An X post from February:
There’s a lot of talk right now about Christians (and conservatives) learning to embrace and wield political power — something we have not really done for quite some time. This is all well and good. Being afraid of power is immature and irresponsible. Christians should seek to gain political power and use it for good. A pietistic, Gnostic fear of political engagement has kept Christians weak and marginalized for far too long, which is not only bad for us, it’s bad for everyone. Christian statesmen have access to wisdom that non-Christians lack; we have a framework for understanding the purpose of civil government, God’s design for human society, and the proper application of civil justice that others will not have. There has been a dire need for serious Christians to enter the political arena for a long time; it’s wonderful that we seem to have turned a corner.
But what should not be overlooked is that the church has power that Christians have also refused to wield for good. The church has a different kind of power, to be sure, and uses different tools and weapons. But the church is unarguably powerful. It is a more subtle form of power, like leaven working its way through a batch of dough. But though it is a more covert kind of power, it can be every bit as much public and political as power wielded by civil magistrates.
How does the church exert this power in the world? When the gospel is preached in all its fullness, culminating with the declaration of Christ’s lordship, it is certainly transformative for individuals and families, but it is also socially and culturally transformative. Think of the early Christians who ultimately toppled the Roman Empire with no access to conventional political power, without lifting a sword, but who preached and prayed their way to the beginnings of Christendom. Or think of Luther’s quip about the Reformation: while he sat and drank beer with Phillip Melanchthon, the Word (that he had preached and written about) did all the work. Or consider the “black robed regiment” of Presbyterian pastors whose preaching produced the American War for Independence. Take note of the well documented prayers that aided and abetted the downfall of the Soviet “iron curtain” in Eastern Europe; in the aftermath of the 300,000 strong prayer rally in November 1989, a communist official even admitted, “We were prepared for every eventuality — but not prayers and candles.” Prayers brought down the Berlin Wall.
Again: it’s good that Christians seem to be learning that political ambition can be righteous and holy. It is good and proper for Christians to seek political influence and dominion; it is good for Christians to hold high ranking positions in civil government; it is good for Christians to seek to exert political power in righteous ways and to righteous ends. Christians need to be salt and light in high places as opportunity allows. But whether we have political power in the civil government or not, we always have the weapons of liturgical war and Spiritual war at our disposal. The church does not merely seek to vote her way to cultural victory; she preaches and prays, she serves and suffers, she disciplines and disciples her way to dominion. The church has immense power to change the world. She needs to seize that power and use it. For too long we have allowed our unique ecclesial powers to lie dormant; it’s time to take up the sword of the Spirit, the imprecations of the psalter, and petitions offered before the throne of grace, the cosmic Oval Office. Political action by Christian statesmen has its place in producing a discipled nation – but political activism for Christians should never be separated from liturgical activism. It’s time to unleash the power of the church.