Fear Starmer?

What UK evangelicals mean when they talk about fear, trust, and liberty in politics

In a week’s time, Keir Starmer will almost certainly be Prime Minister. What should British Christians, and my fellow evangelicals in particular, be thinkign about as we stare down the barrel of five years of Labour in government?

When it comes to discussing politics, British evangelicals tend to default to three main themes.

The first is fear. In an undeniably post-Christian Britain, one in which we have entered the Negative World (which I wrote about when I launched The New Albion), there are clear threats to Christians being able to exercise their faith. Fear, then, is an understandable response. But of course, the most common command in Scripture is “do not be afraid.” Often it refers to not being afraid of God, but it refers plenty to external threats. Psalm 27:1 leaps to mind for me: “The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?” Particularly pertinent verses for political fear, ones which have inspired martyrs, can be found in Matthew 10:28-31:

Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

The basic evangelical thought here is that if you are expressing severe concern about political events, such as election outcomes, then you are living in sinful fear.

The second common evangelical theme is that of trust. The key text is often Psalm 146:3: “Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save.” Similarly, Psalm 20:7: “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.” The basic thought here is that if an evangelical is insisting that a particular political outcome (e.g. a certain party or candidate being elected, a certain law or ruling being passed) would be better for Christians or their concerns, then they are probably sinfully “trusting in princes” to “build God’s kingdom on earth”, which we should not do because Jesus’ kingdom “is not of this world” (John 18:36).

The third theme is liberty. The doctrine of Christian liberty rests on the principle that “all things are lawful” (1 Cor. 10:23) for Christians—and thus, we cannot bind people’s consciences by insisting on or restricting specific behaviours which Scripture doesn’t respectively command or prohibit. And so, people are free to support, or vote for, or not vote for any party they like. Anyone making moral pronouncements about Christian political involvement is legalistically binding people’s consciences and impinging upon Christian liberty.

Each of these evangelical emphases I agree with. Christians should not fear, should not trust in rulers, and should not condemn one another in areas of liberty.

However. The truth is that when British evangelicals—and especially some of its leading figures—bring up these themes, they are incredibly imprecise about what they actually mean, and, through rhetorical sleight of hand, effectively shut down Christian political discussion beyond these basic themes.

Understanding fear

Take fear. What does the Bible really mean when it counsels Christians not to be afraid? I think two things mainly: do not fear for your eternal destiny, and do not fear that God cannot use circumstances for his glory. Matthew 10:28 sums up the first point: “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.” Romans 8:28 sums up the second point: “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” 

Of course, none of this means that God won’t ordain awful things to happen to us.“The good of those who live him” may well be their being conformed to Christ by a martyr’s death; the good of the church may come about, in God’s providence, by its frequent persecution and suffering.

Now: is fearing for your soul or God’s ability to ultimately work good the same as having severe concerns about the outcome of an election? Certainly, the temptation for such fear can and does arise there. But it is not necessarily sinfully fearful to dread the election of certain leaders when you know that they will actively make life difficult for you as a Christian, and for your neighbour. 

But the way British evangelicals talk about “fear” in politics acts as if the expression of legitimate political concern arising from legitimate self-interest and love for your neighbours is necessarily a sinful expression of fear. There is so often a sleight of hand here, where even the most concrete concerns delivered in the most measured way are branded as “fear”. It is hard to deny that this is something that we have adopted from the political left, who are always quick to accuse conservatives of indulging in a “politics of fear”. This is an incredibly easy brush to tar people with, and if you succeed then they are effectively silenced in political conversation, as fearmongers are regarded as invalid conversation partners.

Understanding trust

Now consider trust. What does the Bible really mean when it counsels Christians not to trust in princes and chariots? I take it to mean that they should not think that God’s eternal purpose to redeem the cosmos in Christ will be achieved by earthly rulers, or that alignment with a certain political setup grants individual salvation. Such beliefs are incompatible with the invisible, spiritual nature of God’s kingdom (e.g. the Parable of the Growing Seed in Mark 4:26-29) and with the doctrine of justification by faith alone (e.g. Eph. 2:8-9).

Now: is equating a specific political ruler with God’s purposes, or trusting in a political affiliation for salvation, the same as pointing out that some political parties will be obviously better for Christians, and will be better at preserving the God-given structure of society which Christians should support? Again, the temptation to place too much or the wrong kind of trust in rulers can and does arise here. But it is not necessarily a sinful misplacement of trust to acknowledge that certain political parties will be better at allowing Christians to “live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness” (1 Timothy 2:2) and at preserving the most basic aspects of God-given society, such as the family.

But the way that British evangelicals talk about “trust” in politics acts as if talking about the realities of which parties most support religious liberty or a basically Christian view of society is necessarily a misplacement of trust. But this is just not the case. Again, there is sleight of hand here. When evangelicals start talking about “trust” in politics, they assume it is synonymous with “saving faith”; thus, if they hear someone say “I’ve put my trust in candidate X”, alarm bells ring. But common sense makes it obvious that we use “trust” in different ways. The trust you give a politician is different to that you give to God. 

The problem arises when the two kinds of trust blur, but more often than not it is the apolitical British evangelicals who blur the two, not those who are politically engaged. The former assume that to talk realistically about preferable political parties or decisions is to blur those lines; in my experience, politically engaged British evangelicals are generally very clear that putting their “faith” in a certain leader or party is not the same thing as putting saving faith in them.

I think that this distinction is actually so obvious that when apolitical British evangelicals accuse their more political brethren of “putting their trust in princes”, they are often simply being disingenuous, and priding themselves on staying “above the fray.” They may not put their trust in princes, but it seems often that they are putting their trust in the fact that they do not put their trust in princes—which is not the same as putting your trust in Christ!

Understanding liberty

Last, consider liberty. What does the Bible really mean when it tells us that “all things are lawful” for the Christian? In short, for our purposes, it refers to freedom of conscience in what Christians have traditionally called adiaphora—that is, “things indifferent”, things about which the Bible makes no concrete stipulations. In the New Testament, this is most frequently discussed with regard to Jewish Christians continuing to observe ceremonial parts of the Mosaic law like circumcision and feast days (see Romans 14). They are free to do this as Christians, but neither they nor Gentiles had to do them any more. This principle then carries over into other areas of life in the New Testament, such as eating food sacrificed to idols, which Christians are free to do but may choose not to do because it may causes Christians with weaker consciences to stumble (1 Corinthians 8-10). 

These first-century examples are very alien to us, but the doctrine has long been applied to the question of political engagement in politics, in part to say that no Christian can insist that a Christian must perform certain specific positive political actions—vote for a certain party, support a certain candidate etc.

However, when it comes to politics, many evangelicals often take the doctrine of Christian liberty to mean that our political decisions by definition cannot be sinful, since such things are adiaphora. “You’re free to vote for whoever you want to vote for”, is what we hear. But here, we must hold the doctrine of Christian liberty hand in hand with the doctrine of total depravity, which insists that no human action is totally free from sin. And so, although Christian liberty teaches us that very few things are necessarily sinful, total depravity teaches us that anything can be sinful—and that includes how you vote. Such a thing can be sinful in different ways—you could vote for something that it outright evil, or you could for something good in a self-righteous way, or you could act with an inexcusable level of ignorance—but the point is that matters of political action can be sinful in practice, even if they are adiaphora in principle.

Once again, British evangelicals perform a sleight of hand here. They use the doctrine of Christian liberty to divert attention away from the fact that the political action of the average person is no more sealed off from sin than any other area of human life.

Fear Starmer?

And so we return to the seemingly inevitable prospect of Keir Starmer’s premiership, likely with a very large majority which will allow him to pass whatever policies he likes.

If I could just get one thing across to British evangelicals it would be this: Keir Starmer, and the entire hierarchy of the Labour party, loathe people like you. How we respond to that is up for discussion. But if we cannot begin by agreeing on this obvious fact, we will get nowhere. We may all likely know people who are voting Labour, and they may not loathe us personally, but Starmer and the Labour party do. And they will have no bones about putting that loathing into law. This loathing doesn’t principally arise from historic wrongs committed by Christians for which we must flagellate ourselves; it is demanded by their ideology, and as such there is little we can do about it.

The primary place this will hit Christians will be when it comes to LGBT issues. We mustn’t forget of course that the forward march of Wokeness and the Rainbow Flag has been allowed to proceed unabated under a Conservative government—it’s hardly been a great 14 years for people who hold to biblical and traditional sexual ethics. But this has largely been what I call “Labour in slow motion”. Bar David Cameron’s very personal efforts to legalise so-called same-sex marriage in 2013, sex and gender madness under the Tories has largely been a matter of activists and lobbyists calling the show and the government failing to use its political power to say “no” and promote an alternative—the government has been essentially passive. Labour, however, will be active—and aggressively so. 

See, for example, this pledge from their manifesto:

Delivering opportunities for all means that everyone should be treated with respect and dignity. Labour will protect LGBT+ and disabled people by making all existing strands of hate crime an aggravated offence.

More than enough Christians have been in court over supposed LGBT “hate crimes” in the past 14 years—just take a look at many of the active legal cases currently being contended by Christian Concern. Whilst it is true that many of these cases end up vindicating the Christians in the end, the fact that these cases can go this far under a Conservative government shows us the direction of cultural travel. Labour will make this worse—and actively so.

And the Christian concern over LGBT issues is not simply a matter of our right to express our religious beliefs. It’s a matter of the common good and love for our neighbour. The stable basis of any human society is marriage and family. Without that, the most basic building block is gone. Again, the Conservatives have done a horrendous job of protecting and celebrating the family, in many ways. But in its veneration of the LGBT agenda, Labour will actively undermine the family in ways far beyond anything the Tories have managed. And this is to say nothing of trans issues, on which the Tories have made conservative noises but failed to act, and on which Labour continue to signal their intention to go along with the most absurd levels of trans activism and to undo the little the Tories have done to fight it. How anyone thinks you can govern a society of human beings if you reject one of the most fundamental things about humanity—that is, the sex binary—is beyond me.

A recent survey by the Evangelical Alliance revealed that the most significant factor for British evangelicals in deciding who they vote for is the impact it will have on others—58% said one of the main factors in deciding who they vote for is who will help the most needy. 54% said they are led by which party most aligns with Christian/biblical values. Both of these things should mean an overwhelming concern for the family.

I could go on here about other ways in which Labour will come after Christians and attack the basic structures of God-given society. But the main point should be clear: Labour will legislate in a way that is actively hostile to Christians, and which harms our neighbours by attacking the most fundamental building blocks of society, namely family and the sex binary.

So. Do I fear Starmer? Ultimately, Lord willing, no. In his providence God will use whatever Labour does for the good of those who love him, even if that means great earthly loss.

Do I trust in some alternative to Starmer? Ultimately, Lord willing, no. For one, I don’t see how anyone could equate any of our current political parties as synonymous with the kingdom of God, such is the state of them. And I in no way think my political preferences justify me before the throne of grace.

But none of that means that Christians should not be severely concerned about the effect Starmer will have on us and on our society at large. He cannot harm our souls—but we should be realistic about how he might come for our bodies. His opponents cannot eternally—but we should seek the freedom to live out our faith, and the material good of our neighbour, whilst we live on earth temporarily.

This time next week, there will be many “where do we go from here?” conversations happening. There will be plentiful room for disagreement about the best courses of action among Christians and other social conservatives. But if we’re going to get anywhere—either in political change, or in discipling Christians in how to live under a new Labour government—we need to be clear about the situation. Not fearful, not trusting in princes—just honest.