Amidst all our discussions of what bankers deserve by way of remuneration for their work, what Members of Parliament can legitimately receive by way of expenses, what journalists can and can’t do to get a story, and what should and shouldn’t be of concern to the public in the lives of public figures, there seems to be a desire for a new public morality. For example Archbishop Rowan has said that we must rescue ‘the concept of civic virtue, and thus the idea of public life as a possible vocation for the morally serious person.’
I have recently been given an interesting article which asks the question, ‘What is the point of public morality?’ (Derek Edyvane, Political Studies Vol. 60) We might think the answer to that question is easy; it’s to improve the common good and make the world a better place. If you give that answer it implies that you think that there are areas for improvement in the way we live and you are hopeful that we can make a positive difference. On the other hand you might answer that the purpose of a public morality is to defend what we have now, our rights and freedoms because they are put constantly under threat by our human capacity to make a negative difference. To put it more succinctly, ‘some suppose that public morality should promote the good society, while others suppose that it should facilitate the prevention of catastrophe.’ Is this just a cup half full/half empty debate? Optimists are always looking to improve things, to take us to the promised land, to build the kingdom of heaven on earth. Pessimists look rather to be on their guard against sin, the world and the devil.
I have expressed the dichotomy in those terms because I am more interested in seeing how this debate is relevant to the church rather than to political theory. Where would we place ourselves in this divide and how might that place affect our attitude towards politics and the questions we might want to ask our politicians?
The first five books of the Old Testament provide a set of laws promulgated perhaps over a long period of Israel’s social and political experience. The purpose of the law is to show how Israel is to live together in a way which is loyally responsive to the God who chose them to be his people and rescued them from slavery and gave them a land to dwell in. Israel’s identity as a nation is established by a unique narrative of salvation, a unique way of living together as a society, and a unique pattern of worship. That pattern is to be repeated year in year out to keep the narrative alive and hold before the people the means of acknowledging their failure to live according to their law. The core narrative is one of rescue but as the history of the nation develops so the narrative comes to include stories of initial glory followed by repeated examples of failure. So the prophets themselves become part of the story, repeating the call to repentance and reminding the people that they are to act justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with their God. The narrative becomes one of punishment and restoration but the latter seems to become more and more infrequent.
With the repeated invasions of Israel it becomes more and more difficult to remain optimistic. Israel’s aspirations begin to be focused on an idealised image – an anointed one who will come and save them. What such a Messiah will do is rather unclear; will he restore an earthly kingdom and rid Israel of her enemies, or will he do more? Will he put an end to the cycle of rise and fall and bring in a permanent kingdom which will be acknowledged by all the nations as a model to which they also aspire and wish to relate? Such a hope is hard to sustain. In the meantime the leaders of the nation both cling to the past, with the Sadducees maintaining the Temple and its worship and an uneasy truce with the Romans while the Pharisees seek to encourage the people in a more perfect keeping of the law in their daily lives.
Into this situation Jesus is born. He inherits this language and this dilemma. He inherits an impatience with the way things are, but a hopelessness about how things can be changed within existing circumstances. It is not even clear what they can hope for in the near future and so their hopes are projected onto a more distant future. They have little to which they can aspire and yet little power to defend what they still value; they are even uncertain about what they should value. Jesus also lives in a time of fear for personal safety and economic uncertainty and resentment – several of his stories are about the divide between rich and poor, and the difficulties caused by absentee landlords. Added to this is a fear of their loss of their Jewishness their personal and national identity. Many of the debates Jesus has with the Pharisees are about what it means to be a Jew.
How does Jesus respond to this situation? In aspirational terms he points to the formation of communities of service, hospitality, and self sacrifice; and to worship within those communities focussed not on the Temple but on a commemorative meal which will invoke his spiritual presence. In defensive terms he points to the dangers of wealth, neglect of the poor, responsive violence and lack of mercy. Again in aspirational terms he points to a kingdom where God’s will, will be done, but which God himself will bring in. We may hope for it, pray for it, prepare for it but we cannot bring it about for ourselves..
How then should this affect our attitude towards politics and politicians? How does it affect our understanding as Christians of a public morality? We inherit a strong prophetic tradition which holds the state and society up to searching criticism. But the point which the prophets make over and over again is that we know what we should do, we have the law and the teaching to guide us, what we have to learn is how to apply it. The prophet himself doesn’t tell the politicians how to apply the law; he calls them again and again to look at the standards by which they should judge their efforts. He warns them again and again of the dangers of ignoring the poor, the vulnerable, the oppressed and anonymous members of society. Politicians should fear the absence of justice and generosity.
Jesus works within the same tradition but he is perhaps also sensitive to the dangers of utopianism; he focuses on the individual and the social grouping rather than the state. And Paul follows in his footsteps. Pauline communities are exhorted to lead a particular kind of moral life, but there is little sense that the state as such can live such a life. State leaders are to be prayed for, even obeyed where faith is not compromised in so doing, but Paul does not envisage the state becoming Christian.
We are familiar with the way in which the Constantinian revolution changed all this in the fourth century. The state became Christian at least in name and gradually the concept of Christendom and then the Christian nation came into play. But to the extent that we no longer live in a Christian nation we have to go back to the gospel to see how its teaching might guide us now. Can Christianity contribute to the design of a secular public morality of civic virtue or does the gospel point more to a combination of prophetic commentary and communal activism? And if so where does that leave the Christian politician working in state government?
We might conclude that he or she should at least have strong roots in a local Christian community; that he or she should be keenly sensitive to what is at risk in our society, and a humble and honest sense that often he or she has to carry out the least worst option, taking only short steps to a long term goal. And what part does hope play in this? Barack Obama was elected on a wave of hope which rapidly subsided and yet he can still be heard as a politician who inspires hope. The rhetoric of hope is a complex thing – the Scriptures talk of hope for things unseen – whereas politicians can all too often set up very visible expectations which lead to almost inevitable disappointment. Perhaps that is the greatest contribution a Christian politician could make – inculcating through his or her faith, humility and honesty a hopefulness which is infectious but non specific – a hope for things unseen.
The Vicar Writes
Stephen Tucker