REMANATIONS

For previous posts in this series, see here, here, here, here, and here.

I hope that those of you who are reading these posts are storing up some questions. When I’m done, I’d love to hear them. For now, I’d like to address another aspect of the natural law appeal: the appeal to “science.”

In the contemporary world, appeals to science are a tricky thing, for two reasons. First, most people, educated as they are in government schools, have a deep, almost sub-conscious faith in scientific truth. Appeals to science (unlike the Bible) still carry weight. But, secondly, science, properly understood, is a subordinate authority. It never exists independently of the people practicing it, and they are shot through with all manner of biases, presuppositions, and ideologies.

Now, of course, not all biases are bad. I’m biased in favor of the gospel, liberty, and dark beer. So also, biases are unavoidable and inescapable. Even if we were able to achieve the “God’s-eye view” of things, we would discover that biases still exists. After all, God loves righteousness and hates wickedness. So the fact of bias is not the problem; but the nature of the bias may be. Read the rest of this entry »

For previous posts in this series, see here, here, here and here.

Anderson now turns to a discussion of how arguments from natural law might actually work. As I noted in the last post, I have no problem with appeals to natural law in themselves. Appeals to nature and science are perfectly at home in my repertoire, as long as they stay in their proper place. But, natural law, when divorced from the natural Law-giver, has a funny way of becoming just another dressed-up idol. But before we get there, I want to point out the divorce Anderson is proposing. He writes:

[R]ather than claim that a debased practice offends God, politicians can—and, I would add, should—explain to the public what aspect of some immoral behavior is contrary to our own good, especially the common good—and why a just and decent society shouldn’t accept it.

Rather than argue that abortion is contrary to God’s law and that we need to bring the Constitution into conformity with God’s law, social conservatives should argue that as a matter of scientific fact the child in a mother’s womb is a whole, living human being, and that as a matter of moral truth the direct killing of any peaceable human being is gravely unjust.

In themselves, the arguments presented here are fine, and Christians should never shrink from making them. My trouble is with the “rather thans” in these passages. The triune God reveals himself in nature and in Scripture, in his Word and in his works. Why separate what God has joined together?

What’s more, Anderson assumes that a “just” society is desirable. But “just” according to whose standards? The definition of righteousness is an overtly and irreducibly religious question. So now we’re back to discussing (in a frightfully sectarian way) those pesky religious authorities. The same holds true for Anderson’s assertion that the killing of any peaceable human being is unjust “as a matter of moral truth.” What’s to stop some sharp sophomore in the back row from simply saying, “Says who?”

Now, I have no doubt that Anderson would be able to deftly handle such objections from cocky secularists by discussing with them the nature of justice and morality. But now we’re back to fundamental questions of ultimate authority, and any Christ-confessing Christian has to put Christ in that place, which is what Anderson is arguing we shouldn’t do, at least when the unbelievers are listening in.

Anderson next urges us to “press the argument that if human beings really are equal in dignity, then abortion is inconsistent with our fundamental commitments.” Again, no problem with the argument itself, but it assumes that we are in harmony about these fundamental commitments. And, looking at the state of the Union today, I’m not convinced that that is true.

Everyone will pay lip-service to such fundamental commitments, and then go right ahead and violate them. There are 162 Catholics in the 111th Congress (that’s about 30% of the whole). Many of them are openly pro-choice, in violation of the clear teachings of the Roman Church. The same is true of many Protestant politicians. So-called “fundamental commitments” can’t slow the Obama-nation Train down, probably because, for many, they are not all that “fundamental.”

For people like Anderson (and myself), inconsistency is a bad thing. But for many in this shape-shifting generation, inconsistency is just the old modernist word for “authentic” and “relevant.” “Who are you to say that something is inconsistent? You’re not the boss of me.” For many in this country, their fundamental commitment is to their own personal happiness and fulfillment, and no one is going to get in the way of that.

Finally (for now), Anderson makes some arguments for maintaining the traditional structure of marriage:

If marriage isn’t the union of one man and one woman coming together as husband and wife to become father and mother to any children their marital love may bring, then social conservatives should demand that their opponents explain what marriage is.

Here’s the difficulty with this: if we demand that our opponents give an answer, they might actually tell us what they think (!).

Is it simply the union of any consenting pair of sexually active adults? If so, then why only two? And why does it have to be exclusive and permanent—why not open or temporary “marriage”? Indeed, if marriage isn’t about a bodily union, then why limit it to sexual relationships at all? How about codependent relatives? How are marriage and children connected? Do children need mothers and fathers, or not?

Anderson asks these questions, assuming that most people will give the “obvious” answer.

“Of course, it can only be between two people. And of course marriages are exclusive and permanent. Except for, you know, the 50% or so that aren’t.”

But what if people started giving the other answer. “Yeah, why not have open or temporary marriage? Why not more than two people? That sounds like a great idea!” On the marriage question, though social conservatives have been able to hold the line for the moment, the culture is trending in the other direction. Opponents of traditional marriage know this, and they are more than happy to huff and puff until the house finally collapses.

In one sense, this battle may already be (temporarily) lost, not because the homosexual lobby was convinced everyone, but because heterosexual marriage has become so degraded by the rampant divorce culture (among other things). Many people (rightly) recognize the oddity and hypocrisy of defending the sanctity of traditional marriage while millions of professing Christians avail themselves of no-fault divorce.

“Marriage is so holy that I had to try it three times!”

The solution (in my view) is not to adopt a holding pattern, seeking to plant our So-Con flag here and hold this hill at all costs. We need to move the ball forward. We need to start charging the gates of hell again. But we can only do that when we have firmly in our minds and our hearts–and fundamentally in our churches–the only conviction that can throw down those hellish gates, Jericho-style: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God” (Matthew 16:16).

For previous posts in this series, see here, here and here.

Having noted the folly of Huck’s appeal to religious authority to accomplish political ends, Anderson now turns to his positive case for “the political road not taken.” It is essentially an appeal to the “natural law” tradition in theology and ethics, a tradition that has a long and storied history, particularly in Roman Catholic teaching, but also in some branches of Protestantism. I have no objection to the use of natural law per se, but my own opinion is that natural law should only be used in its proper place, namely subordinated to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Natural Law implies a Law-giver, and his name is Jesus.

Before proceeding to the heart of the engagement, I need to make one key point. I recognize that some of what I wrote in the last post (and which I will continue to expound here) can be taken as a form of Christian triumphalism. And while I do want to make clear that Christ is objectively triumphant (Matthew 28:18-20; Philippians 2:9-11), I want to avoid all premature chest-bumping, back-slapping, and end-zone dancing. There will come a time for celebration, and if the book of Revelation is to be believed, it will be glorious.

In the meantime, we are stuck on our own 25-yard line, having just been sacked for a 15-yard loss by the big nose tackle from Multi-Culti U. The road to the end zone is narrow and hard, and few make it all the way. And many that do make it suffer all kinds of perplexities, persecutions, and striking downs along the way (2 Corinthians 4:7-11), so much so that some get pulled from the game early and have to ice their busted knee in the locker room. Which is to say, that the triumph of Christ will look radically different than what we might expect. We are called to live crucified lives in this world, filled with suffering and brokenhearted affections, by the power of the risen Christ. We celebrate the present reign and rule of the Son of God, and sometimes get our head chopped off for it.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Anderson notes that “social conservatism has resources for public argument besides the Bible” and that “our obligations to treat fellow citizens as equals–as well as the practical requirements for broad political consensus–demand that we rise above sectarian appeals to religious authority.” This one’s thick and will take some detangling.

First, we do have resources besides the Bible. The heavens declare the glory of God (Psalm 19:1), his invisible attributes are perceived (clearly, even) in what has been made (Romans 1:20), and rebellious human beings know good and well that their current wickedness is deserving of death (Romans 1:32). In a sense, all of created reality, because it is belongs to Christ, can be marshaled against human sin and folly. “All things are yours, whether Paul or Apollos or Cephas or the world or life or death or the present or the future–all are yours, and you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s” (1 Corinthians 3:21-23).

But the fact that we have a plethora of resources available doesn’t mean that we should abandon the one offensive weapon in the holy arsenal, the sword of the Spirit. Yes, if need be, Christians can head-butt people with their helmet, but God has given us a perfectly effective weapon to use as we fight this fight. The word of God is, after all, living and active. So rather than choosing between the Bible and natural law, I say, let’s use them both. Generously. Sword thrusts and head butts it is. Hopefully, Mr. Anderson agrees.

The second part of my engagement with the above section has to do with these so-called “practical requirements for broad political consensus.” I think I know what Anderson has in mind, namely, the electoral realities that Christ-confessing Christians are not a sufficient governing coalition in this country. As such, it is necessary to build consensus with non-Christian groups.

In principle, I have no problem with such endeavors. Daniel was able to get things done just fine in Babylon, working with the Zoroastrian magi of the day. But if our efforts to forge political coalitions require us to eat any defiled food from the king’s table by muting our testimony to the gospel, then I think we should put down our cards and walk away. A political coalition made up of Christ-haunted secularists and neutered Christians is not a recipe for long-term success by anybody’s measure.

Finally, we have this bit about “rising above sectarian appeals to religious authority.” This kind of language raises a host of questions in my mind:

What constitutes a “religious authority?” Do religious authorities have to have a holy book? a god? Is Al Gore a religious authority? What about Reason with a capital “R”? If one religious authority created the other “non-religious” authorities ex nihilo, does his religiosity contaminate the alleged “non-religious” authority?

What is a “sectarian appeal”? An appeal to the Bible? What about the Constitution? The Declaration of Independence, with that “endowed by their Creator” bit? Who decides which appeals are sectarian and which aren’t? Who elected that person and why didn’t I get to vote?

Is saying “We shouldn’t murder innocent human beings because Jesus said so” a sectarian appeal? Does the truth of the sectarian appeal matter?

What about sectarian appeals to irreligious authorities? And if these authorities aren’t religious, then why in the world are they binding on me?

Okay, enough smart-alecky questions. My point, and I do have one, is simply that all appeals to authority are, at root, religious. They are rooted in our ultimate commitments and assumptions. And because we live on this side of the 2nd Coming, we are a sectarian bunch through and through, the whole lot of us. Such a claim is significant, and will require some proof, and by the end of this series I hope to have at least made a valiant attempt. So let me close by beginning that attempt. Anderson finishes that paragraph with the following:

If social conservatism is to win the day, social conservatives–especially those seeking and holding public office–must make public arguments using public reasons to defend human life and marriage.

This gets right down to the crux of the issue I have with Anderson’s approach, as much as I respect it and him (and I really do). The operative word in this sentence is “public.” So here is my simple argument: Jesus Christ was publicly crucified on a hill outside of Jerusalem, was publicly raised from the dead three days later, appeared publicly to his disciples for the next forty days, and publicly ascended to heaven where he now reigns over the entire cosmos. Therefore, all men are obligated to obey him publicly (and privately too for that matter). Reasons can’t get more “public” than that.

Francis Schaeffer was fond of reminding us that the gospel is “public truth.” It can never be reduced simply to me and Jesus in the prayer closet (as crucial as that is to maintaining any kind of public witness to Christ’s kingdom). Which means that for Christians there is no rising above sectarian appeals to religious authority. If we do attempt this sort of “rising above,” we will discover very quickly that we can’t help but bump our heads on the footstool of King Jesus.