Should Christians Apologize for National Sins?

I recently read a document entitled “A Statement of Confession and Commitment” signed by Christian academics from universities around the country, and I found myself underwhelmed. In fact, I thought this a good example of how selflessness and selfishness, and humility and pride, can get rather blurry. Allow me to explain.

The document begins by citing “longstanding national sins of racism, misogyny, nativism, and great economic disparity.” Its connection of these phenomena and the election is suggestive, but I am more concerned about what is meant by “national sins.” Nations have flaws; they don’t have sins. Only individuals have sins, and the guilt associated with said sins. I am guilty in Adam, and I am guilty in myself, of sin, but I am not guilty in the United States. To suggest I am implies that every US citizen, including those on both ends of “great economic disparity,” is guilty of these things, and that is a highly ostentatious claim to make about millions of people one has never met.

This slide in theology in favor of cultural relevance is part of a larger trend in the article. While these academics claim that they do not care “where Christians stand politically,” their asides on “propaganda,” “deportation,” “structural injustice,” and marginalization in “white Evangelical culture” strongly imply resentment towards, and assumptions about, the right side of the political spectrum in the wake of the last election. This would appear to be a fairly direct response.

This is where my larger problems emerge. This document seems, first off, more concerned with being against things than being for things. It talks about structural injustice, but its solution is apparently to be humble and love your neighbor, with no indication of how this would look. It doesn’t like the idea of deportation, but it does nothing to address the issues involved. It talks about women in white Evangelical culture, which 1) invents a problem for me I’ve never personally had and 2) offers me no concrete help. And so on. When you make a point of talking about the world’s problems, but fail to offer anything in terms of a solution, one may suspect that you are more concerned with establishing your progressiveness and humility than with actually fixing the problem.

This impression is only amplified when looked at in context. When I was in AP History in high school, we had what we called “document based questions,” where you were given several original sources, and you had to use your knowledge of historical context to determine their significance. Context is very important. And in today’s cultural context, I find yet another problem with this document: I think it is in danger of forgetting the point of Christianity in its attempt to be relevant.

Now, a lot of what the signatories say is entirely correct; I have no disagreement with most of their points, only the way they weave them together. They seem to cherry-pick passages that sound most accommodating to modern culture, and never go beyond them. Christ did say we are to be humble; Paul did say that we see through a glass darkly; but these little phrases seem to be mere Christian trimming on a largely social and political statement. And Christianity is not a means to a social and political end; to make it one is to miss the point.

For this reason I was born, and for this reason I came into the world: to rectify great economic disparity? To fight against longstanding national sins? To end environmental abuse? To eradicate systematic injustice? Christ certainly did not come to perpetuate these things, but he came first and foremost to save our souls; our society comes in at a distant second. Should I treat the least of these with compassion and respect? Of course. Should I stand up against cruelty, because of prejudice or anything else? Of course. But that is Christianity’s result, not its raison d’etre.

I assume the signatories did not mean to imply this; they are simply building a bridge to populations who feel that Christianity has left them by the wayside. But there is no point in building a bridge if the bridge never goes to anywhere. We at times become so fixated on connecting with people, we never do anything with that connection, and the outer world does not think “I should come around to Christianity;” it rather thinks, “glad the Christians have finally come around to my way of thinking.” Christianity is not here to validate society’s best intentions; it did not come to bring peace, but a sword.

Christianity, at its heart, is disturbing. I am reminded of John Wayne’s words: “I’ve been called a lot of things, but comfortable?!” Christ was at once against all and for all. It was the mob along with the corrupt rulers who wanted him crucified, and it was Pharisees as well as tax collectors whom he saved. When Judas chastised Jesus for wasting luxuries that could have helped provide for the poor (the writer drily notes Judas’ ulterior motives), Jesus did not agree; he rather shockingly said “the poor you will have with you always; me you will not have always.”

Paul did not roam the world insisting that the slaves be freed and women be treated equally. That is certainly a result of the teachings of Christianity, and something very important, but it is not the center. If I make it the center, I’ve lost the truth, and that will in the end only hurt the people I seek to help. The signatories may very well agree with me, but the lack of a clear path to either social justice or Christian truth in this message makes their statement look more like sentimental show or political posturing than actual concern with the matters at hand.