Tradition has painted a portrait of a Savior who stands aloof from governmental concerns and who calls his disciples to an apolitical life. But such a picture of Jesus is far from accurate, according to John Howard Yoder. This watershed work in New Testament ethics leads us to a Savior who was deeply concerned with the agenda of politics and the related issues of power, status, and right relations. By canvassing Luke's Gospel, Yoder argues convincingly that the true impact of Jesus' life and ministry on his disciples' social behavior points to a specific kind of Christian pacifism in which "the cross of Christ is the model of Christian social efficacy." This second edition of The Politics of Jesus provides up-to-date interaction with recent publications that touch on Yoder's timely topic. Following most of the chapters are new "epilogues" summarizing research conducted during the last two decades - research that continues to support the outstanding insights set forth in Yoder's original work.
Yoder was a Christian theologian, ethicist, and Biblical scholar best known for his radical Christian pacifism, his mentoring of future theologians such as Stanley Hauerwas, his loyalty to his Mennonite faith, and his 1972 magnum opus, "The Politics of Jesus".
I don't usually review books that I didn't finish, but in this case I thought the reason I didn't finish it was relevant to a review.
Yoder asserts that complete non-violence is an ethical imperative for every follower of Jesus. In his view, noble ends cannot justify violence. Instead, we should act peacefully and trust the outcome of all our actions to God. We are obligated to lives of peace, fairness and love, and no end-goal can abrogate those obligations. At all times, we must put the welfare of others on par with our own.
This may be visionary or this may be preposterous. Either way, it is not matched by the way Yoder practices scholarship. His book seems instead focused on achieving a particular goal by whatever literary means possible. His readings of biblical text are often tendentious. He insists on plain, literal readings when it benefits his ideological goals; he insists as passionately on complicated spiritualized readings when they suit his ideological goals better. He denies the presence of any real problems in the text that have led to the interpretations of his opponents. He summarizes the theology of opponents in ways they might not recognize. Fairness to others is a requirement in life; it is not, apparently, a requirement in writing theology.
All of this is common in scholarship, and I probably wouldn't comment on it in most books. But it grew increasingly painful to read it here because it smacked so strongly of hypocrisy. Maybe Yoder is right, and the refusal to regard our personal welfare is an essential part of a righteous life. But that is not the book he wrote.
While I think this book is wrong on several levels, it marked a valuable turning point in Evangelical ethical reflection. To say Jesus's message was political is commonplace today. It wasn't when Yoder wrote.
Thesis 1: Jesus’s ministry has a political claim that we often hide from ourselves (Yoder 2).
Yoder is against a “Creation Ethic” (8). While his primary target is natural law ethics, he also lists “situation ethics” under the same label: we discern the right be studying the realities around us (9).
Thesis 2: Because of Jesus’s “humanness,” there is the possibility of a distinctively normative, Christian ethic (10).
Yoder is against any kind of “natural law ethic,” and for him natural law = creation = nature = reason = reality. While I suspect Yoder paints with a rather broad brush, one can’t help but note a few points he scores: these models are usually “ascribed a priori a higher or deeper authority than the ‘particular’ Jewish or Christian sources of moral vision” (19).
His exegesis on “Kingdom” anticipates many of the gains found in NT Wright’s own work. Yoder’s argument concerning “Jubilee” is quite interesting, though not without difficulty. He sees Jesus in Luke 4 as inaugurating the New Jubilee. In fact, he can call the “Lord’s Prayer” a “Jubilee” prayer, since debts are wiped away (64). Bottom line: Those in the Kingdom must practice Jubilee. Corollary: to practice the Sabbath without practicing deliverance and Jubilee is not to practice the Sabbath.
(3) The point of OT violence was not violence, but that God acts to save his people without their needing to act (76-77).
(4) Jesus’s kingdom is not simply “internal” but is outward and social.
(5) The universe was made in an ordered form and is called “good” (141).
Be that as it may, Yoder insists “we have no access to the good creation of God” (141). Strong stuff. He does expand upon this language, drawing upon Paul’s words in Acts 17:22-28.
(5a) These power-structures were created by God and today provide a network for our existence (142). (5b) They rebelled and fell. (5c) God uses them for good.
My only problem at this point is (5b) seems to think that the powers = angels of one sort or another. That could work but the evidence is slim.
Romans 13
This is the most controversial chapter in the book. I’ll begin by noting some positives. Yoder is correct that Paul is not arguing for a positivist reading: i.e., whatever the state says is just/right by definition (this is the official position of the United States Supreme Court regarding its own rulings). Most controversially, he asserts that the sword, the machaira, is not a weapon as such but a symbol of authority. Therefore, this can’t mean that the state is just in war or taking a life.
By way of response: >He says God did not create the powers that be, but only orders them (201). Assuming that these powers are not self-existing, then yes, God did create them.
>He says Rom. 13 cannot be used as a proof-text for police/military functions (203). But what of the soldiers who came to John the Baptist? What of the centurion whom Jesus commended so highly? In neither case were they told to quit their unjust professions.
>His claim that the machaira can’t be used for death simply won’t hold. The state is said not to wield it in vain. But if it is merely symbolic and can’t restrain my actions, then the state is wielding it in vain. Jesus reaffirms the death penalty in Matt. 15.
Positives
*Yoder does a fine job demonstrating that Jesus didn’t come to offer a Kantian kingdom and a Kantian, spiritual ethic.
Critique
~1. It’s hard to reconcile Yoder’s claim that the State is the embodied evil of the demonic powers with Paul’s claim that it is a minister of good.
~2. Yoder wants to posit a good creation with good structures (as he should), but given Romans 13 and the fact that God commanded wars in the Old Testament, how can one then critique Just War Theory and the use of the sword?
~3. Yoder almost always dismisses dissonant voices as “unaware of Jesus’s social dimension,” of whom he usually means “Christendom” (whatever that means).
~4. Yoder’s claims in (5a-c) need an additional premise: (5d) Creation has been restored and reaffirmed in the resurrection of Christ. To be fair, Yoder approaches this point (144-145). Yet, in this section he doesn’t mention the Resurrection. He does hint at it on p.239.
~5. While correctly rejecting the Enlightenment project, Yoder uses a lot of its rhetoric. He continually contrasts the “traditional” or “Constantinian” reading with a fresher reading.
~6. What’s the value of positing a good creation if we have no cognitive access to it (141)? In fact, and most devastatingly, how does Yoder even know creation is good if we have no cognitive access to it? In any case, the Bible doesn’t follow this reasoning, since it tells us to look to nature and creation for wisdom (“Go to the ant, thou sluggard!”).
Conclusion:
A valuable and welcome read. His exegesis of Luke is outstanding and he doesn’t opt for easy answers, even when I think he is wrong.
Probably the most misunderstood and misquoted thinker since Adam Smith (or Richard Simmons?), the Jeez, as I call him, actually had a lot of nice things to say about other people, even the ones that hated it. And his call to his followers to emulate him with the idea of spontaneous unconditional love for others (I know, right, white-guy America? Feelings?! Gross!) is definitely not cited enough. In fact, as Yoder points out, there are lots of arguments and exegesis trying to justify all the shit that Christ didn't say, but little attention paid to him as a daring, revolutionary social critic who thought, shit, why can't everyone just get along? You don't need to be any kind of religious person to appreciate this work, which nicely and snugly places J.C. into the pantheon of socially radical nice guys throughout history.
Yoder is apparently regarded as one of the pre-eminent theologians of the twentieth century, I think because of his emphasis on pacifism and his questioning of the Church's relationship with government and political authority. Perhaps his ideas have been so absorbed into the Christian mainstream that I am not struck by their novelty. Certainly his writing is abysmal: meandering and circling back upon itself, full of double negatives and endless subordinate clauses, heavily footnoted with long walks off topic. Our book group forgave him that verbal meandering a little bit, because the book seems to have been cobbled together from a series of conference papers rather than written with one unifying purpose.
So we finished the book, and I was glad in the way that I finish a tough workout, not that I enjoyed it, but am glad that I did it and feel better for having endured, and then we looked Yoder up on Wikipedia to try to figure out how the book fits into his life's work and why (?) it's considered to be so great, and it happened to mention the sexual allegations against him.
Whaaa...?
We dug deeper. (E.g., this Chicago Tribune article.) Turns out that he harassed / assaulted at least eight -- and they named eighty more -- women throughout his professorial career. He was apparently trying to come to some new sexual ethic within the church, and tried it out with students, colleagues, women in the church, women at conferences, lots and lots of women. No intercourse, but lots and lots of creepy and perverted behavior.
And that makes me angry. So angry that I don't really care what he has to say about ethics (insert derisive snort!) or what he might say about the politics of Jesus.
After reading Christian Witness to the State I felt like re-reading this book. The re-read confirmed that this as one of my all time favorite books. Yoder's thesis is rather simple: Jesus Christ is the norm for Christian ethics. He is responding to the argument, made by many Christians, that Jesus' ethic, his way of life, is just not practical or was never intended to be the way that Christians live. Yoder makes no claim at this being a full systematic study, but the ground he does cover in making his argument is convincing. He focuses on the gospel of Luke (chapter 2) and then picks up on themes from the Old Testament in the implications of Jubilee from Leviticus and declared by Jesus (chapter 3) and the trust that God will fight for us as in the Exodus (chapter 4). After some interesting examples of nonviolence in Jesus' day, showing such an idea was possible (chapter 5), he moves on to look at other parts of the New Testament. Often people, including Christians, see a wide gap between Jesus' focus on life and action versus Paul's focus on belief and abstract theology. Yoder challenges this dichotomy, arguing that Paul's ethic is completely in line with Jesus (chapters 6-7). One of the most thought-provoking chapters is on the "powers" (chapter 8). Yoder shows that for Paul the powers (structures) had a good purpose in the original creation but are now fallen. But Christ has defeated these powers and set up the church, therefore the real story of history is in the church, not in the powers (governments). The powers are a mix of good and bad: they still serve a good purpose but they are still fallen.
Chapter nine is about revolutionary subordination. Here Yoder discusses the many passages in Paul about submission (wives to husbands, slaves to masters). His central point is that in a world where such submission was already the norm, something had to have happened for such a teaching to be included. This was that Paul had taught that in Christ a new world had come where all people were equal. Thus, for example, the Christian woman has a newfound freedom in Christ which allows her to speak in the congregation, yet also in Christ she could accept her place in that society. Yoder does not draw this out to a full argument of the place of, for example, women in churches/ministry now. But the point is that all are equal in Christ, yet in certain cultural contexts Christians submit just as Christ did.
Yoder continues looking at Paul in chapters ten and eleven. First he examines Romans 13, reminding us that this passage must be read in context with Romans 12. In this, it does not justify rebelling against unjust states, rather it calls us to the same ethic Jesus' sermon on the mount does. In the next chapter he argues that in the doctrine of justification by faith there is a key component, often overlooked, of bringing Gentile and Jew together. He does not deny that Jesus' death was a sacrifice for sins, as some have charged, he instead seeks to emphasize the social aspect of justification.
The final chapter takes a brief look at other parts of the New Testament, specifically Revelation. Yoder's point is clear: Christians are called to live an ethic like that of Jesus which is a life of radical nonviolence. Importantly, in this last chapter he argues that Christian nonviolence only makes sense rooted in Jesus Christ. A nonviolent Christian does not reject war/violence in order to show the same ends can be achieved by nonviolent means. Christian nonviolence is not pragmatic. Instead, it is obedient: Christians should be nonviolent in obedience to Christ and in that take whatever comes.
This is an issue I have studied and thought on a lot. I agree with Yoder that the way of Christ is nonviolence. But I still think that in a fallen world it is not wrong for a Christian to support a state going to war. Perhaps this shows my still lack of faith in Jesus, maybe that is what Yoder would say. That aside, it is clear that to follow Jesus is to follow the way of peace, revolutionary subordination and self-sacrifice even unto death. This call blows my mind and challenges my heart, and it comes across clearly in this book which is why I give it five stars.
I think I've been close to considering becoming a pacificist for a while, but Yoder moves me that much closer. And the reasons for this have very little to do with philosophical argumentation, i.e. I would not become a pacificist as an "intellectual" position. They have much more do to with my Christian convictions that our behavior ought to be modelled on the form of Jesus' life and ministry. Yoder, first of all, convinces completely that this form of life was political in character (crucifixion, of course, was a political death), and he's pretty convincing too on Jesus' complete non-violence (through his rejection of the Zealot option). Another of the best contributions of this book is speaking of the church as having an apocalyptic identity. What that means is that, through the resurrection, the church has a foretaste ("first fruits," as Paul says) of the ultimate hope of a new heaven and a new earth, and as Jesus as its true sovereign (not Caesar), and that Christian identity is to life in this world acknowledging this Lordship and this ultimate hope, through non-violent resistance. I'm not sure what the practical outcomes of this are, but it has set my mind on a completely new path, a completely new way of conceiving social action.
Don’t let the word “politics” scare you away - in this book, “politics” doesn’t refer to the nasty mess of modern politics. No, here “the political” truly means “the social” or “civil society”.
Cushioned in hundreds of footnotes, Yoder lays out a compelling and powerful case for a church that promotes social justice, peace, and perfect love and rejects nationalism, consumerism, and hyper-individualism. I am convinced that when the next reformation happens, this text will be seen as a groundwork for that needed movement.
For an absolute layman when it comes to academic theology, this was one of the most difficult books I’ve ever read - but also one of the most rewarding.
I got interested in Yoder through Stanley Hauerwas and decided to read this book. For some reason, probably at least partly bias because of the Amish last name, I had assumed that this book would be simple and folksy. It is far, far from that--even if its message is reasonably simple, Yoder's style is heavily-footnoted, erudite academic (which I don't mind). In fact, I learned six new words from this book, which may be a record:
The main thrust of the book is to argue that Jesus stands as a normative example for Christian people, in a very specific way--not in his barefooted itinerancy (a la St. Francis' interpretation), but rather in his complete rejection of violence to achieve his ends. (In fact Yoder encompasses violence under a larger umbrella called "the compulsiveness of purpose that leads the strong to violate the dignity of others.") He counterposes this position against a number of more "classic" interpretations, which include interpreting Jesus' life in only metaphysical terms or assuming that he simply represents an ideal type which is so unreachable as to be non-normative.
While I found the book interesting throughout, by far the most insightful part for me was Chapter 8, "Christ and Power". In this section Yoder addresses carefully the language of "powers and principalities" (i.e., angels, demons, etc.) in the writings of Paul, something that is either skipped over or discomforting to the modern reader. Yoder makes a very compelling interpretation that this language was intended to be mapped on to what modern readers would understand as "power structures" in society--systematizing forces that can provide beneficial order to human life, but which are "fallen" in that, and to the extent to which, they claim for themselves absolute value and sovereignty. This to me was a very powerful image, and Yoder provides a strong interpretation of the meaning of the life of Jesus with regard to these Powers.
Unfortunately, the copy of the book that I checked out of the library (the only one available at the NYU/NY Public/Brooklyn Public libraries) is missing about 30 pages, not because they fell out, but because 30 other pages were printed twice, once over where the missing pages should be. I checked the Google Books preview to see if I could use that to fill in the missing space, but the same problem is there as well!
I have exhausted my reading of Christian pacifists. I got about 20 pages into this book and realized I had made an mistake. Mr. Yoder--an Anabaptist and pacifist--posits the Jesus was a complete pacifist, and that those who call themselves Christians should be pacifists as well.
I object. As I said in an earlier book review (Toward a Theology of Peace), I'm all for peace, but let's not kid ourselves about who God is or the world He made for us to live in. I admit I find Anabaptists a trifle annoying, as I do all pacifists. It's wonderful that they have sworn off violence and conflict, especially since they are protected by the most powerful military the world has ever seen. I would have much more respect for Christian pacifists who lived in places like, say, Pakistan. They would really have an opportunity to live out their ideals there, since Christians are routinely brutalized, murdered, have their children stolen and sold into sexual slavery, and are not allowed to own anything.
Having read the Bible, and read about the Bible, a great deal, I have come to the conclusion that it says what is says to each and every individual. There is background, certainly, one needs to understand the context of the stories in the Bible. Likewise, there are issues of translation that need to be taken into consideration. There are communities of interpretation that have given rise to certain beliefs and traditions. There are bad readings, better readings, and spot-on readings. Some people seem to 'get it' more than others. Others don't get it at all. Ultimately, though, the Bible is a book that you yourself will have to wrestle with, interpret, and live with. My reading is no more or no less authoritative than yours.
So, to Mr. Yoder and all the others who believe that God is love, and that the answer to all of life's problems is nonviolence, I wish you well, and I ask you to remember just who it is that allows you the safety to live out your values.They are not sheep, my friends. They are wolves.
I tried reading this when I was in college. I remember bogging down somewhere in the middle and never finishing the book. Reading it 30 years later I found the book much more understandable which says much more about me and where I was at in college than it does about John Howard Yoder and his writing. If I understand him correctly, Yoder states that we should read the New Testament through the person of Jesus and that we should pay attention to the political dimensions of his message. Some of my professors were steeped in JHY and so even though I didn't finish the book back then, elements of his ideas were certainly familiar. Those who want to focus on Jesus as the Messiah who came to "save the lost," and those who focus solely on conversion will probably be appalled by the book. Those who believe Jesus and the early church had something to say to the social and political structures of their day, and by extension, the structures of today will find this book to be thought provoking and stimulating. The ideas presented by Yoder are important. They hopefully will continue to impact the Christian church and broader society.
I originally read this book in college, and decided to re-visit it recently, which proved quite fruitful. Yoder's central thesis is that Jesus' gospel cannot be stripped of its socio-ethical, political implications for those who want to follow Him. The book was written in '72, and some of the arguments Yoder responds to definitely seem dated (I'm not aware of many young Christians today who insist that Jesus' message was limited to an "inner spiritual decision"), however I was still moved by Yoder's passionate arguments. Particularly his explanations of Jesus' final temptation in Gesthsemane, as well as his interpretation of Ephesians 5, were exciting to read. Reader beware - Yoder is a staunch pacifist, and does not shy away from this perspective. Overall, this is a great read for anyone who struggles with questions about how following Jesus impacts our ethics.
Der mennonitische Theologie Yoder entwickelt eine Sozialethik, die sich größtenteils auf Jesus und Paulus gründet. Er kritisiert gegenwärtige ethische Entwürfe, die Jesu Worte auf die damalige Zeit beschränken und plädiert dafür, dass Jesu Sozialethik auch gegenwärtig normative Aspekte hat. Yoder hat aufgrund einiger Ausführungen durch das Werk einen hohen Bekanntheitsgrad bekommen. Da ich mir teilweise schon Bücher durchgelesen habe, die Yoder rezipiert haben, fand ich das Buch an manchen Stellen zu langatmig und zu langweilig. Trotzdem ein wertvolles Buch, dass man gelesen haben sollte.
The Politics of Jesus est un traité de théologie politique libéral d'origine mennonite, écrit par John Howard Yoder.
La note de ce livre dépendra beaucoup de votre approche de la théologie systématique. John Howard Yoder travaille dans ce livre à justifier les prises de positions politiques et sociales de son église, en suivant une méthode libérale. Tout en conspuant la "scolastique" (en fait, l'exégèse évangélique ordinaire qui vise à être systématique) il adhère à une école d'interprétation qu'il appelle le "réalisme biblique"et qui revient à lire la Bible de façon isolée et réduite et surtout a-systématique. Il cible les passages qui ont une pertinence pour sa thèse, mais ignore volontairement tout passage contraire et surtout: ne fais aucune sorte d'harmonisation entre les textes. Pour un réformé fan de scolastique et qui accorde du prix à l'orthodoxie, c'est un des auteurs les plus aux antipodes que je pouvais trouver.
Pour ce qui concerne le style, il est parfois difficile de voir où il veut en venir et quelle est la forme de son raisonnement. C'est peut être à cause de son a-systématicité. Cela dit, il n'est pas hermétique dans son vocabulaire, et il a une érudition certaine. Il manque juste de clarté dans la construction de ses chapitres et de son livre. Un mennonite ou un libéral trouvera probablement dans ce livre quelque chose d'inspirant. Pour ma part je ne suis pas le public de ce livre.
Makes a persuasive case that Jesus wasn't about a private, sectarian faith, but about transforming society through nonviolence. I wish JHY would have fleshed out better what that might look like. I suspect his ideas would be discussed more today if not for the sexual allegations against him. Even as things are, in the theological world his voice is the lone "big gun" from the Anabaptist world.
Definitely somewhat of a slog to get through at some points and really wasn’t anything I haven’t heard. But it was cool to read a book like this that had impacted so many. Good book on the victorious lamb and whatever idk.
My latest book, John Howard Yoder's classic "The Politics of Jesus", had various points touching on current affairs. p.22: "Too hastily we have passed all of this language of annunciation through the filter of the assumption that, of course, it is all to be taken “spiritually.”" p.24-5: "The tempter's hypothetical syllogism “If you are the Son of God, then ...” is reasoning not from a concept of metaphysical sonship but from kingship. “Son of God” cannot very well in Aramaic have pointed to the ontological coessentiality of the Son with the Father, so that it would then be appropriate for the tempter, as the first Chalcedonian, to contemplate how, sharing the divine attributes, Jesus is by definition omnipotent and subject to the temptation to put his omnipotence to improper use. The “Son of God” in Psalm 2:7 is the King; all the options laid before Jesus by the tempter are ways of being king." p.33-4: "Despite the extensive parallels with the Sermon on the Mount, the emphasis in Luke’s report is different. The blessings are balanced with woes, after the fashion of ancient Israel's covenant ceremonies. The blessing is for the poor, not only the poor in spirit; for the hungry, not only those who hunger for justice. The examples drawn from the sexual realm (Matt. 5: 27-32) are missing; only personal and economic conflict are chosen as specimens of the New Way, in which seized property is not reclaimed and the delinquent loan is forgiven. As in the jubilee, and as in the Lord's Prayer, debt is seen as the paradigmatic social evil" p.46: "In the reverence which surrounds Christian interpretation of the story of Gethsemane, the reader and even the professional commentator seldom have indulged the historical curiosity which would ask what it could have meant for “this cup to pass.”" p.47: "[Luke 22:24-53] As the tempter has suggested, Jesus once again could have taken over the kingship by acclamation after the feedings of the multitude. His second chance for a coup d’etat had been at the entry to the temple, with the jubilant crowd at his back, the temple police thrown off guard by the noise and the Roman guards cowed by Jesus’ air or moral authority. … As Satan had come thrice in the desert, so the real option of Zealot-like kingship comes the third time in the public ministry." p.51: "The cross is not a detour or a hurdle on the way to the kingdom, nor is it even the way to the kingdom; it is the kingdom come." p.62: "It is remarkable that the verb most used by Jesus is aphiemi, which means “remit, send away, liberate, forgive a debt” and which is regularly used in connection with the jubilee." p.95: "There is in the New Testament no Franciscan glorification of barefoot itinerancy. Even when Paul argues the case for celibacy, it does not occur to him to appeal to the example of Jesus. Even when Paul explains his own predilection for self-support there is no appeal to Jesus' years of village artisan. Even when the Apostle argues strongly the case for his teaching authority, there is no appeal to the rabbinic ministry of Jesus. Jesus' trade as a carpenter, his association with fishermen, and his choice of illustrations from the life of the sower and the shepherd have through Christian history given momentum to the romantic glorification of the handcrafts and the rural life; but there is none of this in the New Testament, which testifies throughout to the life and mission of a church going intentionally into the cities in full knowledge of the conflicts which awaited here there. That the concept of imitation is not applied by the New Testament at some of those points where Franciscan and romantic devotion has tried most piously to apply it, is all the more demonstration of how fundamental the thought of participation in the suffering of Christ is when the New Testament church sees it as guiding and explaining her attitude to the powers of the world. Only at one point, only on one subject — but then consistently, universally — is Jesus our example: in his cross." p.105: "The kingdom of God is a social order, but not a hidden one. It is not a universal catastrophe independent of the will of human beings; it is that concrete jubilary obedience, in pardon and repentance, the possibility of which is proclaimed beginning right now, opening up the real accessibility of a new order in which grace and justice are linked, which people have only to accept. It does not assume that time will end tomorrow; it reveals why it is meaningful that history should go on at all." p.106-7: "Because Jesus ' particular way of rejecting the sword and at the same time condemning those who wielded it was politically relevant, both the Sanhedrin and the Procurator had to deny him the right to live, in the name of both of their forms of political responsibility." p.119: "It is often mistakenly held that the key concept of Jesus’ ethic is the “Golden Rule”: “do to others as you would have them do to you”. This is stated by Jesus, however, not as the sum of his own teaching but as the center of the law (Mark 12:28-29; Matt. 22:40, citing Lev. 19:15). Jesus’ own “fulfillment” of this thrust of the law, which thereby becomes through his own work a “new commandment” (John 13:34-35; 15:12; cf. 1John 2:18) is different, “Do as I have done to you” or “do as the Father did in sending his Son.” It is striking how great is the mass of writings on religious ethics … which still fails to note this very evident structural change." p.129: "The cross of Christ was not an inexplicable or chance event that happened to strike him, like illness or accident. To accept the cross as his destiny, to move toward it and even to provoke it, when he could well have done otherwise, was Jesus’ constantly reiterated free choice. … The cross of Calvary was not a difficult family situation, not a frustration of visions of personal fulfillment, a crushing debt, or a nagging in-law; it was the political, legally-to-be-expected result of a moral clash with the powers ruling his society. Already the early Christians had to be warned against claiming merit for any and all suffering; only if their suffering be innocent, and a result of the evil will of their adversaries, may it be understood as meaningful before God (1 Pet. 2:18-21; 3:14-18; 4:1, 13-16; 5:9; James 4:10)." p.132-3: "None of these writers, contemporary or classic, seems to have been attending to the quite evident distinction between a naïve outward (“franciscan”) replicating of the shape of Jesus' life (barefoot itinerancy, celibacy, and manual labor) , which never arises in the apostolic writings, and vulnerable enemy love and renunciation of dominion in the real world, which is omnipresent. The latter is far more concrete than a “broad pattern of self-giving love,” [a quotation from Harvey] and the former is a red herring." p.155: "The church’s calling is to be the conscience and the servant within human society. … But the church will also need to be sufficiently familiar with the manifest ways in which God has acted to reconcile and call together a people for himself, so as not to fall prey to the Sadducean or “German Christian” temptation to read off the surface of history a simple declaration of God's will. God is working in the world and it is the task of the church to know how he is working. The church should be the first to distinguish between this kind of divine work — which can be discerned definitively and faithfully , not only in the light of faith — and the to and fro on the surface of current events concerning which many, even many in the church, will exclaim, “Behold, here is the Christ.” " p.172: "Here [in the Haustafeln: Col 3:18-4:1, Eph 5:21-6:9, 1Pe 2:13-3:7] we have a faith that assigns personal moral responsibility to those who had no legal or moral status in their culture, and makes of them decision makers." p.180: "Hypotassesthai then does not mean playing along at every price, not slavish obedience, not bowing before the throne and altar. It is not the attitude of the loyal citizen in the time of national absolutism. It is rather founded, in accord with an ethical theme which runs clear through the New Testament, in the person and the way of the Lord, who is at the same time the norm and the realization of this self-abasement. … If then hypotassesthai (and the other substantially synonymous terms) is in principle a posture “befitting” the gospel of the self-abasing Lord of the world, then it is in every situation a free, extremely aggressive way of acting, taking very clear account of the situation, including feeling and understanding and will, always including the possibility of a spirit-driven resistance, of an appropriate disavowal and a refusal, ready to accept suffering at this or that particular point." p.187: "Since in the resurrection and in Pentecost the kingdom which was imminent has now in part come into our history, the church can now live out, within the structures of society, the newness of the life in that kingdom." p.189: "the transformation which the theme of subordination undergoes in the light of the cross…is explicitly reciprocal in Ephesians 5:21; less so in the other texts [in the Haustafeln]." p.194: "There is a very strong strand of Gospel teaching which sees secular government as the providence of the sovereignty of Satan. This position is perhaps most typically expressed by the temptation story, in which Jesus did not challenge the claim of Satan to be able to dispose of the rule of all the nations. {cf. Archie Penner’s The New Testament, the Christian, and the State (Scottdale, Pa.: Herald, 1959)}" p.199: "The weakness of the “positivistic” view [that whatever government exists, it is by virtue of an act of institution, that is, a specific providential act of God, that it came into being] is that the text of Romans makes no affirmative moral judgment on the existence of a particular government and says nothing particular about who happens to be Caesar or what his policies happen to be." p.199-200: "What is ordained is not a particular government but the concept of proper government, the principle of government as such. … If, however, a government fails adequately to fulfil the functions divinely assigned to it, it loses its authority. It then becomes the duty of the preacher to teach that this has become an unjust government, worthy of rebellion. It can become the duty of Christian citizens to rise up against it, not because they are against government as such but because they are in favour of proper government." p.208: "the claims of Caesar are to be measured by whether what he claims is due to him is part of the obligation to love. Love in turn is defined (v.10) by the fact that it does no harm. {the verb “render” (apodote) is the same in Jesus’ call to discrimination (Mark 12:7; Matt. 22:21; Luke 22:35)}" p.208-9: "It is not by accident that the imperative of [Romans] 13:1 is not literally one of obedience. The Greek language has good words to denote obedience, in the sense of completely bending one’s will and one’s actions to the desires of another. What Paul calls for, however, is subordination. This verb is based upon the same root as the ordering of the powers of God." p.216: "faith is at its core the affirmation which separated Jewish Christians from other Jews, that in Jesus of Nazareth the Messiah had come. A Jew did not become a Christian by coming to see God as a righteous judge and a gracious, forgiving protector. The Jew believed that already, being a Jew. What it took for him or her, to become a Christian was not some new idea about his or her sinfulness or God’s righteousness, but one about Jesus." p.220-1 (quoting Marcus Barth, “Jews and Gentiles: The social character of justification in Paul,” Journal of Ecumenical Studies, Philadelphia, 5/2 (spring 1968), 259): "Sharing in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is the means of justification; only in Christ’s death and resurrection is the new man created from at least two, a Jew and a Greek, a man and a woman, a slave and a free man, etc. … The new man is present in actuality where two previously alien and hostile men come together before God. Justification in Christ is thus not an individual miracle happening to this person or that person, which each may seek or possess for himself. Rather justification by grace is a joining together of this person and that person, of the near and far; … it is a social event." p.221: "In general the New Testament word pistis would better not be translated “faith,” with the concentration that word has for modern readers upon either a belief content or the act of believing; “faithfulness” would generally be a more accurate rendering of its meaning." p.222: "the word ktisis, here [2Cor 5:17] translated “creature” or “creation,” is not used elsewhere in the New Testament to designate the individual person. It in fact most often is used to designate not the object of creation but rather the act of creating (e.g., Rom. 1:20), “from the creation of the world.” p.223: “The accent lies not on transforming the ontology of the person…but on transforming the perspective of one who has accepted Christ as life context." p.236: "The renunciation of the claim to govern history was not made only by the second person of the Trinity taking upon himself the demand of an eternal divine decree; it was also made by a poor, tired rabbi when he came from Galilee to Jerusalem to be rejected."
Yoder’s vision for Christian community and political engagement is scripturally robust and compellingly argued; should be a must read for any theology student and minister
This is an older book initially published in 1972, long before the conservative Christian preoccupation with right-wing politics in the US. So don't be misled by the title to think it is concerned with the Moral Majority of the 80's or the conservative Christian attachment to the Republican party in the US. Instead, it is a scholarly argument against the idea that the New Testament is focused on spiritual truths that have no bearing upon a Christian's political loyalties.
This is a more difficult read, since it is targeted toward a scholarly audience. So it took me a while to read, but I found it personally worthwhile as a Christian. Yoder points out that the very nature of what it means to truly follow Jesus will be counter-cultural and will go against the grain of what the financial and political institutions of the world are striving for. To be generous with others in the same way that God is generous with us will be considered foolish and wasteful. To forgive others as Christ has forgiven us (which includes monetary debts as well as sin) will rub against the grain of the justice and financial systems. To love our enemies just as Christ does will rub against the grain of the military-industrial complex. To proclaim that 'Jesus is Lord' is a direct challenge to all the political systems of this world.
The result of following Jesus in this way is necessarily persecution of one sort or another (John 15:20; 2 Timothy 3:12). And what sets Christians apart is how we respond to persecution. A person who is following Jesus will try to respond as Jesus did (1 Peter 2:21). A follower of Jesus responds to persecution in a non-violent way by blessing those who are persecuting him/her (Roman 12:21 , 1 Peter 3:9).
The most impactful insight I got from this book is that we often confuse subordination with submission or subjection when reading the "be subject to the authorities" passages in the New Testament (Romans 13:1; 1 Peter 2:13). Yoder points out that the Greek word used in these passages is best rendered as subordination (willingly accepting one's place below an authority). It does not mean that we should blindly obey everything those in authority tell us or that we should just play along with what our government wants. This matches what we see Jesus doing in the Gospels. He did not play along with what the religious leaders or the Roman government wanted. He freely criticized both and continued to be faithful to His purposes regardless of what the authorities wanted Him to do. Instead, He willingly accepted the punishment given to Him on the cross. He subordinated Himself to the authorities without compromising His purposes or values. This idea of "subordination does not mean obedience" also applies to the New Testament passages teachings related to wives, children, and slaves.
Another insight I got from this book is that, for a follower of Jesus, it is more important to be faithful than to be effective. We live in a world that worships progress and effectiveness. I am often guilty of being a pragmatist, which can lead to compromising my own values for the sake of being more effective. However, Yoder points out that this is not how Jesus lived his life on earth. Jesus did not compromise Himself for the sake of making His mission more effective. Instead, He remained faithful to His Father and accepted the consequences of that.
Bottom line: This is a tough read, not just because it is written in a dense, scholarly fashion but also because it exposes attitudes in our hearts that are contrary to the Way of Christ. Nevertheless, I highly recommend it because, in this age of political division and rage, it pointed me back to Jesus and the way of life He has called me to.
I am rereading this for my dissertation on James McClendon, a Southern Baptist theologian that regarded reading this book to be a "second conversion" in his faith.
This book came out in the heyday of Nienuhr-style "realist" Christian political engagement, which ended up supporting the status quo on a lot of issues, namely race and economic injustice. "Realism" meant compromise. Yoder's study, at the very minimum, demonstrates that Jesus was enacting a new political strategy for liberation through faithful non-violence, that did have the expectation of actuallly "working." Jesus was not being a hopeless idealist or just an evangelical soul-saver.
Many baulk at pacifism. In fact, I did as I was raised solidly in a just-war tradition of thought. But it seems inescapable that Jesus engaged oppressive powers with the strategy of the cross, and that the cross' character is the central ethic of the NT writers. What does that mean today in all the different sorts of political conflicts? I don't know if pacifism is the solution for every conflict. But, as I recommend to my congregation, Christianity's "default setting" is a skepticism against the all notions of "justifiable" war (How rare is that actually the case, when we get through the fog of propaganda!) as well as a commitment to non-violence and even self-renunciation (the way of the cross) as the means to bring peace.
Yoder's work now is several decades old, but there is still tons of insights for the average reader. His discussion on justification on faith pertaining more to reconciliation between Jew and Gentile is still relevant as it has been picked up by the New Perspective on Paul guys.
His treatment on demonstrating a Christological basis for God's attributes and our ethic (who God is = who Christ is = how we ought to act) will teach any fundamentalist the error of their ways when they elevate, for instance, holy wrath or omnipotence over perfect love in God's being. Indeed, the only reason God is powerful is because of the embrace of weakness on the cross!
For those interested, I would recommended looking up McClendon's Systematic Theology. In particular his chapter in Ethics (Vol. 1) on the "anastatic" dimension of pacifism and Doctrine (vol. 2) on the atonement. These fill out Yoder's work. As well, Ched Myer's commentary on Mark, Binding the Strong Man, fills out Yoder's thinking in a wonderful commentary.
I am not, strictly speaking a pacifist, and I don't view Constantine or so-called "Constantinianism" in the same way as people like Yoder. However, it is a generally well-argued point Yoder makes regarding the root of Christian social action being in Christ's renunciation of violence AND coercion. For any on the Left or Right who want to use political power to further their social agenda, or who (more likely) are manipulated by the "powers" (politicians, ideologies, structures, etc.) to sanctify means and goals potentially not so worthy of Jesus, this is a good book for taking a second look at things.
Yoder's chief problem is in beginning with his assumptions related to church history, the "purity" of the gospel and the early church in contrast to "post-Constantine," and his Radical Reformation background - and interpreting the Scriptures through these assumptions rather than letting the Scriptures speak for themselves. The effect is to produce confusion or guilt in the naive reader who disagrees: it's hard to disagree with Scripture as a faithful believer. The result is that it becomes a "What would Jesus think?" kind of thing which, of course, Yoder uses the Scriptures to answer more definitively than is really possible.
His second problem is that he makes very selective use only of Scriptures that explicitly support his views. He does little or nothing with Scripture examples that contradict his views - even in order to attempt to reconcile the paradox in support of himself. How that differs from how Marcion or Thomas Jefferson chopped and pasted their Bibles to support their views, I don't know.
But that isn't to call Yoder a heretic by any means. I actually think his views, while methodologically deficient and theologically incomplete, are extremely well-argued and fit within the parameters of what can indeed be accepted as "A Christian approach" - as opposed to any notion of "THE Christian approach." This is a book worth taking very seriously and doing further Scriptural study on one's own while reading.
John Howard Yoder’s work “The Politics of Jesus” has been recommended to me on more than one occasion, and after reading it I can understand why. This book, originally published in 1972, and later revised and updated in 1994, still speaks powerfully today. There have been few books in my life that I have wrestled with, engaged with, and sought to dig deeper into than this book.
Yoder’s insight into Western Christianity—primarily since the time of the Reformation, but also since the beginning of Christendom—and how the Church in the West has understood Christian ethics and the impact of the divine and human Jesus of Nazareth on Christian ethics was both eye-opening and saddening. Anyone who is the least interested in or stirred by the topic of Christian ethics, or the lifestyle of a Christian in the midst of secular society, or the meaning of Jesus’ lifestyle as it pertains to the political or social realm should pick up this book.
Much of Yoder’s goal in this work is to peel back the presuppositions and misconceptions that interpreters of Scripture have been bringing to the text for centuries, and rather, allowing—as best we can—for the text to speak for itself, and to indicate the relevance of both Jesus’ lifestyle and teaching, how this relevance was carried forth in the works of Paul the Apostle, and how this relevance has been tweaked, changed, and even entirely forgotten within much of mainline Christianity in the West.
Above all, this is a book concerning the biblical text; it is exegetical and hermeneutical, and with any book revolving around biblical interpretation, there will be much discussion and debate. Yoder is not the final word on the subject of Christian ethics or Jesus as being political or socially relevant, and nor should he be. But if the way of Jesus is to be normative whatsoever for his followers—and I believe it is—then I would encourage many, if not all, Christ-followers to consider how the ethics of Jesus himself point us to how we are to live within society.
Since being published in 1972 this book has been widely recognized as an explanation of anabaptist theology. The book’s approach is to study the Gospel of Luke and parts of Paul’s letter to the Romans to show that Jesus’ message was one of radical Christian pacifism in behalf of the cause of the week, poor, and disenfranchised. The book makes the case that Jesus had a social agenda that proclaimed the cause of a new society while not using violence to achieve those ends which in turn resulted in his crucification -- a punishment used for political rebels. This view of Jesus is generally accepted as being compatible with the thinking of anabaptist Christians because of its emphasis on how Christians live their lives in this world; as opposed to considering the message of Jesus to be strictly spiritual and not concerned with earthly injustices.
The Politics of Jesus was ranked by evangelical publication Christianity Today as the 5th most important Christian book of the 20th century.
This is a most significant book, and one that needs to be read slowly and thought about deeply.
John Howard Yoder (1927-97), the premier Mennonite scholar of the twentieth century, made a major contribution to Christian theology/ethics with the publication of this book, and I have profited greatly by reading it again.
This book is primarily for Christians. At least, those who are not Christians will doubtlessly not agree with the central themes of the book. But most "liberal" Christians who have an Enlightenment worldview will likely not agree with much of Yoder's book either.
When I finished read this book a few minutes ago, it dawned on me that probably the worldview of many contemporary Christians is formed far more on the basis of what they hear on CNN (or, God forbid, on Fox News) or read in "Time" or "Newsweek" than on the basis of what they read and understand about the Bible. Many such people would perhaps realize that that is so by comparing their worldview with that expounded in "The Politics of Jesus."
I moved between liking this book and not liking it. On the one hand, Yoder is an able thinker and writer who has great faith in the power of God to change people/places by the alternative witness of the church in society. On the other hand, I don't see how forming what amounts to convents and monateries affects the public at-large. I know he insists that it's not sectarianims that he's talking about, but I'm not clear on how his vision works out in the world of laws, law enforcement, and war.
I think John Stackhouse makes some VERY worthwhile counterpoints to Yoder (see Making the Best of It: Following Christ in the Real World).
Stanley Hauerwas once claimed that American theology would be forever divided into "pre-Yoder" and "post-Yoder." If only he could have been right! Realizations of Yoder's own personal (sexual) ethics in recent years have sullied his presence in theological circles in recent years, creating a new (complicatedly unfortunate) kind of divide: "Yoder-defenders" and "Yoder-opposers." It is a sad situation. (Hauerwas, of course, would never claim that American theology will be forever divided into "pre-Hauerwas" and "post-Hauerwas," and perhaps his ethical integrations of Yoder's insights will last longer than Yoder's own influence...?)
It is a sad situation because Hauerwas' praise is so thoroughly merited: The Politics of Jesus is a theological-ethical masterwork in every way, rhetorically discrete and socially savvy. Yoder isn't the smoothest or lyrical of writers (like Hauerwas is), nor is he the most amusing. As a good "university man formed in the third quarter of this [= last] century," he is brusque and to-the-point. He cuts off side-points quickly and aims undistractedly at his central goal, which is the uncovering of the political content of Jesus' radical life-and-message.
Speaking in his context as a black sheep already (at least, I'm pretty sure there were no other Anabaptists employed by Notre Dame at the time), Yoder deftly navigates both historical-critical and evangelical approaches to Scripture in order to arrive at a complex, nuanced, holistic picture of Jesus' refutation to the "powers" of First Century political life, whether those "powers" were the Romans, the Pharisees, the high priests, or the Zealots.
Yoder's exegesis and observations are so thoroughly insightful that I (who have started reading theology from my contemporaries backward) take them for granted. This is Yoder's greatest legacy, theologically: forcing politically-engaged liberal Protestants to re-assess the centrality of Jesus and His unique death and resurrection, and forcing politically-estranged (at the time, of course) conservative evangelicals to re-assess that same Jesus' political presence. By now, so many of his cultural-hermeneutic insights have become the "ground floor" of Bible-background studies (e.g. C.S. Keener's IVP Bible Background Commentary New Testament).
Still, there are observations that occasion surprise that should gain more traction: Yoder's explication on why the "Powers" must crucify Jesus and how Jesus' radicalism is a real threat to their "power," his discourse on "power" more generally (contra, I must observe, Michel Foucault), his reading of Romans 13, and his landmark final chapter on Revelation, pre-figuring some of N.T. Wright's observations, all need additional attention (although some has already been brought by figures like Hauerwas). I recently read and reviewed Fleming Rutledge's The Crucifixion, and if I were to say one thing her work needed in addition, it is Yoder's practical, political reading of the crucifixion. (Not that she really needed to add anything to that perfect book!)
All this being said, a serious question mark (as mentioned earlier) can be well-placed atop Yoder's doctrine of "radical subordination." It has recently surfaced, and discussed at much depth, that Yoder was a serial sexual abuser. This is a serious contention to his works on ethics.
With other "failed" theologians or philosophers or thinkers, we can recognize the allure of pride or fame and perhaps easily pass over their failings. Martin Heidegger strikes me as one such example. Some would discard him because of his relations with the Nazi party, and, yet, Heidegger was never an actual Nazi. He is perhaps best understood (as many academics can be understood) as someone whose selfish, prideful, egoism blinded him to serious wickedness. Academics would be cautious to throw the first stone at him. We can see this too in theology with Karl Barth, whose marital infidelity brings to question his theological work; we seem to have no such trouble with inconsistencies in the marital faithfulness of other intellectuals.
But Yoder's insistence in his theology and ethics is a principle of rejecting violence, rejecting power, rejecting, in essence, Nietzsche's "will-to-power." He spent not only his whole life advocating for this claim theologically, but also proclaiming it in his lifestyle (something Hauerwas was often starry-eyed about). Yoder's sexual philandering (and more) was more than just a simple moral failure of a man who presumed himself "great" (like Heidegger's egoism), or than the oft-seen tragedy of infidelity that emerges when thinkers and leaders separate themselves time-and-again from their wives (like Barth's affair). Yoder's sexual indulgences are an epistemological threat to his whole project. If a Mennonite who thought and considered his Christian pacifism so thoroughly couldn't, at the same time, recognize his own, repeated, indiscretions, abuses, and assaults as contradictory to his rigid ethics, are those ethics even valid? Are they even possible?
I think Hauerwas has made much work in this regard, salvaging what is salvageable from Yoder's sinking ship (or, to mix metaphors, falling star). But it has left The Politics of Jesus, a great, masterful work, in purgatory, perhaps to be gutted and skinned as a fish, leaving only a skeleton behind on the side of the river while the flesh becomes something useful. One questions, at the end of the day, how the fish really died: was it the exposure to the air, or some mercury consumed long ago? And if it is the latter, should we really eat its meat?
Yoder's arguments are very compelling and now I understand why many Christians believe the church cannot support war at all in any circumstances. Yoder first argues that Jesus is socially relevant and that the way we are called to be like him is in the realm of social ethics. He concludes by explaining that we are called to the way of the cross, which means giving up any attempt to take control of history and instead obey in a radical way by submitting to suffering.
Possibly the most influential book in my spiritual development thus far... its value lies its cunning exposure of some very fundamental assumptions that we make when approaching God and determining what he wants from us.
Do not get side-tracked by his seemingly simplistic agenda towards non-violence. It is more nuanced than it appears at first look.