Hugo Schwyzer

While we were away, the IRS issued an odd ruling in the All Saints Pasadena controversy. For more on the current state of the controversy, see Auguste’s post at Pandagon.

After an investigation of nearly three years, the IRS has decided not to suspend my former parish’s tax-exempt status over a sermon preached by rector-emeritus George Regas just before the November 2004 election. The IRS continues to maintain that the original sermon was inappropriate and amounted to “improper interference” in the election; thus, All Saints is off the hook with the government but still has no clarity about what is and what is not permissible from the pulpit. To make matters worse, there is some evidence of inappropriate collusion between the Bush justice department and the IRS, reported by the Times here.

I’m troubled by the allegations of justice department interference with the IRS investigation. That seems nakedly partisan, and it certainly warrants an inquiry of its own. But as the only blogger in the country who was present for Regas’ original sermon (I blogged about it very critically the next day), I agree completely with the agency’s conclusion that Regas’ sermon did amount to intervention in the presidential race. I’m relieved that All Saints is off the hook with the IRS. I may have left the parish after many years of loyal service to its youth group, but I still have genuine affection for many folks who worship there and for the church’s overall mission. All Saints does a lot of good, and it will continue to do so. It can do that good much more easily as a tax-exempt organization.

But Regas’ 2004 sermon was, as I wrote at the time, filled with appalling self-righteousness and indefensible certainty about how Jesus would want us to vote. I’ve spent time in right-wing fundamentalist churches, and until I came to All Saints, would have told you that “liberal fundamentalism” was an oxymoron. The heart of fundamentalism, however, is not reactionary politics. The heart of fundamentalism is certainty, a certainty that brooks no doubt or counter-argument, a certainty that flashes into self-righteous anger or sneering superiority the moment it is challenged. And the Regas sermon (complete with all the rhetorical flourish that a transcript cannot capture) was liberal fundamentalism at its self-satisfied worst: it made it clear that Jesus would want his followers to vote for John Kerry. If the sermon honored the letter of the IRS law on tax-exempt organizations, it violated the spirit in a gross and obvious way. I stand by what I wrote in 2004:

Both liberal and conservative Christians are too enamored of the power of the secular state to transform the hearts and minds and lives of its citizens and the citizens of the world. Yes, the moral character of the ruler matters. Yes, the policies of the state matter — and good Christians can differ in good conscience as to what those policies ought to be. But the God I worship had little time for great leaders when he walked the earth. Jesus was political, yes — but His politics were far more radical than anything any modern politician could possibly espouse. To claim Jesus’ endorsement for any party, any candidate, is unbiblical and profoundly offensive.

Those who defended All Saints were right that a double standard was clearly in place; many conservative churches regularly distribute “voting guides” to their congregants that clearly urge a vote for Republican candidates. That’s wrong as well, and I am angry by the apparent inconsistency of the investigation. Regas may be a fundamentalist of the left who stepped right up to (if not over) the line; there are even more fundamentalists of the right who regularly cross that line. It’s not unreasonable to ask for some consistency from the IRS, the Justice Department, and the courts.

Since I’m so critical of both left and right, do I think that the broader church should withdraw from the public sphere? Of course not. The church ought to be political, but it ought to embody the politics of Jesus rather than the politics of party. Last time I read my gospel, Jesus was not interested in forming a political movement to overthrow Caesar or Herod Antipas; he didn’t lobby Rome for a replacement for Pontius Pilate. Jesus wanted justice, radical justice — and nothing He ever said could possibly be construed as an endorsement of the idea that the State was primarily responsible for providing that justice. Changing the Caesar was not then and ought not be now the role of the church. It matters little that today’s aspiring Caesars are Christians; once in office, their loyalties to the state almost invariably trump their religious convictions.

I do care who wins elections. I do participate in voting, but I vote as a citizen of the United States, not as a Christian. My Christian obligations cross borders and have nothing to do with the passports I hold. As an American, I vote my conscience on issues like, say school funding and the capital gains tax. I have no idea whatsoever how Jesus feels about issues such as charter schools or relations with North Korea, and I’d reject categorically the appropriation of His name by any side in the discussion of these issues. Yes, Jesus was in favor of peace; yes, he asked us to “turn the other cheek.” But good Christians can disagree about how it is we are to live out that call to peace, and we can disagree as well as to whether the sanctions on our personal behavior are also binding on nation-states. And when any pastor implies that Jesus supports one candidate more than another in an upcoming election, that pastor not only violates IRS code, he or she misleads the congregation into believing that lasting, enduring global transformation will be accomplished by the princes of this world.