The “gospel of Christiopolitics”

By Donald Laine Clucas

As I sat in the hotel room we were staying in while visiting our youngest son and his family last year in Austin, Texas, my wife, Joanie, handed me a newspaper neatly folded open to an article which she stated was something she was certain would interest me.

Glancing at the opening paragraph of the news article she had handed me, the last few words jumped out at me: “the church is not a political party and […] its distinctive identity and mission must be protected, both for the sake of the church and for the sake of our culture and the world.”¹

“Ah-ha!” I thought. Maybe I’m not crazy! Perhaps there are at least two of us who have thought Christianity, at least in part, is becoming like another political organization.”

The way I see it, many evangelicals, whether overtly or covertly, seem to almost go on a campaign of preaching that Christians should be at least tied, if not “married” (using the terminology of the article’s author) to one particular political party.

I had not always thought this way. In fact, Joanie had lived with me long enough to watch my evolution from a guy who, in the early 1960s, actually thought he had a chance to be a part of the political scene to one who questioned whether or not Christians belonged in politics and government at all. And I had hit all the stops on the “road” of political thinking in between.

Early years
I was raised in a family that paid its political allegiance to Franklin Roosevelt and the Democratic Party. During the 1952 election between Dwight Eisenhower and Adlai Stevenson, when I was 11, I got an initial taste of first-hand politics when a neighbor from across the street asked if I would like to be a volunteer for the Democratic Party and pass out brochures supporting Stevenson. It was a tremendous experience. I went door to door, primarily to people on my newspaper route, and slipped the handbills in their screen doors.

It was in that same year that my father, a veteran of World War II, voted outside of party lines for the first and only time. He came home from having voted in the presidential election at the local school and quietly told me he had cast his vote for General Eisenhower. He also told me not to tell my mother.

Eight years later, I was one of those 19-year-olds who was too young to vote, but who spoke very loudly in support of John F. Kennedy. During the campaign, I had a “chance” meeting with Kennedy’s rival, Vice President Richard M. Nixon. Although my family lived in Orange County in California, the same county from which Nixon hailed, we did not think very favorably of him. But as he and I talked for a brief few moments that summer day in 1960, I began to view him a little differently. He seemed thoughtful and genuine. He knew I wasn’t old enough to vote, but he took the time to talk to me. I was impressed, but if I had been able to vote, I still would put in my ballot for Kennedy.

At the time of my little talk with Nixon, a few other events had taken place in my life which, in hindsight, I now recognize as being crucial to the shaping of my political thinking. The most important incident had occurred a few months prior to my meeting with the vice president: I had received Jesus Christ as my personal savior. I was now a Christian.

In November, 1962 I had finally reached the age of 21 and was old enough to vote for the first time. I registered as a Democrat and voted for George Brown for the office of governor. His opponent was the man I had met two years earlier, Richard M. Nixon.

It was at this time that a close friend, a seminary student at the time, told me he did not believe a person could be a Christian and be a member of the Democratic Party. Knowing he was a member of the Republican Party and respecting him as a wise person, I began to think that possibly his party was more in line with mainstream Christian thinking. I was also a student at a Christian college located on the same campus as the seminary my friend attended, and I knew of only two Democrats at the school: One was a history professor, and the other was me. “Maybe,” I thought, “it’s time to change.”

It was not until November 1963, five months after my wife and I were married, that I began to seriously consider a change. With the assassination of President Kennedy and the idea that Lyndon Johnson had become our leader, my party allegiance did begin to take a new direction.

Those who might recall the bitter campaign between Kennedy and Johnson may also remember that hard feelings remained even into November 1963. For a young person who had campaigned so diligently for the election of J.F.K., it was not easy to watch as Lyndon Johnson became president. It was at this time, then, that I registered as a Republican and voted for Barry Goldwater in the election of 1964.

A new awareness
The next step in my journey through the realm of politics began when I started thinking about the possibility of entering the political arena myself. I don’t believe I ever gave thought to high offices such as governor or president, but I did entertain ideas of entering offices in city council and the state legislature. With this in mind, I worked for the campaigns of candidates at the local, state, and federal level.

Then, one day at a backyard barbecue with my wife’s side of the family, her aunt asked one very poignant question. She wanted to know if I thought I could go into politics and remain honest. I won’t ever forget the look of surprise on her face when I did not give the answer she was expecting. After thinking about her question for a few seconds, I replied, “No.”

It was an honest answer. I explained to her that in no way was I a dishonest person. However, I reasoned that all people in office had to “bend” a little from time to time, even when it meant going against one’s own set of values.

I think I knew then that it was not meant for me to be a part of the political scene as an active politician, though I did continue to campaign for others and speak out concerning issues I believed I should either support or criticize.

At about the same time, the Lord gave me a new awareness of my personal responsibility concerning Jesus’ commandment to spread the Gospel and to take care of others. I began reading books by authors such as Ron Sider. I am certain that it was at this time that I began to realize that the world can’t be changed through politics. It can only be done by Jesus’ love working through His people.

I gradually became more and more troubled by the fact that various individuals and groups were becoming extremely vocal in their belief that Christians should align themselves with a certain political way of thinking. When Joanie handed me the newspaper that day, she knew what was troubling me the most was what seemed to be a growing phenomenon of the way in which a “new gospel” appeared to be working its way into Christian thinking. For lack of a better term, it might be called a gospel of “Christiopolitics.”

Christiopolitics
I have witnessed, as so many of us have, the enormous growth of a philosophy in which  Christians have apparently set aside Jesus’ Great Commission and replaced it with a “great commission” of politics. This second commission has tended to substitute spreading the Gospel with voicing opinions concerning political issues that are seemingly in line with what the Bible teaches. In other words, rather than talk about the Lord and what the Bible says about an issue, followers of Christiopolitics just talk about the issue. Often, these Christians are striving to use legislative procedures to accomplish what individual Christians should be doing in a personal, practical way on a daily basis.

An example of this might be the situation concerning whether or not it should be legal to pray and talk about God in public schools. Battles on the subject have been waged in courtrooms and break rooms alike for many years. Countless hours and a good deal of energy have been spent arguing over this issue, when those same resources might have been spent simply sharing God’s grace and the love of Jesus Christ on a personal level.

After flying from Texas to our home in California, I bought a copy of Ron Sider’s book, The Scandal of Evangelical Politics². If I had read only its first chapter, it would have been well worth the price. Almost immediately, Dr. Sider articulates the disturbing contemporary Christian thinking that the only way to have a genuine spiritual revival is to have legislative reform. He speaks of the way in which Christians have become involved in politics for cultural reasons, with no theological justification.

A few weeks after the trip to Texas, I was sitting in Sunday school listening to a tremendous lesson brought to us by our teacher on Psalm 27:1: “The Lord is my light and my salvation! Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?”

That Sunday, the question, “Whom shall I fear?” was an easy one to answer. “No one, of course. God is on our side!”

I left the class still thinking about the lesson. True, some are not fearful. They share their faith in God day in, day out. Others realize they are fearful, but continue to share their faith though it “scares them to death.”

I couldn’t help but reflect, however, that there are others of us who have no fear because we have actually exchanged the one Gospel for another that preaches “Christian” politics. When political beliefs and arguments are blended with Christian ethics, doesn’t it become a little more comfortable to take the point of view opposite to the general leaning? And if a certain political candidate or party represents what we as Christians believe, aren’t we able to work a bit of our beliefs into the discussion without a great amount of fear? But when it comes to bringing up a discussion about Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world, in that same situation, how comfortable is it then?

An uncompromising allegiance
It is definitely true that we as Christians should not take the role of the ostrich with its head in the sand when it comes to politics. We do need to be aware of what is taking place in government on all levels, and to be a moral, ethical, Christian influence where we can. However, the fact is that fear or simply an agenda to seek spiritual revival through legislative reform cannot overwhelm the fact that we, as followers of Christ and His teachings, are not a part of any governmental institution or party. We belong to the King of Kings. We have been charged to serve Him, and only Him.

He has said to us, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34). He didn’t say, “A new command I give unto you: that you make the world right through this or that political party and legislation.”

We need to get back to the foundation of what our faith is all about and what our purpose as Christians in this world truly is. We are to be faithful to God’s Holy Word, we are to reach others with the Gospel of Christ, and we are to serve one another according to the manner in which He has taught us. We must keep our sight on the fact that we are to preach the Gospel of Christ’s saving grace, not the “gospel” of politics.

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1. Gushee, David P. “A Plea to Evangelicals – from an Evangelical.” USA Today. January 14, 2008.
2. Baker Books. Grand Rapids, MI. 2008