The Myth of a Christian Nation

by Gregory A. Boyd

  The danger of kingdom people taking the slogan “one nation under God” too seriously is that we set ourselves up for idolatrous compromise. We may judge that God wants all people to be politically free. We may believe that to this extent God approves of America. But we have no grounds for thinking that America is for this reason a nation that is more “under God” than any other nation. As in all nations, God is working in America to further law and order as much as possible, and, as with all nations, America is under the strong corrupting influence of demonic powers. So while we may agree that the “one nation under God” slogan serves a useful civil function, as kingdom people we must never take it too seriously. The only people who can be meaningfully said to be “under God” in a kingdom-of-God way are those who are in fact manifesting the reign of God by mimicking Jesus’ love expressed on Calvary (Eph. 5:1–2).

  THE THEOCRATIC PROGRAM IS OVER

  The second fundamental problem with viewing America as a theocracy is that God’s theocratic program in the Old Testament was temporary, conditional—and ultimately abandoned. God formed Israel to be a distinct, set-apart, holy people in order to use them to reach the whole world. Through the descendants of Abraham, all the families of the world were to be blessed (Gen. 12:2–3). The Israelites were to be God’s ministers, his priests to the world. God took great pains (and inflicted great pains) to get this people into “the Promised Land” because it was strategic in accomplishing this global mission.

  This nationalistic program, however, never worked well, and Israel eventually demanded an earthly king like other nations. Many of their leaders didn’t listen to God and drove the country into ruin. Even more tragically, Israel forgot that its unique calling was not an end in itself. They were supposed to be set apart from the world so that they could effectively serve the world. But like so much of the church today, they became prideful of their unique holiness and judgmental of the people they were called to serve.

  God, therefore, abandoned this nationalistic means of transforming the world. While God is by no means through with Israel, he is no longer using them or any other nation to grow his kingdom on the earth.6 The kingdom is now growing through Jesus Christ who lives in and through his corporate body. In this sense, Jesus and the church constitute a new Israel.7

  Unlike the nation of Israel, this new Israel, this new “royal priesthood” (1 Peter 2:9) is not to be conditioned by any nationalistic, ethnic, or ideological allegiances. To the contrary, it is to be comprised of people from every tribe, every tongue, and every nation (Rev. 5:9; 7:9; 21:24–26). Through his death and resurrection, Jesus utterly abolished all the typical kingdom-of-the-world categories that divide people: nation, race, gender, social and economic status, and so on. And inasmuch as the church is called to manifest everything Jesus died for, manifesting this divisionless “new humanity” (Eph. 2:14) lies at the heart of the kingdom commission.

  In light of this, we must conclude that any suggestion that God has returned to his Old Testament theocratic mode of operation—as in raising up America as a uniquely favored nation—is not only unwarranted, it is a direct assault on the distinct holiness of Jesus Christ and the kingdom he died to establish. While one may or may not contend that America wields the sword more justly than most other versions of the kingdom of the world, under no circumstances is a kingdom-of-God participant justified in claiming that it is a nation that is more “under God” than any other nation in the world.

  The holiness of the kingdom of God must be preserved. If Jesus refused to acknowledge and fight for Israel as God’s favored nation—even though it was the one nation in history that actually held this status at one time—how much more must his followers refuse to acknowledge and fight for America as God’s favored nation? To say it another way, if Jesus was committed solely to establishing a kingdom that had no intrinsic nationalistic or ethnic allegiances—not even with Israel—how much more should his followers be committed to expanding this unique, nonnationalistic kingdom?

  OVERRELIANCE ON GOVERNMENT

  We’ve discussed the two fundamental conceptual problems with “one nation under God.” We turn now to two negative consequences this slogan has for the church.

  First, people who believe America is in fact a “nation under God” may be inclined to view government as the handmaiden of God and thus inclined to rely on it to carry out the work God has called the church to carry out. More specifically, as with most other Americans, many Christians assume it’s the church’s job to take care of people’s spiritual needs and the government’s job to take care of people’s physical needs. We preach the gospel while government is supposed to care for the poor, the homeless, the oppressed, the disabled, or the sick. Many would, in fact, deny they believe this, but based on how the church acts—which is always a far better indication of true belief than profession—the point is undeniable. The evangelical church as a whole is not known for its willingness to assume responsibility for these areas (though there are wonderful exceptions). And this, I submit, is largely due to the fact that we trust government to carry out these duties.

  Now, it is certainly good for governments to take care of people’s physical needs as much as it is able to (by taxing citizens, rightly prioritizing the budget, and so forth). But it’s not a good thing for Christians to rely on government to carry out this function and thus limit themselves to ministering to people’s spiritual needs. As William Booth (founder of the Salvation Army) saw so clearly a century and a half ago, it’s the church’s job to minister to people, not just their spiritual needs. Indeed, there’s no biblical warrant for separating a person’s physical needs from their spiritual ones. When a person is without food, without shelter, and without hope, this is a physical and spiritual issue. Hence, rather than relying on government, the church is to take responsibility to do all it can to care for people in every possible way.

  What would happen if, instead of waiting on Uncle Sam to solve social issues, the church took responsibility? What would happen if kingdom people honored Jesus’ command not to own anything (Luke 14:33) and followed the kingdom principle of giving to those in need and taking in those who are without a home (Luke 6:30–31, 35–36; 10:29–37; Rom. 12:13; Eph. 4:28)? What would happen if wealthy suburban congregations took it upon themselves to build affordable housing for the poor? What if we actually took seriously Jesus’ teaching that we are to treat everyone in need as though they were Jesus himself (Matt. 25:34–46)?

  Such kingdom work would obviously require tremendous sacrifice on our part. Many of us would have to readjust our lifestyles to fund such ministries. Perhaps this in part explains why we so often overlook it and rather choose to spend our time tweaking the civil religion and concerning ourselves merely with the “spiritual” needs of people. But precisely because it requires us to bleed, this sort of sacrificial activity is a distinctly kingdom one. It is the essence of what we are called to do.

  While it is good for government to be compassionate, of course, kingdom people need to remember that the hope of the world doesn’t lie in government; it lies in Jesus Christ and in the willingness of his people to mimic his example (Eph. 5:1–2). We are not to rely on government to do what God has called us to do: namely, serve people by sacrificing our own time, energy, and resources. Only insofar as we do this are we the authentic body of Christ manifesting the holy kingdom of God.

  If the church understood itself to be a tribe of kingdom soldiers stationed in enemy-occupied territory, whose sole mission was to advance the cause of their King by imitating what he did for them on the cross, we would rely on the government much less and take responsibility to serve the needs of people much more. Unfortunately, the “one nation under God” mindset has contributed to the loss of this spiritual warfare mindset, and thus the shirking of much of the American church’s responsibility in service to our nation and to the world.

  AN UNWARRANTED MODEL OF EVANGELISM

  Closely related to this is a second negative consequence
of taking “one nation under God” too seriously. As noted above, this nationalistic slogan influences many Christians to turn to the Old Testament more than the New in their understanding of America and of the role of the church within America. Consequently, Christians often turn to the models of Old Testament “watchmen” (as in Ezek. 33) and of John the Baptist to understand what they are supposed to be doing in the culture, rather than to the model of Jesus. Instead of living to sacrifice for others, we become the official “sin-pointer-outers.” Instead of gaining a reputation of being humble servants who manifest Calvary-quality love, we gain a reputation for being moralistic and self-righteous. And predictably, we drive away the tax collectors and prostitutes of our day, just as the Pharisees did, rather than attracting them, as Jesus did.

  The error of this thinking is obvious once we understand that God’s nationalistic agenda ended with Christ. Though it never truly functioned in this manner, Israel was intended to be a theocracy. The Israelites understood themselves to be in a covenant relationship with God, and they also understood that the job of watchmen and prophets such as John the Baptist was to hold the people and their leaders accountable to this covenant. As a matter of principle, prophets and watchmen didn’t hold non-Jews accountable to God’s unique covenant with Israel; their role was only to hold Jews accountable, for the covenant that formed the basis of this accountability was made only with the Jews.

  This is why John the Baptist pointed out the sin of Herod—a Jewish governor—but not the sin of Pilate or any other Gentile leader (Matt. 14:3–4). That’s why Nathan exposed the sin of David (2 Sam. 12:1–12), but not the sins of any pagan kings, even though their sins were, by Israeli covenantal standards, often worse. And that’s also why Jesus, assuming the role of a prophet, exposed the hypocrisy of the Jewish religious leaders, but never concerned himself with Gentile religious or political leaders.

  While there is a comparable role for prophets and watchmen within intimate Christian communities, these roles have no application to Christians within American society as a whole. God’s nationalistic program came to an end with the death and resurrection of Jesus, and in any case, his covenant with Israel was not a covenant with America or any other nation. What’s more, the self-understanding of most people in America today is worlds removed from the self-understanding of Jews under the Old Covenant. When Christians model themselves after Old Covenant prophets and watchmen, they end up trying to hold people accountable to things these people know little about and care even less about. It is at best ineffective, and at worst it is positively harmful to the advancement of the kingdom of God.

  To illustrate, one of the most clear expressions of the Old Testament model of evangelism today is found in an increasingly popular form of witnessing sometimes called “confrontational evangelism.”8 In this model people are taught that it is the job of Christians to get others to realize they have broken one or more of the Ten Commandments and that they, therefore, deserve God’s eternal wrath. The goal is to get people to see their need for a Savior.

  The trouble with this approach, of course, is that despite the veneer of civil religion, most people in America aren’t worried about whether they break one of the Ten Commandments now and then, and they certainly don’t see the logic behind the claim that infractions of this sort warrant everlasting damnation. Just because the evangelist thinks this doesn’t mean the person they’re confronting thinks this, and the lack of shared presuppositions makes the encounter odd at best. The situation is no different from, say, a Muslim telling a non-Muslim stranger who happens to be eating pork that he deserves to go to hell because the Koran forbids eating pork. Why should the non-Muslim care what the Koran says?

  The people that Old Testament prophets and watchmen held accountable were those who could be expected to accept the terms of accountability. As Jews, they knew they were supposed to obey the revealed law and knew that the job of prophets and watchmen was to help them do this. But this is precisely what is missing in America—and precisely what the “one nation under God” mindset causes some to overlook. When Christians confront people on the basis of presuppositions not shared by the people they confront, they come across as rude (hence unloving, 1 Cor. 13:4–5) and usually render the gospel less credible to the people they confront.9 What is not generally communicated to the people being evangelized is the one thing we are called to communicate: namely, sacrificial, Calvary-quality love modeled after Jesus.

  PAUL’S MODEL OF NON-JEWISH EVANGELISM

  It’s significant to note that while Paul preached from the Jewish Scriptures when evangelizing Jews (as in Acts 17:2), he did not appeal to the Old Testament when evangelizing Gentiles. Rather than making his case on what he, as a Jew, believed, he made his case on the basis of what his Gentile audience believed.

  The clearest example of this approach is found in Acts 17. While discussing Christ “in the marketplace,” Paul encountered some Stoic and Epicurean philosophers who took him to the Areopagus to share his views with fellow philosophers (v. 19). Paul began his speech not by “confronting their sin,” but by commending them for being “extremely religious.” Remarkably, he based his commendation on the fact that these folks had so many idolatrous objects of worship (vv. 22–23)! Now, had these philosophers been Jewish, Paul’s approach may have been quite different, for Jews of this time were expected to know and honor the Old Testament’s prohibition on idols. But these were Gentiles, so holding them accountable for things they didn’t themselves believe would have been unwise, arrogant, and rude. Though their idols deeply offended Paul as a Jew (v. 16), he complimented them for their sincerity. This was a loving approach to take, for love believes the best, looks for the best, and hopes for the best in everyone (1 Cor. 13:7).

  Paul then noted that one of their “objects of…worship” contained an inscription, “To an unknown god.” This acknowledged ignorance on the part of the philosophers provided Paul with an opening to present the gospel. “What…you worship as unknown,” Paul said, “this I proclaim to you” (v. 23). This too was a Christlike, loving approach. Rather than shooting at what one believes is wrong in another’s life or way of thinking, love looks for the best, looks for truth, and then builds on it. A loving approach to evangelism finds an area of expressed need, uncertainty, or longing and then seeks to meet it as Christ would.

  What is amazing, however, is that when Paul presents the gospel to these people, he doesn’t do so on the basis of Scripture as he did earlier with Jews (vv. 1–2). Rather, he quotes pagan philosophers (v. 28), for these are the sources that have credibility to these folks, not Scripture. Paul builds his case on truths he finds in what the Epicureans and Stoics already believe. He presents Christ as the fulfillment of their own beliefs and the goal of the innate longing God has placed in all people at all times (vv. 26–27). While some “scoffed” at his claims, others were intrigued enough to want to consider it further (v. 32).

  When evangelizing people who do not share one’s own presuppositions, this is the loving and wise approach to take. Unfortunately, Christians who take the “one nation under God” mindset too seriously are lulled into thinking that Americans generally share kingdom presuppositions. Being duped by the quasi-Christian civil religion, they treat average American citizens almost as if they were Christians who simply weren’t living up to their calling. They thus think they’re doing people a favor by holding them accountable to things that are, in fact, foreign to them. As we’ve said, the result is that they come across as odd, arrogant, and rude, rather than loving.

  Instead of respecting the integrity of people’s beliefs, building on what is true about them, we simply point out what we think is wrong. Rather than looking for the best, believing the best, and hoping for the best, we zero in on what we believe is the worst. Rather than serving people by taking the time to understand their worldview from the inside and looking for an opening within this worldview, we assume they think like us and speak to them from within our own worldview. Cons
equently, we unwittingly undermine the credibility of the gospel and do not communicate the central thing we are called to communicate—Calvary-quality love.

  Our approach will be more like Paul’s if we can wake up and see the radical disparity between the civil religion of America—expressed in the “one nation under God” slogan—and the authentic kingdom of God. People who are merely shaped by the civil religion of America are no closer to the kingdom of God than people shaped by the civil religion of Buddhism, Islam, or Hinduism. It’s nothing more than the civil religious veneer of the culture. When we understand this, we see that our job is to serve our fellow Americans by building bridges that connect us with them and entering into their unique worldview, just as we would if we were in, say, Indonesia, Tanzania, Bangladesh, or any other “non-Christian” country—and just as Paul did with his Gentile audience.

  CHAPTER 9

  CHRISTIANS AND VIOLENCE:

  CONFRONTING TOUGH QUESTIONS

  Jesus said to him, “Put your sword back into its place; for all who take the sword will perish by the sword.”

  MATTHEW 26:52

  THROUGHOUT THIS BOOK I’VE ATTEMPTED TO HELP KINGDOM PEOPLE wake up to the radical difference between the kingdom of the sword and the kingdom of the cross as a means of motivating us to live out the unique call of God’s kingdom more authentically and more consistently. To accomplish this, I’ve admittedly painted with broad, contrasting strokes. If we resolve that the kingdom always looks like Jesus, and if we therefore commit to living in love as Christ loves us on a moment-by-moment basis, it will usually be clear what a kingdom individual or community should do in a particular situation—usually, but not always. For in the ambiguous war zone in which we live, the lines between exercising “power over” and “power under” are sometimes fuzzy, giving rise to an assortment of ethical questions. Not only this, but it is not always clear how our absolute allegiance to the “power under” kingdom affects our participation in the “power over” kingdom.