I should first note that this tension, which I’ve expressed as a tension between my duties as a Christian and a citizen, is a fault line within broader conservatism. Modern American conservatism is an amalgamation of classical liberalism and evangelical populism. Classic liberalism (or libertarianism to use its modern label) as formulated by Adam Smith enshrines the free market, individual rights, and is skeptical of interventionist government. Evangelical populism (or social conservatism) seeks to enforce communal norms that are constructed from Biblical proscriptions. Perhaps you can already see the source of my cognitive dissonance.

These two streams of modern conservatism come into conflict over the role of the State. Libertarians believe that State action is at best inefficient and at worst in violation of individual rights. Social conservatives, on the other hand, have no problem with State intervention. For many on the Religious Right, the question is a matter of how rather than whether the State should intervene. The social conservative believes that the State is a legitimate vehicle for enforcing moral conformity. (I would also argue that the social liberal is simply the mirror image of his right-wing opponent, but that argument deserves its own post.) Returning to my own personal experience, I found myself giving a debate speech declaring the evils of government intervention in the economy in one breath and in the next arguing for stricter government regulation of marriage.

Now, I am an expert at compartmentalizing contradictions – I find it disturbingly easy to spend a Sunday morning in hypocritical worship without repenting of known sin – but this tension nagged at me all through college. Most people that I knew gave no evidence of having even considered the question. A number of my acquaintances resolved the dilemma for themselves by advocating for some form of dominionism whereby the state effectively becomes an extension of the church. Even prior to becoming a libertarian, I could not follow this path; I was uncomfortable with the Christian reconstructionist’s lofty view of the state.

I eventually recognized that I had a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of morality. In my mind I had been equating morality with moral behavior. See, the most government can ever hope to legislate is conformity, adherence to laws and regulations [though a cursory review of our war on drugs should raise big questions regarding governments efficacy at enforcing conformity]. Government, even in the most repressive societies, cannot legislate our motivations or our beliefs.

I then realized that the source of the tension between my political self and my theological self was a clash of definitions. What did it mean to be moral? Or to put it in Biblical parlance, what did it mean to be righteous? In politics I was supporting a definition of morality which was synonymous with conformity. Government would prevent people from acting in a certain manner and promote moral ways of behaving. Obedience to law was equivalent with morality. But my theology told me something very different. Christ’s righteousness was given, not earned. Righteousness certainly was not equivalent with moral behavior; that is the path of the legalist. The legalist tells us that if we can get someone to behave in a certain manner they will be moral. But Christ taught that righteousness is heart-centered rather than behavior-centered. 

This longstanding tension relaxed as I merged my political and theological thinking. Government cannot legislate morality because the State can do nothing more than regulate external behavior. No matter how many laws that we pass which prohibit vice, our country becomes no more moral in God’s eyes. For example, simply preventing homosexuals from marrying does not somehow make America more pleasing to God. Government legislation can only hope to discourage actual homosexual acts. It cannot prevent homosexuality in the heart. I do believe that homosexuality is a sin before God, but using the government to prevent external manifestations of sin does nothing to satisfy God’s standard of holiness. Government cannot make a sinful heart righteous – only the gracious offer of redemption at the Cross can do that. By confusing righteousness with external conformity we have reflected poorly on the gospel. From our pulpits we loudly proclaim salvation by faith and not by works, but in our politics we whisper, “behave in x manner rather than y in order to be moral and thus more pleasing to God.” We have become political legalists.

The conflict over homosexuals’ right to marry exemplifies the damage that we have caused. In California, Proposition 8 excluded same-sex couples from the legal rights of marriage. Now, in a narrow sense I would defend Proposition 8 from the judicial end-runs of its opponents, but I wish that Proposition 8 had never been passed and that evangelicals had not been complicit in its passage. As believers we should not be afraid of giving offense for the gospel’s sake. Certainly, those who do not believe in Christ will not take kindly to being confronted with their sin. But this principle does not give Christians carte blanche for giving offense. We must strive to give offense only because we preach Christ, not because of our methods or manner. But do we communicate Christ’s love by denying civil rights to homosexuals? Is Christ magnified when we make homosexuals second-class citizens?

The root problem with our opposition to homosexual marriage is not that we believe homosexuality is wrong. The fundamental problem with our opposition to homosexual marriage is that we have confused the kingdom of God and the kingdom of man. We are trying to use the State to delineate the Church. But when we combine Church and State we run the risk of blending the two. Thus we have made marriage, a biblical covenant between two individuals and God, something to be regulated and defined by civil government. Today, it is the State that marries us, not the minister.

This little example of blending illustrates a far bigger problem; I believe that we have come to equate American citizenship with heavenly citizenship. Now it is true that American Christians are citizens of both kingdoms, but the requirements for each must remain distinct. That seems so obvious it sounds silly, but when we conflate the kingdoms we blur the distinctions between the two. Want to be a full citizen of the United States? Well you’d better not be a homosexual (we won’t let you marry) or an atheist (we won’t let you hold office). Blurring the lines between the kingdoms of God and man ignores Christ’s proclamation, “My kingdom is not of this world.” Do we not then err when we attempt to make it so?

I became a libertarian because I realized that our rights and responsibilities as Christians are different from our rights and responsibilities as Americans. Being a libertarian gives me the freedom to fully embrace both identities. I can defend the civil right of homosexuals to marry while simultaneously preaching to them their sin and need of a Savior. I can vote for a politician while realizing that no amount of legislation, no matter how effective, can make our nation more pleasing to God. I can evangelize the lost while fully aware that as the gospel changes hearts it will make us better citizens.

But when we wrongly define Biblical morality or blend church and state we distort the gospel. Our faith in Christ transcends the kingdom of man. Like the Apostle Paul we eschew hope in “earthly things” and proclaim that “our [pre-eminent] citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Aunt Rachel when she was dating Uncle Jack.

Rachel Grace Smith Matzko, 65, of 17 Professors Place, Greenville, died July 28, 2009 of cancer initially diagnosed in 2002. 

Born on October 21, 1943 in Rockford, Illinois, she was the daughter of the late Robert Harrison and Esther Robinson Smith. 

She was a graduate of Bob Jones University (B.A., 1968, B.S., 1970) and earned an M.A. in English from Clemson University in 1979.  She taught English composition and literature at Bob Jones Academy and Bob Jones University for more than 35 years.

She accepted Jesus Christ as her personal Savior when she was twelve.  At her death, she was a member of Faith Free Presbyterian Church, Greenville.

She easily accommodated to her husband’s interest in history and enjoyed working with him as a seasonal employee of the National Park Service at sites in Virginia, North Dakota, and Nebraska.

Modest and unassuming by nature, she was also diligent and persistent.  By working her way through college, she became the first member of her family to earn a degree.  She met the challenges of her final illness with the same unpretentious resolve with which she served at home and in the classroom.

Survivors include her husband, John Matzko of the home, a son, Austin Matzko, and his wife, Melita McMasters Matzko of Nashville, Tennessee; four sisters, Margaret McMillan of Beloit, Wisconsin; Esther Arletta Locascio of Loves Park, Illinois; Althea Wright of Waupaca, Wisconsin, and Lois Smith of Greenville; two brothers Burton Smith of Roscoe, Illinois; and William Smith of Rockford, Illinois; three grandchildren, Samuel, Margaret, and Benjamin Matzko.

The funeral service will be at 10: 30 a.m. Saturday at Faith Free Presbyterian Church.  Internment will follow in Woodlawn Memorial Park.

The family will receive friends Friday from 6 until 8 p.m. at Mackey Mortuary.

In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to the Timothy Scholarship Program of Bob Jones University.

Rachel took into her first cancer surgery and the final period of physical decline Psalm 73:26: “My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” 

Both Lincoln and I have graduated from Bob Jones University and gone on to pursue religious history in graduate school (he at Brandeis and myself at Temple). Lincoln specializes in colonial religious history (ie Puritans) while I focus on fundamentalism and evangelicalism in twentieth century America.

1. All truth is God’s truth. My dad is an analytical chemist. He firmly believes that you can rejoice in God by studying molecules, thermodynamics, and chemical reactions. In some Christian circles families place pressure on their young people to go into the formal ministry. I never received anything but encouragement from my dad as I pursued becoming a historian. He understood that God is most magnified when we choose the vocation where we can best exercise our God-given abilities for His honor and glory.

2. My Dad lived out his desire for service. Just because he was a chemist he felt no less an obligation to live out the Great Commission. My parents have led missions teams and participated in camp ministries for 28 of the last 29 summers in Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, Michigan, and Australia. He made a point of always ministering as a family so that family and ministry stayed in the same sphere.

3. My Dad taught me that monetary gain ought to be a low priority. He left a highpaying job in industry for a lowpaying job at a Christian university because he believed that the Lord wanted him to educate Christian young people for service. Both my parents chose to save during the year to spend money on summer ministries rather than working during the summer to save for luxuries.

4. My Dad knows that the best way to make others laugh and feel at ease is to make fun of yourself. He has a well-developed sense of self-deprecating humor. His baldness and ample stomach have broken the ice in many conversations. He is also a bit impish; he enjoys challenging preconceived notions and upsetting shibboleths. He taught me not to take myself too seriously. God finds us pretty funny at times…the least we can do is be willing to laugh at ourselves!

5. Most importantly, my Dad taught me the importance of depending on God. I would frequently go downstairs on the way to school to find my father reading the Word or praying. How can I not be thankful for an earthly father who was aware of his need for a heavenly Father? Is that not the greatest gift a son could ask for from his dad?

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.