Political Power, the Great Commission, and the Question of Christian Allegiance

I have written several times over the years about Christians and voting. My position has not always been particularly popular, especially among American evangelicals who have come to understand voting as something approaching a Christian obligation. Yet I have never been entirely convinced that Scripture requires Christians either to vote or to abstain. I suspect the answer is considerably more complicated, and perhaps more situational, than either position allows.

Recently, my good friend Dr. Steve Cassell preached a message concerning Christian responsibility in the political arena. I have tremendous respect for Steve, not only as a pastor and theologian, but as someone who has given considerable thought to what faithful Christian engagement with government should look like. In fact, I consider him one of the finest examples I know of someone attempting to approach political involvement through a genuinely Christian worldview. Whether Jesus would agree with all of our conclusions about politics is another question entirely, and perhaps part of the reason this conversation is worth having! Although Steve and I do not always see eye to eye on these matters, I believe his position is thoughtful, biblically motivated, and worthy of serious consideration.

We share an essential conviction: Jesus Christ is King, and our allegiance belongs to Him above every earthly institution. In his recent message, Steve argues that because Christians are commanded to love their neighbors, seek the welfare of their communities, and disciple the nations, they should participate in political processes that allow them to influence the laws governing those communities. He connects this responsibility particularly to Matthew 28, suggesting that voting can become one means through which Christians disciple their nation. You can watch Steve’s message here.

I appreciate his concern for justice and the welfare of our neighbors, and I agree that laws can profoundly influence the communities in which we live. However, I am less convinced that Scripture establishes voting as a Christian duty or that influencing legislation is necessarily an expression of discipling the nations. The question becomes particularly interesting when we consider the political world Jesus entered and the remarkable ways He refused the available models of power.

The Political Kingdoms Jesus Refused

First-century Judaism was anything but politically unified. The Jewish people had experienced centuries of foreign domination, and the memory of the Maccabean revolt against Seleucid oppression remained an important part of their national identity. Some Jewish leaders cooperated with Rome, while others sought greater separation from its religious and political influence. The Essenes, described by Josephus and often associated with the communities responsible for the Dead Sea Scrolls, cultivated distinctive covenantal communities that anticipated God’s judgment upon wickedness. Their relationship to the broader political resistance of the period remains debated, but their writings reveal an expectation that God would eventually confront the corrupt powers governing the world.[1]

Other movements were considerably more confrontational. Josephus describes Judas the Galilean, whose movement arose in opposition to Roman taxation during the census associated with Quirinius in 6 CE. Judas and his followers believed that recognizing Roman political mastery compromised their allegiance to God. Josephus explains that they insisted God alone was their rightful ruler and lord, maintaining this conviction even under the threat of suffering and death.[2]

I find this historical connection fascinating. The declaration that God alone is King was already a politically charged confession before the ministry of Jesus began. Yet Judas understood this conviction in ways that encouraged resistance to Roman domination, while Jesus announced the arrival of God’s kingdom without adopting the revolutionary methods associated with such movements. Their theological language could sound remarkably similar, but their approaches to earthly authority were profoundly different.

Jesus had opportunities to align Himself with the political expectations of His contemporaries. John 6:15 records that a crowd intended to seize Him and make Him king, yet He withdrew. He did not join a Maccabean-style liberation movement, identify His ministry with the separatist vision associated with Qumran, or pursue influence within the existing religious-political establishment. His refusal was not a rejection of His identity as King, but a rejection of the means through which people expected that kingship to be established.

John the Baptist provides another intriguing comparison. Josephus records that Herod Antipas feared John’s influence might produce an uprising, leading to his imprisonment and execution.[3] The Gospels emphasize John’s prophetic confrontation with Herod’s conduct rather than any revolutionary program, so we should not assume John was organizing political resistance. Nevertheless, it is striking that when John questioned Jesus from prison, Jesus pointed toward healing, restoration, and good news for the poor rather than political liberation (Matt 11:2–6). Jesus did not organize John’s release, although the text gives us no reason to conclude that He disapproved of John’s prophetic ministry. The kingdom was arriving, but its arrival did not mean that Jesus would overthrow every unjust ruler or immediately liberate every faithful person suffering beneath political authority.

Perhaps the most revealing event occurs in Luke 4:5–8, where the devil offers Jesus authority over the kingdoms of the world in exchange for worship. Within the narrative, the devil claims that this authority has been given to him, and Jesus refuses the offer without directly disputing that claim. Matt Mouzakis and I examine this passage extensively in our book Principalities, Powers, and Allegiances, connecting it to the Deuteronomy 32 worldview, in which the nations exist amid rebellious spiritual powers and disordered political authority.[4]

The temptation offered Jesus an apparently efficient path toward possessing the nations without the suffering of the cross. He refused because His kingship could not be established through compromised allegiance. This does not make every form of governmental participation inherently evil, but it should challenge our assumption that acquiring political influence necessarily advances the kingdom of God.

Jesus later told Pilate that His kingdom was not ek tou kosmou toutou, not from this world (John 18:36). His point concerned the origin and character of His kingdom, as demonstrated by His explanation that His followers would otherwise fight to prevent His arrest. Likewise, in Mark 10:42–45, Jesus contrasted the rulers of the nations, who exercise domination over others, with the servant leadership expected of His disciples.

Jesus possessed legitimate authority over the nations while refusing the very methods by which earthly rulers ordinarily secured and exercised that authority. Surely that should inform how His followers think about political power.

Does the Great Commission Require Political Participation?

This brings me back to Steve’s argument concerning Matthew 28:18–20. Jesus declares that all authority in heaven and earth belongs to Him and commands His followers to make disciples of all nations. Steve reasons that because Christians possess opportunities to shape national legislation through voting, political participation can become an extension of the Great Commission.

While I understand the connection, I believe this interpretation moves beyond what the passage actually teaches. The primary imperative in Matthew 28:19 is mathēteusate, meaning to make disciples. The object of that command is panta ta ethnē, all nations or peoples. The accompanying participles describe baptizing and teaching these disciples to observe what Jesus commanded. The passage concerns the formation of people who follow Jesus, not the establishment of political structures that compel societies to observe Christian moral standards.[5]

This distinction matters because legislation and discipleship are fundamentally different activities. Civil laws may restrain harmful behavior, protect vulnerable people, and establish conditions that encourage social flourishing. Those are legitimate concerns, but governmental compliance does not produce covenantal allegiance to Jesus. Israel’s own history illustrates that possessing righteous laws did not necessarily produce a righteous people. The prophets anticipated a deeper restoration through transformed hearts and the work of God’s Spirit (Jer 31:31–34; Ezek 36:26–27).

There is also a historical difficulty with interpreting the Great Commission as a mandate for political influence. The earliest Christians received this command while possessing little opportunity to influence Roman legislation, yet Acts describes them faithfully fulfilling their calling through proclamation, baptism, teaching, hospitality, and the formation of distinctive communities. Their inability to control governmental policy did not prevent them from making disciples.

A Christian might reasonably view voting as one way of seeking justice or protecting neighbors, but that is a potential application of Christian ethics rather than an explicit command of the Great Commission. Christ’s authority over the nations does not automatically establish an obligation for Christians to govern those nations in His name.

Principalities, Powers, and the Question of Allegiance

In Principalities, Powers, and Allegiances, Matt and I argue that the relationship between the church and earthly government must be understood within the broader biblical narrative rather than through isolated interpretations of Romans 13. Paul’s instruction to submit to governing authorities follows Romans 12, where Christians are commanded not to conform to the present age, to bless persecutors, to refuse retaliation, and to overcome evil with good. Romans 13 itself continues into the command to love one’s neighbor. The passage addresses how Christians should conduct themselves within existing political arrangements, not how they might acquire authority over those arrangements.

Revelation 13 introduces the other side of this theological tension. Drawing upon Daniel 7, John portrays imperial power through the imagery of a beast whose authority comes from the dragon. Within its first-century context, this imagery confronted Rome’s claims to political and religious allegiance. The contrast between the beast and the Lamb is not simply a distinction between immoral and moral leaders. It concerns competing kingdoms, each demanding the loyalty of those who belong to it.[6]

This is where the language of allegiance becomes essential. The question is not merely whether a Christian participates in society, pays taxes, or exercises certain civic responsibilities. It is whether those activities begin to redefine the believer’s identity and loyalty. The distinction becomes especially clear in Jesus’s response concerning taxation. When asked whether the imperial tax should be paid, Jesus pointed to Caesar’s image upon the coin and instructed His questioners to return to Caesar what belonged to Caesar while giving God what belonged to God (Mark 12:13–17).

The early Christian writer Tertullian recognized the deeper theological implications of this exchange. Caesar’s image appeared upon his coin, but humanity bears the image of God. The coin might be returned to Caesar, but the human person belongs to the Creator.[7] Jesus had transformed a political question into a question of ultimate allegiance.

I think this distinction is particularly important in modern American Christianity. Voting may begin as a thoughtful attempt to serve one’s community, yet political participation can gradually cultivate loyalties that compete with our identity in Christ. Political movements encourage believers to identify with their parties, defend their candidates, and view opposing groups as threats. Eventually, the church may become better known for its political commitments than for its embodiment of the teachings of Jesus.

The danger is not necessarily the act of casting a ballot. It is allowing political systems to shape our understanding of righteousness, community, enemies, and ultimately the kingdom of God. When Christians begin defending behavior they would otherwise condemn because it advances their political interests, the problem is no longer merely political disagreement. It has become a question of compromised allegiance.

Should Christians Vote?

Scripture also provides meaningful reasons why a Christian might choose to participate in government. Jeremiah 29:7 instructed Israel’s exiles to seek the shalom, or welfare, of Babylon, even though Babylon was responsible for their displacement. Joseph and Daniel exercised governmental responsibilities within foreign empires, demonstrating that participation in imperfect political institutions did not necessarily constitute spiritual compromise. Paul likewise called Christians to pray for rulers and pursue peaceful lives characterized by dignity and godliness (1 Tim 2:1–2).

These passages remind us that allegiance to Christ does not require indifference toward our neighbors. There may be circumstances in which voting provides a responsible opportunity to protect vulnerable people, restrain injustice, or contribute to the welfare of a community. A Christian may participate in these ways without imagining that political success establishes the kingdom of God.

However, these same biblical examples do not establish a universal obligation to participate. Jeremiah instructed the exiles to seek Babylon’s welfare without commanding them to acquire political authority. Daniel served faithfully within government while remaining prepared to suffer rather than violate his allegiance to God. The early church contributed to the welfare of Roman society while some Christian teachers maintained distance from forms of public service they regarded as incompatible with discipleship. Origen, responding to the pagan critic Celsus, even argued that Christians served society through the distinctive life and ministry of the church rather than necessarily occupying governmental office.[8]

I believe there is room for Christians to reach different conclusions concerning a particular election. One believer may prayerfully conclude that voting is a responsible way to serve the community under the circumstances. Another may conclude that participation would require an unacceptable compromise of conscience or an identification with political conduct contrary to the teachings of Jesus.

Neither conclusion should automatically become a measure of another person’s faithfulness. Romans 14 reminds us of the importance of conscience and humility in matters where believers may reach different practical judgments while remaining accountable to the same Lord. Although Paul was addressing different disputes, the principle cautions against transforming an application of Christian ethics into a universal command when Scripture has not done so.

A Pastoral Reflection for the Church Today

As another election approaches, I recognize how deeply these conversations affect our churches, families, and friendships. There are Christians who genuinely believe their participation in the political process is an expression of loving their neighbors. There are others who look at the character of political discourse, the compromises required by party loyalty, and the increasingly hostile spirit of public life and wonder whether their participation is drawing them away from the way of Jesus.

I think both concerns deserve serious consideration. What troubles me pastorally is how quickly we have allowed voting to become a test of Christian faithfulness. We sometimes speak as though a believer’s commitment to the kingdom can be measured by whether they enter a voting booth, or even by the particular choices they make once inside. Yet Jesus never established political participation as the defining evidence of discipleship. He spoke instead about love, mercy, reconciliation, holiness, faithfulness, and the willingness to lay down one’s life for others.

For those who choose to vote, I would encourage you to do so with humility and a conscience formed by the teachings of Jesus. Take seriously your responsibility to your neighbors, particularly those who are vulnerable or unable to defend themselves. But refuse to surrender your integrity to a candidate or party. Do not excuse dishonesty because it serves a cause you support, and do not allow political disagreement to become an excuse for withholding love from someone Christ has called you to serve.

For those who choose not to vote, I would offer a similar encouragement. Let your abstention emerge from conviction rather than apathy. Continue seeking the welfare of your community, caring for people in need, confronting injustice, and demonstrating the character of Christ in ordinary life. The kingdom has never depended upon the availability of a ballot, and the responsibility to love our neighbors does not disappear when we choose not to cast one.

Above all, I would ask each of us to consider what our political involvement is doing to our hearts. Are we becoming more gracious, more patient, more truthful, and more willing to love our enemies? Or are we becoming increasingly fearful, angry, suspicious, and convinced that everything depends upon the next election? If our political convictions are producing qualities that look increasingly unlike Jesus, perhaps we need to examine what has been discipling us.

I deeply appreciate Steve’s conviction that Christ alone is King. It is precisely because I share that conviction that I hesitate to make political participation a necessary expression of Christian discipleship. Jesus had opportunities to secure His kingdom through familiar mechanisms of earthly power, yet He consistently chose another way. His kingdom would be revealed through people who embodied His character, even when doing so placed them at odds with the authorities of their age.

My hope is that Christians on both sides of this question can recover that same confidence in Jesus. We do not need to question one another’s devotion to Christ simply because we reach different conclusions about an election. Our unity is not found in a candidate, a political party, or a shared strategy for influencing government. It is found in the One who has called us to follow Him.

And perhaps this is what I most want to leave with the church: Please do not allow the politics of this world to rob you of the people Jesus has called you to love. Do not sacrifice a friendship, divide a family, or wound a brother or sister in Christ over an earthly kingdom that will one day pass away. Speak truthfully, pursue justice, and act according to conscience, but remember that the person across the political aisle is still someone made in the image of God.

You may enter the voting booth believing it is an act of faithfulness, or you may refrain for precisely the same reason. Either way, when the election is over, the calling of Jesus remains. We will still be commanded to love our enemies, care for the poor, welcome the stranger, forgive those who wrong us, and bear witness to a kingdom unlike the nations surrounding us.

The kingdom of God has never needed an electoral victory to move forward. It has advanced through ordinary people who faithfully follow an extraordinary King.

Vote if you believe you should. Refrain if your conscience leads you otherwise. But do not confuse either decision with the fullness of Christian discipleship.

Jesus is already King. Let us make certain our lives reveal that we believe it.

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Endnotes

1. Josephus, J.W. 2.119–161; Community Rule (1QS 1–9); War Scroll (1QM). See also Joan E. Taylor, The Essenes, the Scrolls, and the Dead Sea (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012). The relationship between the Qumran community and the wider Essene movement remains a matter of scholarly discussion.
2. Josephus, Ant. 18.4–10, 23–25. Josephus associates Judas the Galilean’s movement with opposition to Roman taxation and a conviction that God alone was ruler and lord. His retrospective interpretation of revolutionary movements should be considered when evaluating the account.
3. Josephus, Ant. 18.116–119; cf. Mark 6:17–29; Matt 11:2–6. Josephus emphasizes Herod’s fear that John’s popular influence might lead to rebellion, while the Gospel accounts emphasize John’s prophetic confrontation with Herod’s marriage.
4. Matt Mouzakis and Will Ryan, Principalities, Powers, and Allegiances: Interpreting Romans 13:1–7, 1 Peter 2:13–17, and Revelation 13 within a Deuteronomy 32 Worldview (2025), chaps. 1–4, especially “Jesus and Empire.” The discussion of Luke 4 situates Jesus’s temptation within the wider biblical narrative of the nations and hostile spiritual powers.
5. Matt 28:18–20. See Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1996), 640–45, for discussion of the grammatical relationship between the main imperative and accompanying participles.
6. Mouzakis and Ryan, Principalities, Powers, and Allegiances, chaps. 6–8. The authors interpret Romans 13:1–7 and Revelation 13 through the larger biblical narrative of exile, the nations, and the principalities and powers, emphasizing the distinction between responsible conduct beneath earthly authorities and ultimate allegiance to Christ.
7. Tertullian, Marc. 4.38. Tertullian connects Caesar’s image on the denarius with the image of God borne by humanity, drawing a distinction between civil obligations and divine ownership.
8. Origen, Cels. 8.73–75. Origen defends the Christian contribution to public welfare through prayer, ecclesial service, and the cultivation of a community ordered toward God’s purposes. See also Mouzakis and Ryan, Principalities, Powers, and Allegiances, introduction, discussion of patristic interpretations.