In the last post I made the case that white evangelicals feel a sense of oppression around public education because of the very real and (in most cases) very necessary loss of power in the public school the last 60 years. Instead of critically analyzing how we had such ownership for so long, church leaders took the loss as an attack on Christianity and gave cover for those who felt it as an attack on whiteness. In this article I’d like to argue that not only should we resist reactive theology, but this shift in authority can be a healthy recognition of a Biblical truth: public schools are not ours, because nothing on this earth is ours. Knowing this, Christians have a roadmap to interacting with our communities—believers and non-believers.
Jeremiah 29 has been really helpful to my view of how Christians should engage in the world around them. The chapter is written to Jews exiled to Babylon as a result of the generations of rebellion against God. Babylon had invaded Judah and Jerusalem twice before and each time had taken captives. Families had been ripped from their homes and forcefully moved to a strange land with neighbors who did not participate in, and a government that did not legitimize, their religion. In this destabilizing time, many prophets had spread the word that Babylon was near collapse and that God would soon return His people to Israel. This prediction, as you can imagine, was very popular.
Jeremiah, meanwhile, prophesized a very different message:
“Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Do not let your prophets and your diviners who are among you deceive you, and do not listen to the dreams that they dream, for it is a lie that they are prophesying to you in my name; I did not send them, declares the Lord.”1
He goes on to say that the people should expect to stay for another 70 years. Over this time the command is to actively seek the well-being of a city and people who might have no respect for the Jewish people or their genuinely-held convictions. He paints a picture of a land that will remain in some respects “foreign” (delivery is promised, after all), but a requirement of prolonged service to, and life alongside, the wider community regardless. God’s people must figuratively (and almost literally) plant themselves in Babylon.
It is within this context that the famous verse—”For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.”—is delivered. The message is clear: God will deliver you, but until that day your job is to increase the welfare of the community that might be hostile to you.
James Davidson Hunter, in his book To Change the World, uses the story of Jeremiah to suggest that Christians should engage the world similarly—in a posture of what he calls faithful presence. “A theology of faithful presence calls Christians to enact the shalom of God in the circumstances in which God has placed them and to actively seek it on behalf of others.”2
The lot of Christians today is similar to those exiled Jewish people to whom Jeremiah spoke. The fear of being in enemy territory could have lead many of God’s people to group together and attempt to build a metaphorical wall around their families. These mini-Jerusalems would keep the faithful in and, perhaps more importantly, the Babylonians out. Others would let the fear turn to anger and, bolstered by the false prophet’s promise of quick deliverance, be combative and defensive to the city’s population. Finally some would look around and make concessions to precepts of the faith in order to gain acceptance by their new neighbors. Jeremiah spoke into this chaos a message of faithfulness while gardens are planted, daughters are married, and prayers are offered.
I fear that, in the area of schooling, white evangelicals attempt to build mini-Jerusalem’s instead of acknowledging that we live in Babylon. This acknowledgement shouldn’t, but I’m afraid does, result in fear and resentment. Our political moment has convinced me that the average white Christian is prepared to fight for cultural/spiritual supremacy but unwilling to love enemies or pray for those who might persecute us.
We can be a community that is filled with neighbors to all even as we know we are not truly home anywhere on this earth. That would mean being faithfully present in the public sphere. It would require keeping ourselves accountable to work for the welfare of everyone, even (or, especially) if it makes us uneasy.
James KA Smith in his book Desiring the Kingdom gives an incredible example of how the modern mall is designed to make sure that our bodies are physically engaged in worship of consumerism. This worship requires physical obstructions to viewing several uncomfortable truths. The lack of exterior windows prevents us from seeing an ugly parking lot filled with cars just as a clean storefront encourages the mind to ignore the human toll required to make our cheap clothes. Similarly we create insulated pockets of Christians in order to protect ourselves or our children, but what if that also keeps us from considering our neighbors?
I believe that participation in the local public school is an excellent first step in the direction to see our communities and thus take root within them. If the public schools are one of the last remaining public squares, then Christians should begin from a position of support and engagement, and that means also being physically present. I’ll explain later on what I believe this support and engagement should look like practically.
Stephen, you might ask, who exactly do you think you’re speaking for/to? The language here seems limited to white evangelicals who can afford to pay for private schooling or to homeschool instead of going to the public school. I will say, you’re probably right. I had a boss who once talked about the need for us to get “our people” before we start to try and convince others. Like, how can I lecture Black folks for opposing a higher tobacco tax if my own people consistently resist efforts that would bring in much higher tax collections like a progressive income tax? I gotta get my people, and I think of it as an extension of the “speck in your own eye” principle. It might be easy for a middle-class white dude with neurotypical children to implore folks to send their kids to local schools. I would not make this case if I wasn’t certain that if we saw more of this exact demographic be faithfully present in their public schools that we could improve things for ALL children. Could you imagine the change possible if the church saw schools as partners in their work to feed the hungry and help the sick?
K-12 education is not the only way that we can take root in our community, but as I’ve written previously I think it is one of the most impactful. Too often, if my experience is any guide, the way the evangelical church shows up in the neighborhood is either as accuser or savior. As accusers our leaders are quick to condemn the sins of the world but struggle to highlight ways those outside the church reflect the image of God. As saviors we look down on anyone different than us and parachute in with the Gospel. Our good intentions are rightly seen as patronizing in this event. Living in Jeremiah’s Babylon means true cooperation, and it requires a humility that only comes from the Divine. As many of you know, getting involved in your kid’s schools (private or public) is complicated and frustrating. You watch dedicated teachers and leaders worn down by an unresponsive institution. Terrible ideas are held dear because of tradition, while innovation is stifled in endless committees. Well-connected children are given advantages meant for hard-working, but underprivileged, ones. All the while you harbor the scary notion that your child is being ignored, or worse, targeted.
Yes, schools are messy, but the dirt is the only place you can take root.
-Stephen
Jeremiah 29:4-9. English Standard Version
Hunter. To Change the World. p. 278