Archaeology of Liberalism, Nihilism, and Christian Politics
August 24, 2012 at 3:56pm

Brother,



I'm very grateful for your email. I was expecting you to write, and if you didn't, I was going to write, since my statements yesterday should be clarified.



First, the last two times we talked, you said something very interesting. You said that Judaism and Christianity spelled the demise of sacral kingship in the ancient world. I agree with this wholeheartedly, but I would go even further.



At least since Wheaton, I've seen Genesis 1 as perhaps the earliest and most important "secularization" text. What I mean is this: in Genesis 1, there are no gods in the skies, the waters, the land, the animals. No, they're just skies, waters, land, animals - and they're good, God's good creation. That's it. That's enough. For an ancient Near Eastern reader/listener, this would have had to have been a shocking creation account: just one God, transcendent, differentiated but not detached from his creation. Bottom line: the creation is not "sacred" or "enchanted" or "divine" - it's simply God's living, dynamic, complex, throbbing, (humanly) thinking creation.



Second, here I think a CRUCIAL distinction must be made: Genesis 1 and Judeo-Christianity catalyze "secularization" (i.e., the recognition of the finite temporality of the world) but they do NOT represent a form of "secularISM" (i.e., the worship of the immanent or a kind of "exclusive humanism" [Taylor]). In this respect, I think Judeo-Christianity was the mother of genuinely public space - a place not crowded with gods, monsters, ghosts, and absolute rulers, all of which would make "public space" and "politics" meaningless. Think about it: why engage in "politics" if you think everything is determined by hidden forces that would be better charmed by sacrifices and sacred representatives? In such a worldview, talk truly is cheap - of course, unless "talk" is being used to cast a spell or incantation, which precisely attempt to overcome or go around the other rather than engaging the other. But that's the antithesis of political talk. What's so radical about politics is that it re-realizes the human other; in politics, you have to deal with the human other, not a god or sacred figure that's beyond or over or other than another finite temporal ("secular") being like us. In my opinion, Christianity (perhaps with Aristotle as a precedent) signals the birth of genuine politics (understood as public speech and action about goodness), and it achieved this by "secularizing" public space. Again: the world, creation, the public thing is God's good creation; it's not sacred, divine, charmed, etc. It's good, and that's good enough: it doesn't need to be god.



Third - and this is very paradoxical to me - I think Christianity after many centuries may inevitably lead to nihilism. That is, the logic of Christianity clears and empties worldly space, such that there's simply nothing left other than God's creation. But if a culture preserves the heroic and/or transcendental drive of the Greeks or the sacral drive of the ancient Near East or the mystic-gnostic drive that flourished during the Romans, "God's creation" WILL NOT BE ENOUGH. It will FEEL like nihilism, like nothingness, like emptiness. Why? Because we ourselves have not made it and thus we ourselves cannot fully control it. Moreover, Christianity (despite Hellenic perversions) does not lead to a revived vision of heroism or theosis; it's perfectly content with the fruit of the Spirit - things like (non-Stoic!) gentleness that would have been meaningless to much of the ancient world. That is, Christianity has no aim of making us more than human, and there's nothing we desire more than to be MORE than human - be it as gods or demons. We CRAVE transcendence, overcoming, power. Christianity won't give it to us; it's got nothing here; it says No. But it's No is a more radical Yes: a Yes to the goodness of God's finite creation and finite human existence.



I want my point to be crystal clear: if a society or civilization does not think "God's good creation" is good enough, it will experience the "emptying" - "secularizing" - effect of Christianity as nihilism. This is what's so interesting to me about Nietzsche: even Nietzsche, who was haunted by nihilism and sought to defeat it, still felt the irresistible drive to try to achieve something more, something higher, something better: the overman. That is, Nietzsche failed at his own game of loving and affirming finite human existence. It just didn't feel heroic, glorious, great enough for Nietzsche (a true [pre-philosophic] Greek). Even Nietzsche couldn't kick the addiction to transcendence: he wanted the "uber," and thus (in my interpretation) Nietzsche himself fell prey to a kind of ressentiment, decadence, nihilism.



This is wild and crucial: a Christian and a pagan can inhabit TWO TOTALLY DIFFERENT UNIVERSES at the very same time in the very SAME universe. The pagan sees the universe as empty, as void, as godforsaken, as disenchanted, as meaningless, as dead and nihilistic - as nothing. The Christian sees that same universe as alive, good, meaningful, valuable, lovable, some thing that matters - God's free creation. Thus, the cultural-civilizational mood of the pagan plummets toward despair and destruction (e.g., Freud's death instinct), while the Christian cultural-civilizational mood is one mixing gratitude, cheerfulness, and realism about human sinful action.



And this claim leads me to another crucial claim: I want to say TWO THINGS AT THE SAME TIME. First, the world is nihilistic. Second, the world is God's good creation.



I say the first to my non-Christian brothers and sisters, because I think it is the only way back for them to see the world as God's good creation. Let them experience the world as empty, godless, nothingness. But then let them experience - somehow - the love of Christ, the fellowship of the Spirit, the joy of God's people, and then perhaps a new creatio ex nihilo can - somehow - happen in the midst of history: in a world of nihilism, we somehow come to see the world as God's good creation (i.e., con-version or going with a new version of the world and God). Perhaps this is the only way my second confession - the world is God's good creation - can be heard in our era.



So, fourth, do I believe that Jesus is indeed "the ruler [arché] of the kings of the earth" (Revelation 1)? ABSOLUTELY. But I refuse to declare that in a pagan fashion, i.e., in a way that would try to make Jesus' lordship a new enchantment, a new sacralization, a new charm, a new force. No! I confess Jesus is Lord in the only way Christians ever should: witness/martyrdom (martyrios). It's only by the word and articulate action that Christians witness - only by the logos of Genesis 1 and John 1 and Romans 10. All else is a pagan hangover, a pagan resurgence - charms, enchantments, forces, sacralities, coercions. We bear witness to the Sovereignty (kyrios) of Jesus through our speech and action - that is, through our politics (something, again, I assert did not exist until Christianity, granting Aristotle [who was still an enslaving essentialist] and the Roman respublica [which couldn't resist the drive to empire and superstition]).



And what is our politics? Here I am emphatic and unapologetic: our politics is to love our neighbors as ourself (something Freud thought was impossible and dangerous). And how do I want to be loved? I want to be listened to, not coerced. I want to be respected as a thinking-feeling creature, not either "privileged" with insider status or rejected as an outsider. That is, I want to inhabit public space; I want a political life, a life of speech and action among others about goodness. If I am going to love my neighbor as myself, my love must at least include these commitments.



And this is why I see Christianity and the command to love our neighbors as ourselves as the fountainhead of democracy. For me, democracy is not some mystical vision of humans autonomously-autarchically ruling themselves, proving their independence and sufficiency. No way: there's nothing messianic or sacral about democracy for me. On the contrary, democracy is a confession of humble finitude that follows from the confession of the world as God's good creation: it admits and opens the public space, the space that is neither mine nor yours or some god's but ours as God's gift, for which we are responsible. Democracy is the result of Christianity's catalyzation of secularization and its command to love our neighbors as ourselves. It's the clearing, the opening, the carving out of public space. And, of course, I have no illusions about what can happen in that "public space": it can be ugly, vulgar, godless, nihilistic. Frankly, I think that's exactly what's happening in the US: our democracy is thin, crass, an open market for human sinfulness (though much good as well). Think of the celebrities in American democracy; it's embarrassing, frankly.



I believe this is the radical, radical claim and wager of Christianity: If you forget God, this "open space" will appear as an emptiness, a meaninglessness, a nothingness. It is not self-sustaining or self-sufficient: it can't be. It will eat itself, destroy itself, ruin itself with resentment for something more. If you remember God, this "open space" will appear as God's good - fragile and free - creation worthy of love, service, responsibility, faithful presence. That's the paradoxical wager: it's the SAME space, but SOMET will interpret it as empty and angering and trashable and hatable and OTHERS will interpret it as rich and rejoicing and good and lovable. That's the paradox of Christianity in civilization: it leads to BOTH nihilization and new creation. One will kill; the other will resurrect.



This is where I think JS Mill's vision can be rightly interpreted and appropriated by Christians. On the one hand, Mill's politics entirely depends on a Christian presupposition: that the world is good, that politics is worthwhile, that neighbors should be loved. Mill has no resources for sustaining these assumptions; he simply depends on them. (The only fundamental presupposition he has is the age-old "first principle" of human self-preservation.) So when a culture or civilization becomes nihilistic, Mill's politics will appear as a joke, a pitiful joke. In nihilism, we no longer assume that the world is good, that politics is worthwhile, that the neighbor should be loved. In nihilism, we don't care, it doesn't matter, and we're often angry and bitter. So Mill sounds like a stupid white man.



But for the Christian, I think that Mill's basic (strictly formal) vision of politics can be fruitful and congruent with the foundational confession that Jesus is the ruler [arché] of the kings of the earth. How so? Mill is trying to construct a politics requiring as little force as possible; his politics is entirely dependent upon the starting belief that we actually care about our neighbors, that we wouldn't want to trample on our neighbors, that our neighbors are also free and that we have something to learn from them, etc. This is EXACTLY what Nietzsche said about the English: he said that the English pride themselves on having no use for God but they remain fundamentally dependent on Christian morality. Mill is the paradigm of this. He wants a politics with as little force as possible, with as much neighbor-regard as possible, and thus with as much public/open space as possible. That's Christian (public) morality in a nutshell, but of course Mill says nothing about God. (As I said, he's the first major Western political thinker in my reading who makes no reference to Romans 13 since Paul penned it.)



I think all of this is in line with the Christian claim that (i) the world is ONLY God's good creation and nothing more and (ii) that loving our neighbors as ourselves is the heart of God for us. The problem, of course, is that these two beliefs will self-explode without the sustaining presence of God. Instead, we'll lust for something more, something bigger, something better, something greater, and thus we'll begin to see our neighbors as  annoyances, as burdens, as obstacles, or - more brilliant and destructive - as means-to-our-ends. The neighbor becomes a steppingstone, a tool, a device, a technology. Notice: we're back to paganism, back to an "enchanted" universe filled with gods and demons, except these gods and demons are now things like celebrities, politicians, terrorists, etc. The problem about Christian politics is that Christian politics without Christ is a oneway ticket to nihilism and an intensified paganism awash with all kinds of superstition, cheap mysticism, self-help, and escapism.



This takes us back to the paradox that I want to make explicit and central: a Christian can live in a democracy as if it is the good creation of God, the very kingdom of Christ. There they live, they serve, they bear witness, they give thanks, they lay down their lives for their neighbors, they love all things and worship Christ the Sovereign (kyrios). But they can also interpret it and others can experience the same democracy as godlessness, decadence, ressentiment, nihilism, death.



Let me say again that I think democracy is the form of government least inhibitive to the Christian faith because I believe it provides the most open space in which we can love our neighbors as ourselves and thereby fulfill the law - the reign, the rule, the kingdom - of Christ. Think about it: I wouldn't want to live an Islamic society in which the political order required me either to embrace Islam or conceal my faith; more precisely, I don't think that political order would be loving ME as MYSELF - me who has freely chosen to follow Christ as Lord. But let's reverse the role: I wouldn't want a Muslim to feel any pressure to convert to Christianity or conceal their faith in MY "Christian" society; that would be the antithesis of loving my Muslim - or atheist or agnostic or Buddhist or Jewish or confused - neighbor as myself. I wouldn't want to live in that kind of society, so why would I think that they should? That would be the grossest violation of Christ the Sovereign's command to love my neighbor as myself. Thus, I think some version of "liberal democracy" - some version of Mill-ish politics - is the best ("best" not "perfect") option for Christian politics.



I must repeat this one last time: I believe Christianity leads to secularization; secularization easily leads to secularism; secularism easily leads to nihilism (i.e., decadence, ressentiment, meaninglessness, violence, boredom, etc). The crucial stake is this: unless secularization follows from the interpretation of the world as God's good creation, secularizing "Christian" politics will eat itself, ruin itself, implode on itself, self-destruct. The perverse "telos" of Christianity is nihilism - the return to (indeed, even the drive for) nothingness.



But this is nothing new. Think of Augustine. The Roman Empire is crumbling all around him, but Augustine's response isn't really, "Stop the fall! Hold it together! Maintain the empire!" As I read him in The City of God, he rather tells Christians to be good citizens who bear witness to the sovereignty of Jesus by loving their neighbors as themselves. Augustine's Christianity and his Christian politics aren't the least bit dependent on the survival of the empire. And yet he teaches faithful, loving presence centered around "help whenever you can" and "do no harm" (essentially Mill's principles actually, though without Augustine's rich ontology). Augustine isn't calling for some new Constantine to save the state. Augustine can inhabit and serve without idolizing - sacralizing, enchanting, forcing - the state.



In the same way today, I'm not saying that Christians should be diehard champions of democracy whose life and faith depends on the success of the democratic state. I'm not saying that. What I am saying is that we can love the democratic state as a political form in which we can love our neighbors freely - even neighbors who don't love us - which is the very essence of Christ's kingdom. Again, that political form - democracy - may implode on itself; it may become hopelessly nihilistic. Here the Christian must avoid two errors: first, to condemn and reject the state (some Christian anabaptist types?); second, to idolize and attempt to re-enchant the state (the Religious Right?). Instead, I think we should embrace the more modest aim of faithful presence, good citizenship, robust Christian witness to love, peace, justice, self-sacrifice, reconciliation, forgiveness, service - the common good.



To be sure, I lament the decadence of our democracy. Indeed, I think Christians like myself have some obligation - or at least opportunity - to contribute toward re-imagining what a robust democratic community could look like in which a plurality of neighbors are loved and respected. Having lived in other political contexts, I think it would be a great loss if our democracy and democracy in general fell apart. (I think of all the neighbors who are dead or rotting in prison because they believed the wrong things or gathered with the wrong people.) But that wouldn't be the end of the world, much less the end of Christ's kingdom.



I write the last paragraph because I want you to understand that there's nothing sacred about democracy for me, even though I feel some responsibility to participate in it and even try to strengthen it. The whole point of Christian politics is to reject sacralization in general. Democracy is no cult, no rite, no idol for me. Christians can and do live under aristocracies, oligarchies, monarchies, tyrannies, etc. It's just that I think democracy is the best way politically to love our neighbors as ourselves - to love our neighbors in public as ourselves. Any other politics, whatever its form, that doesn't make neighbor love methodologically and constitutively central to its operation is simplynot Christian politics in my opinion. In pluralistic, "glocalizing" age, I think democracy is our best option.



And in this respect, however surprisingly, I think Christians have far richer resources for democracy - i.e., for public space, for politics - than JS Mill or any other liberal democrat.



Much love,

Andrew