Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 22, 2024
What My Faith Has Taught Me about Governance
from the sermon series:
"What Being Presbyterian Teaches Us about Good Governance"
Tom Are Jr.
Interim Pastor
Philippians 4:8–9
Romans 13:1–7
Bear with me today. Today is less a sermon and more of a class on Presbyterian polity. I know you are excited.
This passage is a problematic one. It appears to imply that all governmental authorities are in their place by divine right. Leaders might think that, but you know better. It also describes government in a flat-footed fashion, being a terror to evil conduct but a blessing to good. Life doesn’t sustain such a perspective. It doesn’t square with Paul’s life, who was jailed numerous times. It doesn’t align with Jesus’ experience, as he was put to death by agents of the state.
This is so problematic that some have said Paul couldn’t have written this (Brendan Byrne, S.J., Romans: Sacra Pagina, p. 385).
But I think the objections try to make this passage larger than it is. If I understand the text, Paul is not offering a full-blown theology of church and state. No, he is reminding the church — who understands that our ultimate citizenship resides in the reign of God — that we are also citizens in this world, and to live in this world means we have to find ways to live together.
We are not always good at living together. Again and again we witness the uniquely American problem of gun violence. Today is day 265 in 2024, and according to Gun Violence Archive we have had 398 mass shootings. (A mass shooting is defined as one where four or more are injured.) But it’s not just this, there is considerable political violence. It was almost a year ago when our attention to the war in Ukraine was diverted by the terrorist attack of October 7. Twelve hundred Israelis murdered. Since then, according to the Associated Press, more than 40,000 Palestinians have died, and more than 600 have been murdered in the West Bank. And now violence is increasing between Israel and Hezbollah.
Political violence is seemingly more commonplace in our nation, as well. There have been reports of violence at rallies, poll workers receiving death threats, and now a second assassination plot.
This is what chaos looks like. And if I understand the text, Paul proclaims that God does not desire for us to live in chaos. We must find ways to live together. I think the basic point of the text is that government is a good thing, for without it we live in chaos.
But that raises the question “What should good governance look like?” I’m a Presbyterian. If someone says that they are Presbyterian, that does not necessarily tell you their theology. There are about ten different Presbyterian denominations in the United States, and we have vastly differing theologies. But the one thing we all share is a sense of how decisions are made in community.
To be Presbyterian is to embrace some basic values regarding good governance.
Let me share some Presbyterian values for communal life.
The first is pretty basic. We believe government is a good thing. That sounds silly, but not everyone would agree. For some, government is the problem. Government is a threat to individual freedom. Of course, experience tells us that at times communal demands restrict personal freedom. But without some communal demands, we live in chaos.
Every community, no matter how large or small, must have some governance to avoid falling into chaos.
Carol came to me and she said, “The toilet in the guest bedroom won’t stop running.” I looked puzzled. She said, “I’m telling you because repairing the toilet is your department.” I said, “I have a department?” She asked, “When is the last time you cleaned a toilet?” Let’s just say it’s been a while. She said, “If you don’t clean them when they are dirty, then you fix them when they are broken. That’s your department.”
That’s what you call good governance. Without it, we have chaos. And I have a department.
I started thinking about these matters more intentionally after January 6. I don’t have to tell you the year, because like December 7 or 9/11, we all know what we are talking about. I gained a new awareness that America is not a given. This experiment in democracy is strong but not invincible and should not be treated casually.
The fragility of democracy is a fairly new thought for me, but it’s not a new thought. Political scientist Dennis Rasmussen writes that many of the Founders, by the end of their lives, had become anxious about the future of the American experiment.
Rasmussen states, “Washington became disillusioned … because of the rise of … partisanship, Hamilton because he felt that the federal government was not sufficiently vigorous, … Adams because he believed that the people lacked the civic virtue required for shared government, and Jefferson because of the sectional divisions laid bare over the reality of slavery” (Jeffery Rosen, The Pursuit of Happiness: How Classical Writers on Virtue Inspired the Lives of the Founders and Defined America, p. 215).
They too recognized that America is not a given, in part because it is far more difficult to build community than it is to tear it down. To build community requires character.
Toward that end, Presbyterian values do not seek chaos but order. And order that supports the building of community. Government is a good thing. At the same time, not all government is good, and no government is good all the time.
So Presbyterians hold to certain values that uphold good governance.
As Presbyterians, we believe that decisions are best made in groups. People make fun of us as the church held together by committees, because there are clearly more efficient ways to govern a community. Catholics, Episcopalians, and to a lesser degree Methodists are more efficient than us because they give much more power to individuals — bishops and even popes.
But Presbyterians are suspicious of any one person having too much power. That’s because we believe that everyone is sinful. Even the best person, even the most righteous person, will do bad things. Sometimes out of selfish intent, but even more so out of a blindness, a failing to see the needs of the neighbor, the value of the other. And when a person has power, the consequences of their sin are often borne by those with less power. But if decisions about the common good are not made by one person but by groups, then there is a check on the consequences of my limited view. When decisions are made in groups, then my view has to encounter other views, and when I either ignore or fail to see my sin, others might see it and hold it in check. As a result, the common good is better served.
Now, just because a group makes a decision doesn’t mean groups can’t make bad decisions. But we know that groups more consistently take a broader perspective than I might on my own. I need the wisdom of others.
But that’s not all. A second value of good governance is honesty. I want to talk about this more next week, but just to start, communities are not sustainable apart from truth. Dishonesty erodes the fabric of community. I’ll talk about that more next Sunday.
Our Presbyterian faith teaches us to be suspicious of individual power, to be relentless in the search for truth. Our church also teaches us the importance of our own voice. In 1788 the church adopted in our Book of Order this principle: God alone is Lord of the conscience. That means that you and you alone stand before God. The Session can’t tell you what to think. The preacher can’t tell you what to think. There is no intermediary between you and God. You have the responsibility to discern what you think is faithful. This is one reason you will often hear me say “If I understand the text.” I am saying to you, “This is how I see it, but I may have it wrong. So what do you see?” God alone is Lord of your conscience. That is both a freedom and a responsibility.
The responsibility is that the community needs you to speak the truth you know. You should participate for the common good. That is a civic responsibility we all share. It is a value that upholds democracy.
There was another principle adopted in 1788, and that is Presbyterians respect majority rule. To say it more plainly, I have a responsibility to speak the truth that I know, but I have an equal responsibility to listen to the views of others, to be curious about others.
I may be in the minority. I don’t have to agree with the majority, but in a spirit of good governance, I will submit to majority rule. I may strenuously object to the wisdom presented by the majority, and I can work to change the wisdom of the majority, but I won’t overthrow it.
These are some values Presbyterians have traditionally held for good governance.
Government is a gift to place restrictions on chaos.
Decisions made by groups are more likely to serve the common good.
Communities require honesty and truth.
God is Lord of the conscience.
And a respect for majority rule.
It is common to speak of any government in cynical terms. And it is apparent that government often works simply as an expression of power, just to maintain power, and does so devoid of values. When this is the case, government fails the common good.
In Jeffery Rosen’s book The Pursuit of Happiness, he writes that the Founders understood that phrase from the Declaration of Independence “the inalienable right to the pursuit of happiness” not as a right to pleasure. Rather, influenced by classical philosophers, our Founders understood the pursuit of happiness to be about virtue. Happiness was not tied to feeling good but being good (Jeffery Rosen, The Pursuit of Happiness, p. 6). And this mattered, because the Founders believed that personal virtue was related to communal virtue. In other words, government without values is not simply poor government; it is tyranny.
As a lifelong Presbyterian, this church, this stumbling and fragile and even sinful communion of saints, has been my primary teacher regarding the values that shape communal life.
To pursue politics of power devoid of values is a threat to the nation that we love.
A few years ago I read about Julia Jackson. She is the mother of Jacob Blake, who one summer night was shot in the back by a police officer in Kenosha, Wisconsin. You remember. Mr. Blake survived but was mostly confined to a wheelchair.
The next night Kenosha was in flames.
Two days after the shooting and just hours before Kyle Rittenhouse, who had traveled from Illinois, would shoot two protesters with his AR-15, Julia Jackson drove through the streets of Kenosha to stand before news cameras.
She said her son would be very displeased by the violence in his city. She continued “God has placed each and every one of us in this country because he wanted us to be here. Clearly you can see that I have beautiful brown skin. But take a look at your hand, and whatever shade it is, it is beautiful as well. How dare we hate what we are? We are human.” She continued, “We are the United States. Have we been united? Do you understand what’s going to happen when we fall. … Let’s use our hearts, our love, and our intelligence to work together to show the rest of the world how humans are supposed to treat each other.” She concluded, “America is great when we behave greatly” (George Packer, Last Best Hope, p. 57).
I think she spoke with tremendous grace and wisdom.
When groups — be they Sessions empowered by the vote of the congregation or government officials empowered by the vote of the people — when groups gather to make decisions, if they do so only to maintain power, only to increase power, only to exercise power, the common good always suffers. But when those entrusted with power choose to serve with character, the common good can be served.
At least that is what my Presbyterian faith has taught me.
Sermon © Fourth Presbyterian Church