Christian School Leaders in a Decadent Society
Editor’s Note: The following is Dr. Lockerbie’s keynote address delivered on February 7, 2004, at the ACSI board/administrators conference in Toronto, Ontario.
D. Bruce Lockerbie, D.H.L., is chairman of PAIDEIA, Inc., a consulting firm serving schools, colleges, and other evangelical institutions. Author or editor of 40 books, Lockerbie served for many years at the Stony Brook School, New York, where he was dean of faculty and Thomas F. Staley Foundation scholar-in-residence.
I wish to talk about our task as Christian school leaders to “speak truth to power” in an ever more decadent society. The phrase “speak truth to power” is biblical to its core. Every prophet in Scripture, every apostolic martyr—even the Lord Jesus Christ Himself—spoke truth to those who, by human standards, appeared to be in power.
The text of Jeremiah 36 is a striking example. Prompted by God, the prophet dictates the Word of the Lord warning of coming disaster. His servant Baruch copies the message on a scroll that eventually is presented to King Jehoiakim. Because it’s winter, the king is sitting in his cold quarters with a firepot to warm him. As he reads the scroll, he takes a knife and cuts out anything that displeases him and throws it into the firepot. Soon the entire scroll has been burned. Jeremiah ends up in a dungeon, his punishment for obeying God by speaking truth to power. And what of the insolent rulers of Judah who ignored his prophetic warnings? Read the horror story in chapter 39, and ponder its relevance to current events in the Middle East.
Pontius Pilate asserted his authority when he warned Jesus, “Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?” To this Jesus replied, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above” (John 19:10–11, NIV). We may well ask, How far above?
Pilate first received his governing authority from the Roman general Sejanus, who controlled the eastern Mediterranean region under the emperor Tiberius. Pilate had been named procurator of Judea in A.D. 26, but five years later his patron Sejanus fell out of favor and died, leaving Pilate isolated in the distant land of the Jews. Pilate’s unsteady political situation necessitated finding some way to appease the Jewish leaders when they brought Jesus before him. So for Pilate, at least, power from above was the power of politics and patronage, as well as of Roman law, the will of the emperor, the Roman senate, and by inference the Roman people.
But we know that Jesus was referring to a source even higher, a source more profound; for the power “given to you from above” is granted ultimately by God alone. As that Roman citizen from Tarsus named Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans, “the powers that be are ordained of God” (13:1, KJV). So it follows that human authority to govern, to legislate, to rule, to judge, to incarcerate—even to condemn to death—derives from God.
But does the passage in Romans 13 call us to respect human authority by prohibiting us from speaking truth to power? I don’t think so. Paul is no fool; he is well aware of the current “powers that be,” including their names and titles. They are the members of the Roman senate; they are Agrippina, widow of the late emperor Claudius I, and her adopted son—a certifiable madman—known as Nero Claudius Caesar.
Nero’s crimes were legendary, from cheating at the Olympic Games to win a laurel wreath, to murdering the woman who had raised him to emperor. Eventually, after Paul’s death at his orders, Nero would blame the Christians for the great fire that destroyed Rome. Yet, says the Apostle, “he who rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves” (Romans 13:2, NIV). Does Paul really expect us to honor Nero as “God’s servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer” (Romans 13:4, NIV)?
There are several possible interpretations of this text. First, precisely as stated, God requires blind obedience to the state and its authority because it is “what God has instituted” (Romans 13:2, NIV). A second reading offers the ideal, which is “do what is right and [the ruler] will commend you,” since the ruler is “God’s servant to do you good” (Romans 13:3–4, NIV). Both views have marked much of fundamentalist and evangelical Christianity during my lifetime, with a commensurate absence of cutting-edge witness in speaking truth to power.
But another interpretation of Romans 13 accompanies a rise in civil disobedience with all its consequences. This reading supposes a layer of irony as subtext—St. Paul, as it were, speaking with a knowing wink to those who perceive his real message. “God’s servant” is “an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer” (Romans 13:4, NIV). But who really is “God’s servant,” and who is the “wrongdoer”? An ironic reading reverses the roles so that “God’s servant” is none other than the genuinely faithful and patriotic citizen who, by exposing the wickedness of “the wrongdoer” (Nero or any other godless official) and refusing to obey his evil commands, is authentically submissive to the highest Power.
If we call ourselves biblical Christians, we must acknowledge the source of Power with a capital P. Note that when Jesus Christ makes His final post-Resurrection claim, He states clearly that “all authority [power] in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18, NIV). It is “given to me,” not inherent because He is the Son of God but granted, vested, entrusted by the Father, who alone has power to confer power on the Son.
Similarly, as biblical Christians, we will recognize that the transfer of post-Resurrection power is God’s act through the Holy Spirit. At his Ascension, Jesus tells His apostles, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you” (Acts 1:8, NIV). The gift of the Holy Spirit is the gift of power. That gift—Paul assures his protégé Timothy—stands against any human tendency to quiver with fear. Paul writes that “God did not give us a spirit of timidity [fear that resembles cowardice], but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline” (2 Timothy 1:7, NIV).
Finally, the very word Paul uses for power in addressing Timothy is the same word he has used to describe the gospel—the Good News—to his Roman readers: It is the dynamite of God! Either we believe this, or we don’t! Since we claim to believe in an omnipotent God, how do we act on that belief? And if God is ultimately in control, how do we account for bad rulers and bad laws that flout God’s holiness, God’s justice, even God’s mercy?
What—you may be asking—has any of this to do with my role as leader in a Christian school?
We live in a time of such astonishing social and legal change as to weary the mind with recounting it. When Mark Kennedy first invited me to an Eastern Canada ACSI event in the mid-1990s, neither he nor you nor I could have imagined that we would be facing the social upheaval and legislative shackles that mark North American life today. Hardly anyone predicted we’d be facing the imposition of social engineering intended to elevate from their illegal and immoral status behaviors offensive to every world religion—behaviors still deemed too perverse for public viewing, even in an R-rated movie.
I speak of the accelerating movement by homosexual guerilla warriors throughout North America to overthrow long-standing social norms. By legislation or judicial opinion, they intend to affect common speech patterns, workplace rules and benefits, seminary classrooms and pulpits, movies and television programming, the textbook industry, local school systems, and eventually the family by influencing its youngest members to accept what their parents will never countenance.
The State of Vermont’s recognition of same-sex civil unions was trumped by Ontario’s decision to recognize homosexual and lesbian couples’ “marriages.” Then came the scandal of elevating to Bishop of New Hampshire a divorced Episcopal priest cohabiting with another man. The United States has been stunned as certain city mayors usurp the right to officiate at such illegal ceremonies. At this writing, Americans await action by the Massachusetts legislature and courts to resolve confusion or a Constitutional amendment declaring marriage to be exclusively the prerogative of a man-and-woman.
But even more to the point, as biblical Christians, we are baffled by the silence of our nominal leaders and usual spokesmen: Where are the voices of evangelical pastors, evangelists, and broadcasters? Where is the compelling call for action from those so concerned about abortion, the Ten Commandments, and other moral and political issues?
The real point of my remarks is not to inveigh against homosexuality or infidelity in marriage or corruption in the church or the abandonment of traditional values. One reason is that, frankly, I’m not interested in “traditional values” as much as I am in “biblical virtues.” The issues facing us transcend the so-called “culture wars.” It is not enough to identify the problems in our culture, then shake our heads in dismay. We must act on our knowledge, and we must attempt— under God—to effect change. This is the call, therefore, to speak truth to power.
Our starting point must be a recognition of who our enemy really is. As St. Paul told both the Corinthians and the Ephesians, “The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world” (2 Corinthians 10:4, NIV) because “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12, NIV).
The enemy is the one who deludes all humanity! The enemy is the same voice that, long ago in Eden, asked insultingly, “Did God really say …?” (Genesis 3:1, NIV). The enemy is Satan, and the clearest evidence of his presence and power is the very denial of that presence and power. Satan is never as visible as when scoffers discount his reality.
But Satan is an enemy whose power is limited, whose destiny is sealed: Satan has already lost the battle. As Paul tells the Colossians in a passage vivid with ancient imagery, by his victory at the cross and by the empty tomb, Jesus Christ conquered Satan, taking away his power. Paul writes, “And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross” (Colossians 2:15, NIV).
A few weeks ago, my wife and I stood in the forum of ancient Rome. Looking down its broad boulevard, past temples and gates honoring its military heroes and rulers, I could imagine the ticker-tape parade called a triumph because the victorious general being honored arrived in a chariot pulled by three horses. Before him went his own army with its display of spoils from victory. Then came the captured slaves. But behind the triumphal chariot—either stumbling in chains or dragged as a corpse—came the defeated opponent. That’s the picture St. Paul paints: Christus Victor making “a public spectacle” of Satan and his defeated, disarmed “powers and authorities.”
How then do we speak truth to power? Certainly not as cowering plaintiffs or as arrogant, self-righteous moralizers. We need to know who we are, and in what voice we ought to speak. We are sinners saved by grace. We are alien residents of this nation, subject to its laws, but we are also pilgrims en route to the celestial city on the Way that leads to eternal life.
We are also leaders by vocation in the work of Christian schooling, which means that—whether as board members or professional educators, pastors of sponsoring churches or parents of students—we are summoned to the advocacy and promotion of our work and, when necessary, to its defense as well. We are committed to the work of Christian schooling in both theory and practice, both philosophically and financially.
It takes courage, since speaking truth to power may lead to intimidation and threats. Appearing before your local or county officials, writing a letter to your newspaper’s editor, seeking sixty seconds for a radio response, petitioning your legislator, appearing in court as a witness for someone accused of nothing more than the expression of religious views contrary to received political correctness—any of these may bring recriminating consequences on you personally or commercially or corporately.
It also takes courage to speak truth to power if the mission of your school is about to be compromised. For years PAIDEIA, Inc., has been urging school boards to declare their purpose, their school’s reason- for-being. But we have also asked school leaders to consider the reasons for which they would rather close the school than continue to operate under adverse conditions.
Some of those reasons may simply come down to a conflict with a pastor who mistakes his call for administrative decision making about the school’s curriculum or athletic schedule. Some may involve a group of aggressive parents insisting on their right to choose what textbooks will be read, or what dress code will be observed, or what level of quality the board and the head of school will tolerate. Here too it becomes necessary to speak truth to power, reminding the pastor of his proper role or telling parents that they have two opportunities to vote: first, when they decide to enroll a child; second, when they choose to reenroll or withdraw that child.
And speaking of parents, on another occasion I have urged our need to “speak truth to power” by separating from our school those parents who refuse to govern their own tongues and, instead, indulge in damaging speech about the school’s leadership.
The call to responsible leadership—whether as governing board member or head of school—is a call to “speak truth to power.” As He did for Moses before the pharaoh in Egypt, may God give us all grace to know when to speak and what to say that we may be effective witnesses to the only Power that matters!
Speak Truth to Power 8.CS