What hath Athens to do with Nashville?
Part One
Of the many political treatises that have come down to us from antiquity, perhaps the most enduring and influential are the works of the Athenian philosopher, Plato. Ordinarily a student of political theory or philosophy first meets Plato in The Republic, a work that is long on lofty proposals for a model society and short on the nuts-and-bolts implementation of those proposals. That is where Plato’s other monumental work, the Laws, comes in. Written in the 4th century B.C., the Laws consists of a series of dialogues between an Athenian, presumably Plato himself, and one of his interlocutors concerning the nature of a well-formed political system that respects the gods, honors its leaders, and maximizes the social, moral and economic welfare of its citizens.
While re-reading the Laws this past week, I became acutely aware that some sage counsel from a pre-modern pagan philosopher might better inform Southern Baptists about the nature of our denomination as, for better or for worse, a political entity. Ranting that Southern Baptists are too political may make for impassioned posturing at a variety of post-denominational venues, but it does little good to change anything. Realists rather than idealists are the men who pull the oars of any organization, thus steering its course toward the ends idealists envision but lack the wherewithal to achieve. In truth, a shot of healthy realism is needed if emerging Southern Baptist leaders are going to have much impact on refocusing our Kingdom work and rebalancing our denominational structure. In this respect, Plato’s Laws is a straight-line drip of realism expedient to assist Southern Baptists in the art of generational self definition.
I will examine five sections of Plato’s Laws, paying careful attention to how those sections are immediately germane to Southern Baptist life. I will consider these sections in the ascending order of their pertinence to our current denominational system rather than in the order that they appear in the original text. The order of our examination will be as follows: On the failure of monarchial regimes; on the importance of theology; on abuse; on the executive committee; and on the subjugation of leaders to laws.
Book Three of Plato’s Laws incorporates an extensive analysis of the pre-Athenian political regimes under Darius, Xerxes, Cyrus, and Cambyses. This Persian Empire was weakened for a variety of reasons, Plato observes, chief of which was the intrinsic debility of monarchial regimes. As the reins of power were passed from one man to another, each in turn felt the burden to establish a name for himself by the sweat and toil and upon the backs of his subjects. In time, these subjects learned that the glory of the leader rather than the glory of the gods was the real object of political and military campaigns. Disheartened and disillusioned, they stopped fighting the king’s causes and the empire fell under the weight of its own top-heavy structure. Corruption increased year by year as unchecked and unbridled autocrats threw off the accountability afforded in more democratic societies. The reason Plato assigns for the corruption of such political systems is that “they were too energetic in introducing authoritarian government, so that they destroyed all friendship and community of spirit in the state. And with that gone, the policy of rulers is not framed in the interests of their subjects the people, but to support their own authority.” So long as the people believed they were serving a higher purpose than the personal political whims of their leaders, they would fight to the death to preserve the kingdom and defend the king. If questions arose, however, regarding the king’s political objectives, then common fealty diminished and the king found himself having to “hire mercenaries to ensure his own safety.” Finally, the judgment of the king was ultimately perverted as he became “so stupid that [he] proclaimed by his very actions that as compared with gold and silver everything society regarded as good and valuable in his eyes was so much trash.”
The Southern Baptist Convention is not, thank God, even a modified monarchy. A congregational ecclesiology has informed every level of our denominational bureaucracy; and it is the people who hold ultimate authority in the convention rather than the elite few who, for various reasons, have attained influence-wielding positions as entity executives. The danger is ever present, however, that a generation of the people will grow lax in their attentiveness to the affairs of institutional governance. Year by year the authority to govern our denominational agencies could slip from the trustees elected by the convention to a plutocratic few who are far too eager to run things without the meddlesome nuisance of trustee oversight. In order for the seizure of power to occur, such an executive must first turn trusteeship into a perk, complete with immaculately appointed banquets and silly presentations about things unrelated to the primary institutional mission. He must fill the trustee calendar with tea parties and walking tours and sideshows, then shrug off the actual governance of the institution by tapping his watch when it’s time for the trustees to go back home. I’m not suggesting that the trustees of any SBC agency have completely abandoned their authorized prerogative of oversight, though I think a few have come dangerously close. Try to correct the trend, and you’ll soon discover how many mercenaries the king has conscripted. When this happens, the handwriting is already on the king’s wall. His kingdom, like that of the Persians, is weighed, found wanting, and divided before midnight. So fell the Persian Empire, and so can the Southern Baptist Convention falter if we fail in our vigilance to withstand the subtle temptations of autocratic efficiency. The SBC should think twice before acquiescing institutional governance to even the noblest of denominational servants. If men were angels, James Madison argued at our nation’s founding, the only viable political system would be monarchial. Both Scripture and experience, in the recent and distant past of our denominational history, demonstrate the contrary.