How do you “disparage and injure” your neighbor? According to Supreme Justice Anthony Kennedy, one way to do it would be to support marriage as being only between a man and a woman. It was a big week for the U.S. Supreme Court. They struck down the Defense of Marriage Act. Then, in a separate ruling, they let stand a federal judge’s ruling that California, contrary to California law and state constitution, must change the meaning of marriage to include not only husband and wife, but also, say, two guys who want to be known as married. 

What words in the Constitution could justify the Supreme Court enacting such a radical change in American law? Lawyers surely could have much fun with a question like that, but Justice Kennedy, writing the court’s majority opinion, voiced logic other than just the Constitution. In striking down DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act), Justice Kennedy was said that not recognizing homosexual marriages “demeans the couple” and “humiliates tens of thousands of children now being raised by same-sex couples.”[1] Kennedy’s argument was a carefully crafted explanation that the matter of marriage (and what constitutes one, etc.) belongs to the states.

Yet when the state of California’s constitution included an amendment stating that “Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California,” it was federal (not state) judges who said California had no constitutional right to thus regulate marriage. The U.S. Supreme Court, using legal arguments of who had “standing” in the case, upheld the ruling made by Federal Judges (Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals), thus effectively rejecting the authority of the state and wiping out what the voters of California had enshrined in their own constitution. So, in the case of DOMA, the federal lawmakers can pass no law upholding marriage of man and woman, for the authority belongs to the states. Yet in the case of the California constitution, the state cannot uphold the marriage of man and woman, at least not if a federal judge says they can’t. At least for now.

But this is necessary (at least the ruling striking down DOMA), says Justice Kennedy, because,

“The avowed purpose and practical effect of the law here in question [DOMA] are to impose a disadvantage, a separate status, and so a stigma upon all who enter into same-sex marriages made lawful by the unquestioned authority of the States.”[2]

And now Kennedy’s language of “disparaging and injuring” your neighbor if you understand marriage to be a man and a woman starts coming into to focus. Who wants to be known as one who “disparages and injures,” as one who “imposes disadvantages” and “stigmatizes” others?

And so we’re left with marriage built on … what? Or, for that matter, what is marriage? According to the Supreme Court ruling, marriage is an affirmation to a “commitment.” From the majority opinion:

“The laws of New York came to acknowledge the urgency of this issue for same-sex couples who wanted to affirm their commitment to one another before their children, their family, their friends, and their community …”[3]

The word used is “commitment.” But one might be committed, perhaps, to healthy eating habits and good hygiene, to the bank holding one’s house note, certainly to one’s country, even perhaps to a football team. Yet none of these are marriage. The language of “commitment” doesn’t quite bring us up to marriage.

In Bernalillo, New Mexico, the Reverend Pearl Gabaldon was conducting ceremonies of homosexual couples, marrying them under a specious reading of New Mexico law—the Reverend Gabaldon’s marriages were later struck down—by which the Sandoval County clerk was granting marriage licenses to homosexual couples. Pointing to a couple of women being “married,” the Reverend Gabaldon happily announced, “Look at the sincerity here.”[4] “Sincerity” works well with words such as “commitment.” But are we any closer to being able to say what marriage is?

The Reverends Grant Daversa and Renate Anne Daversa, who advertise themselves as doing “same-sex” weddings in San Diego, get a little closer to saying what marriage is:

“We believe that same-sex couples have the inherent right to celebrate and commemorate their commitment and that marriage is a uniquely personal union which expresses and affirms the love and commitment between two people.”[5]

So it’s something, and that something is a personal union that expresses and affirms love and commitment.

Speaking of marriage with words such as love and commitment and, for that matter, commemoration and celebration, has us standing on pretty squishy ground. Just what, after all, is the thing one is committed to or loving? It’s a “personal union” according to the language of the Reverends Daversa, but a personal union not quite standing on its own. Rather, it’s expressing and affirming something else—love and commitment. And that has us right back where we started.

Is it possible, though, to speak of marriage in a way that has us standing on firm ground of speaking of the thing itself? We can speak, for instance, of the birth of a child, to which the mother is surely committed, but her commitment doesn’t define the birth. The child’s birth stands on its own as what it is. We can speak of a man’s vocation of being, say, a police officer, which vocation one hopes he loves, but his love of his job doesn’t define the office. It stands on its own as what it is. Can we speak of marriage as what it is?

What is the essence of marriage? The nature? Even, perhaps, the necessity? And, for the Christian, can we make that argument without using Holy Scripture? That should be possible, for marriage is not of the order of redemption. It’s not, then, if we are speaking carefully, of the revelation of Jesus Christ. For Jesus Christ is revealed to save sinners. Yet marriage was given before sin. Marriage belongs not to the order of redemption, for which Scripture was given and is necessary, but to the order of creation, which places it not in realm of revelation (as is the case with such things as Scripture, the Gospel, and the Sacraments), but in the order of creation—it is in the realm of natural law.

Therefore, we should be able to speak of marriage without appealing to Holy Scripture. And that means that we can make the argument for marriage in the public square, even among those who have no regard for Holy Scripture.

So what is the argument for marriage? Its definition? Its necessity? A most helpful book is What Is Marriage? (hereafter referred to simply as WIM-AD).[6]

So, what marriage is:

“[Marriage] unites two people in their most basic dimensions, in their minds and bodies” (WIM-AD, 23).

What is this unity? We still have two persons, a husband and a wife. But the unity, WIM-AD points out, is analogous to the unity of organs in a body. The heart is in unity with the bones, which are both in unity with stomach, and so on. Each organ remains what it is, yet each is in unity in that it is ordered toward something along with the other organs. In the case of the body, the organs are in unity toward the health and life of the body. The heart alone accomplishes nothing, so with the bones, so with the brain, etc.

In marriage, what is the unity, and what is it ordered toward? The unity is found most physically at the point of the man’s and the woman’s sex organs. This is startling language, perhaps, but how else does one talk about “one fleshness” and the birth of children? There is complementarity. The man’s sex organ, by itself, produces no new life. The woman’s sex organ, the same. They compliment. Together, they are ordered toward something that is unique to their unity: a new life, procreation.

Marriage institutes this unique one-fleshness. In this way, two men cannot be one flesh with each other—there is no complementarity, their bodies do not fit up into a oneness, and there is no new life. Two women cannot be one flesh. Again, there is no complementarity, body parts just don’t fit up into a oneness, and there is no new life.

So if marriage is the unity of a man and woman, it means much more. It means that the man and the woman are united “with respect to procreation, family life, and its broad domestic sharing,” and it means that they are united “permanently and exclusively” (WIM-AD,  23, 34.).

There is much more to be said, and WIM-AD, while a relatively short book (128 pages), covers the ground well. Questions such as a healthy understanding of adoption or the problem of the death of a spouse give depth and appreciation to a right understanding of marriage and how the institution of marriage is beneficial to family and children even (especially?) in the case of a death or other adverse reality. The instance of a husband and wife unable to bear children, for example, does not mitigate against a right understanding of marriage for procreation and child rearing, but strengthens it; for marriage of man and woman is “a good in itself,” so recognizing the marriages of infertile couples serves at least one purpose: “to recall for us the truth, crucial for healthy and stable marriages generally, that marriage has value in itself” (WIM-AD, 77).

In this way, to speak of the exclusivity and permanence of the marriage of a man and woman is simply to recognize the purpose of bringing up children in a healthy, durable family setting, giving the best situation for stability, along with an appreciation of the complementarity of the role of the wife and the husband. More can be said (and WIM-AD says much more), but we should now be able to speak of marriage as an institution which gives the union of a man and a woman (complementarity, physical and otherwise; and exclusivity and permanence) ordered toward procreation, child-rearing, and healthy families, with a view to the well-being of our society and to following generations. This rescues us from the squishy language of the Reverends Daversa of “celebrating and commemorating a commitment,” or the Reverend Gabaldon giddily pointing to two women being “married,” and saying, “Look at the sincerity there,” or the unfortunate cynicism of Justice Kennedy arguing that those who contend for marriage as the union of a man and woman are “disparaging and injuring” their neighbors.

We can say that marriage is a true thing in itself—not just some commitment to some abstraction that can’t quite be defined on its own. We can say that marriage is not just love (for a brother loves a sister, a child loves a puppy, etc., but these are not marriage), nor just commitment (for a mother is committed to her child, a soldier is committed to his country, but these are not marriage), but is the actual exclusive, permanent, comprehensive union of a man and a woman ordered toward procreation and family life. And we can say this in the public square. Without appealing to Scripture, we can say it to those who have no regard for Scripture. We can say it with an appeal to natural law. And we can in our prayers, then, commend our neighbor, our nation, and our culture to our Lord who not only has created each person, but then has redeemed each with His own blood, and wants all to hear the revelation of His salvation, which salvation is known from … Holy Scripture.   

NOTES:
[1] Supreme Court of the United States, “Syllabus: United States v. Windsor , Executor of the Estate of Spyer, et. al,” http://www.supremecourt.gov/opinions/12pdf/12-307_6j37.pdf [accessed July 25, 2013], 23.
[2] Ibid, 21.
[3] Ibid, 14.
[4] ABQ Journal, “Same Sex Couples Line Up in Sandoval County to Get Married,” http://www.abqjournal.com/news/state/apwed02-20-04.htm [accessed July 25, 2013].
[5] Rev. Grant Daversa and Rev. Renate Daversa, “A Beautiful Ceremony,” http://www.abeautifulceremony.us/ [accessed July 25, 2013], and Rev. Renate Daversa, “Engayged Weddings,” http://www.engaygedweddings.com/ca/officiants/a-beautiful-ceremony.html [accessed July 25, 2013].
[6] Sherif Girgis, Ryan T. Anderson, and Robert P. George, What Is Marriage?: Man and Woman: A Defense (New York: New York, 2012).

Mid-October, Long Island, NY, on the campus of Hofstra University (known for Shakespeare festivals, better than average SAT scores, and its most famous graduate, Bernie Madoff ), two titans bestride the stage, ready to “turn-up-the-heat,” as reported by USA Today. In the first debate, the man from Boston had left the incumbent from Chicago licking his wounds. Will the wounded one rebound as he limps into debate number two? Should Barack Obama, the incumbent from Chicago, “come out swinging,” or would that “make him look desperate?” asked Jules Witcover, the Baltimore Sun’s campaign blow-by-blow man. 

Slow and plodding. Neither contestant scored a memorable knockdown, not even a standing eight-count. Neither took terribly wild swings—Obama didn’t bring up Romney’s penchant for transporting dogs on the roof of his car; Romney said nothing of young Obama’s penchant for eating dogs in Indonesia. Each candidate just kept punching away with the usual tired talking points, bringing 68 million TV viewers closer and closer to a fitful nap.

Until, that is, Benghazi. And the four dead Americans. The administration had been pushing the narrative that the killings resulted from a spontaneous demonstration caused by some Mohammed-bashing YouTube video out of Southern California, such that when the madcap Muslim demonstration got out of hand, the demonstrators started letting fly with mortar shells, and four innocent Americans (including an Ambassador) ended up dead. The president’s U.N. Ambassador, a hapless Susan Rice, had been sent out to say as much on all the T.V. networks. The doubters said, Not so fast—this was no demonstration, but a terrorist attack from the bowels of Al Qaeda.

Now the question would be settled. Did the president have his ambassador claim the murders sprang from a spontaneous demonstration, or had the president admitted from the first that it was, in fact, terror? The argument was joined, Obama straight up against Romney. The debate suddenly looked less like a listing of talking points, and more like that 15th round of the Ali-Frazier Fight of the Century.

Romney jumped out of the box, contending that Obama was now claiming that his administration had actually admitted from the very first that the murders were acts of terror. According a Romney, Obama was completely reversing his argument:

MR:     I—I think interesting the president just said something which—which is that on the day after the attack he went into the Rose Garden and said that this was an act of terror.

Obama doubled down.

BO:      That's what I said.

Romney moves in to cement his advantage.

MR:     You said in the Rose Garden the day after the attack, it was an act of terror? It was not a spontaneous demonstration, is that what you're saying?

Obama plays rope-a-dope, waiting for the debate to move to a different subject.

BO:      Please proceed governor.

Romney keeps pounding.

MR:     I want to make sure we get that for the record because it took the president 14 days before he called the attack in Benghazi an act of terror.

Obama parries (How long will this Romney guy keep pounding me on this one argument?).

BO:      Get the transcript.

And there it would have lain. A simple argument by Romney that the administration had claimed the Americans were murdered by a spontaneous demonstration gone feral; an argument by Obama that he had admitted it was terror all along, and anyone who wanted to look deeper could scour the Internet for the transcripts.

There the argument would have lain. But then, What’s this, a third voice? Enter Candy Crowley, the moderator. She’s on no one’s side except that of having a fair and balanced debate. But now she enters herself not as referee between two parties, but an advocate for one.

CC:      It—it—it—he [Obama] did in fact, sir. So let me—let me call it an act of terror.

A pummeled Obama, recognizing his chance to come off the ropes, seizes the life-line.

BO:      Can you say that a little louder, Candy?

Crowley relishes the fight, too, and comes on even stronger for her man.

CC:      He—he did call it an act of terror.

Then, almost as if seeing the thin facts run through her fingers, Crowley stretches for an escape route by admitting that maybe the administration’s narrative didn’t face up to the terror thing for quite some time (almost as if it’s dawning on her that she’s not supposed to be an advocate in this argument, but a referee).

CC:      It did as well take—it did as well take two weeks or so for the whole idea there being a riot out there about this tape to come out. You [Romney] are correct about that.

And so the whole debate drifted to a merciful end, the two opponents limping off the stage, neither having scored a knockdown, no one knowing who to cheer as the winner, and a moderator having saved her man from a KO by becoming, if only for a moment, his advocate.

But this argument, this awkward conversation (for this is not the only place in human affairs we expect to see an argument)—are we somehow eerily comfortable with it? Is it, somehow, the way we understand the human conversation? We don’t, after all, react and walk away, as if it’s an alien mystery. We seem uncannily at home around the argument—like Brer Rabbit in the briars. A football coach arguing with the ref, a defense attorney arguing with the prosecutor, a child arguing with parent, an American Idol judge arguing with another judge. Where could we look in human affairs and find ourselves shocked to find the argument?

Another time, another location. This time, not 2012, but about 520 BC. Not at Hofstra, but at the Council in Heaven, which is known not for Shakespeare festivals, high SAT scores, and Bernie Madoff, but for the Lord Yahweh upon his Throne and the angels and archangels in array.

Yahweh is there, presiding; Joshua the priest is there, standing in for the sinner (he’s guilty as sin and dressed in the filthy garments of shame); the Angel of the Lord is there; and another angel, the fallen one, Satan, stands at his post, ready to press the case against every sinner.

Satan starts it off by laying the accusation: Joshua is guilty as sin, and no one at the Throne of Heaven dare deny it.

Yahweh upon the throne, he’s the judge, the moderator, we might say. But wait, he’s not sitting as an impartial judge. Instead, he enters himself into the conversation as advocate, and advocate for the defendant (Joshua, the sinner) at that.

Yahweh:          “The Lord rebuke you, O Satan!” (Zechariah 3)

If Satan has his accusation ripped from his hands, what becomes of the argument?

Then the voice of the Angel of the Lord:

“Remove the filthy garments from [Joshua the sinner].”

And, to Joshua,

“Behold, I have taken your sin from you and I clothe you in regal robes.”

Is this the way we’re to understand our God, as in an argument? Especially one with regard to the sinner? Is it the way we’re to understand our conversations with each other?

Perhaps there’s a profound reason why we’re not surprised by the ongoing argument around us here on Earth.

Our God, after all, is a conversing God. Even before anything is created, there is the conversation—the Father speaks to the Son, sending him forth, and there is light, and there is water, and land, and all the rest: Creation. (See Genesis 1-2, John 1) Creation is accomplished by a conversation between persons! The Holy Spirit is there, too, swooping over creation—the image is, what, a dove? The Holy Spirit is delivering Words, creating life. The words are the Father’s. He gives them to his Son. His Son speaks them—a creative conversation. The Holy Spirit is in on the deliberation. By the three persons in deliberation, creation is brought forth. And in the midst of this thriving creation, the Three Persons set their image. It’s man and woman. They speak to one another—again, a gift from their God who wants, always, a conversation of love and life, of creation and procreation.

But another comes into the conversation, which wouldn’t have been a problem, but he enters with his own words, hissing, Did God really say? It’s Satan entering the Genesis conversation, the same Satan standing as the sinner’s prosecutor at the Council of Heaven in Zechariah 3. Doubt is now reigns in the conversation, and what used to be healthy, creative conversation is now dangerously a conversation of deceit and despair.

It started as conversation—healthy, life-giving, creative. Can we understand our humanity apart from the conversation? We were the image of God on Earth, created by the conversation of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We, his image on Earth, would enjoy his creation, and extol and take care of it, and we would procreate, all in this setting of God-given conversation.

The conversation turned into argument when Satan introduced words not from God, and that argument would be the way we would from then on understand our humanity. 

But then--Who could’ve seen this coming?—God came down and joined the argument. He was judge, the one moderating the courtroom, and that was bad news to the sinner, who wanted to play rope-a-dope, hoping to sneak out of the courtroom during a break. But the judge repositioned himself. The sinner looks at the bench only to find the judge is now his number one defender, his advocate. And the Angel of the Lord, the One we thought would be sent forth as a slayer of the unrighteous (he had been in the past), is now dressing the sinner in clean robes.

Maybe there’s a reason why we understand things on Earth according to the argument, why we’re not surprised to see the lawyer arguing with the judge, the governor arguing with the president, even the husband with the wife, why we’re no more surprised than if we were to see a rabbit running in briars. As God’s Image on Earth, we understand everything as a God-given conversation. And when we bring sin into to that conversation, everything now becomes argument. And now, recreated as God’s Image by the Gospel (the new creation of the man of faith), we understand how God enters with his voice of Gospel, cleansing the sinner and creating the new life. So, embrace the argument. By your voice (you are, after all, the new man of faith, the Image of God), God is speaking his Word into our world. It’s the Word of life. And that’s not a bad argument.

Warren Graff
Grace Lutheran Church, Albuquerque

The exact text of the First Amendment may escape us, but who doesn’t remember the gist: Freedom of Religion, Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Assembly. Here’s the text:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Freedom of Religion means what? Thomas Jefferson famously spoke of a wall of separation between church and state. Strong language, especially in a world accustomed to the state (the king) often building the actual foundations and walls of churches. James Madison spoke of “the great Barrier.” That’s even stronger. A barrier sounds almost martial—erecting barricades to repel the armed invaders. And Madison is no flack hurling grenades from the sideline to score political points. He’s the one who drafted the First Amendment. When he speaks of “the great Barrier” Madison is contending that the government not be allowed “to overleap the great Barrier which defends the rights of the people.” The Barrier should be impenetrable, so that the government can’t breach the free exercise of religion.

That was in 1785 that Madison wrote of the great Barrier. In just a few years, he would write the words of the First Amendment, and from then on, every American would know that the “free exercise of religion” was a constitutionally guaranteed right—non-negotiable. 

Fast forward to 2013. The President of the United States stands in front of a crowd “on a hot, steamy Texas afternoon,” as reported by the Huffington Post. He’s there for what must be the most painful task a U.S. president can have. Nidal Malik Hasan, while shouting “Allahu Akbar,” had murdered 13 people in cold blood and wounded others in one of the worst domestic terror attacks since 9/11. And President Obama, “on a hot, steamy Texas afternoon,” was there to speak of justice, of rights, and of comfort. The President solemnly spoke the victims’ names, reverently introducing each with a few words of who they were and how they had honored their nation with their service. He spoke of our nation’s commitment to justice and to “due process of the law,” and then, in the face of raw Islamic terrorism, the President declared, “We are a nation that guarantees the freedom to worship as one chooses.” 

But wait. Is there a change being slipped in? The First Amendment says nothing of worship. It’s about the freedom of religion. Are worship and religion synonyms? Why the shift? Words do mean something, and when they’re being shifted, that means something too.

Back, then, to Madison, who wrote the un-shifted words of the First Amendment’s “freedom of religion.” An Islamic terrorist may not be expected to understand what is given in those words (though Major Hasan should’ve—he had vowed to defend that Constitution), but, certainly, any American citizen should understand the words, and any Christian might want to contemplate what religion “and the free exercise thereof” means for the Christian’s life under such a constitutional government.

So what did Madison’s un-shifted words mean? It was in a letter to the General Assembly of the Commonwealth of Virginia in 1785 that Madison had written of “the great Barrier” which the government must not be allowed to “overleap.” In front of the assembly was a bill that would allow the government to use tax money to finance government approved religious schools. But, as Madison pointed out, as good as teaching the Christian religion may sound, the problem was in the government, which was now getting ready to “overleap” the great Barrier. For, if the government schools could determine what religion was to be taught, then that implies that “the Civil Magistrate is a competent Judge of Religious Truth,” or worse, that the Magistrate could “employ Religion as an engine of Civil Policy.” You can’t have that, says Madison. It leads to “an unhallowed perversion of the means of salvation.” 

Madison’s concern is not just with good civil government. It is with good civil government that protects the rights of the citizen in order that the government not encroach on the citizen’s conscience. The government is not to be coercive in this. Each citizen, according to Madison, retains “an equal title to the free exercise of Religion according to the dictates of Conscience.” In speaking of “conscience,” Madison was only quoting from Virginia’s constitution, using words already in general acceptance. And there, in the constitution, conscience is a matter of each person’s (not the government’s) “reason and conviction.” From Virginia’s constitution (Bill of Rights, section 16): 

Religion, or the duty which we owe to our Creator, and the manner of discharging it, can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence; and therefore all men are equally entitled to the free exercise of religion, according to the dictates of conscience ...

So, religion (as distinct from worship) is not confined to the four walls of the church building on Sunday morning. It is “the duty which we owe our Creator.” This “religion” is directed by a citizen’s “reason and conviction.” In this way, all men are entitled to “the free exercise of religion” as dictated by their own conscience. Don’t let government overleap that great Barrier, Madison would counsel the free citizen.

When President Obama, on that “hot, steamy Texas afternoon,” declared that “we are a nation that guarantees the freedom of worship,” it was no outlier. Secretary of State Clinton, for instance, issued a press release for “International Human Rights Day” (December 10, 2012) touting our efforts in “advancing universal freedoms ... including the freedom to speak, the freedom to assemble, and the freedom to worship.” Not a word about the freedom of religion. It has been widely noted that Secretary Sebelius (HHS) uses the same “freedom of worship” language.

Dateline, Jefferson City, Missouri, Associated Press, March 18, 2013: “A federal judge has struck down a Missouri law exempting moral objectors from mandatory birth control coverage because it conflicts with an insurance requirement under President Barrack Obama’s health care law.” So, legally, no moral objection to mandatory birth control coverage is allowed. Mandatory birth control coverage, by the way, includes the citizen being required to pay for not only birth control, but also abortifacients and abortions. 

Birth control, abortifacients, and abortions, that has us in the realm of the Commandments. The Commandments, that has us in the realm of the conscience, which is informed by the Lord’s Word—the word of Law convicting of sin, bringing the conscience into guilt and shame,  the word of Gospel, justifying the sinner, bestowing a cleansed conscience.   
So when we’re in the realm of the Commandments, what is the standing of our government? The Lord puts earthly governments in place to protect and promote those things He has instituted in the Commandments, the things of parents and families (4th Commandment), of human life (5th), of the marriage of a man and woman (6th), of home and property, farm and business, and reputation (7th-10th)—this is Caesar wielding the sword. But the Lord doesn’t put governments in place to rule over the conscience. For, while the government is given to be concerned with those things instituted by the Law, the government can say nothing of cleansing the sinner’s conscience. 

This conscience does leave the Christian subject to governing authorities (it’s not as if the Christian can ever set himself apart from his world, drifting out on his own, untethered from neighbor and society). But, as Luther notes, the Christian is subject to the governing authorities “to do what they order, so long as they do not bind our conscience and so long as they give commands that pertain to external matters only, even though they deal with us as tyrants do.” What are these “external matters” that do not coerce the conscience? The secular government is to be concerned with such things as “how to secure and fortify the cities, build bridges, fix tolls, levy taxes, provide protection, defend the land and its people, and punish evildoers.” That’s how “Caesar” is to bear the sword (see Rom. 13:1-6). “Therefore,” says Luther, “a Christian can surely be obedient to such a prince, provided that the prince does not give any commands that do violence to a Christian’s conscience” (see, “Divine Kingdom, Holy Order: The Political Writings of Martin Luther,” p. 154, CPH, 2012).

Now we can see the distinction between “freedom of worship” and “freedom of religion” as these terms are used in our culture. Freedom of worship leaves you inside the four walls of the church, doing whatever you want as an exercise of worship. But freedom of religion, which includes worship, also has you outside the walls of the church, in society, speaking and acting as a citizen of uncoerced conscience. That can’t be allowed, though, if your conscience would have you “in conflict” with government requirements to finance “mandatory birth control.” (Madison had spoken of “force and violence” coming from the government. That has been softened to “mandatory.”)

The Christian’s conscience, of course, remains free. Free, certainly, with regard to the Gospel, which cleanses the conscience and frees from the retribution of God’s Law. Free, then, as we are given to live our lives toward our neighbor. Free from coercion, from “force and violence” by a government that would mandate anything against those institutions our Lord establishes in his Commandments. This is Madison’s great Barrier, where constitutional law restrains the government from treading on Freedom of Religion. Where that great Barrier is overleaped, the conscience is being overridden. Yet the Christian’s conscience hears only the Word of the Lord.

Can we do this? Are we able to use our best knowledge, our most powerful mathematics, and our most enlightened elites, to design models that will overcome the ills and press for efficiencies in every corner of society? It’s a tempting thought: Use the power of statistical analysis, of mathematical modeling, to accurately quantify all known variables, and then predict the outcome of a particular policy that will benefit the most people. 

We live in a generation of materialism. Not just the surface materialism of a young man wanting the flashiest car or a young lady wanting all the designer shoes and purses, but the deep materialism which refuses to know anything except that which is of this material world. Matter and energy, that is all we can know in our physical world. Anything beyond matter and energy, we can’t observe with our eyes, nor hear with our ears, and we certainly can’t count it up and control it with our scientific observations. 

So materialism leaves us with what we can quantify and control in our physical world. Humans, too, are reduced to physical beings (which they are, to be sure, but are they something more, too?). Understanding everything according to materialism gives us much power. Using our math and physical sciences, we can understand and quantify everything in our society, so that when something goes wrong, we just adjust the variables to get a better outcome—the optimum outcome. In this way, any engineer, statistician, or economist quickly learns in college the power of the mathematical regression. 

Regression analysis allows the researcher (or policy maker) to line up all the variables of a particular problem (say, the problem of getting traffic across New York City, or the problem of educating every child, or of getting everyone to buy the acceptable food), and by analyzing changes and effects in historical data, we can then calculate what will happen when one or more of the variables is changed. This allows us to predict outcomes for proposed policies. And what sociologist is not more than willing to tell us how education will be improved if only we will spend more money on a particular program, or what economist will not quickly tell us how spending “x” number of dollars on this project will increase employment by “y” percent? If we want people to eat more “good” food, just tax the “bad” food today, subsidize the “good,” and everyone will be healthy tomorrow.

But the predictions don’t always come true. Sometimes they do. But when predictions come true only sporadically, that’s not prediction, it’s happenstance. So what are we actually able to do with math? Mathematical regressions are powerful, to be sure. Engineers and scientists use them to much benefit. But they are dealing in the physical world, with physical things like steel and concrete, water and energy. But can you design societies, model whole economies, predict the outcomes, and forecast human actions? 

King Solomon had one of the great economies of world history (930-970 BC). His kingdom stretched from Egypt up into modern day Syria; it included political power reaching into the area of modern day Iraq. He established a shipping industry which traded in ports along North Africa, and very likely even over to Spain. His building projects, political and military alliances, and trading partnerships brought unheard of economic wealth to Israel. Solomon’s was a strong economy that was to endure until his son Rehoboam destroyed the kingdom. Upon assuming the throne, Rehoboam determined to raise taxes on the citizenry by demanding more labor, and ended up splitting the kingdom in two with his oppression. 

In building the kingdom, Solomon knew how to use numbers, how to quantify goods and labor and use them efficiently. The accounting Scripture gives of the gold and silver, of the lumber brought from the North, of the hundreds of thousands of bushels of wheat and millions of gallons of olive oil used in trade, of three year circuits of shipping transits used for international commerce, of the great construction projects, boggles the mind. Solomon was concerned with the economic production of the nation, knowing that a king benefits his nation when he is committed to a productive economy—“cultivated fields,” in Solomon’s words (Ecclesiastes 5:9). 

Solomon oversaw great growth in the economic strength of Israel. But later in life, with the benefit of hindsight (he wrote the book of Ecclesiastes as an old man, looking back over a lifetime of achievements), he became concerned with the impossibility of using numbers for things they are not able to do, and with the problems of designing programs to control a nation.   

“That which is crooked is not able to be straightened,” said Solomon, “and that which is deficient is not able to be quantified” (Ecclesiastes 1:15 ). Is Solomon not at least somewhat autobiographical here? Had he seen the vain attempts not only of other governments, but also his own? “I saw all the oppressions that are done under the sun,” said Solomon, using a Hebrew word for oppression that refers to the exploitation of the poor,  “and behold, the tears of the oppressed, and behold, they had no one to comfort them. On the side of their oppressors there was power, and there was no one to comfort them” (Ecclesiastes 4:1). What oppression had Solomon seen even in his own kingdom as he was building up the great programs? 

Yet, despite the vanity of it all, the pursuit of the fixing every problem, of “straightening the crooked,” of pursuing a utopia, never ends. “I turned my heart,” says Solomon, “to searching out … the scheme of things” (Ecclesiastes 7:25). The word Solomon uses here for scheme comes from the root word that refers to weaving things together—a tapestry. There is here the idea of constructing intricate patterns and complex systems. This is done with numbers, by quantifying what is known, designing, and forecasting what is expected, “adding one thing to another to find the scheme” (Ecclesiastes 7:27). Could the wise king not as easily have said, “Quantifying all known variables to determine the system”? And there we have our modern mathematical regressions designing great programs. 

But the great programs won’t work because control and prediction of people and human societies is outside the realm of mathematics. For while math can quantify all known variables and bring them under control, there is something it can neither quantify nor control: the human person; the creativity, the imagination of the person; a person’s exercise of his own talents and vocational gifts which could never have been predicted. 

If a king—a government—can’t control all the variables, and is unable to design a system that will find the optimum efficiency for all factors and persons in the land, then what is a government to do? Just sit back and let people starve? Is there a positive program to pursue?
 
There is. The king, the government, is given a very definite, positive program: Protect the institutions. The institutions set all things in place for a healthy society, for a functioning economy without oppression. These institutions are those things established by the Lord in his Commandments. The government is given to be concerned with the things of the Second Table of the Law. Institution #1: Family and home (Commandment 4). Institution #2: Life and legitimacy of the person, protection of neighbor (Commandment 5). Institution #3: Marriage of Man and Woman, respect and honor for chaste and pure lives. Institution #4: Private property, wealth, and possessions (Commandment 7). Institution #5: Establishment of just courts, justice against slander and corruption, protection of contracts (Commandment 8). Institution #6: House and home, farm and ranch, property and business (Commandments 9-10).  

This gives a government more than enough to do. It’s a matter of “wielding the sword” for justice. But that’s a lot easier, and more reasonable, for a government to do than pursuing a utopia by designing great systems to address every ill, garnering more and more power along the way. As Solomon looks back on his reign, he sees his failures and overreaches, and is able to say, “This is the end of the matter, all has been heard: Fear God and guard his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man” (Ecclesiastes 12:14).