We can’t avoid politics – Jesus didn’t

I believe it was the late great Archbishop Desmond Tutu who said: “When people say the Bible and politics don’t mix, it makes me wonder which Bible they are reading.” Well, it clearly wasn’t the Bible I habitually read. 

For a long time I have been reading the Bible as an account of the Israelites, a small, powerless people, negotiating their place among the rising and falling superpowers of their environment, and seeking, through the words of their prophets, how their God wants them to act in their vulnerable situation – as well as seeking the help and strength of their God within it. Were I a commissioning book editor (which in an alternative life I might have been), I would love to commission someone who has expertise in both biblical study and international politics, to write a book on the Bible and international relations. We – by which I mean nations both great and small – could learn a great deal from the Bible about both surviving and being generous in a world of power politics and power shifts.

A political story

The Bible is absolutely riddled with politics. Take the Christmas story, for example (well, it is December). A baby was born away from his home, because of the regional Roman governor’s decision to hold a census – presumably for tax purposes. He was born amid prophecies that he would be ‘king of the Jews’, and immediately on hearing this, the puppet king of his region, Herod, made plans to get rid of him. As a result, Jesus and his family were forced to flee as refugees to Egypt, until Herod died and it was safe to return. I can’t think of a more politically influenced start in life than that. 

We can’t live the values of God’s kingdom without engaging in some way with politics

As he grew, Jesus came into conflict with groups who had both religious and political power in his country: the Pharisees, who were the ‘religious power brokers’, and the Sadducees, who manipulated the relationship between religion and state. When it came to the secular ruler, Herod (not the same Herod as threatened Jesus in his toddlerhood, but his son – stay with me…), Jesus referred to him as “that fox” (Luke 13:32), hardly an apolitical statement. Multiple parables that Jesus told refer to negotiations between landlords and tenants, one of the hot political issues of his day. Jesus took this issue and, daringly, used it as a metaphor for our fractured relationship with God. And then there is of course his death. Crucifixion was a method of execution normally reserved for political prisoners or insurgents – in fact terrorists in our modern terminology. If Jesus had no political significance, could his opponents have persuaded the Romans to crucify him?

Yes, when on trial before Pilate Jesus said: “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). An equally valid translation would be “not from this world”; in other words, not that his kingdom does not affect this world, but that it does not originate from this world as other kingdoms do. Surely what Jesus was saying to Pilate was not so much “I am only concerned with spiritual matters” but something more like: “I am not seeking a political kingdom in the world’s terms.” It does not mean Jesus is apolitical; rather, his politics are those of the kingdom, which are not about power-broking and the use of force, but about neighbour-love and enemy-love.

Loving one another involves politics

Jesus told us to love God, our neighbours and our enemies. That immediately has political implications. If we love our neighbour, we want her to have her basic needs met: food, shelter, healthcare, education, a voice that can be heard in the corridors of power. Who or what provides all these things, makes sure they are available and fairly distributed? Politics and politicians, of course. As for our enemy, love for him demands that we reconcile with him and make peace. How do we do this? Politics again. Basically, we can’t live the values of God’s kingdom without engaging in some way with politics, at however small and local a level. We may disagree on how these rights are to be provided, but, in order to provide them, we cannot avoid politics.

The same applies, inevitably, to the human power-broking that goes on in churches – but I suspect that’s a whole other column. Simply put, all human interaction (including marriage!) involves power balances and negotiation, and that is politics. Better we should apply our faith to human politics than to leave the world of politics to its own devices with no faith input at all.