During the annual Christianity and National Security Conference, Jon Askonas presented an Anglican view of political theology. The following is a transcript of the lecture.

Thank you, Mark. I agreed many months ago to participate in the conference. Mark asked if I would speak again at our national security conference, and I said yes. Then I was stunned to get an email where he had proposed a topic for me: Anglican statecraft. I looked at the schedule and realized I’m speaking after lunch. Then I arrived today and discovered I’m not only after lunch but also following the brilliant and eloquent Baptist, Paul Miller. So, Mark wanted me to defend the established religion of the Church of England to a room full of American Baptists, in the post-lunch torpor, following one of the most brilliant defenders of Baptist statecraft. My only conclusion is that Mark Tooley had it out for me. I would remind him that both Charles and John Wesley lived and died as Anglicans, and that Methodism is, if anything, a younger sibling within the Anglican Communion.

I think I have three things to commend my speech in contrast to my friend and frequent debate partner Paul Miller. First, I think what I have to say will be a bit novel. I had to scratch my head with this topic because there is little written about Anglican statecraft or Anglican political theology, at least recently. There has been some revival thanks to folks like Brad Littlejohn and the David Institute, and anything valuable I say can be credited to them; any mistakes or historical errors are my own. So, I think what I have to say will be novel. I think I also have the benefit of being right, or at least able to poke some holes in what Paul just said. Finally, as is often the case in debates between Anglicans and Baptists, I will speak briefly, where he spoke at length.

Let’s get started. I’ll offer four distinct elements that contribute to a distinctly Anglican mode of statecraft. Now, to even speak of an Anglican mode of statecraft is to gather together many disparate and contradictory themes within the history of the Christian church and even of the Anglican church. If Anglicanism is anything, it has always been a somewhat discordant mix of people brought together by historical circumstances. I actually think this is a beautiful, important, distinctive, and valuable part of Anglicanism that I hope to defend.

I will also make these claims in contrast to two other important modes of Christian political theology: the Anabaptist tradition (of which Baptists are the more reasonable members—the majority of Anabaptists are no longer with us due to some extremities and contradictions in their theology) and the Roman Catholic tradition. I was also surprised to hear Paul claim the American founding for Baptists. I think the father of our country, George Washington, might be surprised to hear that, as would the majority of presidents, who have been Episcopalian, Presbyterian, or Methodist.

Before getting to what I think are these four distinct elements, I want to stipulate something distinctive and often difficult to understand about Anglicanism, something I, raised Baptist, had to come to understand. Anglicanism has a distinctly historical way of thinking about the church and its life. It doesn’t begin with a set of creeds or systematic theology held to be completely true or completely aligned with scripture, though there are theological efforts faithful to scripture and Christian tradition. Nor does it claim to be the sole representation of Christianity on earth. It does, however, claim that the church is a reality on earth, an important part of its statecraft, as I’ll explain.

The first of these four elements is that Anglican statecraft is realistic about the relationship between faith and the state, and faith and the nation. One could say the nation-state, though it’s not something transcendent and beyond the people. Rather, the nation represents the life of the people, and the state is the magistrate responsible for that life. Anglicanism, or Anglican statecraft, takes a high view of the magistrate’s spiritual role. The Anabaptist tradition effectively rejects this, not necessarily the role of the state but the state as teacher or moral exemplar. On the other hand, the Catholic tradition affirms the magistrate’s spiritual role and, by virtue of it, holds that the state is subject to the moral and often political power of the Roman Church.

I contend that Anglicanism seeks to preserve the medieval consensus on the magistrate’s role. The anti-Catholic article of the 39 Articles states, “The Pope has no authority in the realm of England,” a direct quote from the Statute of Praemunire of 1392, promulgated 200 years before the Reformation. The medieval position, in contrast to Vatican pronouncements, was that while the Pope held moral authority, political and temporal authority belonged to particular princes and magistrates responsible to particular peoples. So, while the Pope had universal jurisdiction, the magistrate held necessarily local and placed authority. At the same time, it did not reject the state’s spiritual importance or the magistrate’s role. Anglican statecraft would hold that state power intersects with faith and with the object of Christian government: protecting and developing a Christian society, one that may not bring heaven to earth but at least seeks to grow in grace. This enterprise is inseparable from state power, and any political theology rejecting this is unrealistic and ignores how so-called secular political theology simply replaces one faith with another. The passage of history seems to support this, as any state claiming neutrality on faith and morals eventually proves otherwise.

The second element of Anglican statecraft is an emphasis on freedom of conscience. Freedom of conscience, as the Anabaptists would have it, amounted to a total freedom of subjective moral belief in worship and in life. Early Baptist life, for instance in Roger Williams’ colony, adopted unusual modes of worship and behavior with serious social implications. Anglican statecraft centers on the fact that the state cannot compel belief. It respects and acknowledges a range of beliefs and, over time, further respects various forms of worship. But it never backs down from the notion that the state has a spiritual role as teacher. There is the famous saying, “Lex orandi, lex credendi”—the law of prayer is the law of belief, or simply, the law.

Anglican statecraft has emphasized common public words of worship and an accessible public liturgy. It was the Church of England, under King James, that produced the King James Bible, which so many Baptists love to use. The Church of England also produced the Book of Common Prayer, allowing a great breadth of theological belief and churchmanship, all centered on a common mode of prayer. This common prayer fosters the spiritual life of the people. There’s a reason that in the English-speaking world, phrases from the King James Bible and the Book of Common Prayer form the classic expressions of prayer, even in Methodism and beyond Anglicanism. If you go to a Baptist church with traditional wedding language, you’ll hear phrases from the Book of Common Prayer.

The third distinctive character of Anglican statecraft is its ecumenism. Anglicanism, because it does not hold itself as the sole receiver of true belief or the sole church on earth, has modest claims about other Christian forms and eagerly cooperates within the broader creedal tradition. There’s a reason Mere Christianity was written by an Anglican, C.S. Lewis. From the 16th century onward, the Church of England was in communion with other reformed churches and has sought to expand the breadth of its communion among baptized believers. This cooperation, ecumenism, and modesty is an important part of Anglican statecraft and encouraged cooperation on faith matters as the British Empire expanded.

This is in contrast to the Anabaptist tradition, which seeks ever more pure expressions of belief, and to Roman Catholicism, which bases ecumenism on submission to the Pope. The last distinctive element of Anglican statecraft, I believe, is a kind of Evangelicalism. This may seem unusual to describe as statecraft, but historically, a state’s position in world order can often be seen through its missionaries. Based on this ecumenism, the expanding British Empire was open to missionaries from non-conformist branches—Baptists, Presbyterians, Methodists, and others. This cooperation was under the aegis of the Royal Navy and growing military power, yet subservient to Christian faith and morality as understood and taught by Anglicanism. It’s no coincidence that early missionaries in West Africa were under British cannon protection. The China Inland Mission had at least the implicit protection of British forces in the region. This had tremendous impact on world history.

The political scientist Robert Woodbury published an important article, “The Missionary Roots of Liberal Democracy,” which showed that the single greatest predictor of whether a developing state would achieve liberal democracy was the presence of what he called “conversionary Protestants.” Most of the time, these were implicitly protected by the British state in its imperial form. What was distinctive about these conversionary Protestants was their serious commitment to evangelism and a form of Christianity based on freedom of conscience, emphasizing interior conversion. Perhaps under some pressure from nonconformists and Puritans, they emphasized real, interior conversion centered around a high view of language, the Bible, and common forms of prayer. Wherever English-speaking missionaries went, they established colleges, printing presses, and educational institutions. This infrastructure, over hundreds of years, has been strongly correlated with the presence of stable democracies today.

So, having looked at the past 400 years of history and tried to discern in that fog some clear themes of what could be described as an Anglican statecraft, this is what I’ve come up with. I’ll end there and am happy to take any questions.

Q&A

Question: Thank you. My name is Alex from Colorado Christian University. I was wondering if you could elaborate a bit more on your last point? I think that’s something I wrestle with. Just being here at this conference, talking about the various subjects discussed, I think the point you made—that missionaries have influenced politics to that degree—is important.

Answer: Yes, I think missionaries influence politics; missionary activity moderated other forms of avarice rooted in greed and power politics, which were byproducts of empire, especially during the new imperialism of the 19th century. Missionary activity was a significant motivator for European society’s expansion into the world, though it took many forms. This is a value judgment, but I can’t help but think the version under Anglicanism struck a better balance between the need for conversion—the belief that Christianity is true and that God desires every person to enter a relationship with Him through Christ’s sacrifice—and the understanding that faith can’t be forced through violence.

Returning to my contrasts with Anabaptist and Catholic traditions, I think the Anabaptist position, which emphasizes evangelism, doesn’t fully address the revolutionary nature of Christianity. As Christianity spread globally, often as part of European expansion, it encountered political resistance; missionaries were killed, Christians were persecuted and martyred. We should take seriously the notion that some state power to protect missionaries and converted Christians was justified, and I think that’s what Anglicanism largely did. Anglicanism was also responsible for abolition; British warships broke the back of the slave trade in West Africa. That contrasts with the Anabaptist position.

On the other hand, because of its ecumenism and emphasis on freedom of conscience, Anglicanism was hesitant about a version of state power projecting both church and state authority. Most evangelism wasn’t part of British state efforts; it was missionary societies and civil society religious groups. However, it was under the protection of the British Empire. This may be a controversial view, but I think it’s a distinctive element of Anglican statecraft.

I should add that this was a retrospective view. Anglicanism today looks very different, largely because of this history and is now more centered in the global south. I think that’s a positive development, though there are tensions between the Church of England, the Episcopal Church, GAFCON, and the African Church. The future of this enterprise is uncertain.

Question: Nate from Liberty University. Quick question: Do you see America, less so now, but in the post-Cold War unipolar sense, as fulfilling a similar role to British warships in the 19th century in influencing nations to release missionaries like Pastor Brunson?

Answer: Yes. I was thinking about this as I listened to Paul’s talk and considering where the United States fits in after it took Britain’s place as a global hegemon. Protection of missionaries has been a steadfast part of European diplomacy since the 15th century, going back to the Crusades. So, I do think that’s an important aspect of international law and diplomacy today, and the U.S. continues to play a role. Especially now, as an advocate of religious freedom, it matters that the world’s most powerful country is also its biggest advocate for religious freedom.

Question: Hi, my name is Geo from the University of Dallas. My question is related to the second question. Do you think this vision of Anglican statecraft will divide the Anglican Communion? I’m Catholic but was Episcopalian, and I saw more of a trend away from medieval Christianity in the Anglican community, while in other parts of the Anglican Communion that trend isn’t as pronounced.

Answer: Great question. I think I forgot to mention that the example of Anglican statecraft isn’t a theologian—it’s her majesty, Queen Elizabeth II. She is the only remaining anointed Christian monarch in Europe; no Catholic country anoints its monarchs anymore. Her religion is, as far as anyone knows, very prayer-book-centered, simple, yet devout. To me, she’s the exemplar. The uncertainty about what will happen under her son or grandson speaks volumes about the uncertainty of Anglican statecraft’s future. I wouldn’t discount the possibility of a serious revival in the Church of England or a return to orthodoxy, but it’s not foreordained. So yes, I think the future of Anglican statecraft is in question. If the Church of England and the African Anglican Church were to schism, the African churches would likely continue this model of Anglican statecraft, while the Church of England might become just another national church without this broader vision.

Thank you.