Politics, Exile, Lords, and Thrones
How provocative, political books like Ruth and Ephesians equip us with wisdom and curiosity for loving an Other.
What do we mean when we use the word “political?” How many church leaders have considered how their relationship to power has affected their words and their language?
I have been troubled by the way I’m hearing certain phrases lately in religious spaces and platforms: “Jesus is on the throne,” “God is in control,” and “Jesus is Lord.”1 These statements have been popping up everywhere in the past few weeks, with lots of people weighing in and sharing reflections. Some are cautioning us against using these phrases flippantly:
I wish I were hearing more deliberate, thoughtful, curious conversations about what those phrases mean when people say them, or what hidden assumptions behind those phrases need to be examined, or the complexity of how those phrases intersect with scripture, history, and theology.
Instead, I’m dismayed when those phrases are used to bypass, discourage, or shut down conversations or dialogue — it can feel like an unspoken rule (“don’t ask, don’t tell”). “Jesus is on the throne” can actually be enforced avoidance, meaning “don’t get political here.”2
So it’s always a good idea to define our terms. What do we mean by the word “political,” and how can we tell we mean the same thing in a given conversation with someone else? Here are eight functional definitions of the adjective “political” that I see operating everywhere:
“Partisan” (division or debate over policy)
“Partisan” (division over party loyalty or allegiance)
“Public” (vs. private)
Synonym for “controversial”
Anything that makes someone else uncomfortable
When people at the top of power structures use intrigue, pressure, or favors to manipulate or force their way on others
Anything to do with the running of government
The effects of government policy on people’s lives
What if when one person says “Don’t get political here,” they mean “I don’t think this is the place to talk about partisan/party loyalty,” but the person they’re talking to hears “We refuse to talk about how government policy is affecting your daily life”? Yes, avoidance is better than violence, but the silence of avoidance will always benefit whoever currently holds power and anyone benefiting from the maintenance of that system (which shows how avoidance can be a passive form of violence).3
Recently in my community we finished a short study on the book of Ruth from the Bible, and I have to say, Ruth is a very political book. It is an ancient, brilliant, subversive short story about a young woman and her mother-in-law, both widows, crossing borders as famine refugees in search of food and a future.
The four-chapter book is a journey from empty to full, and in the first line the narrator sets the story “in the time when the judges were judging.” The short narrative is an exploration of faithfulness, and sets itself up as a stark contrast to the disintegration and chaos of the book of Judges. Within the larger canonical witness, Ruth and Judges are in conversation with each other — when everyone in institutional power is corrupt and doing what is right in their own eyes (Judges), look for local faithfulness and participate in local hospitality (Ruth).
Additionally, the text makes it very clear that Ruth is a Moabite. Accompanying her Israelite mother-in-law Naomi back to Bethlehem is risky, since Moabites were emphatically cast as dangerous enemies through much of Israel’s history.4 When the poor alien widow Ruth finds herself gleaning leftovers behind local farmworkers in the fields of Boaz, I wonder what those characters would have thought at first. Were they afraid of her? Disgusted? Did they think she should “go back to where she came from?” Boaz extends straightforward yet extraordinary hospitality towards Ruth. There’s no fear or fuss in Boaz’s character; he is going beyond what is actually required of him within their customs by marrying the immigrant Ruth and providing sanctuary for her and her mother-in-law.
Which surprisingly brings us to Ezra-Nehemiah. Due to some grammatical features that could indicate a later date for the writing of the book of Ruth, some scholars suggest that it was put into its final written form much later than the events it portrays as a response to the marriage crisis described in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah.5 In those two books, some groups of exiles had been allowed to return from Babylon to Judea, and we see evidence of a prolonged community identity crisis — those who stayed vs. those who left and returned, and those who’ve married foreign wives. Both Ezra and Nehemiah force the Jews who have intermarried with women from other groups to divorce those wives and send them away with their children. These texts do not say that God instructed them to do this, and they do not tie up the story neatly but leave the reader with an unfinished, sick feeling.
This stands in sharp contrast with Ruth and underscores why it is a brilliant, political book in the canon — Ruth is caught between the toxic chaos of Judges and the prejudiced tensions of Ezra-Nehemiah and Ruth subversively answers both.
Also, God does not act in the book of Ruth. YHWH is only invoked in spoken dialogue in a handful of blessing phrases and not at all in the prose narrative with any verbs of action. Interestingly, the three mentions of hesed (faithful covenant kindness) in this book are all found in phrases describing the blessings of YHWH, and yet this book is emphatically about the actions of faithful people. This is a book about the agency of women — in a system where they had little to no legal or economic power — and the man who saw their courage and went against expectations to meet them in their faithfulness. The way God’s hesed shows up in the world is through the provocative, courageous actions of people — this is how God works in Ruth.
God works faithfully and courageously through faithful and courageous women and men of God.
As we were wrapping up our study of Ruth, all the texts from the Hebrew scriptures (Old Testament) about welcoming foreigners swirled in my memory, leaving me with an uncomfortable question: why is this so hard for so many people even today, even for people who claim these scriptures as their own?6 This bias even shapes how we handle scriptures about Jesus or the earliest churches — I’m convinced we’ve missed the weight of many New Testament texts by minimizing the complexity of what it meant for Jews and Gentiles to be in intimate fellowship with each other. Which is why I couldn’t get Ephesians 2 out of my mind.
Ephesians 2.11-22 11 So then, remember that at one time you gentiles by birth— called “the uncircumcision” by those who are called “the circumcision” —a circumcision made in the flesh by human hands— 12 remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. 13 But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. 14 For he himself is our peace; in his flesh he has made both into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us, 15 setting aside the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity of the two, thus making peace, 16 and might reconcile both to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. 17 So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near, 18 for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father. 19 So then, you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, 20 built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone; 21 in him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord, 22 in whom you also are built together in the Spirit into a dwelling place for God.
Imagine all the public, political, personal, practical differences among the groups in Ephesus who were struggling to belong to each other and who needed to hear this letter.7 Any text about two or more groups wrestling with their divisions and how to transform their exclusion into inclusion is a political text. Any text pleading with groups who have held each other far away to begin to work for peace so they can grow together into something new (a dwelling place for God!) is a political text. These texts open the door for us to learn the curiosity and wisdom required for loving Others. And yes, of course, we should expect to wrestle with complications.
And complications can be… complicated. Believe it or not, this is not the first time our family has moved to a new place in an election year. In 2004 we had been in Northern Mozambique for just a few months; we arrived there about ten years after the end of their wars of liberation from other countries. They had been colonized by Portugal for over 500 years, and then after that, Mozambique was one of several countries in which the apartheid regime in South Africa had fueled foreign wars to destabilize the region.
Depending on your sources, the death toll in Mozambique was close to 1 million people over a little more than a decade. So about ten years had passed when our ministry team was still discerning which specific town and district to live in, because we were in a pretty vast part of the country. Eventually with prayer and discernment we chose our town/district because it’s the geographical center of the Makua-Metto language dialect.
BUT it was an election year. A few other expats/ foreigners cautioned us and told our team, “You might not want to move there in an election year — it is known for being a place of political fear and suspicion and paranoia,” and they told us some of those stories they’d heard. But it’s hard to know who to trust when you’re new — some of those other expats had already been wrong about some other advice they’d given us — so we went ahead and moved up there.
Within a few weeks, however, rumors started that we were spies with the CIA working with the minority political party to destabilize Mozambique, and within a few more weeks after that we were kicked out of that province. It took over a year to receive permission to return. We were shocked, and it was awful — for most of that time we didn’t even know IF we would receive permission to return, let alone when.
We knew we were innocent — we were only there to work alongside a tiny handful of existing churches to teach and to grow and mentor leaders — the rumors and accusations didn’t make sense to us. But then we remembered that Americans actually had supported the violent destabilization in Mozambique, alongside the South African apartheid regime — some of them even under the guise of being “missionaries.” We had heard about that part of their history, but now we were experiencing in real time the fear and terror and caution that were the consequences of the multinational violence they had experienced.
We spent 13 months in a regional political exile in the next province to the south — that province had no problem with us being there. Several times a month during that time a couple members of our team drove up to other provincial capital to meet with officials there and request permission to return. Eventually the election happened, eventually the new president chose his cabinet and appointed governors, eventually those who had started the rumors locally about us were removed from their jobs, eventually we were given permission to move back into the province, and eventually that region became our home for more than another decade.
The exile was a really difficult time for us — and of course we knew that it wasn’t really about us. We were small potatoes in a region still healing from immense violence. We were continually in grateful awe of how our sponsoring church in Nashville never withdrew support — they were in it with us all the way. I could tell a lot more stories about that season, but one of the ways that this affected the local church is that after the wars in Mozambique, the two sides (both sponsored by outside forces) became the two main political parties. And in the network of churches we worked with, there were people and leaders from both parties — Frelimo and Renamo.8
There are also multiple political parties or persuasions in several churches I know of in the US right now. I know people who voted republican for reasons connected to their faith, I know people who voted democrat for reasons connected to their faith, and I know people who abstained from voting for reasons connected to their faith.
There were also multiple political groups in the first century during the time of Jesus and the earliest churches (Pharisees, Sadducees, Zealots, Essenes, Herodians) who ALL held strong opinions and different ideas about history, economics, power, authority, and allegiance. And they ALL eventually had to deal with the unthinkable — the impending and actual destruction of Jerusalem by the Roman empire a few decades after the death and resurrection of Jesus. The world as they knew it was about to end.
Our strategy about differences in the Body of Christ can’t be one of avoidance due to fear of difficult conversation. A lot of churches and Christians need practice being in covenant with each Other. Like anything in human experience from math to music to motorcycle riding, covenant relationship requires practice. Being a beloved community with each Other requires practice.
I can’t claim to love someone if I don’t really know them. We have to practice loving each Other. We have to practice getting to know each other. I have to practice being curious about someone different from me. I have to practice having compassion for their struggles that don’t affect me.
Unity has to include diversity — if there’s no diversity or difference, then the person talking about “unity” really means uniformity, and we must investigate how power is operating in these conversations. Difference is not the same thing as division, and the subversive, political books of Ruth and Ephesians give me hope that I can learn to love an Other who is really different from me.
Later in Ephesians 4, in an extended reflection on unity, the letter urges honesty with our neighbors, since “we are members of each other.” Honestly and humbly telling the truth is a required ingredient for reconciliation.
Because peace is not the absence of conflict, but the hard learning work of becoming beloved, coming together as one new humanity in the body of Jesus.
He himself is our peace because we come together in his body.
Jews and Gentiles are made one new humanity in the body of Christ. Divinity and humanity come together in the Body of Christ. Frelimo and Renamo, Republican and Democrat, Israeli and Palestinian, communist and capitalist, citizen and immigrant, Israelites and Moabites can learn to become the beloved community to each Other.
Practical Postscript:
I invite you to reflect on how the phrases “Jesus is Lord,” and “God is in control” have been used around you lately and to kindly interrupt any bypassing or avoidant statements you hear with curiosity and clarification. Notice I didn’t say interrupt a person speaking with you, but to interrupt the bypassing or avoidance. In this post I’ve mostly talked about underlying motivations. But loving each other takes practice, and we often need practical advice in order to begin practicing. You’ll find multiple practical resources in the last footnote, but most of these authors and experts recommend two strategies: 1. Become a listener - practice compassionate curiosity as you seek to know the neighbor/other, asking questions only to understand and not to convince. 2. Join up with someone different from you to work together on a needs-based project in your community.9
© Ladye Rachel Howell. All Rights Reserved.
Obviously these catchphrases used to bypass difficult conversations have different meanings. In the first century, “Jesus is Lord” was a political phrase provocatively borrowed from imperial rhetoric, clearly implying “and Caesar is not.” See Richard Horsley’s books Jesus and Empire: The Kingdom of God and the New World Disorder and Paul and Empire: Religion and Power in Roman Imperial Society. The phrase “God is in control” is often dismissive, but some people are unaware that it is only one among several debated options about God’s capacity and character concerning providence and power — which I will write about in another post :)
Depending on the context, announcing phrases like “Jesus is on the throne” can be a form of spiritual bypassing — a defensive reaction using spiritual ideas, practices, or phrases in order to avoid dealing with deeper or more difficult issues or emotions. The concept of “spiritual bypassing” has expanded from the field of psychology into theology and ministry to describe these rhetorical tendencies. For example, when a person in power minimizes the concerns or fears of others with a phrase like “Jesus is Lord,” it can mean that the person saying it has enough privilege to not wrestle with the implications of the other person's struggle. For more on spiritual bypassing, see Gabriela Picciottoa , Jesse Fox, and Félix Neto, “A phenomenology of spiritual bypass: Causes, consequences, and implications” in Journal of Spirituality in Mental Health, 2018, vol.20 n.4, 333-354. See also this podcast episode by Dan Koch on You Have Permission.
Loving each other means paying attention to how government policies will affect the lives of our neighbors, and some “Caesars” are much worse than others. If we say we love our neighbor but vote for someone who will do them harm, we are deceiving ourselves. See Subversive Witness: Scripture’s Call to Leverage Privilege by Dominique DuBois Gilliard, Scandalous Witness: A Little Political Manifesto for Christians by Lee C. Camp, Fortune: How Race Broke My Family and the World — And How to Repair It All by Lisa Sharon Harper, and Jemar Tisby’s Substack about the faithful, ethical witness of the Black Church.
From Genesis 19, through Numbers 22 and 25, to Deuteronomy 23, Moabites are overwhelmingly criticized, condemned, and excluded. Deuteronomy 23 claims that Moabites and their descendants should be excluded from the assembly “up to ten generations,” which makes the genealogy from Ruth to David in fewer than ten generations provocative counter-testimony.
For a discussion on how different grammatical features can contribute to the dating of the text, see Ruth: A Handbook on the Hebrew Text by Robert Holmstedt, p.17-39. See also the introduction to Ruth in the JPS Jewish Study Bible, second edition, p. 1574. See also Introduction to Ruth, The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary by Robert Alter.
See Leviticus 19, Deuteronomy 10, Deuteronomy 27, Psalm 146, and Jeremiah 7 to name just a few. See also Jon D. Levenson “The Universal Horizons of Biblical Particularism,” in Ethnicity and the Bible, ed Mark G. Brett, 143-169.
Some translations insert extra words into Ephesians 2.15 saying “one new humanity in place of the two,” which is not actually found in the Greek. The Greek with its syntax preserved translates to “so that the two he might create in himself into one new humanity.” This is important in undoing any assimilationist tendencies of translation committees — the two becoming one does not have to include any erasure of differences. Requiring or enforcing assimilation or erasure is not unity. See Andrew Rillera’s article "Tertium Genus or Dyadic Unity? Investigating Sociopolitical Salvation in Ephesians."
For more on the history of Mozambique and political turmoil, there are abundant online resources if you search “Apartheid, Destabilization, South Africa, Mozambique.” See also “A place without peace is no place at all”: Violence, fear, and the Paz do Senhor in Mozambique, Howell and Robert Andrew Montgomery in Missiology: An International Review 49, no. 3 (2021): 263-275. https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0091829620986526 . For reflections on how Mozambican church leaders advised outsiders to think about and leverage political rhetoric, see “Loaded Language: Missiological Considerations for Appropriating Political Rhetoric,” Howell and Jessica Markwood in International Journal of Frontier Missiology, vol. 36, no. 2 (Summer 2019), 77-83. https://ijfm.dreamhosters.com/PDFs_IJFM/36_2_PDFs/IJFM_36_2-Howell_and_Markwood.pdf
When I think of resources for practically entering difficult situations with an Other, within scripture I think of what Ananias must have gone through in Acts 9 and what Peter’s experience was like in Acts 10 and 11. Beyond scripture, I hope you take the time to listen to Willie James Jennings’ interview with Onscript. See also Adam Grant’s interview with Denise Hamilton on the Work Life podcast. See also “How to have the hardest conversations” interview with Charles Duhigg on Plain English podcast. See also Love Matters More: How Fighting to be Right Keeps us from Loving Like Jesus by Jared Byas. See Disarming Leviathan: Loving Your Christian Nationalist Neighbor by Caleb Campbell. See also Healing Resistance: A Radically Different Response to Harm by Kazu Haga.