Brian Hamilton

Legislation and the Republic

I am consistently disturbed by the fervent desire of so many Christians to hear the government underwrite our moral commitments, something happening again with South Dakota’s anti-abortion legislation. The borders of anti-abortion activism extend well beyond American churches, of course, but there’s no doubt that evangelicals shout louder than most.

It disturbs me because the attempts first of all imply all that it’s possible to make the government Christian—which inevitably waters down our witness. Secondly, though, it makes me wonder how many of us feel incapable of living a specifiably Christian life (personally or communally) without the backing of the government. Does having the Ten Commandments in front of a courthouse really aid our witness, or is losing it simply a symbol of our lapsing control on U.S. culture? Good riddance, I say, if it means that we turn back to synagogues and churches to find the proper use of Torah.

This time around, it strikes me most that the proponents of this bill really think they are fixing things. Maybe I misunderstand, but it seems to me that the conservative vision is endlessly optimistic about the American character, believing that passing certain pieces of legislation can and will make this country more morally coherent—even on Christian grounds.^{a href=”#footnotes”>1} It reminds me of something I’ve just read Plato say in Republic:

Socrates: They pass and amend the sorts of laws we have just been describing, and are always expecting that they will find a way to put a stop to cheating on contracts, and the other evildoings I mentioned just now, not realizing that they are really just cutting off a Hydra’s head.

Adeimantus: Yet that is all they are really doing.

Socrates: I would have thought, then, that a true lawgiver should not bother with laws or constitutions of this kind, whether in a politically badly governed or in a politically well-governed city—in the one because it is useless and accomplishes nothing; in the other because some of them are discoverable by anyone, while the others follow automatically from the practices already described. (Republic 426e–427a)

All that needs to be legislated, Plato goes on to say, are those practices that sustain the sort of virtue the Republic requires. Now Plato is as rigid in his morality as any Christian ever was, but he understands (wisely, in my view) that a consistent morality is the outcome of a good education and good practices—not of a mélange of specific laws that lack firm grounding in anything particular. Even Jewish law begins over and over again with “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage.” Israel was not afraid to get specific with their laws, but neither did they begin there; few groups have ever performed the rites of education so well.

I’m certainly not suggesting that the U.S. set up an educational system that insures that an “American morality.” In many ways we’ve already done so, but this dishonestly limits the pluralistic conversation that this nation is committed to. Plato does, though, recommend a better way for Christians to go about their moral agenda: by openly offering education in a different way of living and a different way of thinking.

I believe it is entirely possible to participate in a national pluralism while maintaining a consistency among ourselves not present elsewhere. We cannot, however, presume to remake the nation in our own image. And we cannot for a moment forget that our Sustainer is not that nation, but the Holy Spirit.

Endnotes

1. The same could be rightly said about the liberal agenda, of course. My point isn’t against Republicans and for Democrats, but rather that Christians should know better than to try to redeem the fallen powers by legislation instead of witness.

25 February 2006 |
tags: In the News, Philosophy