In the wake of the recent abortion debate in Tasmania’s Lower House of Parliament I’ve been wrestling. It is not a wavering in my resolve, or a shift in my point of view. After all, the way in which we as a society value (or otherwise) and protect (or otherwise) the most vulnerable is of fundamental importance. And I remain incredulous that those who are promoting the current bill are so incapable of articulating the simple fact that unborn children have innate value. Those who would give legal recognition to all manner of things pursuant to environmental or libertine causes, give no recognition of a child before the law, (note how the Green’s candidate for Nelson gives assurances about late-term abortion on the grounds of the mother’s health – the child’s interests are simply not a factor), except when it’s politically correct to do so (like it was for the Tasmanian Greens in 2010).
The wrestle is this: what to do about it? And, in particular, in what manner should the church and Christians collectively respond to this issue? We want to be both correct, and also right – acting truthfully, constructively, lovingly, righteously…. godly?
For the sake of discussion let me consider two broad options.
As a first option, we could take an approach that is politically passive or, at least, politically impartial.
By this approach we present reasoned and reasonable arguments, do our best to make ourselves understood, and entrust our elected leaders to be reasonable people. This is a good approach. But the problem of this sort of political pacifism is: What if they don’t listen? What if they are not reasonable?
And that is exactly what we are facing.
My concern here is not about agreement or disagreement. But it should be the case that a point of view, even if it is eventually disagreed with, be given a place for articulation, and be responded to in a manner that demonstrates that the principles have been understood and weighed. The processes embraced by the likes of Lara Giddings, Nick McKim and Michelle O’Byrne has been the antithesis of this.
We have now seen, as a point of fact, how Giddings/McKim/O’Byrne do things: Private Members Bills instead of scrutinised government business, “discussion papers” that are one-sided polemics, rushed “consultation periods” with no requirement for the submissions to be considered or reported on, dismissive oratory that prejudicially invalidates opposing views, and emotive skewing of the debate towards minor wedge issues and ad hominem.
All this is a demonstration of unreasonableness and an unwillingness to listen. If they cannot be reasoned with, what else can be done…?
Another approach is to demonstrate popular support for a point of view. Surely if they won’t listen to argument they will listen to feet on the streets or emails in the inbox or signatures on the petition?
But this is also not the case. Again, the concern is not about disagreement – I wouldn’t want a government to be driven by rank populism – but it is about respect. In the recent debate the ratio of those publicly active was at least in the order of 3 to 1 towards being against the bill. Giddings/McKim/O’Byrne responded with occasional disdain, but in general remained not only unmoved but disinterested.
It seems they have an unwillingness to take pause, consider, and indicate to the people that their presence and their voice has been heeded, even if it is ultimately rejected. There has not been a demonstration of true leadership, no attempt to swing the consensus, no attempt to make the case, no attempt to address the populace or even to attempt to persuade. There is only distanced belligerence which is more the stuff of student politics, not adult discourse.
Popular expression has been disregarded. So what else can be done…?

Some women have posted this on their facebook. Is it time for this?
Is it time to turn to the other option – political activism, even militancy?
After all, it can be done. And it is not necessarily a wrong thing to do.
We could, for instance, start picking on politicians. Calling them out and threatening them with electoral repercussions. This is what “Marriage Equality” activists have done in the current Legislative Council elections. Why shouldn’t we do the same? Why shouldn’t we send a message that the imposition of ideology is a Yes-Ministerly “courageous” thing to do?
We could, for instance, raise money, organise letter-box campaigns, and generally get all “GetUp” on people. If we could stomach it, of course.

At least half a million protest against gay marriage in France. Source: Reuters
We could, for instance, start a protest party and ramp it up so that its brand is equally as recognisable and as “40%” and so send a message at the next election.
We could, for instance, do what the French have done over gay marriage and take to the streets. And not just silently and prayerfully as the recent silent vigils were but noisily and angrily. We might even be willing to be arrested. After all, isn’t this our time to lie in front of a figurative bulldozer or two?
We could do a lot of things.
But should we?
I admit to being conflicted. None of these sort of suggestions are necessarily bad – depending on how they are executed of course. Civil disobedience is not necessarily an evil and it is sometimes warranted. Without a few good people doing something, and being noisy about it, the space for evil and tyranny to flourish exists.
Bonhoeffer famously stated that, “We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice, we are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself.” But when do we know that it is time to ram home that spoke?
My wrestling continues, and I would appreciate some pushback and thoughts in the comments below.
But my deliberations have brought me to a certain point: and that is to dispense with the dichotomy of politically pacifist / politically activist. It is the wrong framework. Rather, the response of the Christian citizen (or any citizen for that manner) can and should be guided by a continuum of engagement.
In theological terms it is an engagement that is inherently missional. As Christians we recognise the authority of Christ and his way of life and peace and justice. As Jesus command his disciples in Matthew 28, all authority has been given to him and so we are to go and make disciples of all nations, baptising (or “saturating”) them in and with the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. We are to lead and disciple our nation, and that includes our government, with the ways of Christ. If we consider Paul’s treatment of government in Romans 13:1-7 – which acknowledges a derivative authority attached to the purposes of rendering justice and managing the common welfare – we have a particular application for how we act politically. We are to call the government to be a good government, rendering justice and promoting welfare.
And the means for this are manifold for the Christian community:
Firstly we pray. It’s not for no reason that Paul writes to Timothy: “I urge, then, first of all, that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.”
Everything else falls out of prayer. Not only is prayer effective simply in its nature as intercession; it also moves and affects those who do the praying. In prayer our heart for justice and welfare is strengthened. Our yearning for peace is increased. And we seek for our attitude towards the intransigent and powerful to be tempered or inflamed in accordance with God’s wisdom.
The object of this activity is God. It is an act of faith, an act of trust.
Secondly we are to demonstrate within ourselves the justice and welfare that we are calling the government to exercise. This simply means to demonstrate what a gospel-centred community looks like. A favourite example of this for me is the description of the distinctives of the Christian Community in the 2nd Century letter to Diognetus. Consider this from chapter 5 of that epistle:
5:6 They marry like all other men and they beget children; but they do not cast away their offspring.
5:7 They have their meals in common, but not their wives.
5:8 They find themselves in the flesh, and yet they live not after the flesh.
5:9 Their existence is on earth, but their citizenship is in heaven.
5:10 They obey the established laws, and they surpass the laws in their own lives.
5:11 They love all men, and they are persecuted by all.
5:12 They are ignored, and yet they are condemned. They are put to death, and yet they are endued with life.
5:13 They are in beggary, and yet they make many rich. They are in want of all things, and yet they abound in all things.
5:14 They are dishonoured, and yet they are glorified in their dishonour. They are evil spoken of, and yet they are vindicated.
5:15 They are reviled, and they bless; they are insulted, and they respect.
5:16 Doing good they are punished as evil-doers; being punished they rejoice, as if they were thereby
quickened by life.
5:17 War is waged against them as aliens by the Jews, and persecution is carried on against them by the Greeks, and yet those that hate them cannot tell the reason of their hostility.
This includes caring for those who have fallen under the wheels of state.
The object of this action is the poor, weak and broken.
Thirdly we engage as citizens. We are interested in society, we do not withdraw. We put forward our case reasonably and carefully. We exercise our democratic rights. We attempt to convey our philosophy as well as our conclusions. We attempt to understand different views and, when we disagree, to do so with respectful consideration for the principles.
In short, we speak. Sometimes we do this by standing silently on parliament lawns.
The object of this action is each other and our fellow citizens and their representatives.
Fourthly when necessary, we hold to account. The where and when of this requires wisdom and discernment. We surely encourage the exercise of the democratic electoral power of the populace. We may occasionally rebuke. We may even sometimes stand firm against the impositions of others – exercising civil disobedience, boycotts or other actions if and when it is appropriate.
The object of this action is the tyrannical powerful and those who have exercised their power negligently, ineffectively or unwisely.
In general, the point is this: One form of action cannot be done without the preceding forms of action having been performed, and continuing to be performed. That is to say: Everything requires prayer. It is also to say: to speak about justice we must have first demonstrated justice in our midst, and continue to demonstrate it. It is also to say: we cannot hold others to account until we have first prayed, acted, reasoned, and dialogued.
It may or may not be the time for the Christians in Tasmania to cross a line of activism. I’m still thinking about that.
But one thing is for sure – we MUST keep on praying, we must look to the health of our own communities, we must continue to articulate our reasons with love and care and courage. Without these things any further action is likely to be ill-advised and wrongly motivated. In fact, without these things our actions are likely to puff us up rather than achieve the culture of life for which we yearn.
In the end we must realise that our problem is not with Lara Giddings, or Nick McKim, or Michelle O’Byrne as persons. My conclusion has saddened me, that as officeholders they are shallow, blind and hardened to the things that make for compassion, life, peace and care. But no amount of activism will undo that, certainly not the level of argument or persuasion that I can muster.
All my activity, whether it be political or anything else, is nothing unless it is in tune with the real authority: the God who applies justice and true judgement, as the psalmist writes:
12 Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand, O God.
Do not forget the helpless.
13 Why does the wicked man revile God?
Why does he say to himself,
“He won’t call me to account”?
14 But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted;
you consider their grief and take it in hand.
The victims commit themselves to you;
you are the helper of the fatherless…
17 You, Lord, hear the desire of the afflicted;
you encourage them, and you listen to their cry,
18 defending the fatherless and the oppressed,
so that mere earthly mortals
will never again strike terror.
(Psalm 10 NIV)
PS. Yes, yes, there’s an election on. So in case I have to (its hard to tell when the Electoral Act kicks in) this post and all its content is authorised by me, Will Briggs, of Kingston, Tasmania.
PPS. Fist photo credit: http://www.sxc.hu/browse.phtml?f=view&id=855384