Preparing for January 20, 2025
A selection from Uneasy Citizenship, plus some reading recommendations
Today is my birthday.
I’m not telling you this so you can send me a gift — though I wouldn’t object to somebody endowing a professorship for the Department of Political Science at John Brown University (contact Brad in University Advancement, if you’re interested). No, I’m telling you because every four years I share my birthday with a pretty important day in American constitutionalism.
January 20, of course, is when Americans inaugurate our president.
I’ve always admired the pomp surrounding presidential inaugurations. Yes, a presidential inauguration marks the official end of the previous year’s campaign and the beginning of a president’s four years in office. But the ceremony that accompanies presidential inaugurations—featuring elected officials of both political parties and representatives of the judicial branch—is not just theatrics; it is a reminder of the peaceful transfer of power that has become a hallmark of American republican democracy.
We’ve had our share of political polarization and extreme partisanship throughout our nation’s history. Just two years ago rioters disrupted Congress’ certification of the 2020 election, violence predicated on a lie about that election’s outcome. And yet, just two weeks later, American government’s peaceful transfer of power continued (mostly) unabated.1 Call me a sucker if you want, but I’m happy to share my birthday with such an important day in our constitutional order.
Which brings me to the point of this short newsletter: Two years from today, the United States of America will be inaugurating its next president. Whoever this person is—Joe Biden, Donald Trump, Kamala Harris, Ron DeSantis, or somebody not yet on our collective radar—will almost certainly have prevailed in a bitterly contentious campaign, with Democrats and Republicans alike predicting that losing the election would mean losing the soul of America forever.
I’d like to share a short selection from my in-progress (and, God-willing, forthcoming) book, Uneasy Citizenship, which speaks to this inevitable turmoil and concern for the future. It’s not that I think Christians should only look heavenward as we ignore the political divisiveness of our contemporary age. Rather, Christians should approach politics with both the seriousness it deserves as we seek the flourishing of our communities, yet with the caution it requires as a tempting and pernicious source of idolatry.
Christians can easily flock to one of two extremes when it comes to engaging politics. We may approach politics in a way very much of the world, our behaviors indiscernible from our non-Christian neighbors. Conversely, we may reject the apparent filthiness of politics and believe the best Christian kind of political engagement is a rejection of politics entirely.
Neither of these approaches are ideal. Christians cannot ignore politics to supposedly keep our hands clean from the grime of the political world. Political engagement is a certainty of living in community; ignoring politics doesn’t change this. At the same time, our posture and approach to politics must be confounding to the world’s understanding of politics. Consistency, humility, and an orientation to justice should dominate Christian political engagement rather than toxic partisanship, bravado, and a strategy emphasizing winning at any and all costs. We must be honest in assessing the strengths and weaknesses of Democrats and Republicans as our two major political choices. We can be faithful in our partisanship and faithful in our nonpartisanship.
I have memories from my childhood of my mother referencing a Southern Gospel song titled “This World is Not My Home.” I don’t recall singing the song at church, but I remember the lyrics and tune well. The song begins with a short verse:
This world is not my home, I’m just a-passing through;
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue;
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door,
And I can’t feel at home in this world any more.
I wouldn’t characterize this verse as promoting an ascetic or disconnected Christianity, one that encourages an aloofness from the troubles and trials of the world. Instead, it is a healthy reminder of the limits of politics to truly save us. Yes, politics and elections matter. It matters who governs us and how. But when we think it is politics that can save or redeem us and our communities, it becomes a dangerous and corrupting idol. As Christians, it is always important to remember that while we must not neglect our attention to and work in the world, this world is ultimately not our home. Our eyes must be affixed most securely not to polls, campaigns, or court cases, but to the cross.
And now, two pieces of recommended reading:
Writing in America, Chris Crawford explained why he is concerned about the future of America. Speaking as someone who identifies as pro-democracy and pro-life, Crawford said that extreme and negative partisanship threaten the ability of Americans to sort out our deepest differences through political means. A solution, he wrote, is to reorient how faith communities—including Christians—approach and understand political engagement. The new Center for Christianity and Public Life, he said, is one initiative offering a hopeful way forward.2
Americans United for Life unveiled a new policy proposal with a simple goal: Make birth free. In our post-Roe environment, we can expect more babies to be born in the years ahead. It’s encouraging to see unapologetically pro-life groups like AUL offer a creative solution to what will no doubt be a real challenge for many — namely, the financial costs of having and caring for a newborn. As I wrote for Christianity Today following last summer’s Dobbs decision, Christians should not look solely to the government to provide material benefits for the preborn, newborns, mothers, and their families, but we should consider government services as an important component of the pro-life cause.
I say “mostly” because, in a major break with precedent, the outgoing president was not in attendance, choosing instead to leave Washington prior to the inauguration. This didn’t affect the transfer of power in any meaningful way, but I hope this early departure was a one-off rather than a trend we can expect to see from future soon-to-be-ex-presidents.
I am very excited about the CCPL, and am looking forward to the prospect of partnering with them in the future.