Political Jesus

As we stumble towards the end of 2016, politics is perhaps the last facet of our livelihoods we wish to ponder. Nearly six hundred days of bitter divisions, rhetoric and scandals have fractured and exhausted us as a people. All our pent-up apprehensions boiled over on Tuesday night, when Trump vaulted over the predictions of polls and pundits to seize the rust belt on his trip to 270. Even now that this trial and shock has passed, I know that many people on both sides of the aisle are reeling—uncertain and anxious about the future of our country.

One of the reasons why 2015-2016 has been so bleak is that many of us trusted the American political process and believed that the American people would make the “right” decisions in the primary and general elections. But neither the process nor the people kept the two most detested candidates in recent American history from rising to win their respective party nominations. Many viewed a Trump victory as extremely improbable in part because the pundits generally portrayed him at a severe disadvantage, yet also because in their minds it was morally unthinkable that he would win. In 2008, President Obama ran on a platform of hope and change and promised a bright, more unified American future. In 2016, America’s situation is anything but Obama’s vision realized. Either you perceive that the eight-year Obama presidency was bad for America, or you reckon that the Trump presidency which is the closing note of Obama’s legacy will be bad for America. You might even think both.

To some degree, America has failed itself as a country. I would argue that even a perfect president wouldn’t be able to fix all our failings. But in the midst of America’s political fatigue and shortfalls, the person and teachings of Jesus are refreshing because he transcends the socio-political arena, speaking directly to our flaws as individuals and as a culture. When Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey or instructed his disciples to cast their nets on the right side of the boat to catch fish, he wasn’t signaling which party agenda would be the key to us thriving at a personal and social level—because neither party is able to solve problems this big and this deep.

When many people consider Jesus, they regard him as a moralizing figure—usually by citing short passages from the Beatitudes or the Golden Rule. Others extrapolate from their conception of Jesus and insist, “Jesus wouldn’t do 'fill-in-the-blank,'” or “Jesus would be in favor of this government policy” or everybody’s favorite, “Judge not lest ye be judged.” These caricatures coalesce into the popular conception that Jesus’s contribution to the world is a relativist humanitarianism. This is the idea that the old strict moral codes don’t apply anymore, and that what really matters is acting in a way that does not negatively affect other people, particularly their feelings.

But Jesus debunks this impression of himself in two ways. In one of the four traditional gospel accounts (ancient biographies), which are historically the best records of Jesus’s life, He declares, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” Rather than relax rigid moral codes, Jesus proceeds to affirm them and actually increases their demands of us. For Jesus doesn’t define wrongdoing only as that which hurts other people, but as that which offends God by falling short of His standards. In the Beatitudes for example, Jesus teaches that it is not enough to simply avoid committing the actions of murder and adultery, for even hatred and carnal lust are respectively murder and adultery in our hearts. Jesus does not uphold the need to maintain ceremonial cleanliness from the statutes in Leviticus, but focuses acutely on the evil in our own thoughts and feelings as the true depravity in human beings.

A careful examination of these texts also refutes the view that Jesus’s teachings simply provide a moral improvement plan. The moral code Jesus affirms may be sound, but it is an overwhelming weight for us to bear, especially since the bar is so high that it is unattainable. This is why Jesus offers Himself as both the sacrifice for our wrongs (through his death and resurrection) and the fulfillment of these requirements, thus enabling us to be made right with God and spend eternal life with Him, through no virtue of our own. For Jesus professes, “I did not come to judge the world, but to save the world.” He says, “I told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am he, you will indeed die in your sins.” And he declares, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father (God) except through me.” Jesus’s truth claim is exclusive, and indeed many reject it. Yet Tim Keller, a theologian, qualifies, “It’s the most inclusive exclusive truth in the world.”

This has everything to do with politics when we examine what our hope and trust is in. The progressive worldview tends to place its hope in the future and it trusts people to be properly educated and government power and policies to fix cosmic injustice and solve our greatest and deepest problems. When the future is bleak and either people or government fail, this is cause for despair. As I walked through Sanford and around campus on Tuesday night, I heard sobbing and felt the clouds of disillusionment everywhere. Indeed, what if Trump won’t “Make America Great Again” and voters elect bad candidates in the future and government is ineffective at best and destructive at worst? If our faith is in government, then this forecast truly would be grounds for hopelessness.

But Jesus takes all of the miserableness of the world, injustice and failings by people and government as a given. He grabs both your shoulders, looks you in the eyes and says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." He promises (recorded in Revelation), “Behold, I am making all things new.” This is a promise of cosmic renewal and abundant life that extends to all things and all people who accept him. It is redemption not just for the downtrodden and the outcasts, but even the oppressors. It is hope for both the prostitute and the crooked tax collector, and everyone in between. It is a commitment to the transformation of our hearts and minds, to shape us after him.