liberals. While
Jesus never sided with any of the limited and divisive kingdom-of-the-world
options routinely set before him, the church today, by and large, swallows them
hook, line, and sinker. Indeed, in some circles, whether conservative or
liberal, taking particular public stands on social, ethical, and political
issues, and siding with particular political or social ideologies, is the
litmus test of one’s orthodoxy. In many quarters, individuals and groups with
different opinions about which version of the kingdom of the world is best
don’t have friendly fireside chats. If they communicate at all, it’s shouting
across picket lines![5]
What this suggests is that the church has been co-opted by
the world. To a large degree, we’ve lost our distinct kingdom-of-God vision and
abandoned our mission. We’ve allowed the world to define us, set our agenda,
and define the terms of our engagement with it. We’ve accepted the limited and
divisive kingdom-of-the-world options and therefore mirror the kingdom-of-the-world
conflicts. Because of this, we have not sought wisdom from above (James 3:17),
the wisdom Jesus consistently displayed that would help us discern a unique
kingdom-of-God approach to issues to empower our moving beyond the stalemates
and tit-for-tat conflicts that characterize the kingdom of the world. Instead, we’ve
made these conflicts our own as we fight with each other over “the Christian”
option.
We have lost the simplicity of the kingdom of God and have
largely forsaken the difficult challenge of living out the kingdom. We have
forgotten, if ever we were taught, the simple principle that the kingdom of God
looks like Jesus and that our sole task as kingdom people is to mimic the love
he revealed on Calvary. We have to a large degree gone AWOL on the kingdom of
God, allowing it to be reduced to a religious version of the world. The world
supplies the options, and in direct contradiction to Jesus’ example, we think
it’s our job to pronounce which one God thinks is right.
A DIFFICULT SIMPLICITY
Our central job is not to solve the world’s problems. Our
job is to draw our entire life from Christ and manifest that life to others.
Nothing could be simpler—and nothing could be more challenging. Perhaps this
partly explains why we have allowed ourselves to be so thoroughly co-opted by
the world. It’s hard to communicate to a prostitute her unsurpassable worth by
taking up a cross for her, serving her for years, gradually changing her on the
inside, and slowly winning the trust to speak into her life (and letting her
speak into our life, for we too are sinners). Indeed, this sort of Calvary-like
love requires one to die to self.
It is much
easier, and more gratifying, to assume a morally superior stance and feel good
about doing our Christian duty to vote against “the sin of prostitution”
[emphasis mine].
Perhaps this explains why many evangelicals spend more time
fighting against certain sinners in the political arena than they do
sacrificing for those sinners. But Jesus calls us and empowers us to follow his
example by taking the more difficult, less obvious, much slower, and more
painful road—the Calvary road. It is the road of self-sacrificial love.
When we adopt this distinct kingdom-of-God stance,
everything changes. While living in the kingdom of the world, of course, we
still wrestle with tax and inheritance issues. And we should do so as decently
and as effectively as possible. But our unique calling as kingdom people is not
to come up with God’s opinion of the right solution to these issues. Our unique
calling is simply to replicate Christ’s sacrificial love in service to the
world.
When we return to the simplicity and difficulty of the
kingdom of God, the question that defines us is no longer, “What are the
Christian policies and candidates?” No, when love is placed above all kingdom-of-the-world
concerns (Col. 3:14; 1 Peter 4:8), the kingdom-of-the-world options placed
before us dwindle in significance—as much as Matthew’s and Simon’s fireside
opinions were dwarfed in significance by their common allegiance to Jesus. For
we, like Matthew and Simon know that the one question we are commanded to
wrestle with is this: “How do we love like Christ loves?” Or to ask the same
question in different ways: “How do we communicate to others the unsurpassable
worth they have before God? How can we individually and collectively serve in
this particular context? How can we ‘come under’ people here and now? How can
we demonstrate Calvary love to every person?” The revolution Jesus came to
bring was “a genuinely human one,” as Andre Trocme notes. “People, not
principles, were his concern.”[6]
We need not be able to figure out how society should tax its
citizens, enforce inheritance laws, or deal with prostitutes. Neither Jesus,
nor Paul, nor any New Testament author gave inspired pronouncements about such
matters. But that does not prevent us from washing the feet of overly taxed
citizens, disgruntled younger brothers, and despised prostitutes. Jesus and the
New Testament authors gave plenty of inspired pronouncements about that.
[1] Kevin de Young identifies “the
low church, counter-cultural, prophetic-stance-against-empire ethos present in
the emergent and evangelical-left conversations (as) a contemporary form of the
Anabaptist tradition. [https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/kevin-deyoung/neo-anabaptists/]
[2] Open Theism is the thesis that, because God loves us
and desires that we freely choose to reciprocate His love, He has made His
knowledge of, and plans for, the future conditional upon our actions. Though
omniscient, God does not know what we will freely do in the future. [http://www.iep.utm.edu/o-theism/]
[3] Goodstein, Laurie (July 30, 2006). "Disowning
Conservative Politics, Evangelical Pastor Rattles Flock". The New York Times.
[4] Boyd, Gregory A.. The Myth of a Christian Nation: How the
Quest for Political Power Is Destroying the Church (pp. 62-65). Zondervan.
Kindle Edition.
[5] Eller’s comment is relevant: “A prime
characteristic of worldly politics is its invariable framing of itself as an ‘adversarial
contest.’ There has to be a battle. One party, ideology, cause, group, lobby,
or power bloc which has designated itself as ‘the Good, the True, and the
Beautiful’ sets out to overbear, overwhelm, overcome, overpower, or otherwise
impose itself on whatever opposing parties think they deserve the title.” And
it is “a power contest among the morally pretentious.” [Vernard Eller, Christian Anarchy: Jesus’ Primacy over the
Powers (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1987).]
[6] Andre Trocme , Jesus and the Non - Violent Revolution (Farmington, Penn.: The
Bruderhof Foundation , 2004 ), p. 132.