^{“You know what, politics is like sex. You always knew that didn’t you?”}

— Tim Keller, “With a Politician” (28:52)

The contents of this article are entirely from Tim Keller’s sermon, “With a Politician.” Link to the listen to the sermon at the end of this article.

Tim Keller, With a Politician

You know what, politics is like sex. You always knew that didn’t you?

Think about this. Back in Luke Chapter 7, do you remember a woman? The woman who was a prostitute? And she gave Jesus the perfume, alabaster, flask around her neck. Remember that?

Because what she was saying is, “I thought spirituality was really all about sexuality. I thought basically sex was what moved the world. But I realize now that sexuality is about spirituality. Actually, I realize now that through my sexual activity, I was trying to get something done that only Jesus can give me. I was trying to get closure. I was trying to get a sense of security and acceptance. In all of my sexuality I thought I was really achieving something that only Jesus can achieve for me.” And therefore, she laid her sexuality down before Jesus’ feet. That didn’t mean now she could never have sex. But she’s never going to make it into that idol. And it’s never going to be the thing that drives her, and it’s never going to be her identity, and she’s never going to be in a sense, a slave to it. Never again.

Now politics is like that.

In what way?

There are an awful lot of people who ask me questions. They say, “come on now, what is your church really about politically.” In other words, the idea is, that really here’s religion but underneath everything is really politics.

No.

No.

Here’s politics and underneath everything is really religion. In politics, if you do not know the Lord Jesus Christ, you’re going to try to get things done in politics that only God can do. You’re going to want to have a sense of impact. You’re going to want to have a sense of significance. You want to have a sense of mission. You want to say, “I can change the world. I can really change the world.”

Politics can only change so much.

And if you turn politics into an idol, you’ll turn to something. If you’re a conservative, you’ll make a god out of the market. If you’re a liberal, you’ll make a god out of the state. And what you’ll do is, you’ll say that is the answer to all the problems. And you will, just like, in a sense, the woman used sex to do something that only God can give her, closure, so you can use politics to get something only God can give you: which is mission, impact, change the world!

You can only do that through God.

Get involved in politics. But first, like the woman laid down her alabaster perfume, Pilate should have laid down his scepter. Think about it, Jesus could have given it back! Jesus wouldn’t have said, “well, you’re a Christian now, you can’t be involved in politics.” Oh no. Finally, finally, finally.

Pilate would have finally not been such the screw-up that he was in politics, frankly.

Now in what way then though is Jesus political? You see, on the one hand, Jesus didn’t say, “yes, I’m political.” Because he had to show that he’s not, and that he doesn’t bring you a political program, and that to become a Christian you do not first decide where are the politics going. You must not do that! Otherwise he’s not the king, you see!

But on the other hand. Ahh, on the other hand, the reason he didn’t say, “no, I’m not political.” He didn’t yes, but he didn’t say no. Why? Because in the end, what Jesus Christ does to you, changes every part of your life. Absolutely. You see?

If you want to know how that works, in a very sly way, Luke is not only showing us that he’s not political because Herod and Pilate say he’s not. And that’s Luke’s way of saying Jesus is not, basically, a political person at all. He didn’t come like that. He didn’t come to do that. So don’t think that basically Christianity is all about politics.

But on the other hand, there’s a third politician. Did you know there’s a third political operative in this story? There’s a third one. You say well ok, there’s Pilate, Herod…where’s the third political operative?

It’s Barabbas.

Oh yea. There was a real revolutionary, and he was in prison. And it was the custom at the Passover, you know, to free a prisoner. And so even though Luke doesn’t tell us, the other three gospels tell us that it was Pilate’s idea. Pilate comes and says, “You know, I don’t really want to have to kill this man, so I’ll tell you what: I’ll give you a choice. You want me to convict him, but let’s free a prisoner. What shall it be? Jesus or Barabbas? Barabbas was a real revolutionary. In other words, Barabbas was in jail for really doing the things that Jesus was about to be punished for. And of course, Pilate was a little upset and didn’t realize it backfired because….Pilate puts in front of them two Jesuses.

Did you know that Barabbas’s name was Jesus? Do you know the name Barabbas means “son of the father?” And so you have in front of us, two sons of the father, we have in front of us two Jesuses.

Pilate says which one do you want? And of course, the world says, give us Barabbas.

Why?

What Luke is trying to say is, Jesus, in one way, is a revolutionary. A very different kind of revolutionary. A very different kind.

You see on the one hand, the story of Barabbas and Jesus is brought out because Barabbas is you and me. When Jesus Christ is killed for the very sins that Barabbas is guilty of, and Barabbas is freed, what have you got a picture of?

Do you not see it?

Don’t you know an insult when you see it?

The Gospel writer Luke is trying to say we’re Barabbas. Can you imagine Barabbas? Barabbas is in prison and he’s getting ready to be crucified, and he’s thinking about the suffocation, and he’s thinking about the nails in the hands. And then he hears a crowd outside crying “crucify him, crucify him.” And he’s thinking, “oh my gosh, it’s going to be any minute.” And then he hears the soldiers come in, and open the day, and he says, “oh my gosh, here it’s going to be.”

And the soldiers say, you’re free.

And Barabbas would say, “how can I be free”?

And the soldiers, you know, being very gruff [and stupid] say “oh here, come on.” And he takes him out…and he shows him.

What’s Barabbas going to say? “Wait a minute, that’s my cross, he’s bearing. Those are my nails he’s receiving, in his hands. And that is my death he’s dying. He’s the only person in history that can actually literally say that. And I am breathing his fresh air. And I am released.”

You see that word in the end? He released. He released, Barabbas.

That is the Gospel.

God made him who knew no sin to be sin that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

Do you know why Jesus was not saying anything? Do you know why Jesus was letting them beat him?

Because Jesus Christ was taking our punishment. He was acting the way a guilty person should act. He was being true to us. He was being faithful to us. And, if you take that in, if you take that all the way in. If you know, that you are now – don’t you see what’s so interesting, Jesus didn’t just die for you so your sins are forgiven in a general way – what you have is what the theologians here, in the picture of Jesus and Barabbas, call double imputation. Double imputation!

It’s not just that Jesus died so your sins go to him. But his freedom comes to you. His righteousness comes to you. You are now treated as if you never did these things. God now accepts you and loves you as you are.

That’s revolutionary. Absolutely revolutionary.

Why?

Because, do you know what it means now?

It means your identity…

Your real wealth isn’t….

Your real citizenship isn’t…

Your race.

Your ethnicity.

Your culture.

Your class status.

None of those things are as important now as what Jesus is to you. And that means your whole attitude toward your politics, toward your culture, toward your class, has all been changed. And you’re free to go, wherever you can do the most good.

You don’t have to fight. You’re not bitter all the time. Because your identity isn’t your race, it’s not your class, it’s Jesus. It’s not your wealth, it’s not your career, it’s Jesus.

You suddenly are radically changed, radically freed in every way. Your attitude toward everything. He is incredibly political.

And let me close with this. Tom Skinner, African American pastor who lived in New York and died not too long ago. He preached a sermon at Urbana Missionary Conference, in Urbana, Illinois in 1970. I didn’t make it, but I got the tape, and a number of my friends went. I was a brand new Christian. And I could not listen to this sermon enough.

You know, we’re about to take missions offering at the end of this sermon, at the end of this service.

Why?

Because we believe that the best way to change the world is to fill it with the Gospel of the grace of Jesus Christ. And there is nothing more revolutionary, and politically revolutionary in the end than that.

^{“Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.}

— Jesus, from Luke 6: 37 – 38 (ESV)

^{“Yea, right. I’m out of here.”}

— The author, from marriage counseling (circa 2013)

A plug for marriage counseling

My wife and I have been seeing a marriage counselor over the last several years. It’s turned out to be one of the best decisions we’ve made as a couple. Even today, as we’ve smoothed out some rough edges, it’s still something we’ll continue to do.

It wasn’t always that way though.

False start, on the offense…

We first tried our hand at counseling around 7 years ago. My wife had just finished a grueling period of professional training working 70 – 80 hours a week, in which we were rarely able to connect. We had survived, but had definitely not established healthy patterns for marriage. We knew we needed help to hit the reset button, so even though it felt “weird” (embarassing), we went to see a counselor.

We made it about two sessions together before I bailed and refused to go back.

The reason? I decided I didn’t respect the intellectual integrity of the counselor. She insisted that no matter what my wife and I each thought individually about our problems, we both needed to be willing to share the blame for them equally. I was ready to share some of the blame, but definitely not the 50 / 50 split that she advocated. Based on an objective review of “The Facts,” I was convinced that an impartial jury would saddle me with no more than 20% of the blame. I’d willingly own up to my mistakes, but only if the chief offender who slept on the other side of our bed would admit to the 80% that was clearly, clearly her fault. In my view, all I wanted was to pursue the truth with objectivity, and use those “facts” as the logical springboard into the rest of the conversation. I told the counselor as much, and (shockingly!) she did not agree. So I decided I didn’t respect her process and that wouldn’t waste my time with it any longer.

The truth

The reality was I was too angry, hurt, and proud to wipe the slate clean for a fresh start with my wife. I couldn’t give up the things that I *knew* to be true, including the presumption that I was already most of the way right on my own.  I quit when my presumptions were challenged and instead, missed far more important truths. One of the important truths I missed was that a relationship requires grace and unconditional love in order to grow. And those were two things I lacked as a person.

____________________________________________________

In a way, some of the same dynamics that plagued our marriage are at work today with Christians and politics.

Self delusion

I would have said (and did say) that our marriage was of the utmost importance to me, and that my thoughts about marriage were grounded in what God has outlined in the Bible. But my actions betrayed my true beliefs: my pride, wounds, resentments, and need for justification came first. In the same way, as Christians we say that we will have no other gods before God, but we can make idols of our political beliefs. Even worse, we often intermix our political affiliation with our faith. Our priorities are upside down.

We cling to what we “know” to be true in our beliefs, but miss what we don’t know, unwilling to truly listen to another perspective that challenges our political beliefs and our hearts.

When forced to confront difficult conversations that could actually challenge us and grow us, we often quit, preferring to wait for another opportunity with a more sympathetic audience that will echo our preexisting notions.

Even when we are willing to admit to being imperfect, we are much better at finding the imperfections in others than in ourselves. We read Luke 6: 41 – 42 and imagine that it doesn’t apply to us in the same way. We somehow think Jesus would have recognized that we have only a bit of sawdust in our eyes, and that those we rail against in our social media comments are the ones with the planks.

While I hope most of us are not as blind as me, we act self righteously as we forget about extending grace and seek to justify ourselves in our own minds and before others. In the process we erode our witness as Christians and all too often seek to make God into a deity of our imagination, rather than humbling ourselves so that we can be remade in the image of Jesus.

Can we agree?

As Christians, the first and greatest command is to love God with all our heart and soul and mind. I believe this means that it’s possible to be a Christian who also happens to be a Republican, or to be a Christian who also happens to vote differently.

If Jesus were alive today, he would almost certainly not be a member of either of the two main political parties in the United States. Political conventions on both sides of the aisle would likely both love to have him speak on certain topics, and would cringe at his perspective on others.  In his day, Jesus transcended politics and power and constantly subverted expectations. He rejected the earthly power of the Pharisees and made it clear that his kingdom was not founded on political structures. He was the conquering king who chose to ride into Jerusalem on a lowly donkey instead of a thundering warhorse. The miracle worker who chose to give his life rather than to save himself.

He dreamt that the whole world was condemned to a terrible new strange plague…Some new sorts of microbes were attacking the bodies of men…

Men attacked by them became at once mad and furious. But never had men considered themselves so intellectual and so completely in possession of the truth as these sufferers, never had they considered their decisions, their scientific conclusions, their moral convictions so infallible.

— Raskolnikov’s dream, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Raskolnikov in Prison

Towards the end of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, the protagonist Raskolnikov is in Siberia after his conviction and has disturbing dreams while recovering from illness in a prison hospital.

Raskolnikov is a convicted murderer. He had developed his “extraordinary man” theory, which he believed gave him license to act as though everyone else was expendable, while he was free to act as a superior being. Acting on his theory ended with murder and prison, the place he eventually began to see things in a new light.

The Dream

He was in the hospital from the middle of Lent till after Easter. When he was better, he remembered the dreams he had while he was feverish and delirious. He dreamt that the whole world was condemned to a terrible new strange plague that had come to Europe from the depths of Asia. All were destroyed except a very few chosen. Some new sorts of microbes were attacking the bodies of men, but these microbes were endowed with intelligence and will. Men attacked by them became at once mad and furious. But never had men considered themselves so intellectual and so completely in possession of the truth as these sufferers, never had they considered their decisions, their scientific conclusions, their moral convictions so infallible. Whole villages, whole towns and peoples went mad from the infection. All were excited and did not understand one another. Each thought that he alone had the truth and was wretched looking at the others, beat himself on the breast, wept, and wrung his hands. They did not know how to judge and could not agree on what to consider evil and what good; they did not whom to blame, who to justify. Men killed each other in a sort of senseless spite. They gathered together in armies against one another, but even on the march the armies would begin attacking each other, the ranks would be broken and the soldiers would fall on each other, stabbing and cutting, biting and devouring each other. The alarm bell was ringing all day long in the towns; men rushed together, but why they were summoned and who was summoning them no one knew. The most ordinary trades were abandoned, because everyone proposed his own ideas, his own improvements, and they could not agree. The land too was abandoned. Men met in groups, agreed on something, swore to keep together, but at once began on something quite different from what they had proposed. They accused one another, fought and killed each other. There were conflagrations and famine. All men and all things were involved in destruction. The plague spread and moved further and further

What happens when we all know we’re right?

As every person argues for their own perspective, utterly convinced of their own rightness, the world crumbles. When we believe that everyone else is wrong, society loses its ability to distinguish between good and evil and doesn’t know what is worthy of honor and what is worthy of blame. Since all believe they are intellectually and morally superior, they are therefore justified in fighting all the more feverishly for their convictions.

While today we may not be literally killing each in senseless spite, many of us Christians are guilty of virtual murder. Who has not felt tempted towards anger, disdain, or outright contempt when talking about (or typing about) the legitimacy of impeachment or the reliability of the national media or the reasons for the gulf between rich and poor or testing procedures and mask policies for coronavirus?

What if we are wrong when we believe that we alone have the truth? And how can we all be right when professing Christians have such strongly divergent views on the subject? We are all at risk of going mad from the same infection.

The Extraordinary Man (and Woman) Theory

Rasknolnikov is in prison for the murder of an old pawnbroker and her assistant. He’s in prison because he had a theory about the world that he called the extraordinary man theory, and he tried to put that theory into practice with his crime. Raskolnikov’s theory is quite similar to Nietzche’s later Ubermensch theory, that divides the people of the world into two classes. There are the regular people and there are the “extraordinary” or “super” among us, who can set their own rules in their pursuit of greatness. For the Ubermensch, the ends always justify the means.

The practical problem, of course, arises as it does in Rasknolnikov’s dream. When we all believe that we alone have access to the truth there is only disorder and hatred and chaos. The deeper problem is that on some level we all have hearts that crave justification.

Why?

We are proud and broken people. Even those of us who call upon the name of Jesus have proud, stubborn hearts that are desperately seeking justification, identity, and security through our own efforts, abilities, and achievements. That’s why we can still manage to sin even after coming to faith and it’s why we desperately need him. Without perpetual renewal, we will tend to convince ourselves that we are extraordinary. We will be just like God’s chosen people who, despite miraculous provision and supernatural guidance, were often described as a “stubborn and stiff-necked people” with hard hearts.

What’s My Problem?

I have a proud heart that left to its own devices will make me into a world class Pharisee. The particular brand of Pharisee has evolved throughout life. While my beliefs have changed, what hasn’t changed is that underlying each of those phases was an ironclad assurance of my own “rightness” and a feeling of superiority to all others who weren’t enlightened enough to share my views.

And I still have plenty of blind spots today. But I’ve begun to see a common thread: there is pride at the center of nearly all of it.