Our Political Faith

Written by Ethan Linder

Shopping for groceries. Joining a local running club. Donating to an adoption agency. Going to church. Filing your taxes. Volunteering in a soup kitchen. Joining the GOP. Protesting police brutality.

Are any of these activities political? They all are. Oxford languages defines political as “relating to the public affairs of a country,” or “motivated by a person’s beliefs or actions.” 

Anything that presses us toward shared values, requires our resources--time, talent, money--and empowers social enterprises is political, because it shapes the relationships, policies, and economy of our communities. 

For example, the dollars we spend at the grocery store are disbursed based on the supermarket’s corporate structure. Some money will be paid to employees, executives, and supply-chain workers; others will seep into the corporate structure for overhead, property tax, and other expenses. And the largest supermarkets--with their influence as big corporations-- retain substantial sums as “lobbying funds,” used to levy influence in our systems of government. Whenever you fill your cupboard, your dollars finance the agenda of the corporation from which you purchased. 

Participation in a running club brings us into community with people who share a love for running, but who differ in lifestyle, commitments, and vision of human flourishing. By building these relationships, we expand our vision of the needs in our communities, and we know how (in policy and relationships) we can love our neighbors. The same is true of our charitable giving, attitude toward taxation, volunteer work, denominational affiliation, and participation in how laws are made and enforced in our local and national politics: every one of these activities is based on a vision of human flourishing. Every one of these things is political, because it propels us toward cooperation with others, and helps us shape our communities. 

Every day, each of us has to weigh the impact of our decisions, some of which (e.g. shopping at the closest supermarket, or where we purchase our jeans) are almost subconscious, while others (e.g. voting in an election, or choosing how our children should be educated) require deep intentionality. Some of these issues (like ethical consumption and Christians’ participation in the school system) will be covered in future conversations here on Liminal. 

But for now, the invitation is to remember how:

1) Our actions have visible and invisible ramifications, both for those near to us and those around the world.

2) A Christian view of human flourishing cannot be captured by any single political party. 

Dr. Miranda Zapor Cruz offers a name for this partial-dissonance with any political party: “limited partisan compatibility;” that is, reflecting the need for Christians who participate in partisan politics to sift through issues with attentiveness to the Spirit, empathy toward others, consideration, and critical thought about areas of disagreement and misalignment. In calling Christians to be “salt and light” to the political system (meaning that Christians add flavor and illuminate areas of discord and overlap), Cruz coins the phrase “salty partisanship” for our way of choosing political parties. 

“Salty partisanship recognizes the limits of compatibility. It says, ‘I agree with my party’s position on X, but not on Y, for these reasons.’  ‘I understand my party’s stance on X, but I think their reasoning is flawed.’ ‘My party wants to implement X policy, but I don’t think they’ve adequately considered Y.’  ‘I think the opposing party is right about X.’  ‘I agree with my party’s policy, but I object to the harmful rhetoric they use to defend it.’  ‘I agree with my party’s position, but I do not condone the misinformation and hyperbole they employ to promote it.’ 

If you identify with a political party, but you can’t think of any issues that would lead you to utter these phrases, or if you can’t remember the last time you verbalized a point of disagreement with your party, you are probably not engaging in Salty Partisanship.”

-Dr. Miranda Cruz

Our heart’s condition is rarely more exposed than when we talk about those with whom we disagree. When we insult another person’s intelligence, impugn their motives, and point our fingers in accusation, we reveal ourselves as people more shaped by hostility than by the Lord’s table. When we defend a public figure’s insults, name-calling, and confuse brashness for truth, we reveal a misguided vision of “strength.”

When we comment (with evident condescenscion), “I just hope you do your research,” or “I don’t understand how a Christian could vote for _____,” we’re revealing to the world that our priorities are wrapped around something other than what Jesus invited to in “loving our neighbor as ourselves.” 

If we can pause our combativeness and facilitate dialogue, we may remember that… 

• Voting is a stewardship issue: Our rights as citizens--like everything else we possess--are to be stewarded in love of neighbor and of ourselves.

• Our society has not worked equally for all: many in our country have never needed legislation to provide them with rights. That is the essence of privilege… not the idea that some have endured no obstacles, but that their race/gender has not been an additional obstacle in their equal protection under law. 

• We can share outcomes and disagree on strategies: Those who deem themselves “pro-life” seek fewer/no abortions due to their values on the lives of unborn children; those who call themselves “pro-choice” prefer fewer/no abortions, pursued through preventive care. The moral foundations/values of these two viewpoints are divergent here--this is a legitimate disagreement. Yet the goal remains the same. Characterizing some as “regressive patriarchalists” and others as “heartless murderers,” however, reduces each side to a caricature. It’s possible to assume good-faith in another person while having substantial policy disagreements.

• Christian ethics apply to more than one issue: Christian ethics have much to say about treatment of the poor, the environment, the stranger, the unborn, and individuals with disabilities. Other Christians may emphasize different issues in their decision-making process—and may disagree about which policies produce the results intended by Christian ethics.

• People and societies are morally mixed: Every decision you make has layered implications on your community and our world; as much as we want to characterize people, events, and groups as “good,” or “bad,” there is likely an element of both in every decision you make. The more we can honestly assess ourselves as mixed moral characters, the more likely we are to approach our neighbors and recognize the complexity of their motives--and our own--as they relate to everything from hobbies to purchases to political involvement. 

The message of Jesus is political (with vast implications for how Christians structure our budgets, time, talent, and priorities); it’s not neatly partisan. The reign and rule of God are larger than any political party. While political parties may helpfully advance certain aspects of our vision for human flourishing, to the extent that we uncritically fold our convictions into one political party, we lose our witness, our credibility, and our ability to acknowledge God's capacity for moving in people with whom we disagree.

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Ethan Linder is the Pastor of Hospitality, Collegians, and Young Adults at College Wesleyan Church in Marion, Indiana.

Disclaimer: Liminal is committed to offering diverse viewpoints from leaders within various faith communities; neither Liminal nor our authors will make partisan endorsements; the opinions expressed within this article and any other article on Liminal will be reflective neither of every person within Liminal, nor the organization the authors represent elsewhere. These articles are the author’s opinions alone.