In 2024, more people voted in more elections in more countries than in any other year in human history. Not all of the elections were free and fair, but meaningful national elections were held in several of the biggest countries of the world (e.g., Brazil, India, Indonesia, Mexico, USA) as well as in regionally important countries such as South Africa, France, Taiwan, and the United Kingdom.
It was a big year, then, for politics and political parties. Unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of the year in many of those countries was bitter polarization in which people regularly insulted and even condemned other human beings because of political differences. And this was fostered by the outrage industry of social media where many posts and clicks seem to encourage anger and the dehumanization of other people.
This is a result of some natural tendencies. Humans tend to seek inclusion and solidarity; we want to be a part of a group. And once in a group, we tend to double down on that identity and can be tempted not to treat outsiders very well. This seems to be especially the case in political groups where we can become convinced that we have the right policy position on . . . you name it: vaccines, abortion, climate change, immigration, etc. And if someone doesn’t share those policy positions, they are not only wrong but they’re probably a horrible person and we should be angry at them and their party.
This is not an encouraging situation for religious life. How SHOULD Christians act in a time like this? What approach to politics SHOULD we take? There are some helpful and interesting ideas in the story of the Lord’s life as outlined in a recent book, "The After Party," by Curtis Chang, et al.
We tend not to think much about politics when we read the New Testament, but Jesus grew up in a very political environment. As we know from the Christmas story in Luke (see Luke 2), the Roman Empire controlled the area and had done so for several decades. That simple geopolitical fact colored every aspect of life in that area – especially politics.
Around the time of the Lord’s birth a variety of rebellions and Roman policies shook the area. One of them was the rise of a movement called the Zealots whose members wanted to get rid of the Roman occupation. They led a tax revolt and burned the houses of tax collectors before the Roman military squashed them. They were led by a man named Judas, Judas of Galilee — the part of the land of Israel where Jesus would grow up. So, it’s likely that the Lord grew up in an area filled with anti-Roman sentiment. But there were also Jews who worked with the Romans: the Herods among the elite, and the tax collectors, who were seen by many other Jews as traitors.
There were also political divisions among the Jews themselves. The Pharisees and the Sadducees were the rival religio-political parties of the time; the Sadducees tended to be elite aristocrats and were content with the status quo under Rome while the Pharisees tended to resist the occupation. As in our time, there was a lot of tension and anger between those opposing groups or parties.
Jesus was a puzzle. He seemed to love parties (no, not political parties, actual fun parties). Think of all the stories about his attending dinner parties and wedding parties, inviting people and accepting invitations. So much that critics called him “a glutton and a drunkard” (Matthew 11:19).
These fun parties raised political questions, and made people wonder whose side he was on. Sometimes he accepted invitations from Pharisees (Luke 7:36; 14:1) but also visited tax collectors (Luke 19:7). The Pharisees asked the disciples why he ate with tax collectors (Mark 2:16).
Jesus's social circle confused people, too. Notice how the 12 apostles are introduced in the Gospels (see Matthew 10 and Luke 6): “Simon, called Peter, and Andrew his brother; James the son of Zebedee and John his brother; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James the Son of Alphaeus, and Thaddeus; Simon the Zealot, and Judas Iscariot who betrayed him.”
Several are just introduced by name; several by their family identity, but two explicitly by their place in the partisan political disputes of the day: tax collector (working for the Roman occupiers) and zealot (violently opposed to the occupation). Jesus was purposefully and explicitly including people from all sides of the existing political divisions. He was even friends with Samaritans and centurions.
Because of this, Jesus faced political tests. In Matthew 16, the Pharisees and Sadducees came to test him, asking for a sign from heaven. Those parties disagreed over much, but agreed that they needed to pin Jesus down – to force him to identify himself in the political disputes of the day. They wanted to test Jesus because some of His previous signs/miracles had been politically ambiguous:
On the one hand, the times that he fed the five-thousand and later the four-thousand were suggestive of raising an army of rebellion against Rome, gaining loyalty through food. The gospel of Mark even recounts the multitude being separated into companies and squares of hundreds and fifties (Mark 6:39-40). This must have seemed very promising to Zealots and Pharisees hoping for a military revolt, but threatening to the status quo that the tax collectors and Sadducees preferred.
But then, after both these great picnics, Jesus dismissed the crowds and went away (Mark 6:45; 8:9), suggesting that he was not a military but a religious leader. So, the Zealots would have been disappointed and the tax collectors relieved.
In short, the Lord refused to take the tests. His teachings always went beyond political disputes and called people to look at their relationships with other people. When he addressed an audience in Galilee in the Sermon on the Mount, he said, "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor, and hate your enemy.' But I tell you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who mistreat you and persecute you” (Matthew 5:43-44).
Imagine how hard it would be for what must have been a mostly pro-Zealot, Galilean crowd to hear that they should love the enemies who were oppressing them. Maybe even harder than it might be for Americans to be told they should love Donald Trump or Joe Biden.
What can we distill from this? We can still have our groups, identities, and beliefs. We can engage in spirited dialogue about good and bad ways to do things. But we can’t exempt ourselves from the spiritual values of how to engage with and relate to other human beings. It might be difficult to overcome our political/social group identities and the ensuing political resentments, but the formula as outlined in Divine Providence 94 is simple:
“Loving our neighbor as ourselves is simply not dealing dishonestly or unfairly with people, not harboring hatred or burning with revenge against them, not speaking ill of them or slandering them, not committing adultery with their spouses, and not doing anything of that nature to them. Can anyone fail to see that people who do do things like this are not loving their neighbor as themselves? However, people who do not do such things because they are both bad for their neighbor and sins against God treat their neighbor honestly, fairly, cordially, and faithfully.”
This passage also seems relevant:
When charity is absent, people see nothing in their neighbor except evil. If they see anything good in the person, they either dismiss it or put a bad interpretation on it. They want to examine and judge everyone and crave nothing more than to find evil, constantly bent on condemning, punishing, and tormenting.
People governed by charity act in an entirely different way. They hardly even notice evil in another but pay attention instead to everything good and true in the person. When they do find anything evil or false, they put a good interpretation on it. This is a characteristic of all angels — one they acquire from the Lord, who bends everything evil toward good (Arcana Coelestia 1079:2).
