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Race
5 min read

How reconciliation underpins acts of reparation

The case for reparations is criticised for looking too much to the past. Anthony Reddie argues that the ancient roots of reconciliation are vital for today’s debate.

Anthony Reddie is Professor of Black Theology at the University of Oxford, and Director of the Oxford Centre for Religion and Culture.

A diagram plan of a slave ship showing hundreds of body outlines.
Diagram of the ship ‘Brookes’ from Regulated slave trade: reprinted from the evidence of Robert Stokes. (London, 1849)
Lambeth Palace Library.

Reconciliation is the key theological motif that runs through the scriptures and across Christian Tradition - Reconciliation between God and humankind, reconciliation between human beings across the cultural, social, political, ethnic and economic divide, reconciliation between our warring selves within us. 

Paul’s writings form the earliest documented texts in the New Testament canon. His writings are full of references to God’s reconciling work in Christ on the cross. This theme, however, needs to be read in terms of Jewish thought. This will correct the over-spiritualising of this in Christian practice. 

To make sense of the notion of reconciliation one also must understand the Jewish antecedents that inform Paul’s writing, given Paul himself was a Jewish man. In the Hebrew scriptures and in Jewish thought, atonement and salvation are collective and corporate concepts. This is very different to much of what constitutes post-Reformation Evangelical Protestantism where the emphasis is on individual salvation in Christ, by grace, through faith. 

The Hebrew Bible traditions of the Sabbath and Jubilee were moments for system re-set and dismantling inequalities which had accrued. 

Essentially, being in right-standing with God necessitated that one should be in right relationships with others. In fact, one could argue that it appears to be the case that one cannot be in a right relationship with God unless you were doing right by the other. The above can be seen in the Old Testament book of Leviticus. The early verses of its sixth chapter clearly state the notion of restorative justice for that which was wrongly taken and used, which is described as a “sin against God”. 

One can also see this concept or formula evident within the book of Deuteronomy 15:12–18. The key is verse 12 which states:  

“If any of you buy Israelites as slaves, you must set free after six years. And don’t just tell them they are free to leave – give them sheep and goats and a supply of grain and wine.”  

As Peter Cruchley’s work on the Zacchaeus Tax campaign has shown, the Hebrew Bible traditions of the Sabbath and Jubilee were moments for system re-set and dismantling inequalities which had accrued. They were moments of breaking the cycling, ongoing basis of debt and economic enslavement. It’s worth reminding ourselves that not one penny has been given to any of the descendants of enslaved Africans for the wrong done to them and yet Christian communities in the West still want to talk about redemption that is affirmed by their Judeo-Christian roots! 

Understanding the scriptures in their historical context enables Christians to discern a theological pattern for using money and other resources for enacting restorative justice. Modern interpretive theories on how we read biblical texts take full account of the fact that the New Testament was written within the context of the Roman Empire, where the Emperor claimed divine honours which faithful Jews could not affirm. Today’s reader must recognise that the context in which ALL of the New Testament canon was composed was one that echoed to the restrictive strains of colonialism and cries for justice against oppression. Judea, in which Jesus’ ministry was largely located, was an occupied colony of the Roman Empire. 

Contemporary scholars have shown that in the Jewish tradition, issues of reconciliation, redemption and salvation have a corporate ad a collective dimension to them as well as an individualistic one. 

Scholars such William R. Hertzog II have shown the extent to which wealth in the Roman Province of Palestine was always connected with economic exploitation. So, when Jesus challenges the ‘Rich Young Ruler’ to follow him, he says this in knowledge that the young man’s accumulation of wealth was not amassed in a neutral context. The reason why this encounter is so compact is because both the Rich Young Ruler and those first hearers knew the expectation of how he should behave. 

The Three Cs (commerce, civilisation and Christianity) were the underlying rationale on which the British Empire was based. The Three Cs were coined by David Livingstone (a London Missionary Society ‘Old Boy’) in Oxford in 1857. The exporting of Christianity via the European missionary agencies in the eighteen and nineteenth centuries was largely undertaken under the aegis of empire and colonialism. Christian mission, therefore, has had a difficult relationship with non-White bodies or the ‘subaltern’ for centuries as they are the ‘other’ and have been exploited for economic gain. There was no ethic of equality between missionaries and the ‘natives’. 

One can see that Jesus’ teachings around wealth and its relationship to discipleship and living the “Jesus way” has political and economic implications. Scholars such as Musa W. Dube, Catherine Keller, Michael Nausner and Mayra Rivera, have all shown the similarities between first-century Palestine, the slave epoch of the sixteenth to eighteenthcenturies, the eras of colonialism and our present globalized, postcolonial context. Each context is based upon imperialistic/colonial expansion, capital accumulation, forced labour and exploitation of the poor by the rich. 

Pharaohs on Both Sides of the Blood-Red Waters is the title of a 2017 book by the famed anti-apartheid activist and scholar Allan Boesak, who reflects on the contemporary ‘Black Lives Matter Movement’ largely in the US and post-Apartheid South Africa. In this context he speaks of the corporate reality of ‘Cheap Grace’ as outlined by the famous German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The West has attempted transformation WITHOUT sacrifice or restorative justice. Bonhoeffer chided Western Christians for wanting to have discipleship without radical commitment to God’s word, and forgiveness and redemption without struggle and sacrifice. Boesak reminds us that there is no redemption without the cross. Reconciliation must cost us something! 

Due to the influence of post-Reformation Evangelicalism, we have largely interpreted Jesus’ words in a purely individualistic way. Contemporary scholars have shown that in the Jewish tradition, issues of reconciliation, redemption and salvation have a corporate and a collective dimension to them as well as an individualistic one. 

I believe that institutions like the Church of England can set a prophetic lead to other Christian institutions, and beyond it, to other civic bodies and indeed governments.  ‘Cheap Grace’ NEVER leads to redemption and reconciliation. Without restorative justice there is no reconciliation, and the mission of Christ is diminished.

Article
Belief
Church and state
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Nationalism
Politics
5 min read

Sorry, Danny Kruger, a Christian nation is a bad idea

Quite simply you cannot build a nation-state on the teaching of Jesus

Sam Tomlin is a Salvation Army officer, leading a local church in Liverpool where he lives with his wife and children.

An English flag flies on a church tower.
Different Resonance on Unsplash.

Danny Kruger has become one of my favourite politicians in recent months. His contributions in parliamentary debates on assisted suicide and abortion have endeared him to many Christians including myself as he has led the charge (along with other notable parliamentarians and thought leaders) against what has been dubbed the ‘parliament of death,’ exposing the shaky ethical foundations on which they lie. 

He entrenched this reputation with many Christians with a recent speech on the ‘Christian foundations’ of England (‘out of which the United Kingdom grew’) and a passionate plea to recover such foundations. This speech went viral in Christian circles as it articulated the aspirations of many to re-establish Christianity as a national force, specifically in the physical representation of power, the House of Commons. The speech ticked all of the ‘Christian nationalist’ boxes: Christianity should be the ‘common creed’ of the country; England was founded ‘uniquely among the nations’ on ‘the basis of the Bible’; it is the ‘oldest Christian country’; ‘the story of England is the story of Christianity operating on a people.’ A remarkable set of claims to make the butterflies flutter in any Christian’s stomach, surely? 

This vision of a ‘Christian nation,’ however, typically represented by Kruger is based on an understanding of Christianity which bears little resemblance to its central character: Jesus. There is much talk of ‘nationhood’ and ‘biblical values’ in such thinking, but tellingly little about Jesus himself (Kruger’s speech makes one passing reference to him). The reason is not complicated. Quite simply you cannot build a nation-state on the teaching of Jesus. 

Every nation-state (including England, the ‘prototype’ of such a concept, according to Kruger) was formed though violent subjugation of rival tribes and narratives, establishing a monopoly on the means of legitimate violence to centralise power for princes to wage war and protect private property. Jesus’ commands to love one’s enemies, pray for those who persecute you, not resist evildoers and give away possessions are not simply an inconvenience to such a programme, but are profoundly impractical. Like an embarrassing and awkward family member turning up uninvited to a wedding, they stand opposed to a ‘civilisational Christianity’ which seeks to be the ‘chaplain of nations’ as Kruger suggests, resisting any attempt at baptising and polishing a version of what remains Machiavellian statecraft. 

These two forms of Christianity are in fact little more than two sides of the same coin and there is a more fundamental distinction to be made. 

Like a cricketer putting on extra padding to face a fast bowler, Christian ethics softens the blow of such radical expectations by suggesting that Jesus can’t really have meant what he said, especially for modern, enlightened folk today. Perhaps Jesus expected the Kingdom of God to arrive more quickly than it did and as time progressed, we needed a more practical ethic. Not wanting to abandon Jesus, his teaching is reduced to general ‘values’ like ‘love’ or ‘justice,’ the content of which in fact become the precise opposite of what Jesus taught. ‘Jesus may have said to love enemies, but we will be less safe if we do, so we had better kill them.’ ‘Jesus may have said not to love money, but our economic systems which seem quite good at alleviating poverty rely on this, so greed isn’t so bad.’ 

It may sound as if I am opposing Kruger’s vison for the alternative option in the culture wars. It is often suggested that there are two ‘Christianities’ at work in the West: one represented by Kruger might be called the ‘Christian right,’ which emphasises family values, patriotism and the importance of place, the other (at which Kruger takes aim in his speech), a left-wing or ‘woke’ Christianity which stresses welcoming the stranger, economic justice and identity politics. 

This is a red herring, however. These two forms of Christianity are in fact little more than two sides of the same coin and there is a more fundamental distinction to be made. For while they might disagree on content, the method is remarkably similar. Left-leaning Christians may disagree with Kruger on his definition of a Christian nation but would uphold the desire for the nation-state to be founded on values they consider Christian. The common assumption is that Christianity is a ‘civilisational’ force, ideally enacted by Christians and their narrative taking hold of the levers of power and influence and dominating the ‘public square.’ 

If Jesus’ teaching is not supposed to be embodied by the nation-state, however, what is its purpose and does this not leave the public square to malevolent forces, as Kruger suggests? Jesus’ teaching is indeed directed at a particular body of people who are supposed to embody it publicly, and that is the community explicitly committed to follow and structure social life around the living presence of Jesus; this is the church. The New Testament even suggests the language of nationhood is appropriate for this body as a new nation is being formed around the person of Jesus who commands the allegiance that modern nation-states claim for themselves. 

Kruger’s vision of the Church of England’s parish system is where ‘we are all members, we all belong, even if you never set foot in your church from one year to the next, even if you don’t believe in its teachings, it is your church, and you are its member.’ This is a million miles away from the vision of the New Testament where entry into this newly formed community implies active repentance and a collision with the ways of the world represented by mere ‘values.’ If that makes me part of ‘another eccentric denomination’ according to Kruger, then so be it. 

To suggest that this alternative vision cedes the ‘public square’ to malevolent forces also betrays a lack of imagination around the public nature of the church. It is assumed that if Christians retreat from the ambition to explicitly and directly make our nation-state Christian then we relegate our religion to the realm of the ‘private’ and succumb to the worst elements of Enlightenment fears about religion in the public square. The earliest Christians had no explicit desire to ‘transform the Roman empire and make it Christian’ but simply took Jesus at his word on wealth, forgiveness, welcome of the stranger and proclamation of salvation and the life made possible by Jesus’ death and resurrection. This was their public witness and it just so happened that it utterly transformed the communities in which these followers of Jesus were situated at the same time. This vision certainly has a place for Christians engaging in politics as Kruger has in debates on assisted suicide for instance, exposing the shaky foundations of any form of life not founded on the life made possible in Jesus. This is most appropriately done, however, without reaching for language that implied the state has salvific qualities, language Christian teaching rightly reserves only for God himself. 

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