Go Thou and Vote Likewise (part 4)

Yesterday, I made the bold claim that Christ's command to help the poor was about transforming the givers as well as alleviating suffering. It's actually even more than that. Jesus came to build a kingdom, not to open a soup kitchen. The good news is his kingdom does have soup kitchens. The bad news (for lefties) is that the soup kitchens do not exist for their own sake. Which is why it is imperative that soup kitchens not be outsourced to the federal government.

Let me explain. The New Testament exhortation to give to the needy does not stand on its own. It's purpose is not only to just transfer wealth. It has a lot of other functions as well: softening hard hearts, advertising Christian love to the world, reinforcing Christian discipline, and binding Christians together. There are probably more I'm not thinking about. Notice, however, that these functions operate in the context of the church. So here's the thing: when you hand this task off to the government, you've just robbed the church of a tool, and opportunity, and joy (that results when this command is carried out).

If you really want to see how inseperable concern for the poor is with the rest of the Jesus agenda, take a look at 1 Timothy 5:3-16. Paul gives very practical advice to Timothy about widows in the church. The church is to help them, but the widows have an obligation in return. The women have to meet very specific criteria to be on "the list" - the list of widows who receive the church's help. If they don't meet the criteria, the church is supposed to take them off the list. The point here is not to exercise arbitrary control over people. The point is to help people grow in holiness.

What happens when the government keeps "the list"? To even pose the question is to answer it. The church no longer has any say at all in how funds are distributed. Of course, for non-Christians, this is a feature, not a bug. But I don't understand why I, as a Christian, should be so excited about this.

But this goes way beyond making and following rules. It concerns who gets the credit. When non-Christians look at the Christians, they are supposed to see people who love each other, really care for each other. That's supposed to be a compelling reason to become a Christian, because it is actually a proof, an evidence of supernaturally changed hearts. Now, honestly evaluate this question: in America, does any non-Christian ever think, "Wow, if I became a Christian, I wouldn't have to worry about going hungry or becoming homeless." Why not? Isn't it because the church has abrogated this responsibility? It's why few Christians in America are known for their love. Instead, we're known for certain cultural markers, moralism, scandal-ridden leaders, and our politics.

Handing over this responsibility to the government is as foolish as letting the feds take charge of evangelism or guarding doctrine. However well-intentioned, it's a high order strategic mistake. What's as a bad is the admission, implicit in this voting gambit, that the church isn't up to the job. I'm not arguing for doing less for the poor. I'm arguing for more help for the poor, but on Kingdom terms.

Go Thou and Vote Likewise (part 3)

You can't discharge your Christian responsibilities to the poor by voting. That's as simple as I can state my my second objection to the notion that voting for leftish social policies is the Christian thing to do.

Let's start with the observation that the U.S. tax code is pretty progressive. That doesn't mean it's cool or fashion forward. It means that the higher your income, the greater percentage of it you are to pay in taxes. In 2006, the top 1% of income earners paid 40% of income taxes, the top 5% paid 60%, the top 10% 70% and the top 25% paid 86% of all income taxes. What this means is that if you vote in the expectation that taxes will go up and be used to give to poor people, you are very unlikely to be the one footing the bill. This is why "tax the rich" is such a popular campaign slogan - it's someone else's money.

Put it this way: is it charity to give your assent to taking from Peter to pay Paul? Is that love? Is this what Jesus was calling Christians to? I say no - charity and sacrifice have to be coterminous. That's a fancy way of saying the person loving and the person giving have to be the same person. You can't ask someone else (in this case the anonymous rich taxpayer) to fulfill the command Christ gave you.

From another perspective, raising taxes in order to increase transfer payments does not increase a nation's "net virtue." Here's why: governments can't make people love each other. They can take resources away by force (i.e. tax people), but they can't change anyone's heart. Our acts of charity toward the poor are not only about alleviating suffering - they are also about changing our hearts. Voting to raise someone else's taxes does not change our hearts. In fact, it can lead to a dangerous complacency* (witness Europe's very, very low rate of charitable giving. "I gave at the office...the tax office").

* Or worse. The next step after appealing to Christian virtue to raise taxes is to appeal to greed and envy. "I'll raise that rich guy's taxes and give you the goodies."

Go Thou and Vote Likewise (part 2)

Some Christians want to link Christ's command to help the poor to the left's social welfare ambitions. What is the reasoning here? It's always dangerous to analyze one's opponents' unstated reasoning, but I'll try to be fair*:

If we have an obligation to help the less fortunate, then we should avail ourselves of every opportunity to do so. Private charity is great, but it just doesn't have the reach that our Federal Government does. We could accomplish so much more if the entire nation pitched in and helped.

I believe the nub of this argument is utilitarian in nature. By utilitarian I mean that it compares the outcomes of two approaches and measures the utility (happiness, relief of suffering, however you want to define it) each generates. In this case, harnessing the national government to the task results in more alleviation of poverty than private efforts alone. Therefore, we as Christians had better do all in our power to make it happen. Ergo vote Dem.

The interesting thing about a utilitarian justification is that the favored solution had better deliver the goods. It isn't enough to have good intentions**, the proposal has to work.

So does increased social spending work? Debatable. So debatable, in fact, that many hectares of our arborial friends have been pulped to print the controversy. I say no, for many reasons (moral hazard, generational poverty, harm to marriage, and on and on). But you don't have to believe me - our country recently participated in a gigantic experiement, called Welfare Reform, in which social spending was significantly restricted, with salutary results.

So if it doesn't work, or we can't agree whether it works, why should I, as a Christian, be obligated to support it? It seems the burden of proof should be on those who think this will help, not me.

To sum my first argument: if increased social spending doesn't help the poor, then I don't have to support it. In fact, I might be on the hook as a Christian to oppose it, but that's an argument for another time.

As I stated before, I think my first argument is the weakest of the three, partly because it's hard to get agreement on the efficacy of government social spending, partly because it's not really a Biblical argument. Tomorrow, I will present a much stronger case.

* I'm also going to try to reduce my level of snark in this discussion. This is a serious topic and people on the other side deserve respectful consideration and response.

** Many, especially on the left, would disagree. If the intention is good, the policy result doesn't matter. If that's the case, I'll just gin up some really good intentions as I vote (R).

Go Thou and Vote Likewise (part 1)

During and after the 2004 election, one could detect rumblings of dissatisfaction on the left over the "God gap" between the two parties. This was not only a response to a loss of votes. The self-righteousness that animates much of the left is jealous of any rival claim to virtue.

At first the response was purely negative: religion mixed with politics is bad. And not just a garden variety sort of badness. They meant a constitution-threatening sort of badness*. But this could never be the stopping point. Smart leftists realized how much they could profit from coopting a religious approach to politics. There is tacky marketing side of this ("What Would Jesus Drive", PETA's claim that Christ was a vegetarian, Jesus was a community organizer, etc.). But there is also a more serious and growing effort to insist that Christian teaching is really more consistent with the Democrat's public policy platform. The obvious contradiction between their first reaction and their second has not seemed to trouble anyone on the left, at least that I have been able to find.

The big three policy disputes in which the left thinks it has a spiritual advantage are war, the environment, and poverty. I think their most powerful and compelling argument concerns the last one, poverty and its alleviation. Led by Christians like Jim Wallis, many have pointed to the concern for the poor that is woven through the entire Bible. If Christians think the government should do something about abortion, why should poverty be any different?

It's an excellent question and one I have thought a lot about. I face somewhat of a conflict here for a couple of reasons. First, by temperment and conviction, I am a free-marketeer. I passionately believe that market economies benefit everyone, not just me, or rich people, or owners of capital.** On the other hand, I have submitted my will to Christ's will, so I have to make sure all my thoughts, commitments, and passions are in alignment with his. Second, my attitudes and acts of mercy (few as they are) toward the poor do not measure up to Christ's commands. I have to be careful that my response to the religious left's challenge is not defensive self-justification.

I have distilled my thinking in this area into three ideas. This week, I will be sharing these bullet points, in reverse order of how I estimate their force and importance.

* I meant to link to a bunch of the books I could find written in this vein but when I did a search on Amazon, there were so many I just gave up. Search terms would be "religious right threat."

** When the left charges the right with selfishness, it drives me to distraction, because my opposition to their proposals has nothing to do with my own self-interest.

Rest of series here, here, and here.

London City Mission

I've been reading a great fat work of serious history called Earthly Powers. The subtitle summarizes it well: "The clash of religion and politics in Europe, from the French Revolution tot he Great War." It's slow going for my plaque-encrusted brain, but edifying and enlightening. I picked it up because it promised to sketch the substitution of political for spiritual salvation, over the course of the 19th century.

It's all that, but I've learned a great deal more. One of the things I was only aware of by passing reference was the great Victorian charitable empires built in the second half of that century. I was amazed and inspired to discover more details of those gigantic endeavours. One of the greatest was the London City Mission, or LCM. Evangelicals founded it and send many hundreds of missionaries into London to minister in the slums. The hardships and dangers they faced rival those confronted by their colleagues who went overseas. I eagerly await this book to find out more.*

LCM still exists, and wonder of wonders, it survived the 20th century with its faith intact.

* It's endorsed by Keller, for all his fans out there!