In this solo episode of the Christianity Without Compromise podcast, host Jake Doberenz argues his opinion that Christians need to be very weary about how and if we engage in politics. In Christ, are called to a different way of being.
This isn’t about left or right, red or blue. It’s about allegiance. And whether the way of Jesus is compatible with the powers of this world. Spoiler: I don’t think it is.
The first presidential election I could vote in was 2016. 2020 was my second. 2024 my third. Three elections that were, to say the least, interesting. But long before I could vote, I was pretty politically involved. I worked with a county-based political organization, headed a political party club at school, and was voted Most Likely to be a Politician in my high school leadership class.
But I’ve concluded that it’s time for an retirement from politics. After much study and contemplation and tracing the dots from the teachings of Christ I’ve heard since childhood, I’ve reached a point where I believe Christians need to radically rethink how we participate in government and politics.
My convictions tell me that we’ve put too much hope in the ability of politics to accomplish the mission of God. And I want to be clear—it’s not just because we’ve been fed terrible candidates, some of the worst people you could imagine and people way past their prime. Even with far better candidates, I just can’t square away my Christian ethics with any allegiance to a nation-state.
In recent years, my political theology has been shaped by a mix of voices: Stanley Hauerwas, some of the best work in the Anabaptist tradition, a dose of classic Church of Christ theology from David Lipscomb, a good helping of Liberation Theology, and even the Reformed public theology tradition through Abraham Kuyper.
But perhaps the most significant influence on my view of politics is my commitment to complete nonviolence—which, historically, was the position of the early church and, I believe, the way set forth by Jesus. That commitment has made me take a long hard look at what governments actually do, what power actually looks like, and what the Kingdom of God actually requires of us.
Most importantly, my views have been shaped by a robust biblical theology—a literal verse-by-verse study of how Scripture views government and how the New Testament paints the Kingdom of God and the kinship of believers.
I’m at a place now where I can’t justify most kinds of political engagement. Government is part of our fallen world. At best, it’s dicey and dangerous for Christians to engage with. I agree with Winston Churchill, who said, “Democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried.” I’m not quite an anarchist—I believe God can and does use political powers for various purposes, as seen in the prophets and in Romans 13.
But using something and endorsing something are two different things.
After Israel served its purpose as a nation to bring forth the Messiah, God reinvents “Israel” not as a geopolitical place but as a body of transnational believers. The Christian community shares no blood, no nationality, no familial ties. They are spread among the nations, bonded through the blood of Christ, allegiance to the Kingdom of God alone, and a redefinition as family with God as our Father.
Our main identity is in Christ. Everything else is secondary. So it’s inconceivable to say my nation is better than another, to pledge loyalty to one country over another, or to support one nation’s war against another—when the Christians in Palestine, Israel, Russia, Ukraine, Myanmar, or Peru are spiritually closer to me than my American atheist neighbor.
The Kingdom of God is in this world, but not of it. As Jesus told Pilate, it didn’t originate here. Yes, we are to help build the Kingdom, but that doesn’t mean building it with the corrupt blocks of empire.
Even Israel’s kingship was a reluctant compromise, just like how Torah allows divorce even though divorce isn’t what God wants. When the people wanted a King, God made it clear in 1 Samuel 8:7 that this was a rejection of GOD to want a human to bow down to. God consents, but tells the prophet Samuel to deliver a warning. Samuel tells the people that nations will take their hard-earned money, will enslave them, and put them in many uncomfortable positions. The people ignore this. They ignore God.
Government is allowed because of human hardness of heart. But empire is always bad news, as Scripture continuously testifies too. Yes, God sometimes uses nations to enact justice, but on this side of Jesus, Christians do not willingly participate in such violence. That’s not our calling.
What frustrates me about Christian politicians is the prevalence of Christian Realism—the idea, most associated with theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, that Jesus’ radical teachings are nice in theory but too idealistic for a sinful world.
It’s in every political party. Obama famously said Niebuhr was his favorite theologian. You see this strain in just about every president, many of whom have claimed to be Christian. But Christian Realism often leads to saying we shouldn’t follow Jesus fully—because it’s too hard. Or worse, we cherry-pick the parts of Jesus that support our side, and ignore the parts that don’t.
In my opinion, Christian Realism is a cop-out. It doesn’t take seriously that Jesus was actually serious about how we’re supposed to live. The reason Christian Realism says governments can’t behave Christianly is because living like Jesus is fundamentally incompatible with politics.
Turning the other cheek, loving enemies, giving up your possessions—these aren’t things politicians do. They are the opposite of what power demands. So yes, Jesus doesn’t “work” in power. But the solution isn’t to drop Jesus—it’s to drop power.
Conservative Christian nationalists want to turn America into a Christian nation—as if that were ever God’s plan. If God needed a nation, Jesus would have come with a sword. But instead, he came riding on a donkey. He wore a crown of thorns, not gold. He died for us—he didn’t kill for us.
But progressives do something similar. They believe enacting the Kingdom of God means building a nation with the right policies. And don’t get me wrong—it’s great to help people. But it’s awfully convenient to outsource compassion to the state.
As theologian David E. Fitch says, government exists to preserve, not to transform. Traffic laws prevent accidents—but they don’t change the guy who flips you off at the stoplight. Transformation is the work of the church alone and cannot be done through rules.
Both sides have made government an idol. Every election is the “most important one ever.” Every outcome is apocalyptic. “Too much is at stake.” “They’re threatening our way of life.” We put so much faith in what some old guy does in a Greek-style building literally based on pagan temples that we forget God doesn’t dwell in buildings or in any one land.
God is a jealous God. Demands total allegiance. If you’re on God’s side, you don’t need backups.
Only the church can truly transform society. That’s why I appreciate Kuyper’s idea of “spheres.” Government, church, science, business, education—each has a place, but they’re not interchangeable. Government uses coercion. The church offers invitation. The church doesn’t legislate morality. It embodies it.
If only we spent all our energy getting people to believe and live out the Gospel as we do getting them to vote for our favorite old white guy...
Now, I respect those who died for my right to vote—even though I choose not to exercise that right, as is also my right. I deeply respect those who believe they’re doing good by engaging in politics. I just disagree that it’s the best or most ethical use of our limited time on earth.
Yes, policy helps people. Yes, good laws matter. But we’ve put too much hope in a system that can be reversed every four years.
What I’m convinced of is this: a local group of 100 Christians living out the Gospel can do more to transform a community than 100 senators ever could.
The church shouldn’t be in power. That’s when it gets dangerous—crusades, inquisitions, persecution. The church has always been most compelling when it’s least powerful in society. Jesus gave up power to show us how to live. Philippians 2 tells us exactly that.
“Pick your poison” still means you’re drinking poison. I’d rather not participate in the poison-drinking contest.
Personally, I’m more comfortable with local engagement—things that actually help our neighbors. Jeremiah tells us to seek the good of the city we have found ourselves in while in exile. We certainly are in exile. I just don’t think national politics and its ickiness is the way forward to do that kind of good.
So yes, this is mostly personal. I’m not saying this is binding. But I’m in good company—past guests of the show like Cody Cook and Craig Harguess have also made strong anti-state arguments. And check out our episode with Dr. Malcolm Foley for more examples of how Scripture views the state as very bad—he dives into the Book of Revelation as a bonus in that episode.
The early church looked at the government with deep suspicion. And they stood with Jesus, who basically told Pilate, in my translation:
“LOL. My Kingdom is from Heaven. Yours doesn’t even compare, bro.”
No matter what happens to America—whether it falls, gets taken over, or is run by a egomaniacal dictator if you could even imagine that—God will still be God. And the work of the church will go on. Here. And everywhere else believers are.
So I continue the work of the church as best I can. I reject the violent and greedy pagan states—even the ones that use Bible words and cosplay as Christians. I will let my love flow across the world, unrestricted by borders.
There’s still a lot I’m working out. Plenty of “what ifs” to ponder. But I’m starting here: I’m crushing the idol I made of politics. I repent of wanting the nation to serve my interests—even when I thought those interests were pure. And I’m pledging allegiance to Christ alone.
And if what I’ve said makes you mad, if it turns your stomach, I invite you to reflect: Is it possible that, just maybe, you’ve made a god out of politics?
As for me, my study has led me to this conviction: I must abstain from the political system in most ways—aside from obeying laws and giving Caesar what’s his. Even if Caesar is morally impaired, I’ve already pledged allegiance elsewhere.
Sorry, I’m taken.
Shalom,
Jake
See Also:
The Sermon on the Mount is Serious - SOLO Episode
In this solo episode of the Christianity Without Compromise podcast (then call Smashing Idols), host Jake Doberenz unpacks the cultural and theological habit of sidestepping Jesus’ teachings in the Sermon on the Mount.
Follow this show and Jake Doberenz’s writings at jakedoberenz.substack.com.
Christianity Without Compromise is a part of the KFM Broadcasting network.
