Abstract

Given the proximity of the next presidential election and the important role Christians may play in determining the shape of policy and discourse in the next four years, David Crump’s book is a timely offering. It certainly appears as if Christians, as indeed all citizens, may need help in finding new ways to view, understand, and participate in public and democratic life.
Crump’s approach is to test the political agenda against the Bible, which he seeks to study “closely and holistically” (p. xiii). In this way, he hopes to move beyond some of the entrenched positions to have a genuine debate among people who desire to have their minds conformed to Christ’s about how Christians should understand and live out biblical teaching relevant to the demands of Christian citizenship. As Crump says,
That kind of interpretive debate is well worth having, especially if all the participants remain prayerfully open to the Holy Spirit’s transforming work, allowing God’s living Word to teach, to rebuke, to correct, and to train us in righteousness, so that we will be thoroughly equipped for every good work (2 Tim. 3:16–17). (p. 13)
To facilitate that kind of “debate,” Crump introduces the book with the arresting question, “Whom Would Jesus Torture?” As the title for the first chapter, this question is certainly provocative, but it is reflective of “the main premise of this book [which] is that Christian ethics must begin with a proper understanding of Jesus” (p. 8). Although he recognizes that the approach of “What would Jesus do?” is insufficient for Christians to know how to act in every circumstance, “it certainly would not be a bad way to begin” (p. 8). But what does all of that have to do with Crump’s provocative question? Astonishingly, he cites research suggesting that
white religious conservatives, those who call themselves evangelicals—the deeply religious who emphasize the importance of being born again, having a conversion story and possessing the Holy Spirit, those who attend weekly church services, read the Bible, and protest against abortion and gay marriage—these are the people who, by a 60 percent margin, believe that it is “often or sometimes” acceptable to torture another human being. (p. 3)
Therefore, he asks rhetorically,
How can it be that the community purporting to worship the Lord who taught us by his own example to love our enemies, to pray for those who curse us, to forgive those who abuse us, even to lay down our lives in sacrificial service to those who fail to appreciate us—how can such people ever approve of torture? (pp. 8–9)
In such circumstances, Crump insists that “the American church is in desperate need of thoroughgoing renewal, not in the pietistic terms through which most people envision renewal, but through its saturation with the offensive word from Scripture” (p. 9).
The second and third chapters, “What Is the Kingdom of God?” and “Seek First the Kingdom of God,” set out his methods. Crump uses Jesus and his teachings (rather than Paul), especially that of the kingdom of God, as the starting point for his ethics (p. 15). The third and fourth chapters offer two foundational metaphors: “Living with Dual Citizenship” and “Aliens in a World of Politics.” And the fifth chapter, “How Is the Kingdom Political?,” seeks to break through the wall that often divides religion and politics to enable a more robustly theological engagement with questions in public discourse.
The remaining chapters focus on specific issues: “When Disobedience Is a Virtue,” “Taking Exception to Exceptionalism,” “Does Kingdom Service Permit Military Service?,” “God Hates Poverty,” and “Blessed Are Those Who Suffer Because of Me.” This is rounded off with Crump’s vision of what “Being a Kingdom Church” would mean and look like: a community of people who “do the will of the Father” (p. 191), characterized by the qualities Jesus called “blessed” in the Beatitudes, where the kingdom of God has ultimate value and priority.
Throughout, Crump offers questions for discussion as well as suggestions for further reading, which should make it possible to use this book as a study guide in adult Sunday school, Bible study, and home group settings. Given the topics covered, and the approach Crump takes, I imagine that such groups would see very lively discussion, and possibly even the kind of change of heart and mind Crump seeks. Indeed, Crump addresses important questions with passion and insight, and his depiction, for instance, of civil disobedience and police brutality seems all-too topical. Nonetheless, it is important to ask how likely the book is to achieve the aims Crump set out.
My first reason for questioning this has to do with the tenor of Crump’s discourse. Sadly, although he talks about the need to “remain open” to being changed by the Holy Spirit, his tone is often adversarial or dismissive, for instance, in his discussion of supercessionist views on page 126 or in his decidedly belligerent tone in discussing pacifism in chapter 9. It is not clear to me that he has genuinely understood why some Christians hold very different views to his, what their concerns are, and what ways of engaging (beyond focusing on Scripture—this was clearly a wise approach) would be helpful. If I had family members or friends who were Christians in need of persuasion of Crump’s ideas, I don’t think I could give them this book with confidence. Part of the story here, I’m sure, is the reality that mostly our wider commitments are not based on our faith, and we are all in need of continuing conversion and reform! Another part of the story, though, is that the formation of our wider commitments may well lie in areas of personhood that are less accessible and amenable to reasoned arguments, no matter how cogent and persuasive they might be. In my view, Crump could make his case much more persuasive if a different mode of engagement is adopted. For these reasons, I suspect he will be “preaching to the choir.”
However, my second reason for raising the question of how well this book will achieve Crump’s aims has to do with “the state we’re in.” When Crump provides an analysis of our current predicament(s), he does not always describe a world I recognize. For instance, on page 7 he seems still to assume that the United States is the “lone global superpower,” seeming to ignore the shifts in geopolitics that have made both China and Russia potent forces we should not ignore. In addition, since the time of publication, the world has been rocked by the COVID-19 pandemic, which seems to relativize some of the issues that had been central to public discourse. Yet there is a broader and more significant issue in play: one of the sad realities of contemporary culture wars (and this seems to be particularly true in the United States, though my view from England may be far from perfect) is that it is very difficult indeed for people to listen to each other. Instead of listening, there is all too often an assumption that “we” know what “they” have to say, so we think about our rebuttal instead, or simply interrupt and talk or even shout over each other. The habit of engaging with each other in such ways and calling it debate is unhelpful. As Rowan Williams has said, we need to see in one another fellow followers of Christ. This is surely the necessary starting point if we are to move away from this confrontational approach so that we can genuinely learn together at the feet of Christ and even learn from one another across Christian traditions and political affiliations. The church is sorely in need of this mutual learning, and the world is sorely in need of a Church which is learning together.
