So, this morning, we find ourselves at an interesting intersection. On one hand, we are now a little more than three weeks out from a presidential election which is pervasively in the news right now. On the other, as we’ve been working through the book of Romans, we come to a passage that explicitly addresses how we are to think of governing authorities. And so this morning, it seems appropriate to consider together what the Bible has to say about politics.  

Which might seem like not so great news to you. Perhaps you, like many of us, right now feel thoroughly burnt out on political discussion. And, what’s more, you may well be also thinking, “I’m not sure that preaching and politics should go together.” Perhaps you know of churches that heavily focus on specific political issues, or host political candidates to give speeches, or even put guides about how a Christian should vote, and you feel very uncomfortable about the idea.

And I want to say that it’s right for us to feel uncomfortable about this. Something has gone wrong when churches become focused on political elections in that way. But I want to suggest that what’s gone wrong is not that pastors have decided to bring politics into the pulpit. The problem is that, more often than not, pastors are simply doing it wrong.  

It’s worth pausing for a moment to define terms. Politics is simply the question of how a society is to be ordered. We human beings don’t work well when we try to stay on our own. We only flourish and prosper when we work together in communities, tribes, nations. And so the perennial question is how—how do we do this together? Do we all just come together in one massive huddle to decide everything? Do we just appoint one guy to figure it all out? Does everyone just do their own thing without any sort of coordination? That’s what politics is about.

And it’s not just about structures. It’s about answering questions about community: who are we—what defines us? How do we get along—what’s our system of justice? How do we overcome threats—where is our communal strength to be found? And what is our purpose—what do we stand for? Those discussions are political discussions.

Okay, with that understanding in mind, I want to suggest that many Christians make a big mistake in the way we talk and think about politics. When we talk about social identity, many Christians focus on immigration. With questions of justice the focus often turns to the Supreme Court. To find strength against threats many Christians focus on the American military or the power of the economy. Amidst all of this, often, like the rest of American society, when it comes to politics, Christians focus our attention on one thing in particular: voting for particular men or women to be our leaders.  

And that’s a mistake. Because the Christian political vision is significantly different from this. Whether we realize it or not, biblical Christianity is deeply, deeply political—but not in the way we might think.

Eternal Politics

• When Jesus came to this earth, do you know what was the gospel that he proclaimed? “The kingdom of God is at hand: repent and believe!” The KINGDOM: that is a political declaration about how society is to be ordered. 

• When Jesus rose from the dead, what did he say about his resurrection? “All authority on heaven and on earth has been given to me.” Authority: he was saying that his resurrection was his enthronement. At the cross he conquered the enemy, and now he reigns as the king of heaven and earth. Which means the cross and resurrection are political: what Jesus accomplished was meant to rightly order society.

• And then what does he tell his followers to do? “Go to all the nations and make disciples, initiating them by baptism and teaching them to obey my commands.” Jesus is saying, “Teach everyone everywhere to come under my kingship.” That’s a political mission statement.

And Paul understands this. Back in Romans 10, do you remember what he says about how someone becomes a Christian? “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is” what—that Jesus is LORD and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead—that is, that he enthroned Jesus—you will be saved. A Christian is someone who holds to a very specific political view.

And Christians in that day would have recognized how political this is. In that day, your Roman political identity was tied to allegiance to the emperor. The emperor propaganda presented Caesar Augustus and the emperors that followed as the bringers of peace and prosperity. The Roman justice system was the pride of Rome and the emperor seen as the highest standard of justice. And in him was seen Rome’s purpose: might and glory. The emperor was the center of the common political vision—so much so that the emperors of the day, such as Caligula and Nero, claimed the title, “Lord of all?”  

Can you imagine how dangerous it would have been for early the Christian church to deny that and say, No. Jesus is Lord? To say that the truest society’s identity isn’t in Caesar but in Christ, joining his kingdom through baptism. That the justice of Rome is only a shadow of where true justice is to be found, in the cross and rule of Jesus. To say that Caesar offers an empty salvation and that true peace and joy are only found in the power of Jesus? 

It would cost them dearly. In the third century, faithful Christians lost their lives because they refused to offer incense before the image of the emperor as a sign of ultimate allegiance to show that people’s ultimate allegiance was to him. They refused to do this and were killed, because their political allegiance was different. Because at the heart of Christianity is the political understanding that Jesus and nobody else is Lord. 

Early Christians wouldn’t understand the distinction some make today between religious allegiance and political allegiance, as if they’re somehow two different categories. Jesus isn’t just king of your church service, or king of your prayer time. Jesus is King. And his claim is on all of your life. And not just your king or my king—Jesus is the God-appointed king of the world, even over those who don’t know it. Jesus is Lord: That is the truest political statement one can make.

Which I realize might seem like a strange thing to say. Because have you looked at the world? It certainly doesn’t look like Jesus is king of all. But sometimes there can be a massive difference between what people see and what actually is.

I just finished David McCullough’s fascinating biography of the Wright brothers. One thing I hadn’t realized before was that there was a significant amount of time between the first ever powered flight and the first public flight. In December of 1903 in Kitty Hawk, after a long period of experimentation, the Wright flyer, with wings made out of an ash wood and cotton muslin, powered by two propellers, achieved repeated self-powered flight, the longest lasting just under a minute. It wasn’t big, but it was significant. For the first time in human history, the problem of how a human could fly was solved. Everything else after that was working out the implications, and the Wright brothers knew it.

But the rest of the world did not. When the Wrights informed the local Dayton paper of what happened, the editor refused to publish it, believing it to be nonsense. When Orville and Wilbur returned to Dayton and began further experiments in the back of their bicycle shop, and then in a large nearby field, most of the world knew nothing: rumors that got out were dismissed as wild exaggerations. The Wrights contacted the US Department of War to let them know what they had accomplished, and they received a form letter, ignoring them. Even most of their own town thought they were will intentioned kooks. The world had changed; humans now could fly—and almost nobody knew it.

But then 5 years later Wilbur in France flew a much more refined version of the Wright Flyer, and everyone could not help but see the truth. In that moment, all doubt and controversy fell away. As one French journalist, a man who previously had ridiculed the Wright’s claims, put it, “”The Wrights have completely dissipated all doubts. Not one of the former detractors of the Wrights dare question, today, the previous experiments of the men who were truly the first to fly.” 

At the cross and resurrection, Jesus conquered Satan, he overcame evil, he dealt with our guilt, he beat death itself. In that moment he became king with authority and power to rule this world. But his kingship is not yet fully known. There will be a day when it is. There will be a day when even the biggest doubters and opponents of Christ’s kingship will have to acknowledge the truth, when, as Paul tells us, “Every knee shall bow and ever tongue confess that Jesus is LORD.” Some will say this with joy, seeing their deepest longings realized; others will bow down with terror and profound regret, but everyone will acknowledge the true political reality. 

But in the meantime, just as the Wright brothers took time to accomplish their goals before going fully public, Jesus also is delaying the moment when all becomes clear. We are told that right now Jesus is ruling from heaven. Heaven is not a location, Jesus is not away on vacation, or something. Heaven refers to that sphere of divine realities that are currently hidden but that will one day become visible. Jesus is king now, and one day all will see. But he’s ruling invisibly, delaying that final moment so that he can accomplish something important. He is at work spreading word of his victory to give people throughout the world time to turn to him and acknowledge his rule and experience his salvation. Jesus is the king now; that is the political reality. But his rule is not yet plain for all to see. It is the period, as some call it, of the now but not yet.

Within this complicated overlap between the now and not yet, the church has a specific calling. The church is where Christ’s heavenly, eternal kingship is meant to be made visible now on earth. It’s meant to be where God’s will begins to be done on earth as it is in heaven; where the “not yet” begins to become the “now.” As we are surrounded by people who do not yet acknowledge the one who is the rightful king, we are supposed to be mini-cities that are publicly living out our allegiance to the one who is Lord of all.

That’s actually what Romans 12 has been about—about how to live this out as Jesus’ “body politic”: the body of Christ, the King. Paul has told that Christ’s rule is for us to love each other within this body; that is what it looks like to “serve the Lord.” And, also like our King, our political communities work to love and even lay down our lives for those who disagree with and even oppose us. For that is the way of the cross, the way of our Lord. And so this is how we live under his rule. We are meant to be where Christ’s kingship is made visible on earth.

Earthly Authorities

Now there’s a question that naturally follows from all of this. So, um, if Jesus is the King, and all authority has been given to him, and we’re supposed to be the people who live out this reality, what do we do about earthly authorities? Does that simply mean that the emperor and other earthly governors are to be completely disregarded as unimportant, irrelevant? Well, no.

You see in the time of the overlap between the now and the not yet, there also needs to be two overlapping political realities. Because Christ’s rule is heavenly and not yet visible, God also provides for us provisional, temporary, earthly administrators, caretakers meant to hold the fort down and keep society from falling apart until our true king comes in glory. 

That’s what Paul is talking about here in Romans 13. He says in verse 1, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God.” Yes, Jesus is Lord. But governing authorities also play a role. Notice, briefly, three things that these verses tell us about relating to earthly leaders.

Appointed by God
First, human governments, whatever they are, are ultimately appointed by God. “There is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.” Wherever government exists—whether we’re talking about the Roman emperor in that day, or closer to home the American government or the communist system in China, these governments only exist because God has brought them to power. That might seem strange to say, when you consider how bad some governments have been. And to say that God has appointed them is not the same thing as God endorsing what they do. The point here is that government itself is part of God’s provision.

In this “now but not yet” time, earthly government is crucial for the well-being of society. If you’ve been following the events of Haiti, you know what happens when a society lacks a functioning government: the chaos, the violence of gangs, the starvation from disorder. God in his providence has appointed temporary earthly governments to hold things together. All authorities gain their power through God.

For justice
Secondly, these temporary earthly governments have a primary purpose: to promote what is good and to punish what is evil. Verse 4 says the earthly ruler “is God’s servant for your good. If you do wrong, he bears the sword because he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer.” In other words, the primary purpose of earthly authorities is to administer justice. 

You might remember last week how Paul warns us against seeking vengeance on the wrongdoer, instead leaving place for God’s wrath and vengeance. There is an ultimate, final sense, where we can take comfort in the knowledge that all will be made right in the end. But here we see that part of how God brings justice in the present is through the state: he bears the sword to carry out God’s wrath upon the wrongdoer. This is why when someone has been wronged, it is right to call the police. Because that’s the God-appointed role for the state—to bring justice.

Therefore, support as best as you can.
And that leads us to the third thing we are meant to see here. Because these human authorities are appointed by God for the important task of promoting good and administer justice, our calling in the church is to support them as best we can. That’s clear throughout the passage, right? Be subject to them, he says in verse 1, don’t resist them, verse 2. Do what is good in a way that your leaders approve of, verse 3. Verse 5 probably is saying that we should follow the rules of our leaders, not just out of fear of being punished, but out of commitment to serving God: our support of our leaders is not resentful but willing. Verse 6 tells us that, viewed rightly, you should even see paying taxes as a form of worship! Because your leaders are ministers of God, and with the fruit of your labor you support them in their God-given task. We are called to support our government as best as we can.

Now, if this seems like too rosy of a picture about earthly governments, we should remember that Paul is not naïve. He knows that earthly authorities often fail in their task to administer justice. Jesus was crucified under Pontius Pilate, the earthly authority. Paul has himself been unjustly beaten by rulers on more than one occasion. In saying these things, Paul is not forbidding thoughtful critique of government: part of the way we can support our leaders in fulfilling their God-appointed role is through thoughtful debate and well-intentioned entreaties to our leaders to live up to their calling.  

What’s more, Paul knows that there are times when rulers will even seek to oppose the kingship of Jesus and his righteousness. And in those situations, the Christian’s duty is clear: they answer to Christ above any earthly, temporary authority. 

But even with those caveats, do you see how Paul’s vision here for how we are to be politically is different from how many Christians today are?

In our day, so much time and effort are spent on trying to answer the question, “How do we get the right person in power.” And while that question is not unimportant, Paul tells us that what should be much more significant to us is the question, “How can we support whoever God has currently put in power?” Not uncritically supportive, not agreeing with or promoting things that we believe to be immoral. But where we can, we are to support leaders in accomplishing the difficult job they have been given. We are to pray for them regularly. We are to willingly support them with our tax money. We are to seek to make their jobs easier with our actions. Because that’s how we serve our true king.

Our failure to see this is part of a more troubling tendency. It seems that Christians can often allow the question, “How do we get the right person in power” to eclipse the question, “How do I serve and honor my King?” Where Christians can choose to forego love and kindness and truthfulness and gentleness all in order to win. And the problem isn’t just that this is immoral. It’s that it completely gets the politics wrong. It fails to understand what we are. We are the people of the eternal king, and our fundamental calling is to live out his eternal rule in every way.

Look, again, Scripture is not saying there’s no relevance to the political process—some leaders are better for society than others. And it’s not saying that it’s wrong for Christians to run for office—that’s a way we can serve God and society. Yet notice how Paul’s instructions here puts earthly politics in their place. Roman propaganda depicts the emperor as the god-like, powerful center of the world. But Paul reminds us, he’s just a servant. Yeah, he has a role of significance—but under God. And, he does not come to this position by his own strength—it only happens because God has appointed it, and God can always take it away. And really, the emperor or king or president—they’re all only at best middle level managers, meant to temporarily administer justice. These leaders are really quite small in the scheme of things when you compare any of them to the one who is the eternal king.  

Here’s some good news. The fate of our world will not hang upon what happens on November 5. The fate of the world hung upon a day that already took place 2000 years ago, and let me tell you, what happened was awesome and eternal; nothing can ever alter the simple fact that Jesus has won.

Almost certainly in the coming weeks and months that follow, whoever the elected leader might be, he or she will make some decisions that we feel are good. And it will be right for us to seek to support that leader in that and pray for that leader. And that person will also almost certainly do some things that we believe are wrong, and perhaps even unjust. And it will be right for us to speak critically while also respectfully, and to pray for that leader. But whatever the balance is between wrong and right decisions, Jesus will still be king. He will still be the one making the world right. And in the end all will see it.

 

Our calling—our political calling as the body politic of Jesus—is in every way to try to make that reality visible now. Look, in an anxious, hyperpolitical age that frets over every poll, we have the opportunity to show something different. Whatever happens we can continue to be a community of joy and hope and love because we know who we are and who our king is. Whoever is in charge, we can continue to seek to love each other, love our world, and, as best as we can, support our temporary, and rather insignificant earthly rulers. We can live as those ruled by the love of Jesus, and when others take notice, well, we can invite them to join us.