Forty years ago this summer, I sat with a group of friends listening to a then-popular fundamentalist teacher who tried his best to make Romans 13 the only biblical source that should inform a “real Christian” what citizenship means. I’ll save you an afternoon’s worth of rabbit torture and sum it up by saying that, according to this gentleman, a real disciple of Jesus today should suck it up and, with rare exception, go along with whatever the government they live under says.
Open and shut case, right? Not really. The issue of citizenship calls for more thought and prayerful engagement than that. As with the rest of the Scriptures, Romans 13 needs to be considered in its context. Then it needs to be placed in sequence with other New Testament thought, also placed in its context, on what it means for Christians to be citizens of both heaven and earth.
So—just because we can—let’s spend a few moments doing just that.
First of all, consider this broad brush stroke of history: the New Testament was written under the functional Roman monarchs who were called Caesars. The Roman Empire was phasing out its centuries-old practice of general voting, which was limited to male citizens and often only to those living in Rome itself, as the Caesars gained more power. At the very least, that means Christians didn’t have the vote then like they do now. By the time churches were being formed, the overwhelming majority of their members were never really asked to participate in government workings; only to cooperate with them. We have to keep that in mind when we try to apply the teaching of Romans 13, or the rest of New Testament teaching on citizenship, to today’s context. We’re simply not in the same situation. We can not only participate in shaping our government, we have a social contract that encourages us to have a voice in it. We are asked to frame a dialogue so we can advance the common good. Not so in first century Rome.
So back to Romans 13. Paul was speaking in the context where, to him, the Roman government had proven itself to be “God’s servant for… good.” To that point in his public ministry, the Roman government had intervened on Paul’s behalf because Paul unashamedly made claim to his Roman citizenship. And there’s nothing wrong with that. To go further, there’s a lot to applaud about being a contributing citizen in a government that at least tries to further justice for its people. It’s a good idea to behave in that situation.
What Paul writes in Romans 13 simply affirms God’s ultimate control over human government. He does so with the clear assumption that human governments will not be perfect, but that Christians should cooperate with them on the whole.
Still, it was almost inevitable that the Church would need to be reminded that they have the privileges of citizenship in heaven, and that such heavenly citizenship should keep first place in their hearts and conduct. Paul had written to the Romans sometime around A.D. 57. By the time he was writing to the Philippians it was A.D. 61 or so. He had made it to Rome by then, and was writing from either house arrest or from the Mamartine prison (the latter being a series of underground mini-dungeons). Neither situation was where he wanted to be, of course. It’s possible that Paul had lost any remaining starry-eyed perspective he once held about Rome. The emperor Nero seemed obsessed with family and palace intrigue, demonstrating far more concern about his own comfort and entertainment than about the people. He was not the first emperor to perceive Christians as a threat. So it would have been with good reason that Paul, surveying the status of Rome as he wrote to the Philippians, encouraged them with the reminder that “our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Yet that was not the only place life in Rome under Nero would inform Christian teaching about citizenship. The document we recognize as the first letter of Peter to the early church is chock-full of great first century theology. It’s also a very practical survival document for people who were coming to recognize the threat that surrounded them. It was written sometime in the waning years of Nero’s reign – roughly A.D. 64 – 67 – and is probably the first letter written to Christians throughout the Roman Empire as opposed to the letters written to Christians in a specific city. Peter’s letter was a clear appeal for Christians, as much as possible, to exemplify good citizenship. It called for Christians to both understand and live out their faith for the sake of the culture. But even more, it offered breathtaking encouragement for the early church to understand that their very identity was defined in Jesus Christ, and not dictated by the culture that surrounded them.
In a dangerous time when the culture demanded that people treat their faith like politics and to count the politics of Rome as the essence of faith, Peter reminds his audience that the government and its citizens deserve honor – and that only God deserves reverence. He provides a context for citizenship that behaves even as it confesses ultimate loyalty to a higher calling. Peter offers a thorough introduction to what an ethical Christian life looks like in a culture that not only disagrees with your faith but also might be openly hostile toward it.
(And what happens when aligning with an earthly government means betraying God Almighty? That’s what makes the Barmen Declaration from the days leading into World War II so important. In my humble opinion, it’s the closest thing we have to an epistle that was generated in the 20th century. Check it out when you can.)
By the time we get to the last part of the first century and John is writing Revelation, the Roman government is thinly disguised as the very agent of Satan. The Roman culture had intensified its demand that citizens treat their faith like politics, and to count the politics of Rome as the essence of faith – and the early church had learned to expect nothing other from it. Instead of expecting justice from the ruling government, evil is assumed as its very essence. The code for the name of the Antichrist was often worked out by the early church to be “Nero revived” or “Nero returned.” Cooperation with the government system of Revelation 13 meant cooperation with the powers of death. Holding onto faith in Jesus, then – much less living it out – became a subversive activity. Revelation 13 is quite a contrast from Romans 13 as a result.
The social contract of Roman citizenship had changed. Inevitably, the social contract of Christian citizenship also changed. And although there are principles that have and will last for centuries regarding Christian citizenship, especially as outlined in the Scriptures, we will always live in a historical context that demands a thoughtful and relevant application of it.
One thing is clear in all this: in the New Testament, the writers laid out a convincing argument that one’s faith should form one’s approach to citizenship – not the other way around. That leaves a lot of room for discussion and application, as well it should, because we don’t all live in the same place under the same circumstances with the same social contract.
It also leaves no doubt where we should house our identity as the confessing Church, does it?
–Steve Wamberg