Old Testament Lesson: Psalm 33:8-17
New Testament Lessons: Romans 13:1-7, Mark 12:13-17
Another year has turned and, somehow, as I sit at my desk at the end of July, I can’t help but think how disappointing my favorite holiday was this year. If you were in church this Fourth of July weekend (or tuned in on facebook), you’ll know that my favorite holiday is Independence Day, and if you checked the weather, you’ll know that it was raining. As such, my local parade was rained out, my fireworks were rained out, but I did get to watch the musical 1776—which I recommend to everyone who hasn’t seen it.
This year I preached on “hospitality,” a rather unusual Christian virtue, but in the spirit of the holiday I love so much, I want to mark it again. After all, for me it’s still July, we’re still in the month of Independence. And Independence is not something that can be contained in a single day or a single month, it is an act that follows us all of our lives whether we remember it or not.
Now, normally, I preach from scripture and avoid all talk of politics, but today I wanted to do something a little different. I wanted to mark our Independence Day, as I said. But how to do it? What to say? What great person of history should I honor?
When turning these questions over in my head, ideas flitting here and there as they often do, I eventually settled on the great American tradition of the Separation of Church of State. It’s not something we talk about all that much, but of course it’s something we’ve been talking about a lot with the recent Supreme Court decisions. We reference it. We point it out and say, “Oh, no, remember—separation of Church and State!” But what is the history? What does it mean? Do we even truly know ourselves?
It seems that our litigious society simply will not allow us any resolution on the age-old question of the relationship between Church and State. And not in my wildest dreams would I claim that I have the magical answer to the entire issue—especially in something so short as this mini-sermon. However, the way Americans have been going on and on about it, suggesting that the courts can resolve problems such as who you don’t have to bake a cake for, you’d think we’d invented the entire problem. But as the Psalms, and the Letter to the Romans, and Mark’s gospel remind us, it’s a much older issue than that.
To the ancient Hebrew mind, there was no division between religious life and social life – at least, this division did not exist in their ideal world. The Lord had formed the nation by calling His people, bringing them up from slavery, and established them in their own Promised Land – leading them in battle, granting them prosperity in peace while chastising their waywardness and loving them despite their national foolishness. Ideally, for the children of Israel, God was theirs, and they were His … at least some of the time, anyway. The relationship between the people and their God was not unlike that old saying, that you can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. Or, to put it in Old Testament terms, the children of Israel might wander from their Lord, but the Lord would always be by His children.
By the time of Jesus, a few things had changed. The new rulers of Judea had no regard for the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. To a certain extent, the Roman overlords tolerated the Jewish people in what the Romans viewed as their peculiar religious customs … but the Judeans were not quite sure what their relationship should be with their pagan masters. What do you do when the authorities order you to do something that is contrary to everything you had ever known, or believed? Some Judeans encouraged open rebellion. Others said God’s people should try to adapt in the expectation that one day things might change. And still others tried to ignore the political implications of their own religion by simply living quiet lives divorced from whatever evils the Romans might represent. It was in this confused and highly charged atmosphere that Jesus said, “Pay your taxes” – something that the revolutionaries in 1776 disagreed with, vehemently. Remember something called the Boston Tea Party?
Paul, of course, commenting on Christ’s message about taxes, was even more dramatic on this point: don’t just pay your taxes, but submit fully to your earthly authorities. I’m not sure what John Adams would have made of that.
What does all this mean for us today? Here we are, trying to figure out what the courts are telling us about adoption agencies and foster children, about prayer in school or religious content in graduation speeches, about tax breaks for religious institutions, and private prayer in public spaces. With the new rush of rulings, it’s almost as confusing as the notions given to us by the Psalms, by the Apostle, and by Christ, of how believers are to behave with regard to the powers that be.
As I said, I doubt I can untangle all this, but I believe there is a certain clue that might help us in our own thinking. We have gotten very much into the habit of talking about Church on the one hand, and State on the other. And whatever you might think of this or that individual application of the idea regarding the separation between the two, most of us agree that, by and large, separation of the two has had its advantages, even if the separation has not been flawless.
But the real issue is not so much about Church and State, but the relation between God and State. And I think there is a big difference, a difference that is often missed or ignored by many of us. Yes, we believe that the Church is called into existence by God, and is charged by God to do His will – though whether the Church listens to the call is highly debatable at times. We affirm, with some justification, that the Church is to be guided by God’s Spirit – though again, many churches test that affirmation mightily. Sometimes, we may find especially in recent day, it just gets too political.
BUT the Church is meant to serve God, and that Church is made up of people. And as one wise man said a generation or two ago, the Church is not a gallery for the exhibition of eminent Christians, but a school for the education of imperfect ones. The Church has no corner on the market regarding righteousness, wisdom, or truth. But if the Church doesn’t, that doesn’t mean that God doesn’t. The Church may be the body of God, but the Church is not God. And God is not the Church. We can separate Church and State, perhaps imperfectly, but it can be done, theoretically. But separating God and State is another matter entirely.
In point of fact, I’m not sure we can separate God from anything. That’s beyond our pay grade, as a recent president suggested in a different context. God is at the base of everything. Anything that exists is somehow touched by God. All that is found above the earth, upon the earth, and under the earth is dependent on God’s good pleasure. It’s almost like that old saying I mentioned earlier about taking the boy out of the country – you can separate the State from God, but you can never separate God from the State.
And that truth has been one of our guiding principles from even before the foundation of the American republic. The Pilgrims knew it, and expressed it in their Mayflower Compact in Plymouth Bay. William Penn, the founder of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, knew it when he said, “If you are not governed by God, you will be ruled by tyrants.” The framers of the Declaration of Independence knew it when they adopted the words of Thomas Jefferson, who said that “all men are created equal and are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights.” And George Washington knew it, when he declared the first Thanksgiving Day as a day when God would be honored.
They, and so many others, knew that because God is God, people are called to respond to Him. The State cannot dictate the form of the response that we make – or even if we are to make any response at all. Indeed, no combination of Church and State can tell us how, or whether, we are to respond to God’s call. Maybe in 330 million different ways we will respond – but that is up to each one of us to make of it what we will. And whether our courts or our society will be able to sort it all out for us, well, only God knows!
In the meantime, however, allow me to close by sharing some words not of an American, but the words of someone who admired America greatly. Early in the 19th century, Alexis de Tocqueville wrote:
“I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her commodious harbors and her ample rivers, and it was not there.
“I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her fertile fields and boundless forests, and it was not there.
“I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her rich mines and her vast world commerce, and it was not there.
“I sought for the greatness and genius of America in her democratic Congress and her matchless Constitution, and it was not there.
“Not until I went into the churches of America and heard her pulpits flame with righteousness did I understand the secret of her genius and power.
“America is great because America is good, and if America ever ceases to be good, American will cease to be great.”
I hope you had a Happy Fourth—if not a wet one!
Archdeacon’s Corner
Blue eyed cats are often prone to deafness. I had no idea until I read this online. In fact, I had no idea there were blue eyed cats. I thought they all had golden colored eyes or green eyes, but I stand corrected. If you see a blue eyed kitty, doublecheck with his owner that he can hear and don’t make any sudden movements!
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