Author: David Crump

Are American church/state relations in 2022 comparable to German church/state relations in 1933 when the Nazi party began its rise to power?

Eric Metaxas thinks so, and he wants to warn the American church of the existential threat it now faces.

Metaxas’ new book, Letter to the American Church (Salem, 2022; 139 pp., $22.99), begins by declaring that “the parallels [in the American church] to where the German Church was in the 1930s are unavoidable and grim” (ix). These “parallels” are most clearly seen as the evangelical church remains silent in the face of America’s own Nazi-like atrocities.

America’s atrocious sins, which are allowed to flourish in the face of evangelical silence, are comparable to Nazi preparations for the Holocaust. These sins are listed as abortion, globalism, Critical Race Theory, transgenderism, creeping communism, and the state-directed church closures ordered during the covid-19 pandemic, all of which express an “atheistic Marxist ideology” otherwise known as cultural Marxism (xii, xiii, 13-15, 91).

The only solution to society’s slide into increasing moral chaos, according to Metaxas, is for a new crop of Dietrich Bonhoeffer-like church leaders to rise up and protest – violently, if need be (more on this below) – against the country’s drift toward cultural oblivion. Metaxas’ biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer figures as the major source for this book’s political arguments, despite the very negative reviews Metaxas’ biography received from Bonhoeffer specialists. (see here, here, and here).

According to Metaxas, Bonhoeffer described a three-point solution to both Germany’s and America’s problems in his essay, “The Church and the Jewish Question.” They are [1] as the conscience of the state, the church must loudly protest against government wrong-doing; [2] the church must assist the victims of immoral state policies; and [3] if the state refuses to change its course, then the church must embrace political activism, shoving “a stick in the spokes” of the “rumbling machine of the state” (39).

The body of Letter to the American Church excoriates evangelical leaders for withdrawing from their obligation to agitate for public morality and, instead, cocooning themselves in an exclusive focus on evangelism. Metaxas’ attacks against “the idol of evangelism” (75-85) provide an important reminder (very positively, in my view) of the inherently offensive nature of the gospel and how easy it is for preachers to avoid difficult subjects like sin and judgment in order not to “offend” their listeners.

Unfortunately, Metaxas conflates his (a) justified critique of timid preachers who knowingly compromise the gospel message with (b) a highly dubious attack against evangelical leaders who will not rally their congregations to become outspoken, right-wing, Republican political agitators. Aside from Metaxas’ remarkable blindness to his own political, as opposed to truly Christian, partisanship, his apparent ignorance of American church history is surprising.

I can only assume that in wanting to write “a book for the moment,” Metaxas has restricted the horizons of his historical interest to the rise of Donald Trump and events subsequent to the 2016 presidential election. His complaints about evangelicalism’s political lethargy not only ignore the long, activist history of the Religious Right – a movement that finally threw its weight behind Trump’s campaign and carried him to victory – but seems to know nothing about the long history of evangelical activism in progressive politics, represented by people like Jim Wallis and the Sojourners’ community.

But then, Metaxas suggests that all Christians with a progressive political bent have been deceived by Satan, so their activism only contributes to the cultural Marxist dangers threatening America.

Metaxas also appears to be unaware of the wide stream of American dispensational evangelicalism-fundamentalism, going back at least to the early nineteenth century, that actively discourages Christians against political activism. Shunning politics hardly originated with those contemporary pastors now intent on putting out the fires of political divisiveness consuming their congregations.

But Metaxas is clearly in favor of churches dividing over partisan politics. In an obvious reference to MAGA-enamored churchgoers leaving congregations where their politics are not sufficiently affirmed, Metaxas says, “Many Christians are abandoning such churches for the few that are alive to the situation, where the pastors are less timid about saying what needs to be said” (36).

Certainly, the most disturbing aspect of Metaxas’ book is its subtle yet clear justification of violence for political ends. The argument is carefully, if subtly, constructed.

First, Dietrich Bonhoeffer is Metaxas’ model of Christian virtue not only because he openly criticized the Nazi regime – along with many others; Bonhoeffer was not alone in doing this – but because Bonhoeffer participated in a plot to assassinate Hitler. It is Bonhoeffer’s willingness to embrace violence as a political weapon, the very definition of terrorism, that makes Bonhoeffer a hero to Metaxas. And this is the exemplary aspect of Bonhoeffer’s life that Metaxas clearly wants his readers to emulate, for “Bonhoeffer understood that to eschew violence whenever possible did not mean that it was always possible” (109).

Though he never says it explicitly, the unavoidable implication of Metaxas’ argument, from beginning to end, is that faithful Christians will do whatever it takes to change society and move it in the right-wing direction of Metaxas’ preferred political agenda. This includes resorting to violence, if need be.

Metaxas lays the “biblical” groundwork for his call to violence-when-necessary with several specious arguments.

He begins by describing his Manichean view of the world. Everything is black or white. Anyone who dissents from his verdict on the evils destroying American society is categorized as “demonic,” a tool of Satan (96, 101, 113-114, 117). The American culture wars are a fight of good against evil, of divine forces against demonic opponents. As Metaxas draws up the battlefield, people like Jim Wallis (a Christian active in progressive politics) and Andy Stanley (a pastor combatting political division within his church) are on the Devil’s team.

Furthermore, Metaxas seems convinced that if society is in decline, then it must be the church’s fault. A faithful, protesting, politically active church would presumably carry the day and turn the tide of spreading immorality.

Metaxas anticipates the inevitable objections to his promotion of political violence by distorting the biblical view of God with his own (ironic!) version of “cheap grace,” the very problem Bonhoeffer famously attributed to the German church under Hitler.

According to Metaxas, God is not looking for believers who concern themselves with purity. Rather, God is seeking courageous, even reckless devotees who are willing to risk incurring guilt as they sin on God’s behalf. This component of Metaxas’ argument is so shocking that a few quotations are warranted to make the point:

Page 110 – To love unreservedly – which is God’s call to us – is to risk everything, our lives and our reputations. Bonhoeffer’s view of God’s real grace made it possible for him to trust Him completely. As long as he earnestly desired to do God’s will and acted from that motive, he knew the God of the Bible would see his heart and grant him grace, if it happened that he had erred.

Page 118 – (Bonhoeffer understood that) God was calling His people to something far above merely avoiding sins and keeping their noses clean. . . Being a Christian is not about avoiding sin, but about passionately and courageously serving God.

Page 120-21 – God is not a moralistic fussbudget or nitpicking God who is lying in wait. When we tell a lie for a larger good, He does not swoop in and say “Aha!” and condemn us. If we know who God truly is, we know that He is not against us, but for us. He is not Satan the accuser, looking for what sins He can find to condemn us. He is the gracious and loving God who sent His own Son to die so that we could be forgiven and saved. And when He sees us act in a way that is not calculated to protect ourselves but that is rather magnanimous and self-sacrificing for the sake of another, He rejoices.

In any other context, Metaxas’ words might sound innocent enough. But tied as they are to Bonhoeffer’s willingness to commit murder, Metaxas’ urgings for courageous Christians to behave radically, even to the point of knowingly engaging in sin, take on an ominous significance.

Since Bonhoeffer believed that God would forgive his role in Hitler’s attempted murder, Christians today should also understand that God will forgive them for whatever violent acts they commit in their “godly” efforts to redeem our society.

There is much more to criticize in Metaxas’ new book, but these are the most salient problems, in my view. I am sure that Metaxas would insist that I am wrong when I accuse him of fomenting political violence. He has constructed his book in such a way as to provide himself with “plausible deniability.”

But in today’s world, more specifically, in today’s America, my mind is not the only one that will read Metaxas’ book as a call-to-arms with a get-out-of-jail-free card neatly included.

So, beware the author who tells his readers that political violence can be the answer, describing it as a courageous act of the truly spiritual person who will be forgiven by God.