Interview with Brad Anderson on Chosen Nation

In recent weeks, I’ve had the delightful privilege of corresponding with my friend Brad Anderson about his newly released book, Chosen Nation: Scripture, Theopolitics, and the Project of National Identity (see Brad’s brief blog post about the book and about various places to purchase a copy here). Having read an earlier version of the text, I was quite excited when Brad agreed to do an interview about the book via email. While I’m not a great interviewer (this being the first one I’ve ever done), Brad definitely provided some compelling responses that point to just how significant and controversial his subject matter is.

Stephen: Before getting into the content of your book, could you briefly share a bit about the personal circumstances that led you to this particular topic? I recall that you’ve had a bit of a journey in that regard.

Brad: Yeah, you could say that. In high school and as an undergrad, I was the poster boy of American Christian nationalism. Even as a teen, I convinced my fundamentalist pastor to include more patriotic hymns in the services around July 4, even though he was reluctant to mix patriotism with worship (go figure). As an undergrad worked for a time in a Kansas organization affiliated with Focus on the Family, and in my personal writings, I argued that America was divinely endowed with its power and grandeur, and that it needed to act strategically to keep those things intact. Eventually, I went into grad school for national security policy development (I wanted to teach, but also be a national security advisor), but while there was providentially led into a grad-faculty chapter of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship, where I was introduced to the writings of John Howard Yoder, Stanley Hauerwas, and John Milbank, among others. Especially when reading Yoder and Hauerwas, the reality of the lordship of Christ hit me such that over that two-year period (during which 9/11 occurred, by the way), I was significantly changed theologically, politically, and vocationally. I completed the political science MA I was working on, but then went into theology from there on out. While studying for my PhD at Marquette, I took a poli-sci class in comparative nationalism. Discussions of identity, symbol competition, and especially the interweaving of narratives convinced me that that was where my dissertation research lay. This book is a significant reconfiguration and streamlining of the dissertation, but the core argument (and most of the chapters) remain the same.

Stephen: So when you got to this book, you ended up making an argument that is deeply rooted in Scripture. I suspect that there are reasons for that that go beyond the mere fact that it is a book about theology. Why is Scripture especially relevant to the topic of nationalism?

Brad: Scripture is especially relevant to the specific matter of Christian nationalism because in most of its manifestations, Christian nationalism requires the interweaving of the biblical and Christian theological narratives with national narratives of history and myth. This narrative syncretism goes well beyond the simple and natural development of the gospel in given cultures, where there can be very healthy and enriching reciprocal relationships; rather, this is a deliberate move to tie the present nation to scripture as the singular people who are the special instrument of God’s will in the world today. There are examples of this going as far back, some would say, as the eighth century, and can be found in many European and Eurasian contexts (I refer to several examples in the book, such as England and the Dutch Netherlands).

In the American context, this has taken multiple forms. Predominantly, what one sees as far back as the Puritans (a carry-over from both English and Dutch Calvinist contexts), but appropriated in marked ways over the past number of decades, is a particular notion of American election: America–as an extension of biblical Israel–has been specially constituted, shaped, and chosen to be God’s special agent of salvation on a global scale. So you see here not only election, but a particular missiology at work: America must spread its gospel (usually some amalgam of liberal democracy and free-market capitalism, and usually spread through some expression of militarism and redemptive violence) in order to effect the world’s “freedom.” Much of the debate over America’s “Christian heritage” is so heated because this quite cosmic national identity and mission is at stake. Of course, this amounts to a salvation narrative antithetical to the Christian gospel, yet propagated by those who claim faith in and loyalty to the latter. Indeed, I argue that not only does Christian nationalism mistake the present nation as the extension of biblical Israel, but it actually fails to understand what Israel was called to be and do in the first place (i.e., it misreads Scripture). So my engagement with Scripture aims at two things that are very much tied together: (1) to explicate a biblical theopolitics that better understands what Israel was actually called to be and to do (and how it messed up, namely largely through the same realpolitik that Christian nationalism advocates for the US), and (2) that demonstrates how the church (as opposed to any earthly nation or state, yet opened to humanity as a whole) is engrafted onto Israel as an extension of its identity and mission through Christ (both via Christ and as Israel’s identity and mission are transformed in Christ). This helps us clarify the respective roles of church and nation/state as well as the nature of our identity and mission as Christians in a way that redefines our relationships to our respective nations and states of residence. The purpose of this is not to safeguard the church against some external threat, but rather to prompt those who love scripture (or should love scripture) to be more faithful to it.

Stephen: For those readers who haven’t read some of your major influences (such as Yoder, Hauerwas, and Cavanaugh), could you give a short explanation of where you’re coming from when you say that “national identity and mission” is likely to constitute “a salvation narrative antithetical to the Christian gospel?” As you are well aware, your claim there might come as a shock to many Christians in the United States. Also, since your answer obviously can’t provide a complete argument to support that claim, could you recommend one or two accessible sources for people who want an introduction to this issue?

Brad: Sure. I should note first off that Yoder, Hauerwas, and Cavanaugh (the three theologians I survey in the first chapter, and among the most profound theopolitical influences on my own thought) only get so far when it comes to understanding how this works with regard to nation and nationalism; hence the need I’m trying to fill with the book. In a way I believe to be consistent with their work, I understand “theopolitics” to mean that all salvation narratives–stories/explanations of the ways in which humanity needs to be saved from what ails us–entail a politics, an outworking in communal form; conversely, all political communities presume a salvation narrative of some sort. The salvation narrative of Christian nationalism, which I briefly described in the last question, is in many ways antithetical to the orthodox Christian salvation narrative: a gospel of “freedom” in the typical American sense–a negative “freedom-from”–that celebrates individual economic, political, and cultural (not to mention religious/spiritual) autonomy and seeks to safeguard it at the expense of the needs of the Other, versus the Christian gospel that celebrates Christ’s reign through his humility and suffering on behalf of the Other. As I mentioned above, in order to justify such a move, Christian nationalists have to provide sanction or justification via some sort of authoritative source. Typically, this is the use of the biblical narrative to (1) interweave the biblical narrative of Israel and the church with that of American history and myth; (2) justify particular militaristic/capitalistic/nationalistic policies and activities through specific proof-texts of the Bible; or (3) a combination of the above. What results is an almost violently syncretistic narrative that amounts to a new gospel, i.e., a new story of what we suffer and how God saves us.

There are a number of good resources out there for this: Greg Boyd’s Myth of a Christian Nation, Rodney Clapp’s A Peculiar People, and William Cavanaugh’s Theopolitical Imagination, to name just a few. Also, the sixth chapter of my book specifically examines the discourse of various Christian Right organizations, as well as the writings of major leaders in the movement, including D. James Kennedy, Jerry Falwell, and Pat Robertson, as well as the less famous but widely distributed work by Peter Marshall, The Light and the Glory, which is behind much of the crop of “America’s Christian heritage” arguments over the past several decades.

Stephen: So I assume that you know at least a few Christians who identify with what you call Christian nationalism, but who wouldn’t necessarily describe themselves that way. After all, people like D. James Kennedy and David Barton have quite a following out there. If the topic ever arises (as I imagine it might, given that anyone who writes a book is likely to talk about it on occasion), how do you address that sort of disagreement? And how do the demands of Christian community (especially for charity and humility) play into the way that discussions of such a controversial theological issue might go?

Brad: One of the challenges in all of theology, but especially where it intersects with politics, is that I’m dealing with elements of people’s core convictions and identity; it’s so important to be sensitive and careful. So I don’t begin with accusations of idolatry, for instance (especially since I came from the very same place myself). Rather, I start with the biblical narrative, especially since the Bible is so authoritative for very many Christian nationalists, who simply have misread it. Once we figure out who we are called to be as the community of disciples of Jesus Christ, it’s amazing how other things fall into perspective. Starting with Yahweh and Israel, Jesus and the church, I’m able to paint a picture of ecclesial identity and mission that then redefines our relationships with all the other communities in which we reside. So this is not a quick and easy process; it requires patience and genuine conversation. We’re all seeking to be faithful, but we don’t always realize what that entails in terms of our identity, allegiances, etc.

Stephen: Since this term “Christian nationalists” keeps coming up, I think we should back up a bit and see about more exactly defining “nationalism.” How would you give a basic definition?

Brad: I understand nationalism to be a process wherein certain agents are defining and formulating the narrative and meaning of a nation and then propagating that identity among their people for the purpose of garnering some sort of power and institutionalization. So this can range anywhere from movements championing a particular vision of the nation for that vision’s institutionalization in government and society (which I believe is at the heart of today’s American “culture wars”) to a people group seeking (often violently) their own independence, territory, and sovereignty vis-a-vis the country in which they currently reside (e.g., Chechnya).

Stephen: To return to the fact that most people who you consider to be “Christian nationalists” would instead insist that they are only being reasonable or patriotic, how do you see nationalism as a problematic element of the thought of such a person as the late Richard John Neuhaus (who is probably at the most “moderate” end of the spectrum of nationalism)? How exactly, that is, did Neuhaus’s use of a national narrative or identity conflict with his Christian beliefs?

Brad: You’re right that Neuhaus’s nationalism is more thoughtful and subtle than that of many other Christians, and it is interwoven with a more sophisticated theology than most. Yet, in the end, his operates similarly by interweaving the Christian salvation narrative with that of American history and myth, thereby distorting the theopolitics of the gospel. We can see this at both “ends” of his theopolitics, so to speak. First, while he rightly distances America from Israel’s election, he freely uses the biblical covenant model to explain American national identity. At points, this is a vague, general covenant (suggesting a vague, general god); at others, he ties it specifically to Israel. The problem here is that Neuhaus wants covenant without election, which means there is no theological anchor for covenant identity. Covenant can be appropriated however he sees fit.

This is carried into his eschatology, where he states throughout many of his writings that we (Americans) sort of have to trust that we’re following God’s will for our nation, and that there’s no way to know (given that he’s dispensed with election) until the end. We can be optimistic, however. This rather uncritical optimism is then tied to a Niebuhrian realism that states that our time is “Babylon,” an era of realpolitik, essentially, when we have to get our hands dirty and grapple with the powers of our day on their own terms. What he doesn’t seem to recognize in that is the reality of the reign of God in Jesus Christ, a reality that doesn’t wait for the future to be worked out, but is present now, even as the world is still in the process of conforming to it. These then – covenant and eschatology – are the areas through which his American nationalism (which I detail from his writings more specifically in the book) ends up distorting his Christian theology.

Stephen: It’s interesting how you bring up the relationship between covenant and the particularity of election. I would suspect that most Christians want a sense of covenant, a feeling that we have a key part to play in God’s plan for the world. If we aren’t to seek that through national identity, how do we find it? As a preemptive followup (since I’m pretty certain that you’re going to say “the church”), how might you see allegiance to “the reign of God in Jesus Christ” conflicting with involvement in national projects?

Brad: Well, it’s easy to respond to this question with a heavy-handed, black and white answer, and while I’m often tempted in that direction, I think it’s important to be nuanced. First, yes, it is through our incorporation into and participation with the church – the community of disciples of Jesus Christ around the world and throughout time – that we are then engrafted onto the election and covenant given to Israel and fulfilled in Christ. And we are called a “nation” for all that. So no other “national” identity will suffice to carry on the mission of the people of God (even as the fulfillment of that mission helps constitute our identity in Christ’s church); no other identity can prefigure the kingdom of God in the same primary, direct manner, divinely ordained manner. That isn’t to say we have no other identity, however; but rather than simply prioritizing God and country (or “Faith, Family, Freedom” and many Christian right groups do), our identity in Christ and in the church (via the Holy Spirit and in relation to other Christians) redefines all other identities and relationships of belonging, whether they be family, social, class, race, or nation. Those other relationships must be in the service of the primary one, or we risk idolatry. So, since “Christian nationalism” inherently involves the re-narrating of the gospel – and going back to our definition of theopolitics, the remaking of a people, i.e., a new politics – it cannot help but conflict with our allegiance to Christ.

Stephen: So one of your main contentions seems to be that the gospel is inherently political (in the broad sense of the word “political,” at least), hence your advocating a “biblical theopolitics.” Could you give an example of a situation in which the political nature of the gospel would conflict with national political claims?

Brad: Well, of course, anytime we proclaim in worship that Jesus Christ is lord, we’re proclaiming that the state/nation/market is not. Our very worship is political in that basic sense, and as it (1) proclaims a new theopolitical order instituted by an incarnated and crucified God, and (2) helps to constitute a distinctive community, a people. Compare that with the various rituals of worship associated with the nation and state – Independence Day, Memorial Day, Veterans Day (a day that was to commemorate peace but has been turned for most into a celebration of the institution of the military) – some of which happen right in the church. We sing hymns to the nation, as though it were worthy of our praise. We pay homage to the “glorious dead” of war (often with little knowledge or awareness of commemorations like All Saints Day) as though battling violently for the country is for Christians the paragon of discipleship. We thank God for the salvation and new way of life our nation affords us. We interweave our worship with the glorification of the nation or state and prayers for its interests to be secured – indeed, security itself is one of the chief idols these days – entirely losing sight that the “we” who are worshiping belong to quite another people and another sovereign. Our love has been disordered in a very real and significant sense.

This plays out in more “political” situations, too, which theologians have been addressing for decades. If we are truly one people animated by the politics – the Spirit-infused people-building – of the gospel, then how could we possibly war against each other militarily, economically, culturally, etc, as though our Christian solidarity stopped at an arbitrarily designated national border? Or, as I’ll ask certain folks from time to time, how could America possibly be a Christian nation if it required Christians killing other Christians to bring it into being? Does not our identity as constituted by Christ redefine and reconfigure all other identities and relationships? Or, for a more contemporary example, take immigration: do we, as disciples of Jesus Christ, offer hospitality to persons who are theologically our honored guests regardless of their legal standing under the power called the United States, or do we rather identify first with that legal power and define our responsibilities to the immigrant accordingly? These are the types of questions we’re forced to ask ourselves once we recognize the full theopolitical claims of the euangelion of the reign of God in Jesus Christ upon our identities.

Stephen: Thanks, Brad, for taking the time to respond to these questions.