Christ and Culture

The relationship between Christians and the larger society has always been a complicated one. Unwelcomed in the Jewish culture from which it emerged and actively persecuted by Roman authorities who saw in Christianity a rival for loyalty, the Faith would become the unifying feature among the peoples who comprised the Holy Roman Empire in the so-called “Middle Ages” before losing much of its political (and social) influence in Europe after the Reformation and in our post-modern world. 

If the influence and role of the Church—and by extension Christians—in society has changed over time, one thing hasn’t: the uneasy relationship between the Christian kerygma and the mores of society. 

In 1951 American theologian H. Richard Niebuhr wrote what has become one of the most influential books in what has become known as the “social gospel” movement in America. Written in the wake of the cataclysm that was the Second World War, much like Vatican II it looked to explore the role of Christians in a diverse and rapidly changing society.

His book “Christ and Culture” was Niebuhr's attempt to explore this complicated relationship and to offer a vision for Christians in the modern world. “Modern,” of course, is a slippery term and the book itself is closing upon the 75th anniversary of its publication. Nonetheless I think that Niebuhr's assessment is as relevant and his challenge remains as instructive today as it was all those years ago.

Using history and sociology as his backdrop, Niebuhr notes five approaches that members of the Christian faith have taken in their relationship vis-à-vis the larger society. These models, he labelled as: 1) Christ against culture; 2) Christ of culture; 3) Christ and culture in paradox; 4) Christ above culture; and 5) Christ the transformer of culture. In my mind, while he seems to reject some of them, he gives all of them a fair hearing before coming to an implicit conclusion about which approach is best: a conclusion, I believe, which echoes the social teaching of the Catholic Church.

On one side of the spectrum is the approach he calls “Christ against culture” which, he observes, “resolutely rejects culture’s claims to loyalty.” There is a clear conflict, in this view, between the obligations of Christian faith and those of society. It is attractive in many ways, but—as Niebuhr points out—Jesus didn’t create a separatist community.

On the other end of the spectrum is what he calls the “Christ of culture.” Proponents of this view see little or no conflict “...between church and world, the social laws and the Gospel.” The goodness of the world is taken for granted here and, in practical terms, when there seems to be a conflict between the message of Jesus and that of “the world,” the world wins.

We’ve seen where that has led us.

“Christ and culture in paradox” claims that all human action—even the most noble—is tainted by original sin. This includes the creation and development of human communities. Corruption in government and conflicts among neighbors are inevitable in this view. Recognizing that Christians nonetheless have an obligation to live in the larger society, this essentially calls us to do the best we can as believers, but to be suspicious of the motives and policies of our leaders. That said, it does recognize that the larger, secular culture promotes both good and (because of sin) evil. This is the philosophy of Christians who speak of the “Culture War” being waged in contemporary society.

The fourth view is the “Christ above culture” model. This position recognizes that although there lies a gulf between Christianity and secular culture (like the “Christ and culture in paradox” model above), Christ and His Church can and do use the traditions and mores of the cultures to promote the Gospel. In this view there is an inherent goodness within secular culture on its own which leads us to a certain degree of happiness and flourishing. There can be good, beneficial societies on their own. But to reach its potential to promote full human flourishing, the culture nonetheless needs the message and grace of Christ.

Finally, Niebuhr claims that all of the models, including the one with which he concludes his study, can be validly supported within the Christian tradition. While he does not favor one view over the other, he seems to give primacy of place to the vision of Christ as a “transformer of culture.” Like the “Christ above culture” position, this view holds that there is good in culture, in what theologians have called “unaided reason,” and in human law. But it also sees that there is evil there too—evil that needs the distinctively Christian message and work of Christ in order to be purged. Human effort alone is not enough. For the believer, this means being active in politics, labor, etc., without at the same time identifying the Christian faith with any specific political party or a social movement.

In our day and age I think the idea of trying to transform our culture in light of Jesus is the best avenue to pursue. Respectful, always, of people’s consciences and religious beliefs, Christians in general—and Catholics in particular–have an opportunity and an obligation to share the message of Jesus and His way of living with others. That the voice of Pope Leo and the US bishops seem to be getting a broader and fairer hearing these days suggests that our fellow citizens may be ready for that message.

Regardless, there is a tendency these days to uncritically ally ourselves with one side or the other of our cultural and political divide or to try to absent ourselves from the discussion altogether. We do well to remember that our baptisms and conformations call us to join in the prophetic role of the Church—to stand above partisanship and call our brothers and sisters to what is good and just. Moreover, simply “going with the flow” is the realm of sewage, not thinking, loving people.

Personally, while I disagree with some of the implications of Niebuhr’s thought, the idea that the role of the Christian is to transform society is a good one. As I have written elsewhere, I think that Jesus calling his disciples to be “salt” and “light” is an image worth reflecting on as we continue to struggle through these times and heed the call to go out into the larger society, into what theologian Richard John Neuhaus called the “Public Square.” 

Salt, we remember, preserves things but it also brings out new flavors in what it seasons and it changes it to a greater or lesser extent. Extending the image, we can see that it is therefore both “conservative” and “liberal.” Moreover, in telling His disciples that we are “the light of the world” Jesus calls us to reflect on what light does: it illuminates, it shows things for what they are. As such, we see in metaphor the prophetic role of the Church. Moreover the fire from which light arises also warms: it sustains life. But it also purifies. All of this our world needs. Perhaps this is what St Ignatius meant when he missioned his companions to “Go and set the world on fire.” 

To transform something is to recognize and preserve what is good in it and to get rid of what isn’t. It is building a good society: a society defined by journalist Walter Lippmann as one “where it is easy to be good,” Christians have to love their communities. Communities—societies, cultures—after all are nothing more than collections of people. People we are called to love, even when they seem unlovable because of their opinions or actions.

God made the world and the people in it. There is an inherent goodness within society, even if that goodness has been tainted with selfishness, hatred, and greed at times. We do well to remember the prayer Jesus gave us as we navigate our way in the world. Every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer, we ask Him to help bring about a world where the Father’s will might be done “on earth as it is in heaven.” 

He made the world, He can (and will) perfect it.

But He won’t do it without us.

A.M.D.G. /B.V.M.H.