Kingdom Sloppy: Southern Baptists and Immigration Policy

‘Tis the season of thinking about the relations between evangelicalism and political conservatism thanks to the release of From Billy Graham to Sarah Palin. With such heightened sensitivity come examples that show fuzziness on the differences between the kingdoms of redemption and providence.

I begin with the reaction of Jerry Salyer to the recent Southern Baptist Resolution, “On Immigration and the Gospel,” a statement that in itself is a grab bag of truths that do not cohere either theologically or politically. Salyer writes:

One defender of the new SBC policy is Southern Baptist Seminary theologian Russell Moore, who declares in “Immigration and the Gospel” that “[t]he Christian response to the immigrant communities in this country cannot be ‘You kids get off my lawn’ in Spanish.” Up until now I have had nothing but respect for Moore – anyone who appreciates Berry and Genovese can’t be all bad – which is precisely why his trite and thoughtless remarks pain me so. Does he really mean that no Christian can offer an argument against mass-immigration better than that of Mr. Wilson from Dennis the Menace? Can one really dismiss so quickly classicist Thomas Fleming, or philosopher Roger Scruton? What about journalists like Tom Piatak, Patrick Buchanan, and Peter Hitchens?

Whether one ultimately agrees with the positions taken by immigration restrictionists is beside the point. The point is that the Southern Baptist leadership hide from their flock the fact that such positions even exist. Should we be concerned about, say, the socioeconomic consequences of a vastly expanded labor pool? Soaring crime rates? What about the implications of perpetual war with the Muslim world even as mosques simultaneously sprout all across the Midwest? How seriously should we take those activists who celebrate the Reconquista of “Aztlan”?

In other words, opposition to open borders may not simply be an expression of nativist prejudice. It may actually stem from plausible political considerations, such as these that Salyer quotes from James Kalb who recognizes that the motivations for unrestricted immigration may stem less from what is true or good or noble and more from economic and political interests:

Ruling elites . . . are concerned with the power and efficiency of governing institutions, the status and security of those who run them, and maintenance of the liberal principles that support and justify their rule. It is in their interest to expand the human resources available to them, even at the expense of those who are already citizens, and to weaken the mutual ties that make it possible for the people to resist rational management and to act somewhat independently.

The practical result of such influences has been the suppression of immigration as an issue in the interest of an emerging borderless world order. Restrictionist arguments are scantily presented in the mainstream media, and concern with cultural coherence, national identity, or even the well-being of one’s country’s workers is routinely denigrated as ignorant and racist nativism.

Whether you agree with Kalb’s skeptical analysis, it is a reminder that beyond the calls for making the gospel relevant or pursuing social justice are political considerations that religious idealism ignores. In which case, the book of redemption (which is silent on immigration policy) tells the book of nature (which has much to say) to “shut up.”

Why Evangelicals Aren't Conservative

Nothing like ending a good political argument by inserting divine wrath into the debate. Arizona’s new laws on illegal immigration are attracting attention on a variety of fronts. One of my favorite radio hosts, Phil Hendrie, who is by no means a conservative (and the funniest man on air), thinks the law is sane even while he thinks that Arizona is not the brightest bulb on the U.S. Christmas tree of states. He has commented specifically on the irony of liberals showing great distrust of the blue-collar, union-abiding workers also known as police, who will supposedly engage in racial profiling to enforce the law. Would liberals assume coal miners or truck drivers or automobile assemblers were as prone to misbehavior as cops? Phil doesn’t think so. And could this distrust of cops be the hangover from the days when liberals were young and radical and referred to police impolitely as pigs (which is not to say that police have not been without their thuggish moments).

And then along comes Jim Wallis (thanks to John Fea), doing his best impersonation of Charles Finney, with a press release calling the Arizona legislation immoral and wicked. (Wallis’ reaction is patently unloving, so much for a charitable read of his fellow citizens’ actions or motives.)

The law signed today by Arizona Gov. Brewer is a social and racial sin, and should be denounced as such by people of faith and conscience across the nation. It is not just about Arizona, but about all of us, and about what kind of country we want to be. It is not only mean-spirited – it will be ineffective and will only serve to further divide communities in Arizona, making everyone more fearful and less safe. This radical new measure, which crosses many moral and legal lines, is a clear demonstration of the fundamental mistake of separating enforcement from comprehensive immigration reform. Enforcement without reform of the system is merely cruel. Enforcement without compassion is immoral. Enforcement that breaks up families is unacceptable. This law will make it illegal to love your neighbor in Arizona, and will force us to disobey Jesus and his gospel. We will not comply.

I had thought that one of the hallmarks of political conservatism is respect for and promotion of the rule of law. This doesn’t mean that every law is good or that laws in the American form of government cannot be repealed or amended. But to say openly and without qualification that a duly constituted polity and its lawmakers need to be disobeyed is not very conservative or, for that matter, very biblical. Wallis seems to suffer the affliction of most evangelicals who, because they believe they know the contents of a higher law (or sense they are inhabited by the Holy Ghost, feathers and all), all lower laws can be disregarded. One wonders whether Wallis has ever considered telling illegal immigrants that living and working somewhere against the laws of that place is disobedient and sinful.

Don’t get me wrong. Evangelicals don’t have to be conservative (they certainly aren’t religiously). Being conservative politically is not the same thing as being Christian and if evangelicals prefer to be biblical rather than conservative, then God bless ‘em. But if they are going to be biblical, they might want to submit fully to God’s word when it says submit to the powers that be. And if they want to be conservative, then they better try a form of political argument that does not rush to inflict divine judgment. An appeal grounded in American law, both state and federal, would be good, for starters.

Update: Jon A. Shields, in his study of the democratic virtues of the Christian Right writes the following:

. . . the vast majority of Christian Right leaders have labored to inculcate deliberative norms in their rank-and-file activitists — especially the practice of civility and respect; the cultivation of real dialogue by listening and asking questions; the rejection of appeals to theology; and the practice of careful moral reasoning. Movement leaders teach theese norms because they have strong pragmatic incentives to do so. Public appeals, after all, are most persuasive when they are civil and reasonable. Movement leaders further ground these norms in scripture. For instance, activists are regularly instructed to practice civility because the Gospels command Christians to love their neighbors, and they are encouraged to be honest because God forbids believers from bearing false witness. (Shields, The Democratic Virtues of the Christian Right [2009], p. 2)

Shields makes this point to contrast the fundamentalist leaders of the Christian Right, like Falwell, from the rank-and-file evangelicals. I can’t imagine a better example of the difference between fundamentalism and evangelicalism than that between Falwell and Wallis. And yet when it comes to style and mixing theology and politics — not to mention the lack of charity for political foes — it’s hard to tell the difference.