Why Social Justice Is Not the Gospel

The original social gospel movement was based on the idea, derived from the notion of the post-millennial return of Christ, that our job as Christians was to prepare the world for the advent of Christ. The Christianization of the world would find its culmination as Christ himself returned and assumed rule of a world that had been made ready for him by the work of his Church. The “millennial reign” was the Church bringing the world under the obedience of faith to Christ. This idea is summed up in the chorus of a song:

For the darkness shall turn to dawning,
And the dawning to noonday bright,
And Christ’s great kingdom will come to earth,
The kingdom of love and light.

The key idea is that the world will hear and believe the gospel message, thereby bringing about “noonday bright,” the transformation of all its people, institutions, and relationships, after which Christ assumes rule of the earth and makes it his kingdom.

This idea was popular around the beginning of the 20th century, but a few minor bumps in the road pretty much did it in. These bumps were called “World War I” and “World War II.” The entire 20th century was perhaps the bloodiest century in human history, and some researchers claim that more people were killed by their own governments than by wars (R. J. Rummel coined the term “democide” to refer to mass killing by governments of their own people). The technological advancements that seemed to portend human progress — modern mass-production manufacturing, advances in communication, the invention of flight, modern transportation, modern managerial techniques, advances in food production and so on — all were marshaled (pun intended) to support the need of people to kill each other.

Ah, the 20th century, when the flight from reason crash-landed into the slaughterhouse. – James Ostrowski

The call for various justices — “racial justice,” “economic justice,” “social justice,” “environmental justice” and so on, came about from various Marxist-inspired critiques of capitalism. Ironically, capitalism generated more wealth than humanity ever had. But it also produced greater economic inequity, simply because those who did well did really well. The result was that, for example, “poor” people in the United States eat more calories than the average European and are more likely to own a car, a television, and have air conditioning, yet still envy the “rich” (by which is meant the middle class).

The New Testament is quite clear that Christians are to identify with one another and share the things they have. James 2:15-16 says,

If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?

John echoes this idea in 1 John 3:17:

But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?

Paul, in 1 Corinthians 11, emphasizes the need to be in solidarity across economic lines. The well-off, not sharing with the poor in the congregation, were “despis[ing] the church of God and shaming those who have nothing.” He talks about “discerning the body” (1 Corinthians 11:29). This refers to 1 Corinthians 10:17: “Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.” Eating and drinking while failing to discern the body causes one to “eat and drink judgment on himself.”

Even more, Paul in Galatians 3:28 says:

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

But notice carefully: the motivation for this solidarity is Christ. We are one in him; we share in him the love of God. Paul says, in Galatians 5:6,

For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love.

Here we see that the basis for what we do (“working”) is faith; the expression of this working is love (of the kind John speaks of: active love). This crosses lines between circumcised and uncircumcised — between Jew and Greek.

In practical terms, the expression of this oneness can be seen in 2 Corinthians 8-9. Paul speaks of a gift that he would bring from the Christians in Greece to those suffering the effects of poverty in Jerusalem.

First, in 2 Corinthians 8:13-14, he says

For I do not mean that others should be eased and you burdened, but that as a matter of fairness your abundance at the present time should supply their need, so that their abundance may supply your need, that there may be fairness.

The word “fairness” means something like “equity” or “equality.” The idea is that in our solidarity with one another we supply the needs of others out of our abundance, while, perhaps, at a later time their abundance might supply our need. 2 Corinthians 9 emphasizes the voluntary nature of this:

Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.

Again, 2 Corinthians 8:8-9 emphasizes that the motivation for this is that we were loved in like manner by Christ:

I say this not as a command, but to prove by the earnestness of others that your love also is genuine. For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.

Even more, Paul characterizes this gift as “an act of grace” (2 Corinthians 8:6, 7, 19). An act of grace cannot be demanded or even earned; it is a free gift. Thus Paul characterizes this enterprise of relieving the saints in Jerusalem as completely voluntary. He notes that the Corinthians themselves desired to participate in it (2 Corinthians 8:10-11). Thus throughout Paul exhorts the Corinthians to finish what they already started — not out of obligation but out of grace and love stemming from a sense of God’s love and abundance.

All this suggests a model for Christians helping others. That model is based on our unity in Christ. That unity is more than just organizational or institutional. It transcends culture, race, and economic status. Most important, it is a supernatural unity — what Paul calls the “unity of the Spirit.”

Because we are “members of one another,” we are connected. This is a spiritual connection — and so not visible in normal human terms. This is why Paul talks about “faith working through love.” Faith makes spiritual realities apparent; love motivates us to make them concrete.

The Body of Christ, as a supernatural organism, cares for itself — or, to put it another way, its members care for each other. This happens in concrete ways as we identify with one another, as we see each other with eyes of compassion.

But this is not an obligation. Paul, in Romans 13:8, says,

Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.

In particular this addresses the issue of justice (Romans 13:10):

Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.

Again we see the primacy of love as the governing principle that binds the Body of Christ together. In John 13:35 Jesus says,

By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

So we see a model of the Body as the way we as Christians take care of one another. This Body is a new creation, a new humanity. It is a spiritual entity that operates on the basis of love that springs from God’s love for us.

The problem with “random acts of kindness and senseless beauty” is that they do not lead anywhere. They may make someone feel good in the moment but they are not redemptive. This is why the Church is not primarily mandated to do good deeds but, as Matthew 28:19-20 says,

Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.

So in one sense random do-gooding only makes a momentary impression on the world. The good news of salvation through Jesus, on the other hand, offers the possibility of eternal life. It is like the aphorism about fishing:

Give a man a fish, you feed him for a moment. Teach him to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.

In the same way, giving a man food will feed him for a moment; giving him the “food that endures to eternal life” (John 6:27) feeds him for eternity.

The problem again is one of faith. The world does not believe that giving people good news has value. And often Christians do not seem to believe it either. The notion that the good news is the power of God, and that it will accomplish what God has set out for it to do, seems vague and not concrete. So the world is willing to affirm Christians who go around doing things, but not those who tell of the good news of salvation in Christ. I do not believe this is an accident. But the point is that the students teach the teacher; Christians are tempted to do what the world likes and neglect what it does not like.

First, social justice is (purportedly) about justice and not grace. That is, it is about what one’s obligations toward others are. Even if social justice was narrowly and accurately defined — and it is far from being so — it would still be about obligation and not grace.

Because it is not about grace, it is also not about forgiveness or redemption. It is about righting wrongs, not forgiving them. It is about justice, even retribution, not loving one’s enemies.

Because it does not embrace forgiveness, it is trapped in the past. Because the adversities one experiences are due to the actions of someone else, or to those of society as a whole, one loses a sense of agency. If I am a victim of societal forces, I cannot better my life. The result is a sense of learned helplessness where nothing I do matters.

Second, social justice downplays, and even at times denigrates, the proclamation of the good news of salvation in Christ. Marx, for example, famously called religion “the opiate of the people;” many people argue that the gospel is not relevant to those whose physical needs are not satisfied. This is often summed up with the aphorism, “You can’t preach the gospel to a hungry man.”

On the contrary, Matthew 4:2-4 describes the devil’s temptation of Jesus. The devil exhorted Jesus, who had not eaten for 40 days, to change stones into bread. Jesus replied that

Man shall not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.

Henri Nouwen, in his book IN THE NAME OF JESUS, reflects on this temptation. He says that the church is tempted to fulfill the “relevant needs” of people. But in the face of this temptation Jesus “clung to his mission to proclaim the word….”

The truly radical need everyone has is for the word of salvation in Christ. If we Christians do not supply that need, we have not really helped someone. And if we do not supply it, there is nowhere else from whence the world will get it.

Third, social justice is judgmental. It impugns the motives and character of those who do not agree with it.

This is ironic, since one of the watchwords of the social justice movement is “don’t judge me.” And yet using phrases like “systemic racism” is a standing accusation of all people who are part of the system. You are racist because of where you choose to live, where you work, where you do business, what movies you watch, things over which you have no certain control — and therefore cannot escape culpability for.

This notion of systemic injustice creates a kind of gnosticism. As I said at the beginning, it is derived from a form of Marxism — one’s relation to society is determined by economic class, sex, race etc. Those who adhere to this way of thinking have a way of analyzing the situation that gives insight into the motives of others. People are not innocent; what they do, say or think is shaped by the system in such a way as to be inherently unjust.

This notion of a system of sinfulness that we are caught up in is a distortion of the Christian view of sin, and places the locus of sin in the area of economics, sex, race or whatever. But none of these are the true source of sin, and changing society in these areas does not bring about the kingdom.

Finally, social justice has no relation to the supernatural. It does not seek encounter with the Spirit through faith in Jesus. Instead it mobilizes worldly power to accomplish its ends. This can be seen in the way its means are often far from those of Christ. It does not leave vengeance to the Lord who promises, “I will repay.”

“You shall know them by their fruits.” The failure of Christians to see the fundamental worldliness of the social gospel and politically oriented “justice” movements has resulted in Christians downplaying the proclamation of the good news in favor of the “relevance” (see Henri Nouwen) of social justice. But the example of Jesus reminds us to be irrelevant in this world — because that is where our hope lies:

But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. (Philippians 3:20-21)