A Cultural History: Background or Baggage?

How difficult is it to describe the political views of the PCA’s younger members? “It’s hard to pin a view to a generation,” says graphic designer Seth Hahne, 34, a member of Aliso Creek Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Mission Viejo, Calif. “I have peers who are so die-hard Republican that it’ll make your head spin. On the other hand, I have peers who are so disgruntled with American politics that they’ve rejected capitalism as a viable model and are stumped by the Church’s love affair with America and capitalism. Then there’s the rest of us.”

To better understand “the rest of us,” briefly consider some history. Depending upon which demographer you read, a majority of today’s thirtysomethings were about to start elementary school when Vietnam ended in 1975. How much this generation made sense of the close of the conflict or national scandals like Watergate is debatable; in any case, more than a few learned what cynical humor and satirical political commentary sounded like from television shows like M.A.S.H. and All in the Family. Couple this with the increasing assault of postmodernism on traditional societal structures like government, family, and marriage, and it’s not hard to understand how an entire generation feels jaded about institutions in general.

“I guess I feel like I can’t make a difference with politics, so why bother taking time to think about it?” says Rob Wootton, 35, an M. Div. student in his final year at Covenant Seminary in St. Louis. “I care about the local church and want to work to see it make a difference in the community and the nation, but that fits with my postmodern idea of grass roots as the way to go because of a mistrust of bigger organizations, be it government, corporations, or denominations.”

A good number of today’s twentysomethings were in or just out of diapers when Jerry Falwell and company aligned their Moral Majority under Ronald Reagan’s administration in the 1980s. When that relationship dissolved in 1989, Pat Robertson built from its ashes the Christian Coalition in America and continued the culture wars both inside and outside the Church, an often-combative initiative that has not gone unnoticed among twentysomethings as par for the Christian course.

“I have the unfortunate feeling,” says soon-to-be-graduate student, Amanda McClendon, 22, and member of Redeemer Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Waco, Texas, “that much of evangelical politics is really more about gaining power and influence than about any real effort at reformation, which has been an issue in Christendom at least since the Crusades. We’re more concerned with making everyone agree with our morality and our rules than [believing] the gospel.”

Finally, and to further complicate matters, those in their 20s and 30s have lived through America’s worship of the new affluence produced by the technology boom of the 1990s, blurring the line between the call of the good life and the call of the gospel.

Take “T” for example, a 30-year-old deacon in a West Coast PCA church, who asked not to be identified. “My Reformed church elders and people I looked up to taught me that wealth is a gift for doing a good job. Then I realized that this isn’t true. I met too many people who work very, very hard and have very, very little. Capitalism can breed a sort of hardness and coldness toward those who are suffering and seems based on the belief that we get what we deserve, that we reap what we sow—a sort of Christian economic karma. Once I realized that economic theories have real world consequences, I became sad and disheartened, mostly about the way the Church has given so much support to this way of thinking.”

Thus, for Generations X and Y, American democracy’s pursuit of “a more perfect union” has been a less-than-perfect chase after something they—like many believers before them—assume will never be achieved this side of heaven. The difference, however, is that these younger generations may not be as apt as their parents or grandparents to be patient with a man-made system of government that shows no real signs of cycling through and correcting itself in their lifetime. Many are not afraid to entertain other possibilities, even raising questions as to whether democracy is really “God’s best” for America, as well as for the rest of the world.
“Basically, I’m all for democracy when it works well,” says Travis Scott, 31, a native of Grand Rapids, Mich., preparing to plant and pastor a Presbyterian church in Auckland, New Zealand, “but why do American Christians seem to think that a democratic republic is the best system of government? I think we tend to assume God’s endorsement on a democratic republic system when we don’t have that written anywhere in Scripture. Is it possible that the Western Christian ideals for politics are founded more on the ideologies of men like John Locke rather than on Jesus Christ?”

Voting: Fighting Through the Frustration

To be sure, not all twenty- and thirtysomethings experience the same levels of tension of living, moving, and having their being in a democratic republic. Justin Johnson, 26, lives in Washington, D.C., where he is a member of Grace Presbyterian Church (PCA) and works full time on Capitol Hill as a legislative assistant. Because of his outlook (as well as his occupation), Johnson’s world involves politics on a daily basis.

“I think the political system we have is severely tainted by sin just like every other system and institution in our lives,” says Johnson, “but I don’t think we should just give up and walk away. Christians have a responsibility to try to work within the system for the good of our neighbors. It’s certainly not easy … but I think giving up and walking away is the absolute wrong thing to do.”

Though not as politically involved day to day, Rebecca Tredway, 29, a stay-at-home mom, freelance writer, and member of Zion Church (PCA) in Lincoln, Neb., agrees with Johnson’s sentiment of responsibility, particularly when it comes to making her voice heard. “I completely disagree with the whole idea of not voting. What are you saying by avoiding the polls entirely? Absolutely nothing. I have chosen to vote in most every primary and major election since I turned 18, though I do feel incredibly dissatisfied with the political scene at the national level.”

Even Acorn—though not voting in national elections as a form of protest—does vote in local ones. “The problem in part lies in the fact that politicians are given an opportunity to make decisions at such large scales on issues like bioethics and economics. It’s not that I think politicians shouldn’t make these decisions, but I think that the wrong politicians are making them. I’d rather see these decisions being made at the county and city level instead of the state and federal. Strong local government and weak federal government seems to necessarily mean less coercion and more freedom for citizens and the communities in which they organize themselves, including the community of the Church.”

This idea of scale is important for many PCA twenty- and thirtysomethings, regardless of party affiliation. Across the board, those interviewed think government is far too big and acknowledge its limitations in playing a positive role—a position in society they understand to be the Church’s and not the state’s. Because a majority of this demographic have come of political age in the midst of two of America’s biggest, most invasive, and (at times) most evasive governments under different Democratic and Republican presidents, few who believe in the mission of their local PCA church consider government’s enormity and influence a good thing, despite particular political leanings.

Political Discussion in the PCA: Too Taboo?

How does political discussion play out in the PCA across the country? If you asked a twenty- or thirtysomething, he or she would probably say, “Very carefully.”

“I had friends at Covenant College who were dogmatic about being Republicans, Democrats, or non-partisan,” says Matthew Tuininga, a 24-year-old seminary student at Westminster Seminary in Escondido, Calif. “Some were idealistic and some were cynical. Some felt Christianity has little to say about public policy and legislation; others felt the entire public agenda should follow explicitly Christian thinking. You meet some folks within the PCA who want our presidents to lead us in prayer and our governments to be explicitly Christian. You meet others who are proudly apathetic about politics and think it has nothing to do with the kingdom of God.”

“My own local PCA church doesn’t discuss politics much,” says Tammy Stevenson, 37, a full-time mother, part-time molecular biologist, and member of New Song Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Salt Lake City, “but on the other hand, I have met people who definitely do not fit the typical Christian-right type of mold.”

Most twenty- and thirtysomethings sense a definite majority of conservative (and ultra-conservative) politics within the PCA, and not all of them are pleased with it, especially when its effects bring tension on Church decisions and relationships.

“I think it’s embarrassing that people can presume the political party I would support simply by looking at the denomination from which I come,” says Hahne. “And really, how healthy is it for some church members to live in fear of other church members for something as trivial as a political perspective?”

“It’s risky to articulate leftward-leaning—or even centrist—political sympathies,” says Darby Whealy, 28, an English and writing instructor and member of Hope Evangelical PCA in Iowa City, Iowa. “I’m rapidly reaching the conclusion that suggesting a different perspective isn’t worth the risk of being labeled or regarded with suspicion. There are exceptions to the rule, of course, so I always maintain the hope that openness to dialogue will come with time.”

Finding Common Holy Ground

With the 2008 election a year away and the nation’s political debate intensifying over the months to come, can the Presbyterian Church in America maintain peace despite increasingly different political views among her members? Many PCA twenty- and thirtysomethings hope so, not necessarily because of their experiences thus far, but rather because of the faith they have in the gospel’s call to the Church.

“Politics do matter because as the kingdom advances on earth, the political landscape will also be redeemed,” says Jeffrey Baumbach, 36, an anesthesiologist in Dothan, Ala., where he also serves as a ruling elder at First Presbyterian Church. “However, this won’t happen if we make politics ‘the point.’ It starts with the Church worshiping and giving thanks, which will gradually change politics and a bunch of other things from the ground up.”

“I’ve come to realize that the political process mainly helps to set the context for the good that needs to be done,” says Joseph Hogue, 31, a human resources manager who worships at Westminster Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Greenwood, Miss., “but we still have to get out there and do the work of sharing and living the gospel of Christ.”

True enough, but to avoid political polarization in the pews while identifying and meeting needs with the gospel, what suggestions would twenty- and thirtysomethings offer the Church as a whole in terms of her relationship with the American body politic?

“What I’d like to see from the PCA,” says Hahne, “is an active distancing in the leadership from several ideas implicit to much of conservative American Christendom: that American national interests coincide inextricably with the church’s international interests; that Republican interests are church interests; that political involvement is our Christian ‘duty’; that a worldly political/economic system is somehow Christian or uniquely compatible with Christianity; that democracy and/or the ‘spread of democracy’ is somehow Christian or uniquely compatible with Christianity; that America is now or ever was a Christian nation.”

Not surprisingly, Acorn wants to apply these sentiments even more locally: “I like to think of politics as an extension of normal Christian life. Not the politics of big government and mass media, but the politics of localized collective action—which is to say participating in the polis. I’m involved in local committees and neighborhood groups. I befriend my neighbors and chat with them about local politics. I discuss politics and political theory on blogs, lists, and forums in hope of helping myself and others think through these many issues.

“Many of my generation are willing to step outside of the left/right political divide and think anew about what it means to live out one’s faith within a physical and increasingly diverse community. When I walked into a local church located in the heart of the city in which I went to school and found a small group of lovely elderly people caring for the poor in the city, feeding them their wonderful home cooking, helping them in whatever way they were able, I thought, ‘Here is a political body that does not consist of empty rhetoric. Here is love of man and love of God.’”

Maybe the gospel can cover the PCA’s expanding political spectrum after all. Rest assured, we’ll see soon enough.

Craig Dunham, 36, is co-author of TwentySomeone: Finding Yourself in a Decade of Transition, and blogs at www.seconddrafts.wordpress.com. Married with four daughters, Craig teaches New Testament and biblical ethics at Westminster Christian Academy in St. Louis. He and his wife, Megan, are members of Memorial Presbyterian Church.