Purity Is Not A Strategy - American Reformer

Evaluating the Options of Future Christendom

This is a response to Dr. Gregory Soderberg’s recent essay “The Bugenhagen Option”and his September 28th presentation on the topic at Reformed Evangelical Seminary. The lecture covered much of the same material as the essay and also featured an extended Q&A.

Dr. Soderberg is a co-belligerent and on balance his Bugenhagen Proposal is compelling, and I sense that we agree on much. Compared to the Benedict and Boniface options, Soderberg’s proposal will clearly be the most welcomed by evangelical pastors. A church will not likely err in taking up Soderberg’s four pillars of worship, education, welfare, and government reform as pillars. These remain timeless ecclesial cornerstones, and the Church will continue to build on them for millennia to come. Despite this tint, the Bugenhagen proposal fails as a viable strategy for three reasons:

The proposal relies heavily on strained historical anachronism, conflating the universal mission of the Church with the particular challenges of America in 2024.
The proposal fails to recognize the structural incompatibility of modern administrative governance and Christian love.
The proposal relativizes poverty, lending it defenseless against materialist pressures.

To begin with, we need to acknowledge that these “options” – Benedict, Boniface, Bugenhagen – are all doing the work of symbolism. Each author in turn has fashioned a symbol for their own narrative building purposes. Mythmaking, or as N.T. Wright might say, “telling stories”, is the universal human practice. So the question is not whether we mythologize, but if we do it well. One way to do it badly is by way of fixation.“The Boniface Option” relies upon a legendary formulation of Boniface along the lines of Jehu when his life consisted of a much broader (and Benedictine) ministry. More egregiously, one can wear a man like a costume. I would suggest that Rod Dreher gramming about the Mediterranean is so uproariously un-Benedictine as to bring the integrity of his project into question. But the point is that in each of these options we are dealing with authors and interpretations – not the real thing. And yet the historicity of Benedict or Boniface actually need not restrain our imaginative deployment of these historical figures. Where the Bugenhagen Option succeeds is in its recognition of this tendency to ground a man’s symbolic value in one or two acts. Soderberg’s thorough mining of Bugenhagen’s life thus offers a more comprehensive ecclesial vision than Dreher or Isker offer. And yet something is still amiss because for all of the potential of Bugenhagen as an ideal, orthodox priorities alone do not suffice for a strategy, let alone wisdom.

Frankenstein Christianity

Strategies are always political and arriving upon a wise strategy in our time is going to require more than a Build-a-Bear project of contexts, Saints, and ideals. Unfortunately, this is the method the Bugenhagen Option relies on as Soderberg blurs three historical contexts into one: 16th century Germany, pre-Christian Rome and the modern West. While admitting that the current relationship between the Church and State differs from Bugenhagen’s time, Soderberg still wants Christians to model Bugenhagen’s civil engagement but also simultaneously claims that our time is more akin to the early Roman church. Is it too much to say this is all a bit strained? Paganism is not Apostasy and Materialism is not Cult Sacrifice. The Roman government did not fund universal welfare, education, and healthcare. And while they surely attempted to appease their citizenry with stolen monies – they lacked the democratic ideology and administrative reach of the American empire. The early church did not face an apostate (formerly Christian), technocratic and socialist regime – they faced an idolatrous and autocratic one. In contrast, Bugenhagen worked with the grain. His reforms and ministry took place within small communities of mostly baptized Germans, who largely agreed on the desirability of reform. Hamburg, the largest German city in his time, and a prime example of the kind of community Bugenhagen reformed, had a population of around 36,000 people in 1600. For perspective, that is how many illegal immigrants came into America every 4 days in the first six months of 2024. Times have changed.

Soderberg tries to ride two horses, then three horses, but finds he must settle for an imaginary horse. This is actually a strength, though it changes the utility of the Bugenhagen Option. By grab bagging from so many eras, the proposal provides us with a thorough historical picture of what the Church is for and what Christians should expect from her as an institution. They should expect orthodox worship, the teaching and application of the scriptures by skilled and courageous shepherds, and a body that meets the needs of all her members. But this misunderstands the conversation that Dreher and Isker were having to begin with. The question at root is not entirely one of ecclesial priorities but of civilizational goals and the actions that Christians in a pluralist, materialist, apostate, and purportedly democratic empire should be taking. In other words, they are political proposals for the Church. In contrast, the Bugenhagen Option then is not so much a strategy for counterrevolution as it is a reminder of the Church’s universal mission at all times and places.

The political challenge for the moment, and the reason why these overlapping options carry water, is because American protestants do not have unity on clear objectives, and thus they do not have anything that can properly be called a strategy. Even less clear is who would be able to lead American protestants in such an adventure with any authority. A proper strategy has objectives and a path to securing them – along with men who can lead the way. I think we’re too divided on these questions to move anywhere near something actionable. But yes, when the strategy finally arrives, it will be political and spiritual at the same time. There is no other kind of strategy. In the words of Nick Cave, “Get Ready for Love”.

Christian Love: The Enemy of the State

Soderberg is 100% right, the Church should be taking care of the poor, but is this an actual deficiency? Or have men found a more permissive savior? Many claim the Church fails to help the poor enough – Soderberg surely implies it – but in America, it is undeniable that in the face of emergent desperation, the Church takes the lead in willingness and execution. Even as I write this, the most reliable networks of support in post-Helene Appalachia continue to be churches, their members, and their co-religionists. Notably, this has created tension with state officials, who must always consider the political landscape. Hell hath no fury like an embarrassed bureaucrat. Even if the stories about FEMA contain embellishments or misunderstanding, it matters little because the rhetoric illuminates the nature of the contest. More importantly, the “deal” as it currently stands in America is that the government needs immense control over society so that it can protect you and make you prosperous. When people discover that a bargain is worse than a scam, they become dangerous.

Scripture speaks of the Church’s love and care for the poor as having an apologetic character. However, we must understand that this places us in direct competition with the modern administrative state. The power of state officials is always diminished by truly personal love and sacrifice because it strengthens men into self-governing bodies held together through the bonds of mutual obligation. Soderberg dismisses these concerns as excuses or distractions:

…it is common for evangelical conservatives to bemoan the bloated, “administrative” state. While we must have discussions about the proper role and limits of government, that should not stop us from taking the lead in addressing social problems. Churches must lead the way in creatively engaging the needs of their communities. This will require an “ecumenism of the trenches,” where like-minded people can and should work together wherever possible. We cannot simply blame the “liberals”. Evangelicals and conservative Catholics are doing much good work in social welfare already and should do so more and more.

This is not a Thomas Sowell essay, and the failures of government poverty relief are well documented. My point is larger in that I increasingly see something like a pitched battle between the Church and state officials over jurisdiction and terms. We know this is a battle because the officials treat it like one. Two principles summarize the relationship between the Church and state officials on issues of social welfare:

State officials prohibit or discourage unregulated poverty relief whenever they can benefit from a monopoly.
Where state officials cannot monopolize or successfully operate welfare, they co-opt or subvert existing institutions for their own purposes.

One need only recall the response of NGOs and schools during the COVID hysteria to see how government funding enfeebles your institutional backbone. More recent controversies in Ohio and Pennsylvania show just how interwoven state bureaucrats and Federal dollars are with anti-American 501c3s. Even well-intentioned ministries become easy pawns when state money flows their way.

Because bureaucrats retain expedient language derived from Christianity like “compassion” or “justice”, this arena is rife for manipulation. Such regime officers are no warlords. They work insidiously – through soft power – actively undermining virtuous and personal forms of service while expanding collectivist forms of welfare that weaken interpersonal dependencies. Thus, aid and relief can be celebrated when given to international NGOs, anti-natal initiatives, mass immigration, Muslims, or ideological empire building in Eurasia, but not towards Republican Christians or on censorship resistant platforms like GiveSendGo or Bitcoin. Churches compete with the government for “clients” and their ministries are then “put out of business”, “bought” (with strings) or fenced out with religious tests.

It is less humiliating and spiritually demanding to seek help from those who make no religious claim upon your soul. If an impoverished single mother can receive diapers and food from a purportedly secular organization rather than from a church, she is likely to choose the one that leaves her sins undisturbed. But the needy have a responsibility to seek help from the Church within the context of covenant, not simply as one vendor in a market of charities.

Love and Obligation

Paradoxically, love creates obligation. Love does not demand repayment, but it does introduce imbalance. The natural responses to love are gratitude and reciprocation. This is why love is risky and offensive. It places a claim upon a person who did not choose it for themselves. Christianity produces a love that does not demand a response – it is pure gift – while nonetheless operating upon the principle. Jesus expects those he heals to respond to the grace they have received (Lk. 17:11-19). Contrary to modern sentiment, Christian love sustains bonds of obligation between people. These bonds of Christian love are not easily severed, even surpassing blood ties (Mt. 12:46-50). Here we discover the subversive nature of Christian love that has spooked rulers of every century. Moderns of course shrink back from such bonds because of their misinterpretation of liberty as liberty from obligation. But in the pagan world, this love was rightly interpreted as radical. And it was radical because it was grace, not license. Today, grace is demanded while the natural obligations are condemned.

State bureaucrats, rooted as they are in Christian presuppositions, understand this dynamic and so are loath to relinquish any opportunity to mediate services. What do I mean by this? Quite simply, they want to be the face handing out money, education, healthcare, and food. They are happy to make a show of things, always spreading the rhetoric of love and community, provided they maintain their role as the hand that feeds. The goal is simple as it is predictable: control. Men rarely criticize, let alone oppose, the people that provide their daily bread.

The Problem with Love Machines

From his essay and lecture, I gather that Soderberg generally endorses the Christian NGO complex as a good-faith effort, so long as the institutions steer clear of major land-mines like LGBTQ endorsement. Soderberg paints a picture where the ditches on either side of faithfulness are progressivism or callousness. One needs to care enough, but not too little or too much.

Much could be said about this framing, but I want to hone in on a critical characteristic that Soderberg sees as an advantage and I see as a disadvantage. First, Soderberg identifies “administration” positively in the context of Bugenhagen. For Bugenhagen, this “administrative touch” alleviated some friction regarding church finances and generally ensured that churches were using tithes to provide food for the poor. Great story right? Well, no good deed goes misinterpreted. Soderberg’s argument is that administration is a spiritual gift, Bugenhagen had it, and we should not be afraid of it ourselves. The problem is that today, there are no Bugenhagens allowed, only Bugenhagen systems – complete with all the technology and corporatism that such operations require. If we are committed to poverty relief being an act of Christian love from brother to brother, and not a mere mediation of aid via institution, then our relationship with “administrative” systems like parachurch NGOs needs critical reevaluation.

The Relativization of Poverty

A consistent dilemma in discussions of American poverty is that there is not enough of it to go around. Despite immense inequalities of wealth and income, the standards of living for even the poorest Americans remain historically off the charts. This is not a denial of real hardships, disappointments or relative declines in wealth, but a fruitful discussion of poverty in the US cannot be grounded in the relativist covetousness of Marxism. 1 Timothy 6:8 reminds us that the Christians’ needs are met with food and shelter. Clearly we desire more than this, and when we have more than this, obligations come with that blessing.

The historic witness of the Church, as highlighted in Soderberg’s article, is that the poor faced death or slavery apart from the grace of the Church. In the Church, they quite literally found salvation. But aside from isolated disasters, Americans are simply not desperate enough for people to “need” the Church in this physical sense. For the Church to minister to the American poor in a publicly meaningful way, times are going to have to be harder and the government less generous with other people’s money. We face the looming necessity of austerity and in that transition, the Church will have greater opportunity. In the short term, the necessary economic effects of closed borders, tariffs, and defunded government institutions will slowly lower our artificially high standards of living and create a greater sense of vulnerability. This will be an opportunity for the Church as the Church, and not as a regime puppet. But people will have to accept help in the form of Christian love and not bureaucracy.

In the meantime, while the poor in America may not generally want for food, their children do starve for Christian education, and they stand defenseless in the face of corporate leviathans ready to assimilate them into their revenue generators. Big Medicine, public schools, and Big Tech have quite literally monetized the poor, relying upon their chronic illness, irreligiosity and materialism for consistent billions. The Church here has real opportunity to be an Ark for those who recognize the dangers, but lack shelter.

1618 Comes At You Fast

Religious and civil war, even (if not especially) in the context of religious reformation, is a historical norm. 60 years after Bugenhagen died, the German people plunged into three decades of war. Secularists tell themselves that such conflict are a thing of the past. I have my doubts. Nations with spiritual and ethnic conflicts as deeply rooted as ours end up going through the blender – usually Christians first. Even within the Church, there seems to be a naïveté about how all of these “options” end. Benedict or Boniface or Bugenhagen – each assumes that in some fashion we can reap what we have not sown or avoid reaping what we have sown. History offers no such comfort. In this regard, all the options are Gulag Options. None of them offer a path beyond political opposition. But that is really what we seek, is it not? Beyond opposition, we want Christian civilization, Christian rulers, Christian art. You know, the works.

If so, then our strategy (“option” if you insist), must spiritually prepare us for war and all that war brings. Whether in our time, our children’s time, or our children’s children’s time, conflict looms because God and men have long been understood to be worth dying for and in God’s view, “there is a time for war” (Eccl. 3:8). God may even be against us even for a time – to scourge but not destroy us. First there are political injustices, then prisoners, then martyrs, then massacres, but eventually and surely there will be sides and there will be war. And war means fighting. This war might look like El Salvador, with a President successfully bringing fire upon organized crime at scale. It may resemble our American Civil War, with a governor defending his right to enforce laws deemed unacceptable by Washington. It may portend 20th century Russia, with churches all but extinguished by the dark monsters of revolution. Regardless of form, such a war will not be bloodless and victory will not be guaranteed. Disordered violence is not the answer, but a more sober minded assessment of what is to come is definitely in order – especially the morality of Christian violence. I would like it much better if our “options” considered the inevitable conflict as a likely means of resurrection, rather than hearkening to some future Great Awakening arising out of a pure Church that “finally gets it right”.

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