The Writer and the Christian

Wallis’s first official chapter is called “Revival Time,” and it repeats most of what was covered in the introduction, though in somewhat more detail. One of the things I have noticed about Wallis is that he brings up a topic like “social justice,” says that it is important and he’ll get into the details in a later portion of the book, and then when it comes up again he says the same thing he did before, nearly word for word. Apparently “talking about it” and “mentioning it again in the same way” are co-terminus for him.

He brings up Martin Luther King Jr. a lot (p.11-12, 20-21), painting him as a halo-toting saint, as opposed to the reality, which involved a bunch of plagiarism and bunches more ladies on the side. Sure, Augustine wasn’t the bastion of sexual purity, but at least he repented.

Wallis tries to hijack William Wilburforce into the ranks of King Jr., Ghandi, and Desmond Tutu, and I confess I don’t know much about Wilburforce aside from the fantastic film Amazing Grace (go see it now). To hear Wallis tell it, though, the only people who make a difference are progressives, and therefore if somebody in the past made a difference, clearly they’re gonna be progressive too, as if conservatives were simply sitting off to the side nursing a sherry and sniffling at all the poor people through hankies. I am fairly certain that Wilburforce would have been mortally offended by Wallis’s position on abortion and homosexuals. So much so he might go and, ya know, do something.

Then we really get to the meat of the chapter, which is still easing us into acknowledging that there are problems in the world, in case the news might stun us so much that we couldn’t go into work for a week, due to stress. He notes that “the Religious Right did it wrong,” because their religion became “too partisan, too narrow, and too ideological,” and then concludes that they “were used by politics,” (p. 12). And, you know, I actually agree with this assessment. The Christian Right got used, and they begat children that bled blood more Republican than Christian. Living in a small mid-western town really reinforces that one. Yet I still disagree with Wallis about his “solution” to the problem.

To Wallis, there are two things we must acknowledge: “the hunger for spirituality and the hunger for social justice.” (p. 12). Depending, of course, on what he means by social justice, we can agree here too. The other struggle is this: “Can faith enter public life in ways that are respectful of democracy, pluralism, and diversity?” (p. 13). It is here that we stub our toes over Wallis’s real god – Demos.

Which faith is Wallis talking about here? He never says. Only faith can save us . . . whatever that is. Christians would assume he’s talking about their faith, but Wallis never says this. A faith that takes pride in blowing up its enemies and cutting off the heads of those who refuse to convert? Wallis likes the Muslims (p. 16). Unrepentant Judaism? He likes the Jews (p. 15). How about people who mix and match religions? Wallis likes Ghandi (p. 24) and the “spiritual, not religious” silliness (p. 16). To even suggest that Wallis’s faith is the same faith which believes in the actual Jesus of the gospels is just laughable. He said that whoever does not gather with Him is scattering against Him.

No truly Christian approach to politics gives this much of their foundation away. If Wallis was playing baseball, he would get arrested for throwing the game in the first inning.

A true Christian approach to politics is truly Christian, and it involves the following propositions.

1. Christ is lord of all or He is not lord at all.

2. Either all power in heaven and earth has been given to Him (Matt. 28:18-20) or it has not.

3. All political governments must be explicitly Christian governments or they will be destroyed in the way (Psalm 2).

4. Nobody can be forced to convert to Christianity at the point of a gun.

We keep coming back to that agenda hovering just out of sight. “A common-good agenda, rooted in moral center, could unite diverse people on the really big issues.” (p. 28). But what are these really big issues? Wallis speaks of debt-cancellation, economic inequality, and global warming. But are these really the big issues? How about the biggest issue of them all? Israel’s God became King over the whole world through the death, resurrection, glorification, and ascension of Christ to the heavenly throne, where He sits from now until He has dealt with every rebellious heart, including the rebellious hearts of every despot in Africa and the only way to survive the judgment is faith in Christ alone. Will this issue, the biggest issue, unite diverse people?

Wall ends optimistically, kind of. He writes that the “mountains of greed, inequality, and indifference are to be moved” and they “will most likely be pushed aside by the mustard seed of faith,” (p. 29). You know, maybe. All our fingers are crossed for the best, but you never can tell.