Why I’m Not a Dominionist Anymore
When I sat down to write this series, I knew I had to write a personal reflection because a helicopter view of the dominionism issue pales in comparison to the personal experience of it. Still, the first versions of this blog piece had too many elements. Too many other peoples stories. So I’m stripping it back and having a go at writing my experience of dominionism.
An experience I found crushing.
From the time I was 15, I studied a book called ‘In His Steps’ as part of a discipleship program I was in. The plot of this book involved the editor of a local paper who started to run it the way he believed Jesus would have – censoring certain ads, posting good news and omitting other stories – that sort of thing. That book began a movement that spawned millions of plastic bracelets that asked ‘WWJD? (What would Jesus do?).’ It had its upsides, sure. The very question should call us to a higher level of ethics, compassion and altruism. Right?
For my church, it began our slide into dominion theology. We just didn’t give it that name. I don’t know that we gave it a name at all.
I was 15 when I was introduced to the idea of taking over positions of influence for the cause of Christ. I was 30 when I started consciously questioning it. I was 32 before I gave it words, asking my husband in the quietness of our loungeroom whether the end justified the means. Here I am, 35, no longer going to a Dominionist church, and finally talking about it. And perhaps not a moment too soon.
It’s an interesting thing to reflect on. As a 15 year old who wanted to serve God to the best of her ability, I was a sponge. I soaked up all the teaching. However, in comparing notes with my husband, I realise that I always had reservations. But I felt strongly that if I did not participate, it would mean trouble for me somehow. I also knew that questioning authority was not the done thing in my church. It was dishonouring or rebellious and these things were snuffed out pretty hard. All my friends and family were in boots and all. If I wanted to be part of their lives, I had to be too. So I became a reluctant participant in the Dominionists efforts of my church.
It’s interesting – how you can justify some things to yourself when your entire life is wrapped up in it, when you know how difficult things will be for you if you raise your hand and say “Umm, I’ve got questions.” I certainly silenced my misgivings for a long time.
I absolutely know that not everyones experience will be like this. I’m only talking about mine. Even my husband’s was slightly different. He moved from our state’s capital to be part of this ‘rare true church.‘ If there was Coolaid to drink, he skulled it. Over time, the rose coloured glasses would shatter for him too. But the happy memories he looks back on from that time are not mine to share.
For years, the church (which my husband and I have moved on from) was involved in an international network with heavy Dominionist overtones. Catch cries like “What time is it? Its time to take over!”, “Dominion in every domain” and “Let’s go take the city” were met with songs about laying down our own ambition to serve the cause. We talked this. We sang this. We worked this.
Over time, I became aware that working out my salvation had become hard work – a fact that seemed at odds with Ephesians 2:8-9 “Salvation is by grace through faith and not of works, lest any man should boast” and 2 Corinthians 12:9 which talks about God’s grace being sufficient. I was hearing less and less of these scriptures, instead hearing constant reminders of how we must carry out our primary assignment or risk Gods grace being removed from our lives.
I now realise that second bit is unbiblical, and the truth I need to align myself with is that Gods love is the same no matter what. It would not change if I never attended church. It would not change if I was an utter failure at everything I attempted. Gods grace and His love never fails.
But my entire church, family and social community was so caught up in this movement that I dared not question it. My husbands natural interest in politics got swept into this, and the results of it were deeply uncomfortable for us at times. My natural desire to write, and write fiction, got swept into this. All of a sudden the hobby I’d taken up as a means of carving out some me-time in my crazy life was my ‘primary assignment.’ I was to conquer the mountain of arts and entertainment.
To me, it was more pressure, where I had only taken it up to escape the pressure that existed around me. Life had become relentless hard work. Salvation had become a curse. My only hope was a short life. But after four pregnancy losses, a fifth pregnancy finally survived beyond the seven week mark and I had to start asking what kind of life I wanted for my child. By virtue of this, I started asking what kind of a life my heavenly Father wanted for me.
That pondering turned out to be revelatory.
The Fruit of Dominionism
At the time I wrote my first novel, I was running a business, working full-time and serving on my church’s music and leadership teams. This meant that with meetings, bookwork, practices, Sunday services, and so on, I barely had time to myself. The business was a “kingdom” business I had entered with many misgivings. It turned out to be seven very difficult years. But it was in service of “taking the mountain of business and commerce.” I was working as a subcontractor in the education space, not just turning up to a job but trying to do my bit to ‘take the mountain’ of education. I was giving 120% in every aspect of my life and my adrenal system didn’t love this. I fell into exhaustion, constant migraines, and my battle with post-traumatic stress disorder became a complicated one to win.
When every action or inaction has eternal consequences, you can’t just take a sick day, can you? In fact, there are many things that fall by the wayside.
The wheels started to come off subconsciously as I started to look around and see exhausted people. A number of my friends were suffering with depression and anxiety. I myself was battling crippling fatigue. Many a lunch break was spent asleep, even asleep in my car if I was working out of town. But I brushed it off. It was too hard to think about.
Then I started writing my third novel. It was supposed to paint a picture of what it looked like when “the kingdom of God” was manifest on Earth – i.e. when Dominionism finally reached its peak and Christians had taken over everything. I didn’t like anything I could see in my minds eye as I listened to message after message searching for hints. So I looked to the Bible and found my answer in Romans 14:7 “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.”
My Dominionist experience had been governed by a driving mandate to gain power and influence in order to bring the kingdom of God (ie. righteousness). But it had come at the expense of peace and joy. If life as a Christian was a three-legged stool – it was crazy wonky, having only one leg to hold it up.
After watching a documentary the lights came on. I didn’t want to live this life. I didn’t even want to write about it, because I didn’t like what I saw in my minds eye when dominionists took over. I was a fiction writer. I could create utopia if I wanted. But the clashes were too deep even for fiction.
Losing Dominionism
Between October and November 2015, my husband and I quietly lost dominionism. If you know our personal story, you will also know we lost a lot more than just a bit of bad theology. But I won’t cover all of that here.
When we lost Dominionism, we also lost a sense of destiny and significance. To be honest, it was a painful loss. We had been told our family and church had national significance. Having entered this movement as youths, when we were idealistic and wanted to change the world, it had been a seductive belief, and there’s a risk our identity had been somehow built around it.
People ask me why someone would get involved in Dominionism. My answer is two-fold: 1) they may not realise they are, as this doctrine seduces you by degrees. 2) It is indeed seductive. If you are a Dominionist, you are not a normal person slugging it out in your job. You are destined for greatness. You have God on your side. You are, in a way, super human. You are destined to take over.
Destined.
I see it now as a grandiosity, and inflated sense of self. But the point of Christianity is Galatians 2:20 – Christ living in and through us. There’s no greater example of humility and servitude than Christ.
Still, losing that grandiosity was painful. Imagine going from the Christian version of Sidney Bristow on Alias – superspy with a super destiny masquerading as a run of the mill office worker – to being an average Joe asking ‘What is the meaning of life?’
It took three years to get to where I am now. It took a lot of pain, a lot of tears, and a lot of sleepless nights. But where I am is happy, at peace with my faith, still grappling with my grief but happy. My three legged stool isn’t wonky any more because it isn’t just righteousness trying to hold the whole thing up. Peace and Joy are there too.
The Question of Powerlessness
Unsurprisingly, my husband and I have spent many a late night up talking about why we have gone on the journey we have. When it comes to Dominionism at least, I have a theory. Or rather a hypothesis, because obviously it is unproven (can you tell I work as a research writer?)
My theory is that another seductive thing about Dominionism is that it shields us from our own powerlessness.
The church used to be a fearsome and powerful institution. It was the measuring stick against which society sized itself up. To swear on the Bible was deep and meaningful. To sin was mortally wounding. The church lead the charge with social justice, with serving widows and orphans and trying to make the world a better place.
Somewhere along the line we lost that higher ground. The secular world now exhibits a greater dedication to social justice, and often finds the church as the thing that opposes it. Government hums along without needing the churches permission or looking to it for guidance in most instances.
Dominionism, to me, seems to have its roots in fear not love. If we fear losing our rights, fear losing our relevance, then Dominionism is the antidote. It tells us we are destined to forcibly retake the ground we have lost. That God demands it of us.
Yet the higher law we are supposed to live under is the law of love. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself. Love-based faith, not fear-based activism.
Right now, at this point in my life, I do not live in fear of my powerlessness. I don’t, because my faith is in God who is all-powerful. I do not fear losing my rights. Because if I lose my rights, then I share in Christ’s sufferings, which according to my Bible means I’ll also share in His glory. I don’t need his glory. I am comfortable with not sharing his sufferings. But if I do, that’s ok.
It would be a light on the hill moment. It would be an opportunity to share a little light in a dark world. That would be ok.
I hear the persecution narrative from dominionists. But I don’t view Western Christians as persecuted. I’m happy to give that crown to our Middle Eastern brothers and sisters. There are places where the crown of persecution can be rightly worn.
It is not in a representative democracy where the worst persecution a Christian is likely to face is a deletable comment or an angry emoji reaction on Facebook.
It’s blunt. But it’s true.
I may have lost a lot, but losing Dominionism isn’t a thing I grieve. Three years on, I’m seeing purpose in my life again and I’m enjoying life that once again has peace and joy. I do believe that God has a plan for all of us. But I don’t think there’s anything grandiose in that. There is beauty in it for sure, though. And that is more than enough.
If you missed the rest of this series, then here’s the rest:
What is Dominionism?
Is there a Biblical basis for Dominionism?
Dominionism and politics in the era of Trump and ScoMo
Is There a Biblical Basis for Dominionism?
As a research writer, I never show my hand as far as my personal belief or individual take on a topic is concerned. I simply state the facts, spit out a list of references and tie it all together in a neat little narrative. So it was a little out of character for me to show my hand so clearly in the last article, titled “What is Dominionism?” I am anti-Dominionism, a conviction I hold so strongly that I came out and said it, right off the bat. I’ll talk about the personal reflections that lead to that standpoint in another article. Today, I’m talking about the Biblical reasoning.
Depending on the context, I either laugh or groan internally when I hear people say, “Well I believe the Bible!” Frankly, it’s a complicated book! You can’t just believe the Bible. You need to consider which lens you are viewing it through (and it is inevitable that you will be viewing it through a particular philosophical or theological lens, even if you don’t know it). Are you a Biblical literalist? A Calvinist? A progressive? Are you attempting to view it through the lens of Christ Himself? Or perhaps through the eyes of a preacher you follow? It’s a complicated question. Someone with a decent grounding in theology could argue for or against a good many doctrines regardless on the basis of scripture.
Call me a poor theologian if you like, and I will happily wear that, but I just can’t argue for Dominionism from scripture. Add to that one simple fact: Dominionism comes from Biblical Reconstructionism – the brain child of Rushdoony (and other influencers for sure), who was also a totalitarian. So its kind of counterintuitive to argue for dominionism, and against Kim Jong Un. Just saying. But anyway. On with the show.
Is there a scriptural basis for Dominionism?
For the hard-line devotees of Dominionist theology, there are a few scriptures that seemingly justify it. Even for those who find themselves in tacit agreement with dominionism, these scriptures seem like justification on first look. I would argue, however, that they don’t actually back the militant Dominionist approach. The key scriptures often used to argue for Dominionism are the following:
Genesis 1:26 “Then God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves on earth.”
Luke 19:13 “A certain nobleman went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return. He called his ten servants and delivered them ten pounds, and said unto them, “Occupy till I come.”
Matthew 28:18-20 “Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
And finally, Matthew 16: 15-20. “He said to them, But who do you say that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, You are the Christ, the Son of the living God. And Jesus answered and said to him, Blessed are you, Simon Barjona: for flesh and blood has not revealed it unto thee, but my Father who is in heaven. And I say to you, That you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”
Okay! So lets talk about it.
Genesis 1:26 seems like it should be the first place we argue for Dominionism. It’s also the first place we should argue against it. I really can’t say it better than this [3]:
“This verse is taken by Christian Dominionists as a divine mandate to claim dominion over the earth, physically, spiritually and politically. However, this is taking a large step away from the text, which only says to have dominion over the creatures of earth, and to “subdue” the earth. It is likely that this verse simply means for humanity to a) multiply and expand over the face of the earth instead of staying in one place and b) keep and take care of all other living things.”
Pure and simply, and perhaps most tellingly, there were no political, business, media or education entities in Genesis 1. This passage of scripture specifically names plants and animals. It makes no mention of any spiritual or political dominion.
It is my belief that Genesis 1:26 was talking about spreading out over the earth and taming creation, not about taking dominion over or subduing people. When we think our job is to subdue people, we have problems. Subduing people means taking away their rights and ignoring their hardship – these are two things that the God we see (especially in the New Testament) would never sanction.
As responsible Christians, we need to read the Bible in context and consider the kind of God who created us. Why would He grant us free will (two trees in the garden) only to take it away in the next breath by instituting a system that subdues and disenfranchises some people groups by granting power to others? Dominionism involves Christians ascending the halls of power, but at the cost of what? As they say so often in The Handmaids Tale (seemingly a cautionary tale when it comes to theocratic dystopias), “Better isn’t better for everyone.”
Then we move on to Luke 19:13 – “Occupy till I come.” In other translations, it simply says “Do business until I return.”It was a parable spoken by Jesus describing good stewardship, illustrating that a good steward doesn’t just look after what is entrusted to them, they improve upon it.
I agree with this premise. I just don’t think it’s about dominionism. This passage is not militant. It is not forceful. It does not allege that these stewards should engage in covert activities in order to carry out their master’s mandate. In these ways, it does not resemble dominionism at all. In fact, if anything, it resembles servanthood.
If you look at this scripture through an economic lens, it makes sense. If a master is gone ten years, then the ten pounds buried in the ground has lost value, as it does not keep up with inflation. Its an illustration that bears thinking about: whatever we don’t improve upon is given to entropy. You could look at this scripture and see it as a picture of the church – Jesus was going, and would return at an unknown point in the future. If we stayed the way we were, never sharing the good news of Christ with others, then Christianity and the gift of salvation would have died out with the 12 disciples and the other followers of Christ during his time on Earth. “Do business until I come” could mean “keep this movement going. Pass on my teachings. Keep growing.”
How on Earth it has come to mean taking dominion over politics, business, education, arts, etc. is beyond me. Can we reflect for a moment? Even Jesus didn’t do this during his time on Earth. His chosen nation, the one He was born into, wasn’t the ruling class of the day. It was not the powerful Roman empire. It was the nation of Israel.
Perhaps this scripture ties most closely to the Great Commission of Matthew 28. Yes, Jesus charged us with being stewards of this message, and making sure all heard it and had the opportunity to be saved. This is a beautiful thing, when done right. But again, it is a message of love, of forgiveness, and of Jesus sacrifice. It is not political. It is not business related. It is not militant.
I can’t ignore the fact that many a country was colonised with Matthew 28 in the minds of the explorers of the olden days. Many a nations first people still bear the scars of colonisation. Again, I don’t know how the Great Commission could translate into the atrocities committed during those times. I can’t even bring myself to mention them in this post, because their damage is so great. How would Jesus feel about it? To know that the sacrifice of His life for the redemption of mankind somehow meant the subjugation and abuse of people He meant for us to love and care for.
It’s a topic too large and too complicated for me. Even this month, a Christian was killed while trying to reach an unreached tribe. I do agree that the Great Commission charges us with making sure all have an opportunity to respond to the message of Christ. I don’t agree that it should be done in ways that are unethical, or that abuse, or remove rights. That, to me, is in direct opposition to what Jesus was about.
Often, I see Dominionist theology’s adherants taking their so-called mandate to be a command to vocally oppose ideologies they do not agree with. I’m sure in the future, I’ll blog on this too. But for now, this: can we learn the lessons of the harm done via imperialism and colonialism, and avoid committing the spiritual equivalent by forcing our righteousness down the throats of people whose rights we intend to take away? Can we reflect instead on John 3:16 and realise there are no caveats? That God loved all of us to the point where He sent His Son to die for us?
Anyway….
Now finally, Matthew 16. There are lots of times through-out scripture where the term “dominion” is used. But overwhelmingly, these are referring to God having dominion. In Matthew 16, Jesus mentions the ‘the keys to the kingdom’ in a conversation with Peter. This, to many, symbolises dominion over a fallen Earth returning to mankind. But my big thought here is this: Jesus said to Peter that “on this rock” He would build His church. The rock was Jesus or the revelation of who Jesus was/is. Ownership of the church still belonged to Jesus, never to Peter. The keys to the Kingdom described governance of the church, which, in all messianic prophecy throughout scripture, rested on Jesus shoulders. Not on that of man. For me, it’s a bit of a long bow to think that Peter replaces hundreds of years of messianic prophecy with that one statement, especially given the general acceptance that ‘the rock’ was the revelation of who Christ is/was.
There is another rabbit hole I’m choosing not to go down, and that is the Zion scriptures. The reason I am choosing not to explore them is twofold 1) because the above four scriptures are more commonly used as justification for Dominionism, and 2) because it seems quite clear from Scripture that Zion is referring to either Jerusalem, or to the City of God. Perhaps I’ll talk about that another day, but I’ll do so with a guest blog from a dear friend who is also Jewish! (Just doing my bit to avoid cultural appropriation here!)
The Ultimate Example
Now let’s look at Jesus’s MO, seen best in Philippians 2:5-11. “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. Therefore God also has highly exalted Him and given Him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those in heaven, and of those on earth, and of those under the earth, and that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”
It’s clear here that Jesus brought himself low. He did not ascend to the halls of power and redeem the Jews from the seat occupied by Pontias Pilate and his homies. It was redemption via the most humiliating of deaths. In this passage of scripture we see a clear exhortation toward humility and servanthood, and a clear statement that the highest office still belongs to Jesus not man. Why claim to emulate Jesus then pursue a faith that orbits around Dominionism? It’s counter-intuitive. Jesus had a whole world of people He could have come to during the years He walked the earth. He chose not to come to the powerful Roman empire. He chose to come to a small nation, a marginalised race within a powerful Roman stranglehold. Again, He didn’t seek power.
So there are a few fundamental clashes there but the big one for me is Philippians 2:5-11. This is a picture of Christ as servant, not as Dominionist. This is a picture of going low to serve and empower, rather than going high to take what one deserves. He was perfect. He deserved/deserves everything. Instead he gave everything. If we are to emulate anything, then the servitude and compassion of Christ is surely the place we need to start and end. That compassion and servitude is shown over and over again…from Joseph, to Daniel, to Jesus himself. It is what I believe Christianity should be built around.
There is one more picture that I can never ignore, and it’s the picture of Christ the shepherd leaving the 99 sheep to find the one lost sheep. To me, it’s a picture of care, and of seeing the plight of the individual. Yet if we seek after power, then we can so easily ignore the plight of the individual while we try to chase down dominion in the domain that surrounds the 99.
I get the appeal of dominionism. It means we do not have to confront our own vulnerability, because we believe we are born to rule. We do not have to trust in God, because we believe that God has put His trust in us. It means that call of compassion is lesser than the pull of power.
So in light of all this, I have to agree with the scholars that call dominionism a heresy – that is a false doctrine, an unbiblical idea that has seeped its way into popularity in the church. It does not mean that Christians should not have positions of influence in any of the domains of society. If we are to live and work in this society, be good at what we do, or be good stewards of the teachings of Christ, then it is inevitable that some of us will have positions of influence. In fact, we should try to excel! We should try to serve and empower the very best we can!
But power in and of itself should never be the motivation. Because that is a position loaded with potential to go awry, and it is not an example Jesus ever set for us.
So that’s that! Tune in next week when I talk about Dominionism in modern politics in Australia and America.
What is Dominionism?
Welcome to the first in the series on “dominionism.” I’m starting to think that when I first named this blog, I should have named it “Woke Christianity” instead of giving it my name. But here we are, and I guess that’s the aim – talking about how Christianity can be conscious, examined, responsible, relevant and always reflecting Jesus. That’s why we have to talk about dominionism.
It’s a sneaky little doctrine that slipped its way into many churches. Up until about 5 years ago, I didn’t know I was a dominionist. I just was. I had taken for granted many elements of my faith, packing them into my metaphorical bag of beliefs without stopping to check whether they were right, relevant, Biblical, helpful or even asking the all-important question “what would Jesus think about this?”
Dominionism is the belief that Christians belong in and should pursue power and influence in the seven domains of society. These domains are said to be media, government/politics, education, economy/business/commerce, religion, arts/entertainment and family. Over the course of the next few weeks, I will be delving into the scriptural arguments for and against dominionism, its role in modern politics, its fruit, and my own personal experience with dominionism. As tricky as it is, I’ll try to keep these topics separate.
Today’s topic: What is this stuff and where does it come from?
Dominionism and the NAR
Dominionism is fruit of the NAR (New Apostolic Reformation) movement that started in America. That in itself is a fascinating little topic, as no one really claims membership to the NAR overtly. They are known by their theological markers – such as the belief that God is restoring church governance through returning the ‘lost roles’ of the apostle and prophet. It is essentially a fifth house within Christendom “distinct from Catholicism, Protestantism, Oriental Orthodoxy and Eastern Orthodoxy.” It is estimated to be the fastest growing movement in Christianity today, and it grows by “recruiting pastors of independent congregations and nondenominational churches” among other methods [1].
Big names in the NAR include C. Peter Wagner, Todd White, Randy Clark, Rick Joyner and Bill Johnson. Significant theologies include spiritual warfare, apostolic governance, dominionism, theocracy, supernatural signs and wonders, extra-biblical revelation and relational structures.
The issue of relational structures is a bit of a concerning one for me. It can mean (in some cases) no formal structure, grievance procedure or checks or balances in place for a person to gain the title of apostle or prophet. This leaves it wide open for people with lots of charisma to ascend to positions of power even if their doctrine and credentials are poor, and potentially makes it difficult for these people to be held accountable if their doctrines/prophecies stray into concerning territory. Cults of personality may develop (notice I said “may”not “will.”). How does someone gain the title of Apostle or Prophet? This varies from church to church. It may range from self-proclamation, to recognition of a gift, to some sort of ceremony.
Again, it may not be concerning in every instance. But the potential in such systems is that when a person wears the title of apostle or prophet, their words can be taken as infallible. Followers may build their lives around these words without question. Beliefs and doctrines may be added without scrutiny, by virtue of extra-Biblical revelation supposedly granted to these apostles and prophets who ‘govern’ NAR churches. Now, the Bible actually warns us against extra-Biblical revelation (Revelation 22:18-19, Proverbs 30:5-6, Deuteronomy 4:2). But that’s a topic for another day.
There’s no list or sign-up sheet for an NAR church, and they are unlikely to list dominionism among their core beliefs. This is a movement neck-deep in nuance and subtlety. You’ll need a bit of discernment to spot it.
Dominionism is sometimes called “7 Mountain Dominionism” or the “7M Mandate.” This drive towards Christian domination of the 7 domains uses some tactics that are innocent and others that are less so; varying from mastery of ones own craft, to spiritual warfare or subtler/sneakier methods to dominate or stack organisations or movements. It is perhaps best summed up by this quote (cited in [2]):
“Christians have an obligation, a mandate, a commission, a holy responsibility to reclaim the land for Jesus Christ—to have dominion in civil structures, just as in every other aspect of life and godliness,” wrote George Grant, the former executive director of Coral Ridge Ministries, which has since changed its name to Truth in Action Ministries. “But it is dominion we are after. Not just a voice … It is dominion we are after. Not just equal time … World conquest.”
In other words, they believe that Christians must occupy and subdue the world as God’s stewards of the earth. When I read these type of quotes, its hard not to recognise it as a call to arms, a certain militance in the stance taken by hard-line adherents to this belief. It’s an ‘us or them’ mindset, and with the call to action is a colonial type “conquer or be conquered” attitude.
Whats the Problem with Dominionism?
I remember watching “The Handmaids Tale” and discussing it with a friend. The plot might seem shocking to some, and even for me the ceremony stuff is a bit imaginative, but it was otherwise very reminiscent of the ultimate goal of Dominionists – a complete takeover of society by the Righteous. With Trump at the helm of America and a number of dominionist/NAR sorts around him, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched to me at all.
But contrary to how I used to think, I don’t believe that to be a good thing. Why? There are a few deeply concerning factors to be considered. Analysts Chip Berlet and Frederick Clarkson offered up these three points on Dominionism/Dominionists. The comments are focused on the USA, but with this particular theology spreading, pop any old country in there and you’ll get a good fit. They said [3]:
Dominionists celebrate Christian nationalism, in that they believe that the United States once was, and should once again be, a Christian nation. In this way, they deny the Enlightenment roots of American democracy.
Dominionists promote religious supremacy, insofar as they generally do not respect the equality of other religions, or even other versions of Christianity.
Dominionists endorse theocratic visions, insofar as they believe that the Ten Commandments, or “biblical law,” should be the foundation of American law, and that the U.S. Constitution should be seen as a vehicle for implementing biblical principles.
Berlet and Clarkon’s points are poignant for a few reasons. There could be whole theses devoted to the topic of democracy, especially representative democracies like Australia and the USA. But the core takeaway is this: we all live here. We all belong here. The idea of a covert take-over of any democracy would involve squashing the rights of others who share it. That’s not okay with me. That shouldn’t be okay with us.
This does not mean that Christianity has no role. It means that we have to play nice with the other kids, while letting our light shine (to quote the cliché). I’d rather attract people to my faith than demand they adopt it. I’d rather be the carrot than the stick. Dominionism has the potential to be all stick.
As to the topic of religious supremacy, Australia’s current Prime Minister (Scott Morrison, an evangelical), said in his maiden speech: “Australia is not a secular country—it is a free country. This is a nation where you have the freedom to follow any belief system you choose. Secularism is just one. It has no greater claim than any other on our society [4].”
He was speaking about secularism. But the same could be true for Christianity. One trend I’ve noticed recently is that of Islamophobia. For Christian dominionists, freedom of religion seems to be synonymous with only their religion (or their stream of it). The right of Muslims to practice theirs is the topic of many an irate Facebook post. The truth is any citizen should be free to practice their religion as long as it exists within the boundaries of the laws of that country and does no harm to others. Likewise, the laws of the land should not ban legitimate practices of faith.
Michelle Goldberg wrote this of Dominionism [3]:“In many ways, Dominionism is more a political phenomenon than a theological one. It cuts across Christian denominations, from stern, austere sects to the signs-and-wonders culture of modern megachurches. Think of it like political Islamism, which shapes the activism of a number of antagonistic fundamentalist movements, from Sunni Wahabis in the Arab world to Shiite fundamentalists in Iran.”
Mic drop, Ms. Goldberg. We can’t point an irate finger at Islamic fundamentalism while denying the harm done by Christian fundamentalism. She also points out something rather concerning: Dominionism has its origins in Biblical reconstructionism, which harks back to a guy named Rushdoony – a prolific and influential totalitarian. Yep. You read that right. Totalitarian. Why would a free-will giving God anoint totalitarianism as His preferred form of government? It is counterintuitive at best.
While it is certainly more obvious in America, there are strong indications that dominionism has reached Australian shores. ABC journalist Chrys Stevenson wrote this of the Australian Christian Lobby, while examining their potential dominionist tendencies [5]:
Dominionism goes beyond Christians exercising their democratic right to be politically active. Dominionists aim to dominate the political process – to exercise “a disproportionate effect on the culture.”
Lyle Shelton is the son of Ian Shelton, pastor of Toowoomba City Church, a “transformation” ministry which grew out of the now defunct Logos Foundation, a cultish group closely associated with dominionist and reconstructionist theology.
Apparently, Shelton Snr joined Logos in the early 1980s when Lyle was in his pre-teens. When the group folded in the wake of its leader’s sexual indiscretions, it was resurrected by Shelton in the guise of the Toowoomba City Church. Shelton Senior’s vision is for Toowoomba to become:
“a transformed city where all the spheres – sport/arts/leisure, welfare, health, media & information, law/police/judiciary, politics & government, business & commerce, education – … come under the lordship of Christ.”
Compare this with the words of the late American dominionist, D. James Kennedy, from the Center for Reclaiming America for Christ, and it becomes clear that Shelton and Kennedy sing from the same hymn book – although, perhaps, on different scales:
“Our job is to reclaim America for Christ, whatever the cost. As the vice regents of God, we are to exercise godly dominion and influence over our neighborhoods, our schools, our government, our literature and arts, our sports arenas, our entertainment media, our news media, our scientific endeavors – in short, over every aspect and institution of human society.”
“From local parents and citizens associations to regional councils, from our previously secular state schools to state government departments and even within Parliament House, Canberra, this particular clique of evangelical Christian extremists is working quietly but assiduously to tear down the division between church and state, subvert secularism and reclaim this nation for Jesus.”
Christians are certainly charged with the Great Commission. They are certainly charged with being salt and light, representatives for Christ on Earth. I have no issue with that. The issue is not in the spread of Christianity per se. Its in the methods used, and the nature of the drive beneath dominionism. The scriptural clashes are a plenty, and a matter for next weeks blog. For now, the important thing is this – Dominionism is a thing, its here, and it is usually covert and militant in its nature. We’ve met Islamic Fundamentalism. Its out there. So too is Christian fundamentalism and this is one way it manifests.
A Question of Motivation
Dominionism may seem attractive on the surface, as it tells its followers they are destined for power and influence – seductive promises indeed. But dig deeper. Use your imagination. Or just use Margaret Atwood’s if you can’t be bothered coming up with the plot yourself. Totalitarian theocracy is a Kim-Jong Un meets Commander Waterford kind of nightmare.
If it’s not abundantly obvious by now, I am a deeply conscientious, deeply devout Christian. I’m also anti-Dominionism. But does that mean that Christians can’t occupy positions of power or influence within the 7 domains of society? No! In fact, I don’t think we can avoid it. The idea of the 7 domains is that everything is covered. I work in media and communication. I should be free to do my thing and rock at it. I have friends who all live and work within these seven domains. If we want to earn an honest living, we can’t avoid this.
But the question is always motivation. I work where I work because I believe I can make a positive contribution, and because I enjoy it. I have friends who are upper level managers. They do what they do because they are good at it, because they like it, or because it pays well (lets be honest!). We should be able to contribute positively and live out our faith conscientiously. We should never have to, or desire to, live out our faith in a sneaky, subversive way or in a way that seeks to subdue others and take away their rights.
Dominionism has, at its heart, the subduing of other forces (i.e. people, and their opinions) to get to the top and then rule from there. Yet Jesus Himself was not militant. His followers were not militia. They served. They lifted the downtrodden. I don’t see any example of Him taking what was His by force, or by subduing another person or their rights. His was a life that drew crowds by attraction, not by demand.
And herein lies the inherent problem with dominionism.
There will be time when the tide turns against Christianity. I can’t deny that there are some ideologies held by my fellow Christians that don’t stand up well to public debate. The tide has turned against such ideas. But the parable of the bushel talks about letting our light shine in a dark world. It doesn’t talk about taking that light and setting stuff on fire because you want it all to shine too. I think they call that arson. Legitimate Christianity should be positive. And until such a time as it is outlawed, it should be practiced overtly. If there is a reason to hide your faith, or to sheild your faith-related activities from the eyes of the wider community, I’d have to question why.
We should all be free to, and perhaps obligated to, contribute to society in a positive way. Does Dominionism facilitate that? Tune in next week when we take a Biblical look at it.
Bibliography/References:
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Apostolic_Reformation
[2] https://www.thedailybeast.com/dominionism-michele-bachmann-and-rick-perrys-dangerous-religious-bond
[5] https://www.abc.net.au/religion/is-the-australian-christian-lobby-dominionist/10101124