Nauru: A Response to Martyn Iles
Tuesday, 11 December 2018
| Matt Anslow
I offer the following in response to Martyn Iles’ recent Australian Christian Lobby blog post about Nauru and the relationship of Christ’s commands to government policy. I do so because I think certain theological errors have been made that require ongoing discussion.
First, though, a brief note on Christian fellowship: I am aware that by writing this article I may inadvertently contribute to growing divisions among Christians, divisions that often stem from conflicting political commitments and perspectives. This is not my aim. Martyn and I, despite our different perspectives on the issue of refugees – and other issues, no doubt – are joined together in the Body of Christ. If we ever meet in person, I trust that we could share a drink or the Lord’s Table, whichever is appropriate in the situation.
I’m also aware that Iles’ article is merely a sketch – as is my response – and not intended to be exhaustive. It is, however, a public statement by a prominent group claiming to represent Christians, and so requires scrutiny.
Early on in his article, Iles makes the claim that Jesus, in his various commands, ‘wasn’t telling the government what to do’, but rather was merely commanding individuals: ‘His whole intent was to tell me that I am personally commanded to be the Good Samaritan’. In doing so, Iles expressed a version of what is known as Two Kingdoms theology, in which God’s rule is split between the worldly kingdom through government and the spiritual kingdom through gospel.
Iles’ statement, which is foundational to his overall argument, is problematic for at least two reasons. First, while Jesus obviously doesn’t command the Australian government in the Gospels, it is a vast oversimplification of the matter to suggest he makes no demands on governments whatsoever. Jesus’ various rebukes of the Sadducees and of Herod, as well as his testimony to Pilate regarding the primacy of his kingdom (John 18:28–40), all imply divine expectations on those wielding power, expectations well established throughout the Old Testament, especially the prophets, where even pagan nations incur the judgement of God for their ethical violations.
Remembering that Jesus lived in what was essentially an imperial dictatorship, it is difficult to escape the conclusion that such expectations are more pressing on governments in democratic contexts where they are, at least in theory, an extension of the people. Here we should recall Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 25:31–46 about the coming judgement of the nations (ethnos) and wonder what that might mean for democratic government.
None of this, of course, nullifies the expectation that followers of Jesus would individually ‘get their hands dirty’ loving their neighbours, as Iles says. But it does not mean that love is (only) personal, as he claims.
The Good Samaritan parable may, as Iles notes, be aimed at an individual, but only because it is a response to a question asked by an individual. Pointing to the fact that the Samaritan did not seek systemic change on the road to Jericho, as Iles does, is to stretch the application of the parable well beyond its intended purpose, namely to enlarge the identity of one’s neighbours beyond ethnic Israel. The parable is not an exhaustive, or even provisional, account of the scope of Christian ethics.
This leads us to the second reason Iles’ primary claim is problematic. Despite Iles’ assertion, it is untrue that Jesus’ commandments are directed only to individuals; Jesus’ commands are very often addressed to groups, most obviously the community we call ‘church’. This much is clear from the Greek grammar of many of Jesus’ commands, for example the Great Commission (Matt 28:19–20). In other words, we are not simply called to embody Jesus’ ethical commands alone, but also as a community.
This point is important since the church, a community, is the primary locus of Jesus’ ethical commands, having been called into being by Jesus to be his flesh and blood representative on earth after his Ascension. But Christian ethics is not limited to the church. Rather, Christian ethics is for everyone because, ultimately, it is for the flourishing of all people and all creation.
In other words, the church’s practice of embodying Jesus’ commands is meant to be a demonstration for the world of what the world could be if it too sought to follow Jesus.
It is clear that the world, including its governments, does not live up to this kingdom vocation – nor does the church, for that matter – but nonetheless the destiny of all creation is to be transfigured and conformed to the image of Christ. In the meantime, the church witnesses to this reality.
The implication of all this is that governments, as the organising systems of human communities, are indeed called to follow Jesus, even if they will not.
Iles suggests that, while Jesus did not direct his commandments toward governments, certain duties do flow toward them from the commands of God. These expectations are, according to Iles, different to the expectations placed on individuals, though he does not make clear what this distinction entails in practice except to reference Romans 13:1–7 (which I’ve written on previously) and Proverbs 14:34.
But this is to create a duality among God’s commands, such that while some of God’s commands are expressions of what is ultimately good, right or true, others are not. The reason for this distinction is unclear at best. In this view, God commands things that are not truly consistent with divine character and purpose, or with moral rightness. The result, then, is that at least some of God’s commands to government are arbitrary, even incompatible with the gospel, serving no eschatological (final) ends.
All of this raises the question as to why governments ought to follow these seemingly arbitrary commands, rather than those Christological commands that Iles is so insistent do not apply to them.
Governments may indeed fail to follow Jesus – in a corrupted world, this is what we should expect – but this does not mean we can use the inevitability of government failure to justify brazen ethical violations.
Indeed, the ACL’s very existence seems predicated on the idea that government ought to legislate Christian ethics, and it remains unclear to me why the government should adopt the ACL’s perspective on, say, marriage, while flouting Christian practice in relation to the refugee.
This brings us to the content of the issue at hand, namely Australia’s treatment of refugees. Iles follows others in perpetuating certain myths. The first is that refugee advocates ‘oppose passports and borders’, which is simply false.
Second, Iles suggests that people on Nauru (and Manus Island) are security risks, which is also untrue. Indeed, this is the purpose of processing, which refugee advocates support, so long as it is timely and fair. Indeed, the vast majority of maritime arrivals are found to have a legitimate asylum claim.
Third, Iles suggests that compassionate policy (namely, bringing refugees on Nauru and Manus to Australia) might cause a worse humanitarian problem. But there is no evidence of this and, more importantly, this is to justify the ongoing abuse of innocent people for the sake of achieving some political end. This is detestable whether or not the government is expected to fulfil Christian ethical demands.
Claiming that this policy area is complicated is neither novel nor insightful – all refugee advocates know this, and it is disingenuous to suggest that they do not take these matters seriously. But justifying Australia’s policies regarding Nauru and Manus Island is to suggest that governments can evade not only the high bar of Christian ethics, but also the lower bars of human rights and international law.
Iles claims that the ACL has sought to ‘strike a balance’, but I’d want to suggest that, especially for an organisation that purports to be a Christian lobby group, there can be no balance that involves the documented abuse of vulnerable persons.
Matthew Anslow is a co-founder and organiser for Love Makes a Way, a Christian refugee advocacy organisation. He has a PhD in Theology from Charles Sturt University.