Getting to Know You: Kaitlyn Schiess
Talking with the author and podcaster about her first book, changing directions, and today's biggest challenges for pastors and lay leaders.
Every once and a while I’ll be interviewing interesting people at the intersection of faith, politics, and public life. These interviews will take place via email, edited for clarity and length, and then shared with you.
Next up in this series is Kaitlyn Schiess. Kaitlyn is a graduate of Liberty University, where she studied history and political science. She is now a doctoral student at Duke Divinity School, where she is studying political theology, ethics, and biblical interpretation. She is the author of The Liturgy of Politics (Intervarsity Press, 2020) and a forthcoming book on biblical interpretation (Brazos Press, TBD). She is also a host of The Holy Post Podcast.
In our conversation Kaitlyn talks about her journey from wanting to go to law school to writing books about Christian political and cultural engagement, what she would change about her first book, her passion for ministering to young people, and other things.
With that, here’s Kaitlyn Schiess.
Daniel Bennett: You studied political science as an undergrad at Liberty, and are now pursuing a doctorate in theology at Duke. Walk us through your academic and vocational journey.
Kaitlyn Schiess: I am living the dream I didn't know I had! I studied history and political science at Liberty, with the goal of attending law school after graduation. I was a debater in high school and college, and I knew I loved research, argumentation, and policy details, so law school seemed like a natural route.
The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I interned at the church I grew up in, writing Bible study curriculum, teaching teenagers, and planning youth group games. That experience rocked my world. I had grown up in church contexts where women generally did not have teaching or leadership roles, so the idea that I might be called to vocational ministry was outside my entire frame of reference. But I found that I loved teaching the Bible, that work in the church felt like home to me, and that I had theological questions that needed answers. So I made what felt like a very last-minute decision to apply to seminary instead of law school, and I started the Master of Theology program from Dallas Theological Seminary the year after graduating from college.
That fall, during my first semester of seminary, the 2016 election was raging, and navigating that context while learning everything I could in my theology and Bible classes thrust me into questions about the relationship between theology and politics. I soon learned that there was a rich and robust Christian tradition of political theology, and I jumped headfirst into it. That interest, as well as a desire to teach theology to college students, led me to apply to doctoral programs in theology. I applied to a few evangelical programs, but Duke's program would not only diversify my educational background but give me the opportunity to study not only theology but political theory and philosophy. In retrospect, it's easy to see how my interests were always at this intersection of politics and theology, but it took quite a few years and angst to realize it.
DB: The Liturgy of Politics was released almost two years ago. Looking back, what do you think has aged well about this book? What would you revise, knowing what you know now?
KS: I love this question! I truly agonized over the decision to publish a book as a young person and a seminary student, and when I went to one of my professors and asked, “What if I hate this book in twenty years?” she said, “Oh, don't worry — you will.” She encouraged me that I would undoubtedly change my mind, learn new things, and come to disagree with at least some of the things I'd written in the past. But she also said, “If you wait until you're absolutely certain, completely ready, and know everything you need to know, you'll never do it.”
Unfortunately, I think that my description of the formative power of politics in our lives — the ability for media consumption and political participation to shape us much more powerfully than Christian convictions and practices — has aged very well. The theologians and political theorists I drew on to argue that we are more deeply shaped by those forces than by our churches were describing something that I fear has only increased in the years since the 2016 election.
Unfortunately, I think that my description of the formative power of politics in our lives — the ability for media consumption and political participation to shape us much more powerfully than Christian convictions and practices — has aged very well.
There are a couple things I would change now. First, at the time, I think I underestimated the degree to which younger evangelicals/exvangelicals could be deeply formed by progressive or liberal political messaging. Most of the young evangelicals I knew were sincerely struggling with where they “fit” theologically and politically, and working their way out of the generational idolatries and biases they inherited from their parents and churches. I wish I had had the foresight to spend at least a little time articulating the potential for false political gospels of the left to shape my generation.
Second, the “Christian nationalism” conversation blew up in the two years since I published that book. I feel strongly that we need help differentiating between true “Christian nationalism” and Christian convictions informing our political participation, and if I had known how that conversation would go, I would have spent more time in the book on that.
DB: Differentiating between Christian nationalism, on the one hand, and desiring for our Christian convictions to influence our political participation, on the other, also strikes me as essential. What do you think the current debates (on both “sides”) miss about this, and how would you encourage Christians as they wrestle with this distinction?
KS: Both sides would benefit from some history — both reflection on religion and politics in American history, and the rich history of Christian theological reflection on politics. We are not without resources or examples—positive and negative—for how Christians have influenced the politics of their respective communities.
We cannot ignore the ways that Christians in American history, very often marginalized by racial or ethnic prejudice or gender discrimination, have fought for genuinely good social and political goals by drawing on the language of Scripture and Christian theology and the ideals of the American story. We also cannot ignore the ways that Christian identity and conviction have been subordinated to partisan political goals and identity.
All political and ethical and theological judgments are made in particular contexts, under the pressing needs of specific concerns and responding to the failures of previous generations, so we cannot determine the balance we need here without attention to our own history and our current context. But listening to and learning from history gives us some ideas about the space we might find between Christian nationalism on one hand and a public square devoid of religious conviction on the other.
DB: Correct me if I’m wrong, but your next book will be directed more at pastors and church leaders. As someone studying to be a leader in the church, what do you see as the biggest challenges for pastors and lay leaders today in shepherding their congregations?
KS: The next book is really about what I just described: looking to our own history for examples to learn from, particularly when it comes to how we use the Bible in our political conversations. I wanted to give pastors and lay leaders an accessible resource for learning more about how we can navigate biblical arguments in politics, by seeing how we've done it in the past. I think this is one of our biggest challenges today, but it is also a challenge that has always been with us: our battles over the Bible.
The Bible should be something that can draw us together, give us a common language and authority as a starting place for our conversations, but it often is another site of partisan conflict.
Christians, especially evangelicals, share a love for Scripture — and a sense that it is our ultimate authority, including in our public lives. But we have deep, seemingly intractable disagreements when it comes to how it should be applied in politics. It's a symptom of a larger problem: our different media consumption habits, social environments, and prior political commitments put us in different worlds from each other.
The Bible should be something that can draw us together, give us a common language and authority as a starting place for our conversations, but it often is another site of partisan conflict. It is my hope that we can continue to center the BIble in our conversations, and learn better ways to ground our disagreements in love for one another and love for God's Word as a book that is a true gift for the church.
DB: You have a passion for ministering to young people. What is something you would say to a Christian college student continuing to listen for God’s direction for their life in this frenetic era?
KS: I remember what it was like to grapple with deep and important questions as a college student, and I had the gift of faithful mentors who I hope to emulate in the future. If I was talking to a Christian college student discerning God's direction in their life, I would first describe to them my wandering path to the work I'm doing now. I think we all need to hear stories of people who ended up in places that seem natural and obvious now, but were far from obvious in the past — and the ways that God was faithful along the way.
If you had asked me in college what I'd be doing in 10 years, studying for my doctorate in political theology at Duke could not have been farther from my mind. Regardless of our stage in life, we all need the comfort of knowing we are not the masters of our destinies, “nor even of this new day,” as one of my favorite prayers in Every Moment Holy says. We can rely upon the Holy Spirit—in Scripture, in the life of our communities, in the wisdom of our elders in the faith, in our own selves—both to guide our next steps and to lead us wherever we need to be in spite of our waywardness.
DB: What are two or three books you think all people interested in faith and public life should read to better make sense of our world today?
KS: This is a very hard question! I can't help but say Augustine’s City of God, though it is long and might be difficult for people unaccustomed to reading patristic theology. But it is worth it! I just learned of a pastor who spent a year reading it with a group of people at his church, none of whom were academics or seminary students. It is perennially important for anyone trying to understand our world, because Augustine tackles questions of his own political and social context by dwelling on more foundational questions of human nature, human communities, and the ultimate end of humans as creatures made for communion with God.
Two easier (but still excellent) suggestions: Strong and Weak by Andy Crouch and The Cross and the Lynching Tree by James Cone. One gives an invaluable framework for thinking about power, human nature, and human communities; the other gives a theological account of white supremacy and biblical interpretation that anyone thinking about faith and public life in America should grapple with.