John C. Danforth - My Kinda Republican

In this morning’s New York Times, I was inspired by former Republican Senator John Danforth’s Op-Ed, ”Onward, Moderate Christian Soldiers.” For those of you who don’t know Sen. Danforth, he is a former Senator from Missouri, served as Ambassador to the UN under President George W. Bush, and is ordained as an Episcopal priest.

This is actually his second editorial in the past few months on these themes. The first piece was a call for his party to return to its foundational principles, rather than pursue a narrow, right-wing, religiously driven agenda. In this second piece, he addresses moderate Christians, urging them to add their voices to the national discourse on faith and politics.

Danforth says many things that I’ve been trying to say or hoping to say, but he says them more eloquently than I think I could have. And as a lifelong member of a party that has treated its moderate members pretty brutally, he offers words that are both brave and necessary.

People of faith have the right, and perhaps the obligation, to bring their values to bear in politics. Many conservative Christians approach politics with a certainty that they know God’s truth, and that they can advance the kingdom of God through governmental action. So they have developed a political agenda that they believe advances God’s kingdom, one that includes efforts to “put God back” into the public square and to pass a constitutional amendment intended to protect marriage from the perceived threat of homosexuality.

Moderate Christians are less certain about when and how our beliefs can be translated into statutory form, not because of a lack of faith in God but because of a healthy acknowledgement of the limitations of human beings. (Emphasis mine.)

A healthy acknowledgement of the limitations of human beings. I like that.

It’s a cliché to say that power corrupts. As a Christian, I see it a little differently. People have been corrupted even before they assume power. Power, be it political or economic, only magnifies our ability to hurt others. Our desire to hold on to the power that we have and increase that power when possible will often tempt us to identify our will with God’s. With that in mind, it is vital that Christians approach the thrones of earthly power with great humility.

In The Gospel According to America, David Dark looks at the humility that pervades Abraham Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address. As he considers how two groups of people on opposite sides of a bloody war could claim the blessing of the same God, Lincoln uses phrases like “The Almighty has His own purposes” and “with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right.” Dark writes:

In Lincoln, we have an elected official who calls on his public to doubt itself; to stay the course, certainly, but to maintain the modesty that won’t presume to take the will of the people (any people) for the will of God.

Of course our political ideals will be shaped by our values — religious and otherwise. But we would do well to remember Lincoln’s humility as we figure out how to be Christians and Americans at the same time.

Danforth’s just getting started....

But for us, the only absolute standard of behavior is the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves. Repeatedly in the Gospels, we find that the Love Commandment takes precedence when it conflicts with laws. We struggle to follow that commandment as we face the realities of everyday living, and we do not agree that our responsibility to live as Christians can be codified by legislators.

[...]

For us, living the Love Commandment may be at odds with efforts to encapsulate Christianity in a political agenda. We strongly support the separation of church and state, both because that principle is essential to holding together a diverse country, and because the policies of the state always fall short of the demands of faith. Aware that even our most passionate ventures into politics are efforts to carry the treasure of religion in the earthen vessel of government, we proceed in a spirit of humility lacking in our conservative colleagues. (Emphasis mine.)

This is good stuff. We should not only approach the thrones of power with humility because we know our hearts and how easily it would be for us to misuse that power, but also because government may not be the best venue for us to pursue religious goals. What Danforth states so succinctly and eloquently is really an entire discussion unto itself, so I’ll leave that as food for thought for a future post.

In the decade since I left the Senate, American politics has been characterized by two phenomena: the increased activism of the Christian right, especially in the Republican Party, and the collapse of bipartisan collegiality. I do not think it is a stretch to suggest a relationship between the two. To assert that I am on God’s side and you are not, that I know God’s will and you do not, and that I will use the power of government to advance my understanding of God’s kingdom is certain to produce hostility.

By contrast, moderate Christians see ourselves, literally, as moderators. Far from claiming to possess God’s truth, we claim only to be imperfect seekers of the truth. We reject the notion that religion should present a series of wedge issues useful at election time for energizing a political base. We believe it is God’s work to practice humility, to wear tolerance on our sleeves, to reach out to those with whom we disagree, and to overcome the meanness we see in today’s politics.

Here again we find echoes of Lincoln. It’s not quite “With malice toward none, with charity for all,” but it’s still stirring.

Our political discussion today is rancorous. But it doesn’t have to be this way. The lifeblood of our democracy is civility and compromise, not the pursuit of an extreme agenda with religious fervor and dogmatic certainty. It’s not the demagoguery and hatred you hear and read from both sides of the aisle.

For all my praise, the truth is that Sen. Danforth and I might very well disagree on many things. Yet in the title of this post, I claimed that he was “my kinda Republican.” What did I mean by that? I meant that, despite our potential disagreements, Danforth seems like someone I could talk to, someone who might listen to me, someone with whom I could seek middle ground, and someone who — after a vigorous discussion — I could still easily love as a fellow American and as a brother in Christ.

Sadly, I don’t feel that I could say the same about many of the national leaders of Danforth’s party today.

Any last thoughts, Senator?

Christians who hold these convictions ought to add their clear voice of moderation to the debate on religion in politics.

Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.

Note: This post was originally just a quick link to the editorial, since I read it just before going to bed. The longer post was substituted around 9:30pm on the same day.

1 Ripple from “John C. Danforth - My Kinda Republican”

Cortland Richmond says:

June 14, 2009 at 9:44 am

I have been reading “Faith and Politics.” Senator Danforth writes about the Love Commandment. That resonates in any tradition, and Jewish tradition says that the world is maintained because there are thirty-six unknown righteous ones living in it…

No Room at All

How could I love her
And not love our kind?
How could I think
To put them out of mind;
The SOB’s
Who cheated me last week at the market place,
The stinking rapper shouting in my face,
The righteous sinners, temples air conditioned year around,
Who proudly pray on holy ground?
How could I love and call my feeling true?
How could I love her, friend,
And not love you?

I’ll have to show my passport at the border post;
They’ll ask the same things that they ask of most,
How things are ‘cross the line,
What folks are doing now to pass the time,
And would I go back if I had the chance?
It doesn’t take a warning glance;
They want to know if now’s the day
To press the button, make it go away.
Just how much hatred must they hear to make that so?
I vote for love, I do not want to know.
The Bible got it wrong, I’m told.
The story edited before it had got old:
Sodom was not a nice place to live,
But Abraham bet God to give
Them another chance if he could find
Ten refugees with something kind to say
About the bastards who chased them all away.
The Dead Sea is the lowest place on Earth.
For what that’s worth.

Now I don’t know
If thirty six is going to do the job.
If I was one, I wasn’t worth it, that’s for sure,
But no one said a lammed vavnik has to be all that pure;
He might just have to love the human race,
Not flinch from looking all its faults right in the face,
And if I loved her should I not as well
Love people only love could keep from Hell?
It seems to me of late,
That leaves no room at all for hate.

® Cortland Richmond 2005

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