Wayne Grudem, Donald Trump, and Christian Politics

I really try not to write about politics. I think there are enough people arguing back and forth about politics already, and I’m just not interested in turning this into a political blog. But a family member shared “Letter to an Anti-Trump Christian Friend,” by well-known theologian and ethicist Wayne Grudem, so I thought I’d write a reply.

Of course, Grudem will never read it. He no doubt has better things to do. :-) But, if nothing else, it helps organize my own thinking. Maybe it will help others. Before we get into it, I’d like to repeat Bob Russell’s words from four years ago:

PRACTICE UNITY! — It’s discouraging to witness how acrimonious some Christians have been toward fellow believers who disagree with them about this election. Even though the Bible instructs us to “Let your gentleness be evident to all,” ugly, demeaning rhetoric is used to attack those in the opposite camp…

I’m a Christian before I’m an American. I love my son and I have profound respect for Dr. Mohler and Max Lucado. They are not mindless or self-righteous because they disagree with me. They are members of my family…and will continue to be long after the election is over.

Whatever we believe about this, practicing love and unity within the body of Christ is more important.

Policy and character: Grudem writes a long reply to his friend “Zachary,” and yet I’m afraid that he spends little time actually engaging with his friend’s arguments. Zachary’s entire argument, it seems, is that Trump’s character is such that we shouldn’t support him. Grudem spends a great deal of time instead talking about Trump’s policies. Grudem acknowledges that we can’t ignore character:

There is a minimal standard of behavior which, if a candidate falls below it, would disqualify a candidate from governmental office.

And yet he views this assessment of character as a matter of personal disagreement, almost a matter of personal opinion, rather than something about which we can make pronouncements as Christians:

Can we least agree that the evaluation of a person’s character is a complex process that requires wise judgments based on a wide variety of factors, and that people can legitimately disagree in their honest assessments of someone else’s character?… You may think that Trump has fallen beneath such a standard [of fitness for office]. I do not. But this is a judgment call that each person has to make - about every candidate.

And much of Grudem’s open letter focuses on policy, and when a colleague asked Grudem what it would take for Trump to lose Grudem’s support, Grudem’s answer solely discussed policy.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I’m on Zachary’s side: I believe that Trump’s character is such that he should not be president. But, in the interest of dialog and better understanding the perspectives of my brothers and sisters, I would like to know what Grudem (or others who agree with him) would consider to be the minimum standard of character that’s needed to serve as president. In 2016, Grudem wrote:

[Trump] is egotistical, bombastic, and brash. He often lacks nuance in his statements. Sometimes he blurts out mistaken ideas (such as bombing the families of terrorists) that he later must abandon. He insults people. He can be vindictive when people attack him. He has been slow to disown and rebuke the wrongful words and actions of some angry fringe supporters. He has been married three times and claims to have been unfaithful in his marriages.

After the Access Hollywood tapes came out, Grudem went further (although he partially retracted that):

His vulgar comments in 2005 about his sexual aggression and assaults against women were morally evil and revealed pride in conduct that violates God’s command, “You shall not commit adultery” (Exodus 20:14). I have now read transcripts of some of his obscene interviews with Howard Stern, and they turned my stomach. His conduct was hateful in God’s eyes and I urge him to repent and call out to God for forgiveness, and to seek forgiveness from those he harmed. God intends that men honor and respect women, not abuse them as sexual objects.

If this assessment of Trump’s character, from a Christian who supports Trump, is accurate - that he’s prideful, impulsive, vindictive, and insulting, that he was obscene and stomach-turning and thrice married and unfaithful to his spouse, that at the age of 59 he bragged on tape of sexual assault and then, when it nearly destroyed his campaign, gave an apology that fell far short of “repenting and calling out to God for forgiveness and seeking forgiveness from those he harmed” - and yet that meets the minimum standard of character for the presidency, then what is that minimum standard of behavior?

Would you hire an employee who demonstrated this character?

And I’d go even further than Grudem. I believe that Trump has demonstrated a willingness to bend or break the rules to get ahead. I believe that he’s not honest. I believe that he incites division. I believe that he’s demonstrated a disregard for American democratic ideals. (And I’d be happy to discuss any or all of this - preferably over a cup of coffee or, in these COVID times, a Zoom call, because blog posts and Facebook comments don’t lend themselves to productive dialog. Getting into it further here would be too much of a digression; this is not a political blog.)

It may sound like I’m making an anti-Trump argument here. And I am, somewhat. But I’m also honestly trying to understand - if character matters, if character can disqualify a person, then what does that look like? If a fellow believer can come to a radically different conclusion about Trump’s character, then why do we differ?

I’m afraid that part of the problem is that we look for the worst in our enemies while denying the flaws in those we support. I love how C.S. Lewis phrases it in Mere Christianity, when he talks about forgiving your enemy:

Suppose one reads a story of filthy atrocities in the paper. Then suppose that something turns up suggesting that the story might not be quite true, or not quite so bad as it was made out. Is one’s first feeling, “Thank God, even they aren’t quite so bad as that,” or is it a feeling of disappointment, and even a determination to cling to the first story for the sheer pleasure of thinking your enemies as bad as possible? If it is the second then it is, I am afraid, the first step in a process which, if followed to the end, will make us into devils. You see, one is beginning to wish that black was a little blacker. If we give that wish its head, later on we shall wish to see grey as black, and then white itself as black. Finally, we shall insist on seeing everything - God and our friends and ourselves included - as bad, and not be able to stop doing it: we shall be fixed for ever in a universe of pure hatred.

And the converse can be true as well - we can find ourselves rationalizing or excusing, calling black white, if it’s in someone who we like or whose policies we support.

If you’re an opponent of Trump, then are you magnifying his flaws? If you’re a supporter, are you overlooking them? How would you feel if similar accusations were made against (depending on where you lie on the political spectrum) Reagan, Clinton, Bush, or Obama?

The media and bias: Grudem suggests that much of the reason that Zachary and others are so opposed to Trump is because of the how the mainstream media portrays him:

This approach [of attacking Trump] has been helped by a shamefully biased mainstream media including the New York Times, the Washington Post, CNN, NBC, CBS, and ABC. I receive a newsfeed each morning from the New York Times and the Washington Post, and their blatantly biased reporting reveals a hostility toward President Trump unlike anything I’ve seen regarding any other political leader in my lifetime. Therefore it does not surprise me if, after 3 ½ years of listening to this constant character assassination by the dominant media forces in the country, many people distrust Donald Trump.

I would agree that the media is quite hostile toward Trump. By itself, though, that doesn’t tell us much. If, for the sake of argument, we assume that a political leader is a dynamic and effective proponent of a political agenda, and the media outlets are dominated by people of the opposite ideology, and they consciously or unconsciously let that ideology direct and influence their reporting, then we’d expect the media to be very critical of that politician. But if, for the sake of argument, we assume that a political leader is exceptionally dishonest or self-serving, or that he demonstrates uniquely poor judgment or is a negative influence on a democracy, then we’d also expect the media to be very critical of that politician. So the question of media bias doesn’t really solve anything; in effect, we’re back where we started - trying to make sense of the man’s character.

More broadly, Grudem spends a lot of time talking about the Left versus the conservatives, Democrats versus Republicans, etc., where the Democrats are straying from Christian values, being driven by hatred, attacking the innocent, etc. And he’s certainly not the only one on the right to talk this way. And folks on the left, of course, aren’t shy about attacking folks on the right - as underinformed, prejudiced, disregarding the poor and oppressed, and so on.

I’ve realized that I have much less of an us-versus-them view of politics. Certainly, we have our policy differences, and those policy differences are real and important. And there are no doubt bad actors on both sides. But most of the people on the left, I think, are trying to do what’s right, to help the disadvantaged and those different than them as best they know how (the LGBT community, racial minorities, the poor, etc.). Most of the people on the right, I think, are trying to do what’s right, to make the country better for everyone as best they know how (by upholding rights and principles, by providing the poor with fulfilling jobs and economic growth and meaningful opportunity, etc.).

In other words, we’re fallen sinners, made in the image of God. And so, even in our fallenness, we can try for the good, and even when we’re trying to do good, it can be tainted by sin and self-deception. To quote Alexander Solzhenitsyn:

The line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either — but right through every human heart — and through all human hearts.

(I’d like to develop this further in a future post. Maybe someday. Sorry to leave you hanging.)

But let’s talk about policy: Like Grudem’s friend Zachary, I’d prefer to not talk much about specific policies. This is not (contrary to current appearances) a political blog. But Grudem writes, “I’m seeking to influence politics because of the Bible, because of my conviction that the Bible speaks to all of life.” And I wholeheartedly agree that the Bible and our faith speaks to all of life, so we can’t ignore policy. So, what policies should we support?

As a Christian, I believe that the Bible is God’s Word. But I also believe that the Bible is at times hard to understand. (Even Peter thought so! (2 Pe 3:16)) As a Christian, I believe in absolute truth. But I also believe that my handle on that truth is limited; I “see in a mirror dimly” (1 Cor 13:12).

I’ve seen faithful Christians disagree countless times. My grandfather, who I profoundly respect as one of the finest Christians I’ve known, confided once after hearing a message that he preferred that speakers read from a Bible, rather than recite from memory, because it emphasizes the authority of Scripture as the written Word of God. Some time later, I heard of some African tribe’s church services (sadly, I do not remember any specifics) where they preferred that speakers recite Scripture from memory, because it shows that they’ve “hidden God’s word in their heart” (Ps 119:11). Which perspective is right? Both are, in their own way, and in their own time. And I doubt that either my grandfather or these Africans would judge the other; each is trying to glorify Christ to the best of their ability.

And Christian disagreements about the right or best way to live life can become much more involved than this. Clement of Alexandria, a 2nd century Christian theologian, tried to derive from Scripture a complete guide for living our lives. For example, he forbade men to pluck or shave their beards; since God has numbered the hairs on our heads (Mt 10:30), it would be wrong for us to alter that number.

Few people today would agree with Clement, but I’m afraid that some of our policy discussions go down similar lines. There are some principles and practices that I believe are very clear from Scripture. The importance of honesty and integrity in personal and business dealings. Contentment and a limited regard for material goods. Faithfulness to one’s spouse. Humility. Love for others. For me, abortion falls in the “very clear” category: humans are created in the image of God, and so human life is sacred, regardless of the stage of human life. But other principles and practices are much less clear. The left says that the best way to care for the poor is by raising taxes and increasing government social programs. The right says that the best way to care for the poor is by maximizing individual freedoms and opportunities and promoting economic growth. Who’s right? I don’t know! Poverty is a wicked problem. In a sense, both the left and the right are wrong: Jesus promises that poverty will always exist (Mt 26:11), and so while it’s good and important to discuss how we can help, no approach can be fully successful.

In his discussion of Christian political values, Grudem doesn’t seem to distinguish between the clear and the debatable. He lists clear moral issues (freedom of conscience and protecting the unborn) alongside political questions such as building our military, how our foreign policy should relate to Israel and China, and energy policy. At best, those are complex issues. (Some Christians may argue that a strong military is good; others question the stewardship of spending more on our military than the next ten countries combined; still others present powerful moral and spiritual arguments for pacifism. Some Christians argue that, because of God’s promises to Abraham, we should support the modern-day nation of Israel; others point out the significant theological questions involved in the relationship between the Old Testament people of God, the church as the New Testament people of God, and the modern-day nominally religious nation state of Israel.) At worst, these questions are purely temporary and political: protecting the environment is Biblical, but what that looks like in a technologically advanced 21st century democracy is a political question rather than something directly commanded by Scripture. Deciding that it’s okay to have public schools and roads and fire departments but not public health care may be a wise policy, but it’s not an area where theology sheds much light. A few centuries from now (if Jesus doesn’t return), will Christians look back at our clear moral pronouncements on Constitutional originalism and fracking and waterway rights and transgender bathrooms with the same bemusement that we feel toward Clement’s hair-counting rules?

I’m not trying to say that these questions are unimportant or aren’t worth debating. And they’re certainly areas where we can and should apply Christian values and Christian wisdom. But there’s a huge difference between advocating positions as a Christian, in an effort to live out our faith, and advocating positions by claiming that they’re Christian policies - which seems to be what Grudem is doing. And note that the areas where Christian values are clearest are in the realm of Trump’s character, while the areas where things are murkier and more debatable correspond more to Trump’s policies - that adds risk to using the latter to tolerate the former.

And, if I may make one more critique: The Word of God is “sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow” (Heb 4:12). I am a sinner. If I hold the Word of God up to my life, I expect to be cut - to see actions and beliefs in my life where I fall short of God’s standard. If I hold the Word of God up to a secular organization like the Republican or Democratic party, I expect it to cut even more. In rereading Grudem’s list of Christian policies, I cannot help but notice that they align almost completely with the Republican party’s agenda. I do not want to judge Grudem here or question his motives - that’s not my purpose or role - but we’re all capable of self-deception (Jer. 17:9), and we all need to take care that we’re evaluating our lives and beliefs in the light of Scripture, instead of using Scripture to justify our lives and beliefs.

Taking the third option: Grudem writes that we have only two choices: Trump or Biden. But we always have choices. (I’d even argue that, in almost any context, saying “we have no choices” is a great lie.) I can vote third party. I can write in a vote for someone I’d rather have. I can write in a vote for Harambe. I can abstain. I can move to Canada.

Some of those aren’t good choices. None of them are likely to affect the overwhelming likelihood that either Trump or Biden will be president. But the fact is that my voting for Trump or Biden is also unlikely to affect whether Trump or Biden will be president. No major election has been decided by a single vote. Tennessee is a winner-take-all state where Trump won by over 650,000 votes in 2016. “Ah,” you may argue, “but what if some scenario happens this year where the election is decided by an incredibly small margin, as in Florida in 2000?” But hypothetical scenarios cut both ways; I can also imagine scenarios where an effective third-party candidate has a shot at winning but doesn’t get the votes because everyone makes the “pragmatic” decision to vote for one of the two major candidates. It sometimes feels as if I’m being told both that my vote is both too powerful (because dire consequences will happen if a major party doesn’t get it) and too weak (because I’d be “throwing it away” by not voting for a major party). I’d much rather act how I truly want and trust others to act how they truly want. Even a write-in vote or abstaining isn’t a waste; it’s a way - maybe not the best way - of letting the major parties know that they’re failing to appeal to voters.

Grudem argues that a Trump victory would bring great good, while a Biden victory would bring great harm. But the fact is that we can’t know what the outcome of our actions would be. Maybe a Biden victory would allow radical left policies to dominate; maybe Biden would govern as a moderate (as he’s been for his entire political career); maybe he’d even be able to reign in the Democrats’ progressive wing in a way that persists beyond his presidency. Maybe a Trump victory would be as good as Grudem argues; maybe it would be as bad as Grudem’s friend Zachary argues. Maybe a Trump victory would further cement his combative and controversial style of conservatism (both allies and opponents, I think, can agree that he’s a combative and controversial figure) in a way that alienates moderates and emboldens opposition and ends up costing conservatism greater losses down the road, while a defeat would allow room for newer, more winsome and persuasive approaches. Which outcome or outcomes are likely is an important discussion, and it can and should influence our vote. But too much of the debate takes on the tone of fearmongering - “Here are all of of the terrible, dire consequences that will happen if my side doesn’t win!” - rather than an honest discussion. As Christians, we act as best we can, without fearing the consequences. God promises to take care of us (as Dallas Willard wrote, “This present world is a perfectly safe place for us to be”), and God promises to make all things right, and so the worst possible outcome is merely a temporary unpleasantness.

Of course, for Christians, looking at outcomes is only part of the story; we also believe that some actions are inherently right or wrong. Grudem acknowledges this (“I firmly believe that we as Christians should never intentionally sin in order to bring about what we think to be a good result… but I see nothing wrong with speaking and writing in support of a certain political position or political candidate”). Somewhat surprisingly, though, he doesn’t acknowledge it in his discussion about how our only two choices are Biden or Trump. This is a critical question for a Christian ethicist. For me, I believe that Trump’s flaws are significant enough that I cannot say that I support / want / am in favor of him being president, so I cannot vote for him with a clear conscience. In 2016, I believed that Clinton’s flaws were significant enough that I could not, with a clear conscience, support her being president.

And, to be totally honest and transparent, I have trouble understanding how other believers can support Trump. That has at times been a struggle for me over these last few years. But Scripture seems to allow room for us to follow our individual consciences without dictating that we all agree (Rom 14, 1 Cor 8). We don’t necessarily have to see eye-to-eye, as long as we love each other and work together for Christ and his kingdom.

What about our witness?: That brings me, in a roundabout way, to my last concern with all of this - are our actions helping or hurting the kingdom?

Grudem is a thorough and prolific scholar. I’ve read parts of his 1264-page magnum opus, Systematic Theology. I’ve read excerpts from his 1296-page book, Christian Ethics. In his open letter to Zachary, he references his 625-page book, Politics According to the Bible, where he lays out much of his rationale for his political views. I don’t always agree with him, but that’s okay; it’s not my place to judge his views (Rom 14:4), and he’s still my brother in Christ.

My concern, though, is that most unbelievers aren’t going to follow Grudem’s thousands of pages of painstaking Biblical reasoning, or, on this topic, his careful distinctions between disapproving of Trump’s character while supporting Trump as a candidate, of saying in 2016 that Trump is “morally objectionable” and “not morally good” but that supporting him is morally good. To much of the unbelieving world, the situation is much simpler:

Or, to make the comparison more pointed:

And I believe that this is a fair comparison and a fair view. And I’m trying to state it as factually as possible, without starting an argument or passing judgment. And I know that we can present all sorts of reasons and explanations for why we’ve done it, but I’m afraid it will unavoidably hurt our witness. And if we drive people away from the beauty and love of Christ’s kingdom and toward a Christless eternity in hell out of our desire to see Republican political goals triumph over Democratic policy goals, then that’s tragic, no matter how good our reasons and explanations are, and no matter how much good comes from those policy goals, even if the good could somehow outweigh the harm.

So what’s the point?: Believe it or not, I’m not trying to convince anyone how to vote. I doubt that’s possible at this point, regardless; I think everyone’s minds were made up a long time ago. So where do we go from here? A few suggestions:

I love all of you, my brothers and sisters who are reading this, whatever you feel about Trump. And if I’ve hurt or angered anyone by any of this, I ask your forgiveness. God bless.