There are a wide variety of views about the relationship between Christianity and the state. Some Christians strongly support a nationalistic partnership with the state, while others hold to a strict separation between church and state and deny that believers should have anything to do with the state at all. Most Christians exist somewhere on a continuum between these two views. But what if the correct view doesn’t lie on this spectrum at all – what if Christians should actually be opposed to the state as an institution? This is the view of Christian anarchism.
Admittedly, Christian anarchism seems very counterintuitive. The early anarchist theorist Mikhail Bakunin was avowedly anti-theistic and saw religion and the state as twin unjustified hierarchies that propped each other up. Most anarchists aren’t Christians, and anarchism is underrepresented within Christianity. Even so, people like Leo Tolstoy, Jacques Ellul, and Gary Chartier have argued that anarchism is not only compatible with Christianity, but is actually the fullest political expression of Christian values (especially love). I too am a Christian anarchist, and in this post, I’ll present the Scriptural case for anarchism.
The state in the story of Israel
First, let’s look at the role that the state plays in the story of the Hebrew Bible (HB). From a Christian perspective, the HB tells the story of God’s people, Israel, which will culminate in the arrival of Israel’s Messiah Jesus. For the most part, this story is a story of failure, which is the perspective that the HB itself takes, along with most second-Temple period Jews. Israel is sent into exile for her sins, and the exile is seen as continuing even after many Judeans return to their homeland. (For a summary of the second-Temple literature on this topic, see N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God, chap. 2.)
Let’s go back to the high point of Israel’s history, according to the HB: the exodus from Egypt. This was the point at which the people of Israel were rescued from slavery by their God YHWH and given the law that defined them as a polity. The Mosaic Law was certainly not anarchistic, since it upheld social hierarchies (for example, foreigners were allowed to be enslaved for life; Lev 25:39–46) and promoted the genocide of Canaanite peoples. Even so, the extent to which the role of the state is reduced in the Mosaic Law is remarkable.
The key section of the Mosaic Law which describes the roles of governing officials is Deuteronomy 16–18. This legal code makes no provision for any legislative role, which is unsurprising, since the Law had already been set down. As for judicial roles, the community as a whole was expected to “appoint judges and officials” in each of their towns to “justly govern the people” (Deut 16:18–20); if they couldn’t reach a decision in their town, they could appeal to the priests, who were the final authority (17:8–13). The executive role was given to the people of the community themselves, who would carry out a punishment of summary execution if necessary (17:2–7). The role of king is only given as a concession to the people, since they desire to be like other nations; but the king isn’t allowed to acquire excessive sexual or economic power for himself, and isn’t regarded as above the law, “so that his heart isn’t exalted above his brethren” (17:14–20). The most important role is that of “the prophet”, who is to be regarded as Moses’ successor and recognized by the truth of his statements (18:15–22).
This model of the Israelite polity isn’t an anarchist one, to be sure, but it’s far less hierarchical than the typical ancient Near Eastern polity. The people as a whole are given the role of appointing judicial positions, the people as a whole take on the executive function, and the people are the ones expected to recognize the prophet. The king isn’t even prescribed a role by the Law, and if the people do choose to have a king anyway, there are numerous brakes on his power. The only office that has unambiguous authority over the entire land is the Levitical priesthood, and this is only a judicial role that follows from a voluntary appeals process; everything else belongs to the communities of the individual towns.
Moreover, there is no compulsory taxation prescribed by the Mosaic Law, unlike in other ancient Near Eastern polities. There is instead a voluntary “tithe”, ten percent of each household’s produce which provides a social safety net for Levites (who aren’t involved in agricultural work), migrants, the poor, widows, and orphans (Lev 27:30–33; Num 18:20–32; Deut 14:22–29; 26:12–15). There’s no punishment given for those who fail to provide a tithe, but there’s clearly social and religious pressure to do so. The later prophets consistently rebuke Israel for failing to provide for these at-risk groups, even after they’re exiled (cf. Mal 3:8–12).
According to the HB, this model seems to have been followed for the most part during the period of the judges, and at least two prophets, Deborah and Samuel, are said to have led Israel (Judg 4:4; 1 Sam 7:15–17). But because of corruption in the priestly and prophetic offices (1 Sam 2:12–26; 8:1–3; which may indicate the dangers of even these limited hereditary positions), the “elders” of Israel ask for a king to govern them “like other nations” (1 Sam 8:4–5). Samuel’s response is worth quoting in full:
“These will be the ways of the king who will reign over you: he will take your sons and appoint them to his chariots and to be his horsemen, and to run before his chariots, and he will appoint for himself commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties and some to plow his ground and to reap his harvest and to make his implements of war and the equipment of his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive orchards and give them to his courtiers. He will take one-tenth of your grain and of your vineyards and give it to his officers and his courtiers. He will take your male and female slaves and the best of your cattle and donkeys and put them to his work. He will take one-tenth of your flocks, and you shall be his slaves. And on that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves, but YHWH will not answer you on that day.”
Clearly Samuel (and the author of this history) takes a low view of the king, which is remarkable for the ancient Near East where kings were regularly divinized. Choosing a human king was even viewed as abandoning YHWH as king (1 Sam 8:7). There are no possible upsides to the monarchy; it’s an entirely parasitic office which will only enrich itself through conscription and taxation. The author of the Deuteronomistic History goes on to make it very clear that Samuel’s speech is much more than an empty warning.
Only two years after the monarchy is established, the king Saul already begins to unlawfully aggregate power to himself by taking over some of the responsibilities of the prophetic office, which causes him to be rejected by YHWH (1 Sam 13:8–14). His successor David uses his position of power to rape Bathsheba and murder her husband (2 Sam 11), and finishes out his reign by calling a census for war contrary to the will of YHWH (2 Sam 24) — although the historian takes a more positive overall view of David’s reign. His son Solomon, however, used forced labor to build his cities, and aggregated massive amounts of sexual, political, and economic power, all contrary to the law (1 Kgs 9:15–21; 10:14–11:8; cf. Deut 17:14–20). The harsh slavery under which Solomon and his son placed Israel caused the northern tribes to secede and choose their own king (1 Kgs 12), but their kings also turned out to be evil. In retrospect, it was primarily the kings (of both north and south) who led Israel into sin and caused her exile (2 Kgs 17:7–23; 23:26–27; 24:1–4).
It’s not an exaggeration to say that, from the perspective of the Deuteronomistic historian, the turning point for Israel was when the people chose a monarchy. He explicitly refers to this decision as “sin” and an “evil” (1 Sam 12:19). By rejecting the (much more horizontal) structure of the Israelite polity prescribed by YHWH in favor of a typical ancient Near Eastern monarchy, Israel set the stage for her own downfall. As soon as he was given power, the king began to aggregate more and more power and lead the people into sin. (Within the second-Temple period, the monarchy began to be viewed in a more favorable light, but that’s not the perspective taken in the HB itself.)
The sermon on the mount
The HB isn’t univocal in its perspective on the state. While the Deuteronomistic History clearly takes a low view of the monarchy, other parts of the HB seem to have a more favorable view, and much of the HB takes a pretty nationalistic tone (with the exception of some prophets, esp. Isaiah 40–66). Fortunately, as Christians, we don’t just have the HB but also the New Testament to guide our beliefs. Where the HB accommodated, upheld, and even supported some human hierarchies, many of Jesus’ teachings repudiate these hierarchies and point in an implicitly anarchist direction.
Jesus’ sermon on the mount (Matt 5–7; Lk 6) has been a primary focus for many Christian anarchists, such as Leo Tolstoy and Alexandre Christoyannopoulos. It’s easy to see why: in this sermon, Jesus reinterprets much of the Mosaic Law in a direction that looks very anarchistic. He didn’t regard himself as having overturned any of the Law, but instead having brought it to fulfillment (Matt 5:17–20). Let’s briefly look at some of his teachings in this sermon.
First, he reinterprets the commandment not to murder as a command not to be angry at one’s brethren (Matt 5:21–24). But this applies not only to one’s siblings; it even applies to one’s “legal adversary” (Gk: antidikos; 5:25–26). You should reconcile with your adversary before bringing them to be judged in court, lest you be judged — by God. This ties into Jesus’ later teaching, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged” (7:1–5). He rebukes his audience for judging a “speck” in someone else’s eye while they have a “log” in their own, directing them away from petty moralism and toward their own improvement.
Of course, if no sinful person can judge others, they can’t delegate the ability to judge others to other sinful people. This means that Christians should reconcile with their adversaries outside of the government judicial system. In fact, Paul says this explicitly in his letter to the Corinthian church! “To have lawsuits at all with one another is already a defeat for you. Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be defrauded? But you yourselves wrong and defraud” (1 Cor 6:1–8). This mentality of non-judgment overturns the basis for a government judiciary in the first place.
Christian anarchists have also emphasized Jesus’ repudiation of the lex talionis, the law of retribution. “You have heard it said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, do not resist an evildoer” (Matt 5:38–39). In context, Jesus isn’t renouncing all opposition to evil, but his instructions are paradoxical. Instead of resisting evil by fighting back, his disciples are supposed to resist evil by giving further to the evildoer, and thereby breaking the cycle of violence (5:39–42). Jesus isn’t concerned with whether retribution is ‘just’ in some abstract sense, but whether it reflects the character that we should be cultivating in the world, and he’s clear that it does not. He perfectly lived out this teaching by giving up his very life to evildoers, and in doing so, he paradoxically defeated evil once and for all.
Jesus goes on to interpret Lev 19:18 (“You shall love your neighbor as yourself”) to include even one’s enemies: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt 5:43–44). Once again, he isn’t concerned with the abstract ‘justice’ of it all, but whether it reflects God’s character; since God loves his enemies, we should too (5:45–48).
Another teaching which is anarchistic in its implications is the golden rule: “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you, for this is the Law and the Prophets” (7:12). This teaching, which Jesus makes central to the (reinterpreted) law, explicitly places each person on an equal footing and thereby repudiates human hierarchy. Robert Ellsberg, a member of the anarchistic Catholic Worker movement, says that the golden rule is at “the root of anarchist morality... If you would not be exploited, then you must not exploit others. If you would not be ruled, then you must refuse to rule others.”
This repudiation of hierarchy can be seen in the ‘beatitudes’ at the beginning of Jesus’ sermon. He blesses those at the bottom of social hierarchies — the poor in spirit, the mourners, the meek, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted for righteousness — thereby bringing them up to a higher status in God’s eyes (Matt 5:3–10). Luke’s account goes even further, as Jesus blesses the poor, hungry, and mourners, and condemns the rich, the full, and the mockers (Lk 6:20–26). Although this isn’t as explicit as the golden rule, it clearly relates Jesus’ desire to flatten human economic and spiritual hierarchies.
Finally, a common concern about anarchy is whether and how a non-hierarchical society would function. We could give many examples which show that anarchy can and does work even better than hierarchy. But Jesus rejects the logic of this concern altogether; instead, he says, as long as people “seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness,” they shouldn’t worry about the future (Matt 6:33–34). Just as God takes care of the grass and flowers of the field, he will also take care of us (6:25–32). Rather than worrying about the future of society, we should simply seek righteousness in the present.
Taken together, Jesus’ teachings in the sermon on the mount repudiate the whole logic of hierarchy and the state. If retribution is wrong, if we are supposed to love our enemies and treat everyone as we would treat ourselves, then there’s no justification for asymmetric, hierarchical relationships between people. None of this means that, as some Christian leftists have suggested, Jesus was the “first socialist” or “first anarchist.” It would be anachronistic to attribute to him any modern political ideology, right- or left-wing. But if we consistently apply Jesus’ teachings within the modern political landscape, it ends up looking a whole lot like anarchism, with its refusal of human hierarchies and retribution (Meggitt 2017).
The political significance of agape
A concept central to the New Testament is love, agapē in Greek. In Matthew and Mark, when Jesus is asked about the most important commandments, he responds that the Law is summed up in the two commands, “You shall love [agapēseis] the Lord your God with all your heart, and all your soul, and all your mind,” and “You shall love [agapēseis] your neighbor as yourself” (Matt 22:34–40; Mk 12:28–34). In Luke’s account, he asks someone else to sum up the Law, they respond with these two commands, and he says, “You have given the right answer” (Lk 10:25–28).
In John’s gospel, Jesus gives his disciples a “new command,” to “love [agapate] one another as I have loved you,” and says that this is how they will be known as his disciples (13:34–35). He goes on to tell them that if they keep his commandments, they will “abide in my love [agapē],” and that he gives them these commands “so that you may love [agapate] one another” (15:10–17). In his letters, John actually makes this — love for one another — the test of whether someone is a true child of God (1 Jn 2:8–11; 3:10–24; 4:7–5:2; 2 Jn 5–6). John even asserts that “God is love [agapē], and those who abide in God abide in love, and God abides in them” (1 Jn 4:16).
Paul tells the believers in the Roman church to “owe no one anything, except to love [agapan] one another, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law” (Rom 13:8–10). No spiritual gift is worth anything if it isn’t accompanied by agapē (1 Cor 13:1–3). Love binds together every other virtue (Col 3:14). To the Galatian church, he writes, “in Messiah Jesus... the only thing that matters is faith working through love... For the whole law is summed up in a single command: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’” (Gal 5:6, 13–14). Likewise, the author of 1 Timothy says that “the aim of [the law] is love [agapē] which comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith,” but he warns that “some people have deviated from this and turned to meaningless talk, desiring to be teachers of the law without understanding what they are saying or the things they confidently assert” (1:5–7).
In his letter to the diaspora, the apostle James writes, “If you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’ you are doing well” (Jas 2:8). The apostle Peter, in his own letter to the diaspora, agrees: “Above all, maintain constant love [agapēn] for one another, for love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pet 4:8).
This brief summary makes it clear that agapē was central to the Christian ethic of the New Testament authors. Nearly all of them, with the exception of Jude, the Hebraist, and the authors of 2 Peter (?) and Revelation (?), explicitly say that love is the greatest commandment and even sums up the whole law. But what exactly does agapē look like? Paul and John paint a clear picture:
- “agapē does not do evil to a neighbor” (Rom 13:10)
- “Through agapē serve one another... bear one another’s burdens, and you will fulfill the law of Messiah” (Gal 5:13; 6:2)
- “agapē is patient and kind; agapē is not envious; agapē is not boastful or arrogant or rude; it does not seek its own way; it is not irritable; it keeps no account of wrongs; it does not delight in injustice but rejoices in truth” (1 Cor 13:4–6)
- “No one has greater agapē than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jn 15:13)
- “God demonstrates his agapē to us, in that while we were still sinners, the Messiah died for us... while we were enemies” (Rom 5:8)
- “We know agapē by this, that he laid down his life for us” (1 Jn 3:16)
The early church and anarchy
We might have a better idea of how to act out agapē if we look at how the early church did so. There are a few interesting passages in the book of Acts which relate how the church in Jerusalem was structured during its earliest days:
Now all the believers were together and had all things in common; they were selling their possessions and goods and distributing the proceeds to all, as each had need. Every day, as they continued together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. (Ac 2:44–47)
Now the whole group of believers were of one heart and soul, and no one said that anything he possessed was his own, but all things were in common for them... There was no one in need among them, for as many as owned lands or houses were selling them and bringing the proceeds of what was sold. They were laying it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to each as anyone had need. (Ac 4:32, 34–35)
These texts show that the early church was communist in its economic structure; that is, in the technical sense of “from each according to their ability, to each according to their need,” not in the popular sense of totalitarianism. In fact, the socialist slogans, “from each according to his ability,” “to each according to his need,” and “to each according to his work,” all find their origin in Scripture (Bovens and Lutz 2019). It seems that this structure was harshly enforced in the Jerusalem church, not by human authority but by God, since Ananias and Sapphira were struck dead for lying and failing to contribute their whole wealth (Acts 5:1–11).
There’s considerable evidence that the early Christian practice of libertarian communism was widespread and continued well into the second century (Montero 2017). Moreover, the first churches across the Mediterranean provided economic support to each other when they were in need. During a famine, the disciples decided that “according to their ability, each would send relief to the brethren in Judea” (Ac 11:29). Paul relates the same event in one of his letters, saying that the other apostles asked him “to remember the poor, which was actually what I was eager to do” (Gal 2:10). This collection took up much of Paul’s ministry, and he mentions it in three other letters (Rom 15:25–27; 1 Cor 16:1–4; 2 Cor 8–9). Paul is concerned that there should be economic parity between churches, and he sees this as following Jesus’ own self-sacrifice in which he became “poor” so that we could be “rich” (2 Cor 8:9–16).
Both the internal economic structure of the Jerusalem church and the collection among the gentile churches reflect a concern for economic equality, which can be seen in other New Testament writings. As noted already, Jesus himself blesses the poor and curses the rich (Lk 6:20, 24); he also says that one cannot serve both God and money (Matt 6:19–24) and promises rewards for those who serve the poor (Matt 19:20–26; Lk 14:12–14; etc.). James condemns those who show any partiality to the rich (Jas 2:1–7) and even condemns the rich for exploiting their laborers (5:1–5). John says that if a person sees someone else in need and doesn’t help them, “how does God’s love abide in [them]?” (1 Jn 3:17–18). It’s clear that concern for the poor was an important part of early Christianity and reflects God’s character.
What about the political structure of the early church? As Jesus taught: “You know that the rulers of the gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones have authority over them. It will not be so among you, but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant” (Mk 10:42–45; Matt 20:25–28; Lk 22:24–27). He contrasts the very hierarchical structure of the Roman Empire to the ideal structure of the church, in which leaders must be servants. Jesus modeled this type of leadership to his disciples by washing their feet (John 13:1–17). This is very similar to the anarchist view, which doesn’t reject leadership altogether, but decouples it from the notions of hierarchy and ‘power-over’.
A few leadership positions are mentioned in the letters of the New Testament: “apostles,” “bishops / overseers,” and “deacons / helpers” (cf. Phil 1:1). These people should have modeled servant leadership within the early church (in fact, “deacon” literally means “servant”). Furthermore, these positions were delegated “with the consent of the whole church” (Didache 15.1; 1 Clem 44.2). Based on our limited view into the earliest churches, they seem to have been very horizontal, with every person allowed to speak up and teach in an ordered manner (1 Cor 14:26–33). Each believer was to be treated as an equal and indispensable member of the body of Christ, and leadership positions were for the purpose of strengthening the other members of the body (Rom 12:3–5; 1 Cor 12:12–26; Eph 4:11–16).
The earliest Christians also approached the social issues of their day in an anti-hierarchical way. This is clearest in Paul’s statements about our status in Christ:
There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male and female, for you are all one in the Messiah Jesus. (Gal 3:28)
Here there is neither Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but the Messiah is all and in all. (Col 3:11)
For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slave or free, and we were all given one Spirit to drink. (1 Cor 12:13)
For there is no difference between Jew and Greek, for the same Lord of all is rich toward all who call on him. (Rom 10:12)
One of the biggest social issues plaguing the earliest church was the status of gentile believers. Paul is clear that their status is no different than Jewish believers, because they all are one in Christ, and he wasn’t afraid to condemn other apostles for discriminating against gentiles (Gal 2:11–14). He applies this same ethic to the distinction between enslaved and free people (cf. 1 Cor 7:21–23; Philem 10–18 says that a slave is to be treated like an apostle!), and between men and women.
Like parts of the Hebrew Bible, there are parts of the New Testament that appear to accommodate and even uphold (for example) slavery and gender hierarchies (1 Cor 14:34–46?; Eph 6:5–6; Col 3:22; 1 Tim 2:11–15; 6:1–2; Tit 2:9–10; 1 Pet 2:18). I won’t try to defend or rationalize away these passages here, but the important thing to note is that if they are upholding such hierarchies, they run contrary to the overall ethic of the New Testament which is about horizontal agapē between persons. Treating each other as we would treat ourselves is, ultimately, not compatible with enslaving other persons or treating women as subservient.
It’s also worth looking at the post-apostolic church. Although historians disagree on just how widespread pacifism was in early Christianity, it’s clear that many of the early church fathers held that any killing was unjust, and so advised against Christians serving in the military (e.g., Justin Martyr, 1 Apol 39; Athenagoras, Plea 1; Tertullian, Apol 36–37; De Idol 19; Hippolytus, Apostol Trad 16.9–11; Lactantius, Divine Inst 16.20). Canon 12 of the Council of Nicaea (AD 325) condemns those who leave the military to become Christians and later rejoin the military, even applying Proverbs 26:11 to them. The pagan writer Celsus criticized Christianity for ‘betraying their nation’ in this way (Origen, Against Celsus 8.68). While this is, of course, not the modern ideology of anarchism, it naturally lends itself to anarchism by undermining the state’s monopoly on violence.
The kingdom of God
Most of the New Testament’s social teachings deal with the day-to-day life of the earliest believers. Because the early Christians were in no position to reform wider society, they didn’t really talk about their view of an ideal society. However, they did look forward to a time when God would bring about such an ideal society, the ‘Kingdom of God’. Very few passages in the New Testament deal directly with God’s consummated kingdom, but Paul does talk about it in the middle of an argument about the future resurrection:
...then comes the consummation, when [Jesus] will hand over the kingdom to God the Father, when he will abolish all rule and authority and power. For he must reign until [God] has “put all his enemies under his feet.” The last enemy to be abolished is death. For [God] has “put all things in subjection under his feet”; but when it may be said that all things have been subjected, it is clear that the One who subjected all things to him is excepted. When all things have been subjected to him, then the Son himself will be subjected to the One who subjected all things to him, so that God may be all in all. (1 Cor 15:24–28)
For Paul, human hierarchies are portrayed as “enemies” on par with death itself, and the fulfillment of God’s kingdom will involve the abolition of “all [human] rule and authority and power.” This certainly looks like the anarchist vision of society without hierarchy. Paul quotes Psalms 8:6 and 109:1 (LXX) to show that all things, including Jesus’ enemies, will be subjected to him and ultimately to God; as several ancient commentators noticed, this must be a voluntary submission, because Christ is subjected in the same way. Origen, Gregory of Nyssa, and other early church fathers marshaled this passage in support of a powerful argument for the eventual salvation of all people in and through Christ (see especially Gregory’s In illud).
Paul’s brief treatise in 1 Cor 15 is the only New Testament passage that deals explicitly with the structure of God’s consummated kingdom. Still, as I noted earlier, Jesus rejects the association between leadership and hierarchy, instead teaching (and demonstrating) that leaders should be servants; this is explicitly connected to the theme of the Kingdom of God (Matt 20:20–28; Lk 22:24–30). The book of Revelation contrasts God’s kingdom with a supremely evil government represented by “the beast,” whose number “666” is likely an intertextual allusion to Solomon’s kingdom (1 Kgs 10:14; Rev 13:18) — a point which is unfortunately missed by most commentators (Bodner and Strawn 2020). God’s kingdom will not be like the ancient Israelite kingdom, which turned out to be tyrannical.
Some of my fellow anarchists are likely concerned that the Kingdom of God, as presented by the New Testament, is highly exclusive, which seems contrary to anti-hierarchical ideals. However, I think it’s false that exclusivism is contrary to anarchism. Many people are indeed excluded from God’s kingdom (1 Cor 6:9–10; Gal 5:19–21; Eph 5:5; Rev 21:7–8, 27; 22:14–15), and this is because they oppose agapē by their actions. When faced with the harsh reality of human sinfulness, it becomes necessary to do something about those who actively oppose love; the most humane option, and the one most in line with anarchist ideals, is simply exclusion. The flip side of the anarchist slogan of “free association” is free disassociation.
Moreover, the writers of the New Testament emphasize that exclusion need not be a permanent state, and those who are now excluded can freely join God’s kingdom through faith in Christ (1 Cor 6:11; Eph 5:7–9; Rev 21:24–27; 22:14–17). If those who were opposed to the Kingdom of God were nonetheless subjected to it, then God’s kingdom would be much more like a tyrannical state. The fact that such people are excluded from God’s kingdom, yet can still join it freely, actually makes it more like the ideal society that anarchism postulates.
The hard one: Romans 13 (and 1 Peter 2)
Inevitably, a passage that is brought up against every Christian anarchist is Romans 13:1–7, where Paul tells the congregation at Rome to “be subject to the higher authorities”. A similar passage that isn’t as well known is 1 Peter 2:13–17, which says to “be subject to every human institution”! Here are the relevant passages in full:
Let everyone be subject to the higher authorities, for there is no authority except from God, and those that exist are appointed by God. Therefore whoever resists the authority opposes God’s ordinance, and those who oppose it bring judgment on themselves. For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to evil. Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do good, and you will receive its praise, for it is God’s servant for your good. But if you do evil, be afraid, for it does not bear the sword in vain. It is God’s servant to execute wrath on the evildoer. Therefore one must be subject, not only because of wrath but also because of conscience. You pay taxes for the same reason, for they are God’s ministers devoted to this very thing. Render to everyone their dues: taxes to whom taxes are due, revenue to whom revenue is due, respect to whom respect is due, and honor to whom honor is due. (Rom 13:1–7)
Be subject to every human institution for the Lord’s sake, whether to the emperor as supreme or to the governors sent by him to punish evildoers and praise good-doers. For it is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorance of foolish people. Live as free people, and do not use freedom as a pretext for evil, but live as God’s servants. Honor everyone: love the brethren, fear God, and honor the emperor. (1 Pet 2:13–17)
These passages are often read as saying that Christians shouldn’t oppose authority, because authorities are put in place by God to reward good people and punish evildoers. That’s certainly the most straightforward interpretation if these passages are read in isolation. But it should give us pause to remember that both Paul and Peter were murdered by the Roman authorities for doing good, not evil. Moreover, as N. T. Wright and other NT scholars argue strongly, Paul’s message was itself subversive (in a nonviolent way) of the Roman Empire (e.g., Wright 1998).
Thus, the hyper-statist view of Romans 13 — that it legitimates all authorities in all their activities — must be wrong. Every Christian should agree that the apostles wouldn’t advise submission to the state in extreme cases where it would involve denying Christ. This leaves some ambiguity as to which authorities, and which of their activities, are in line with God’s will. Although every authority is subject to God’s sovereignty in an absolute sense (cf. Dan 4:17), there is a very real sense in which authorities may be set up against God’s will (cf. Hos 8:4), and Paul warned the Roman authorities that they too were subject to God’s judgment (e.g., Acts 24:24–25).
The context of both Romans 13:1–7 and 1 Peter 2:13–17 is important. Crucially, both passages are flanked by injunctions to love one’s enemy, not to take vengeance on one’s enemy, and to be willing to submit to persecution rather than return evil for evil (Rom 12:14–21; 1 Pet 2:18–21). It’s in this context that we should understand Paul’s and Peter’s command to “be subject to” (Gk: hypotassō) — not to “obey” (Gk: hypakouō) — the state. The state is arguably being presented as an enemy, at the least an entity which could be an enemy, and Christians should treat it like any other enemy: by not taking vengeance, even being willing to suffer persecution, and subverting it with love (Rom 12:14–21).
Furthermore, both Paul and Peter only legitimate a limited range of activities for the state, specifically punishing evildoers and praising good-doers (Rom 13:3–4; 1 Pet 2:14). This provides no justification for any activities outside of this range. It only legitimates the state insofar as its activities are legitimate, which includes bearing “the sword” against “the evildoer”. Evidently this doesn’t even include retributive punishment, which Paul rejects wholesale in the immediate context, on the grounds that evil should be overcome with good and not further evil (Rom 12:17–21; cf. 3:8). As anarchists have long maintained, it’s possible for non-state entities to maintain justice, so this provides no justification for the necessity of the state, only a legitimation of some of its activities.
Finally, let’s look at Paul’s statement about taxes (Rom 13:6–7). He says that taxes should be paid “to whom taxes are due,” but like Jesus’ very similar statement (Matt 22:15–22), this leaves ambiguity about to whom they are owed, and what exactly is owed. N. T. Wright (1992, 502–7) makes a compelling case that Jesus’ statement is actually a reference to 1 Macc 2:67–68 and a coded subversive message. Paul goes on to say, “Owe [Gk: opheilete] no one anything except to love one another” (Rom 13:8), which bears on his earlier statement to “render to everyone their dues [Gk: opheilas]” (13:7). I would submit that for Paul, taxes aren’t properly owed to the state (the only thing owed to anyone is agapē), but because Christians are supposed to “be subject to” the state (as to an enemy), they must be willing to pay taxes or face the consequences.
It must be admitted that if this is the correct reading of Rom 13 and 1 Pet 2, it’s a pretty odd way for Paul and Peter to convey this message. But that may be expected, considering that Romans was written to the believing community in Rome, and 1 Peter is traditionally considered to have been written from Rome (“Babylon” at 1 Pet 5:13 is likely a code for Rome). If Paul and Peter were trying to convey a nonviolent yet subversive message, they would have to do so in a way that wasn’t immediately obvious to the Roman authorities. For this reason, it would actually be expected on an anarchist reading of these passages for the true message to be conveyed in a somewhat coded manner.
In this article, I presented the Scriptural case for Christian anarchism. Beginning with the Hebrew Bible, I showed that the polity form prescribed in the Mosaic Law (specifically, Deut 16–18) is much more horizontal than a typical ancient Near Eastern kingdom, with nearly all political power belonging to the whole community. The Deuteronomistic History presents the establishment of the Israelite monarchy as a terrible mistake which set Israel down the path to her exile. In his sermon on the mount, Jesus went even further and rejected retribution and hierarchy altogether in favor of horizontal relationships between persons (i.e., treating all people as you would want to be treated). The logic of agapē, which is central to the Christian ethic of the New Testament, is inherently horizontal and is most compatible with a left-wing anarchism within the modern political landscape.Conclusion
The horizontal logic of agapē can be clearly seen in the structure and actions of the earliest church. Economically, the early believers were concerned with maintaining parity of wealth, and in at least one case (the Jerusalem church) actually instituted a form of libertarian communism (Ac 2:44–47; 4:32–35). Politically, the earliest church rejected hierarchical leadership in favor of the servant leadership that Jesus advocated. Socially, the early believers opposed slavery, racial, and gender hierarchies, and refused to participate in the state’s monopoly on violence. Eschatologically, the earliest church looked forward to the ultimate consummation of God’s kingdom when human hierarchy would be abolished.
In conclusion, Christians who wish to consistently apply agapē across their lives, including their political views, should be anarchists. The church should not be focused on upholding or strengthening human hierarchies, but on subverting those very hierarchies using the logic of love. To be sure, believers shouldn’t be involved in violent revolution against the state, because the law of agapē forbids us from returning evil for evil. Fortunately, the “revolution” which is envisioned by most anarchists is not a violent one, but a transformation of society by creating new, horizontal institutions of mutual aid. This is a worthwhile revolution, which a consistent reading of the New Testament favors, which the earliest believers were involved in, and which Christians today should also support.
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