Eternal God, American Politics: Insights from Luke

In the United States, we have the privilege of living under a government elected by and accountable to its citizens. We also have a history of robust civic engagement in the political process. The last several years have witnessed a degree of polarization not seen for decades in American political life. This polarization has prompted many Christians to think through (or rethink) what Christian involvement looks like in our nation’s politics. Should Christians look to the governments of this world to advance the Kingdom of God? Should Christians rise in united political opposition to the powers that be? Should Christians simply withdraw from public life? Is it “Christian” to be patriotic? to hold political office?

We have something better than the fallible reflections of our brothers and sisters in Christ. We have the Bible. From its inception, the New Testament church inhabited a world ruled by Rome. The apostolic church, therefore, had to think about these questions. The inspired writers of the New Testament have left us both the teaching and the example of the apostles to show us how the church navigated the fraught political world that the Caesars oversaw. In particular, Luke—the author both of the Gospel bearing his name and of the Acts of the Apostles—shines a spotlight on the way the apostles’ ministries intersected the lives of dozens of political officials.

To be sure, the ancient Roman Empire and modern Western democracies are profoundly different from one another. But the principles of political engagement enshrined in Luke’s writings cut through those differences and chart the path for the twenty-first century church. We find three guiding principles that help the church to orient its posture towards and to inform its interactions with state power.

The first principle is that God is sovereign over all things. There is nothing, Luke reminds us, that falls outside the eternal and unchangeable purpose and plan of Almighty God. This point is vividly brought home at a time soon after the church has had its first experience with state-sponsored persecution. The apostles Peter and John, having been arrested, jailed, and interrogated by the Jewish authorities for preaching the gospel, were released. The apostles returned to the church in Jerusalem and reported what had happened. The church then offered up a prayer to God:

Sovereign Lord, who made the heaven and the earth and the sea and everything in them, who through the mouth of our father David, your servant, said by the Holy Spirit, who through the mouth of our father David, your servant, said by the Holy Spirit, “Why did the Gentiles rage, and the peoples plot in vain? The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers were gathered together, against the Lord and against his Anointed” – for truly in this city there were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel, to do whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place. And now, Lord, look upon their threats and grant to your servants to continue to speak your word with all boldness, while you stretch out your hand to heal, and signs and wonders are performed through the name of your holy servant Jesus (Acts 4:24b­–30).

The church here acknowledges the universal and unchallenged sovereignty of the God they worship and serve. He is the Creator of all things, and he is “sovereign” over the works of his hands. Looking back to the arrest, trial, and execution of Jesus Christ at the hands of both Jewish and Gentile authorities, the church confesses that these rulers have done only “whatever your hand and your plan had predestined to take place” (compare Acts 2:23). In fact, God had prophesied their coordinated efforts over a millennium earlier in the words of the Second Psalm. Importantly, the church acknowledges that God remains on his throne, even as the same struggle that played out against Christ now plays out against Christ’s disciples. The church commits their cause to the Lord God and prays that it would be faithful to him in the face of such opposition.

This prayer gives voice to a reality that runs across Luke–Acts, namely, that political rulers and officials are instruments in the hand of God to accomplish his sovereign purpose. It is Luke who tells us that the empire-wide census ordered by Augustus was the means by which God brought to pass the prophesied birth of Christ of Bethlehem (Luke 2:1–7). The cowardly machinations of the Roman prefect, Pontius Pilate, was the way in which God brought to pass the prophesied death of Christ in Jerusalem (Luke 23:1–25). The ministry of the apostle Paul, as he is divinely informed, must conclude with a visit to Nero Caesar in Rome (Acts 19:21, 23:11, 27:24). God employs a variety of means to accomplish this purpose. These means include interventions from a Roman tribune, Claudius Lysias, in Jerusalem (Acts 22:22–29, 23:12–22), the obstructive and self-serving behavior of two Roman governors, Felix and Festus (Acts 24–26), the willingness of Festus to send Paul to Caesar in Rome (Acts 25:12), and the protection and deliverance of a Roman centurion named Julius (Acts 27:3, 43; cf. Acts 28:16). These state officials are instruments in God’s sovereign hands to bring his sovereign purpose to pass.

The second principle concerns the nature and the mission of the Kingdom of God to which every Christian belongs. In both Luke and Acts, we read of Christ establishing and building his kingdom. In Luke, Christ does this in the company of his apostles on earth. In Acts, Christ does this from heaven through his apostles on earth. Like a mustard seed and like leaven, the Kingdom grows surely, imperceptibly, and mightily until it becomes coextensive with the globe (Luke 13:20–21, 29). The way in which the Kingdom grows is through the sowing of the seed of the Word of God (Luke 8:4-15) and by the power of the Spirit of God (Luke 11:20). It is as men and women respond to the gospel of Christ in repentance and faith that they enter and participate in the Kingdom of God. Jesus makes clear that the establishment of God’s Kingdom means the demolition of Satan’s kingdom (Luke 11:21–22). Sinners are brought out of the one and into the other. The Kingdom of God will flourish under the hand of God, but not apart from Satanic resistance.

It is in the ministry of the apostles that we see the Kingdom of God expanding globally. Acts documents the progression of the Kingdom from Jerusalem to Judea and Samaria to the end of the earth (Acts 1:8). The Kingdom expands as the apostles preach Christ, and people turn from their sin and receive Christ as he is offered to them in the gospel. After the resurrection and ascension of Christ, the Kingdom assumes an institutional form, the visible church. It is within the context of the church that believers pursue the call to be Christ’s disciples in the broader world, working for Kingdom purposes even while in the world.

If the Kingdom of God stands in direct opposition to Satan’s kingdom, then how does it stand in relation to the earthly kingdoms of this world? Luke shows us that the Kingdom of God poses no threat to this world’s kingdoms. We see this in a couple of ways. First, the Kingdom of God has its own heavenly agenda, set by its King, Jesus Christ. That agenda is not a this-worldly agenda and does not compete with the agendas that God has set for this world’s kingdoms. This spiritual agenda is set at the beginning of Acts, when Christ tells his apostles immediately before his ascension into heaven, “you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth” (Acts 1:8, emphasis mine). The Kingdom’s mission is to bear witness to Christ in the world. It is precisely this mission to which we see the church in Acts devoting itself. The gathered church does not devote itself to specifically political questions or make pronouncements upon matters of public policy, though its members certainly may choose to do so in their own individual vocations, both as citizens and as employees. The church in its organized capacity restricts itself to declaring what Christ has revealed in the Scripture—no more and no less.

Second, the Kingdom of God advances by the power of the Holy Spirit. Jesus prefaces the heavenly agenda that he delivers to the church with a promise, “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you” (Acts 1:8). The purpose of this grant of the Spirit’s power, as the events of the day of Pentecost make clear, is to convert sinners through the gospel of Christ, bringing them into the Kingdom of God (see Acts 2:37–47). Luke gives us periodic reminders of this reality throughout Acts (see Acts 5:31, 11:18, 13:48, 16:14, 18:10). Put negatively, the church is not to employ or to solicit coercion to compel people to enter the Kingdom—physical violence or confinement, military force, social pressure, political legislation, financial incentives or threats are categorically forbidden. If the Kingdom has its own agenda, it no less has its own weapons. It does the work of God only with the means that God has supplied it—the Spirit and the Word.

There is, furthermore, a striking dimension to the church’s existence in this world. The church, like the church’s Head, undergoes suffering in this world. Even before the gospel has spread beyond Jerusalem, we witness the church experiencing public ridicule (Acts 2:13), arrest and imprisonment (Acts 4:3, 5:17), judicial interrogation (Acts 4:6,7; 5:27–28), and a quasi-judicial murder at the hands of a mob (Acts 6:8–7:60). These events prove not to be anomalous but to be the pattern for the church’s existence throughout this age. As Paul tells the young disciples in Lystra, “through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). The church does not look for suffering, but suffering invariably finds the church. The church in Acts suffers not because of any failure in carrying out its mission, but precisely because of its faithfulness in carrying out its mission. Suffering comes from all quarters, including the highest reaches of political power. But, although the church will endure suffering at the hands of its enemies, it will never inflict suffering upon anyone. As God used a suffering Messiah to accomplish in the world his people’s redemption, so he will use a suffering church to proclaim to the world the Messiah’s redemption.

Thus, the church has its own mission (bearing witness to Christ), its own means for carrying out that mission (the Spirit and the Word of God), and its own mode of existence (suffering for Christ). What happens when the servants of Christ encounter public servants in the course of their respective labors? What do those interactions teach us about the way in which the church operates within the public square? The answers to these questions make up our third principle—the Kingdom servants’ interactions with the state must reflect Kingdom principles and commitments.

The figure more than any other who dominates Luke’s attention in this respect is the apostle Paul. As Paul travels from town to town across the eastern Mediterranean basin, he routinely has encounters with Roman officials. In Acts 16–20 (documenting the second and third of three missionary journeys that Paul undertakes in Acts), we find a recurring pattern. Paul’s preaching occasions vehement accusations that bring him before officers of the state. In each instance, Paul is either vindicated or at least not found guilty of the charges or accusations brought against him. In Ephesus, in fact, his accusers are publicly admonished and censured (Acts 19:35–41).

Space prevents a thorough study of these chapters, but we will register three observations. First, there is an irony that runs through—and beyond—these chapters. Paul is never the cause of civil unrest. It is his opponents who instigate mob riots or public disturbances in order to silence Paul. But it is Paul’s opponents who accuse Paul of “disturbing our city” (Acts 16:21), or of “turn[ing] the world upside down” (Acts 17:6). Paul may be accused of sedition, but in no instance is Paul guilty of sedition. It is his accusers who are, in fact, conducting themselves seditiously. The gospel, Luke shows us, is in no way subversive of public order.

Second, Paul’s interactions with civic officials are illuminating. In no city does any official find Paul to be guilty of a crime. Paul is accused—whether explicitly or implicitly—of what were serious matters to the Romans—atheism (Acts 19:26–27, 16:20) and treason (Acts 17:7). The charges may fly, but none will judicially stick, Luke is telling us. This remains true even when magistrates—such as the “city authorities” in Thessalonica (17:6, 8) or the proconsul Gallio in Corinth (Acts 18:12–17)—show themselves to be less than admirable in the discharge of their official duties.

Not all of Paul’s interactions with the civil magistrate were adversarial. Luke tells us that some of the “Asiarchs” in Ephesus “were friends of [Paul’s]” (Acts 19:31). Apparently in the course of Paul’s three-year ministry in Ephesus, he had befriended men in public office. Although we would love to have been given more details here than Luke has afforded, the point is plain—Paul was capable of befriending and earning the trust of presumably pagan municipal officials in the cities in which he ministered.

Third, Paul insisted, on occasion, upon his rights as a Roman citizen. At this point in Roman history, citizenship was a comparatively rare commodity that afforded people certain legal rights and privileges that non-citizens did not enjoy. Paul was born a Roman citizen (Acts 22:28) and made use of his citizenship on at least two occasions. In Philippi, it was the legal basis of his protest to local officials for their beating him although he was “uncondemned” (Acts 16:37). The protest was successful—the officials issued Paul a public apology (Acts 16:39). Later, before the governor Festus, Paul insisted upon his right as a citizen to have his case heard directly by Emperor Nero (Acts 25:11). It would be Paul’s invocation of this privilege of his that would be the occasion of his being brought to Rome.

These three observations allow us to draw two conclusions about Christians’ activity within the public square. The first conclusion is that, when one becomes a Christian, one does not cease to have civic responsibilities. As a Christian, Paul took great pains to render to the civic authorities the obedience that was their due. He never viewed his Christianity as a pretext for living selfishly and lawlessly.

Paul articulates the Christian’s obligations to the civil magistrate in his epistle to the (Romans 13:1–7), authored during the third of his missionary journeys recorded in Acts. The Christian obeys a political ruler as that ruler is a servant of God (Rom. 13:4), and as a matter of individual conscience before God (Rom. 13:5). That obligation also serves to delimit the Christian’s obedience. As Peter told the Jewish leadership in Jerusalem when they had ordered him to cease preaching Christ in that city, “we must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). The Christian may never obey a command of the magistrate when that command requires him to disobey God. Neither may the magistrate lawfully prevent us from rendering the obedience that God requires of us.

A life lived in keeping with these principles enabled Paul to testify, towards the end of his recorded ministry in Acts, “I always take pains to have a clear conscience toward both God and man” (Acts 24:16; compare 25:8). To be sure, Paul was willing to submit to the magistrate to be punished for any capital crime that he may have committed (Acts 25:11). But, Paul insisted, he was free from any such liability. Paul was a willing disciple of Jesus Christ, and his obligation to obey Christ extended to his interactions with persons in public office. Paramount for Paul as he moved within the public square was maintaining the integrity of his Christian character and testimony.

The second conclusion is that, when one becomes a Christian, one does not forfeit his civic rights and privileges. Paul was born a Roman citizen and remained a Roman citizen after his conversion. He was willing to insist upon his rights as a citizen when the civil magistrate attempted to violate those rights. It is not difficult to see why Paul did so. In each instance, maintaining his rights served to promote the cause of the gospel. In Philippi, the effect of Paul’s action was surely to encourage the local magistrates to be more circumspect in their conduct towards the young church there. In elevating his case from governor Festus to emperor Nero, Paul was knowingly witnessing the fulfillment of Christ’s promise that Paul would bear gospel witness to Caesar. Paul, then, viewed his citizenship as a trust to be used in the service of Christ and his church.

What does Luke have to say to Christians, and particularly American Christians, today? First, Luke avoids some of the extreme options that have been attractive to Christians in course of the church’s history. On the one hand, Luke does not counsel Christians to withdraw from the public square. The apostolic church did not withdraw from but remained within their communities, including the political life of these communities. When required to do so, they defended themselves against false charges of sedition and disruption through careful, reasoned defenses based on Roman law. In all circumstances, they presented themselves to their fellow image-bearers as model citizens, committed to the common good.

On the other hand, Luke does not counsel Christians to adopt a posture of political antagonism to the state or to its officials. To be sure, Paul was prepared to make a vigorous legal defense of himself when circumstances necessitated. But Paul was no provocateur. He did not antagonize those in authority, goading them into conflict and confrontation. His disposition, rather, was altogether amicable—he pursued and found friendship with local magistrates. Even when he was required to challenge the decisions of a public official, he did so in a principled and respectful fashion.

What enabled the apostolic church to steer clear of these two extremes of withdrawal and of antagonism was its paramount commitment to the Kingdom of God. Christians see themselves as servants of King Jesus called to bear witness to him in the world. That calling mandates regular and charitable engagement with their neighbors (not withdrawal). But because Christians are committed to a mission, means, and mode of being in this world that come from Christ rather than from any temporal political party or leader, spiritual engagement (and, yes, spiritual confrontation) rather than political antagonism will govern their engagements with their neighbors. As Paul said to the august assembly gathered around Festus and Agrippa, “I would to God that not only you but also all who hear me this day might become such as I am—except for these chains” (Acts 26:29). With Paul, we want the men and women around us—including those in political office—to join us as willing and decided disciples of Jesus Christ. That Paul, writing from his Roman prison cell (see Acts 28:30–31), could not only speak of the gospel’s advance among “the whole imperial guard,” but also mention “saints” in “Caesar’s household” (Phil 1:13, 4:22) suggests that this strategy of the apostolic church had been met with the Lord’s blessing.

None of this means that Christians should decline either to hold public office or to engage matters of public policy in political settings. Far from it. Although God forbids the church in its organized capacity from addressing or handling matters of public policy, God richly gifts individual Christians to serve profitably in these endeavors.[1] While a Christian called to public service does not share Paul’s ministerial calling to preach Christ, he does share Paul’s commitment to exhibit the character of Christ in his principles, speech, attitudes, and behavior.

Second, Luke’s testimony to the governments of this world helps us to avoid another pair of extremes that surface on our contemporary political spectrum. Although Luke is clear-eyed about the faults and failings of the Roman empire (and its many officials), he is not “anti-government.” He does not view government as an inherently evil institution or an intractable problem or obstacle that human beings must somehow overcome or transcend. Civil government, rather, is a divine ordinance that, like the family and the church, is good in itself and that God has designed for the well-being of all people. Governments, Luke insists, operate within the providence of God, who has sovereignly purposed all things to come to pass according to his eternal and unchangeable will. Even Augustus himself—the most powerful man in the Roman Empire—is but an instrument in God’s hands. At decisive moments, Luke shows us, the interventions of Roman officials preserve the life and liberty of Paul, thereby enabling him to continue his apostolic ministry. The governments of this world are not designed as instruments of advancing the Kingdom of God. They constitute the providential framework, however, within which the church carries out its mission of proclaiming the Kingdom of God. In that sense, the church is everywhere supportive of good, lawful, stable, and well-functioning civil government.

For that reason, American Christians should, like Paul, embrace with gratitude their calling and identity as citizens. Paul took responsible advantage of the (comparatively limited) range of privileges and responsibilities available to him in God’s providence as a Roman citizen. Surely Paul was grateful to God to be a citizen of the Roman Empire! How much more should modern Christians embrace the much wider range of privileges and responsibilities that is ours as American citizens? How much more should we be grateful to God to be citizens, and to express that gratitude through a proper love and appreciation for our nation and its government (faults and failings notwithstanding)? That our deepest loyalty and love is to Christ and to his kingdom does not preclude holding lesser loyalties and loves, including to our country. Those who are concerned about excesses of patriotism on the part of Christians should remember that patriotism is itself a virtue. The protections, rights, and privileges that I enjoy as a citizen of my country should provoke gratitude to God and, secondarily, appreciation for my country.

The day will come, Scripture tells us, when earthly kingdoms will be no more, and all that will remain is “the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ” (Revelation 11:15). Until that day, earthly kingdoms are an abiding and good staple of God’s providential ordering of human affairs. Christians—and the Christian church—cannot but interact with the governments of this world. Thankfully, we have in Scripture a rich deposit of principle and example to give us clear direction in these interactions. And, as we reflect on our failings and shortcomings in this department, we may be grateful for a faithful Savior, who renews us in repentance and faith and calls us over and again to point our fellow human beings not to ourselves nor to earthly kings but to “another king, Jesus” (Acts 17:7).

[1] Space prevents even a sketch of the contours of the Christian public servant’s calling. We may simply note here that, because the state is an ordinance of creation, public servants should voice their principles and frame their arguments by appeal to natural law and the course of providential events rather than by explicit appeal to the text of Scripture.