Faith Is Not Just Private — It’s Public and Political

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. One of the most common claims I hear in our polarized culture is that religion and politics should never mix. “Faith,” people insist, “is a private matter. Believe what you want in church on Sunday, but leave it out of the public square.” On the surface, this sounds appealing—it promises a kind of peace where religion doesn’t intrude on politics, and politics doesn’t divide churches. But when you look at Jesus and the early Christian movement, the myth that faith is purely private quickly falls apart—so let’s try to break that myth today. Think first about Jesus himself. His teachings were profoundly spiritual, yes—but they were never only spiritual. When Jesus stood in his hometown synagogue and declared the words of Isaiah, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom for the oppressed,” no one heard that as just a private, inward promise. Those words had radical social and political implications. They challenged the unjust economic and political systems of his day. And that’s why, at the end of that very sermon, the congregation drove him out of town and tried to throw him off a cliff! Jesus consistently proclaimed a kingdom—not just an inward feeling of peace, but a new order where the last are first, the hungry are fed, the grieving are comforted, and the powerful are brought low. When he overturned the tables of the money changers in the Temple, that was not a polite sermon illustration—it was a direct, public protest against corruption and exploitation and marginalization. He was executed, not for encouraging people to be more spiritual, but because he was seen as a threat to the political and religious establishment. The early church carried this same vision forward. When Christians declared, “Jesus is Lord,” they were making a political statement every bit as much as a spiritual one. In the Roman Empire, the expected declaration was, “Caesar is Lord.” To say Jesus is Lord meant Caesar was not. That conviction led Christians to resist unjust practices, to care for the poor, to adopt abandoned infants, to refuse to worship the emperor, and to stand against systems of domination—even when it cost them their lives. Now, does this mean Christianity tells you to join one political party or another? Absolutely not. Faith is political in the sense that it shapes how we live together in society. It gives us a vision of justice, peace, and human dignity that transcends partisan labels. The party you choose is more about the methods to get to the ends your faith envisions—and people can certainly have different convictions about what political party is best at getting to those ends. But your faith cannot be reduced to private opinions or personal morality alone. This is why the prophets of the Old Testament spoke so forcefully against kings and rulers who oppressed the poor. It’s why Jesus told parables about unjust judges, corrupt stewards, and rich men who ignored beggars at their gates. It’s why the Book of Revelation dares to picture the empire itself as a beast that must be resisted by those who follow the Lamb. In every age, Christians are called to ask: How does my faith shape the way I treat my neighbor, especially the poor, the marginalized, the stranger, the sick, and the oppressed? What does my commitment to Christ mean for how I use my voice, my money, and my vote? To pretend that faith is purely private is to domesticate the Gospel, to turn it into a self-help program instead of a movement that seeks to transform the world with God’s justice, love, mercy, and peace. So the next time someone tells you, “Faith is private, not political,” remember that Jesus didn’t get crucified for minding his own business. He got crucified because he proclaimed a kingdom that disrupted the unjust powers of his day—and because he invited his followers to live as though that kingdom was already breaking into the world. That’s not a private matter. That’s a public calling. Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today.