After the election, part 1

Thoughts on the future of the American family

Last week, Americans took to the polls and elected Donald Trump to the highest office of the land. After four years in the proverbial wilderness, Trump returns to the White House and leads an ascendent Republican Party—a coalition of mostly working class men and women of every age, race, and creed.

The postmortems are too many to count and, quite frankly, beyond the scope of a blog about public theology. Even the matter of the New Right, what it is, and whether Christians should play a part in it are questions I’ll leave to more able thinkers.

Rather, this series will focus on the issues which apparently matter to a majority of voters and what Christians can contribute to what I’m calling new “zones of political opportunity.” There are three worth discussing at length: the future of the American family, the future of American power, and the future of American citizenship.

But first, a point of clarification.

It would be inappropriate for me, as someone in pastoral ministry, to bind anyone’s conscience on policy or tie their salvation to the ways they participate in the political sphere. Indeed, one of hopes of this project is to think critically about political theology without confusing the two kingdoms. The institutional church is ill-equipped to do politics (regardless of whether it’s of a left or right wing variety) even as individual Christians cannot escape their political calling.

Therefore, what follows is not a ten-step program or political agenda but simply identifiable areas where Christians, guided by conscience, may find opportunities to help shape and lead the debate.

With the necessary throat clearing complete, let us focus on the first of three zones of political opportunity.

The future of the American family

Perhaps no single issue has captured the evangelical political imagination more than abortion. It was the exciting promise of justices who would overturn Roe v. Wade, and the subsequent delivery of said promise, that led many conservative Christians to vote for a twice-divorced television personality in 2016 and again in 2020.

But ever since Roe v. Wade was overturned in 2022, the pro-life movement has undergone something of an identity crisis. Some want to push for a federal, nation-wide ban. Others are content with leaving the issue to the states where more aggressive laws against abortion may be possible.

With disunion comes diminished power. For many years, the powerful bloc of pro-life evangelicals grew accustomed to the Republican Presidential hopefuls currying favor by promising to undo the constitutional right to abortion. When Roe fell, the leverage flipped and all of a sudden what some called the best option for pro-lifers was a candidate defending a policy of safe, legal, and rare. Unsurprisingly, some conservative Christians are despondent over accomplishing so much only to return to the status quo of Clinton’s America.

What the future of pro-life politics looks like is hard to discern except that it will almost certainly be absorbed into a larger pro-family coalition and agenda. Driving this emergent zone of political opportunity is a combination of existential anxiety over America’s falling fertility rate and resentment against the cultural and economic conditions that, to some, make family formation too difficult.

As of 2022, the fertility rate in America was 1.66 births per woman—far below the 2.1 replacement level necessary for a nation to thrive (the last time America hit replacement level was 2007). That by itself is cause for concern, but it’s not the only troubling statistic. On average, American woman say they want 2.5 children. The gap between desired children and actual fertility represents countless unmet hopes and expectations.

We cannot easily explain the economic, political, and cultural toll this toxic combination of national decline and individual discontent has on our country. All signs point to a new political movement committed to reviving everything from marriage to family formation. #MakeAmericaFecundAgain. You see it in the online pronatalists but also from more mainstream voices like Brad Wilcox and Tim Carney.

So what could a discerning Christian contribute to such a movement?

Christian contributions

The first, and most obvious, thing to say is that Christians offer a coherent critique of family un-friendliness and a positive vision for family life.

Pundits and commentators point to several factors that could explain low fertility rates. Rising housing costs, women participating in the workplace, climate doomer-sim—all of these, we’re told, make family formation more difficult.

In his book on American families, Tim Carney turns our attention away from politics and economics and towards what he calls our “culture of sterility.” It is a product of concerted efforts to sterilize us from any and all obligations, be that tradition, religion, or even family. Once we are free from all restraints, we’re told, we will experience true freedom and achieve happiness. Children have no place in a culture of sterility because they are the ultimate strain on independence (ask any parent).

The problem, of course, is that true happiness will always escape the isolated and atomized individual because we were made for connection. Man is a social creature, says the Lord, it is not good that he should be alone (Genesis 2:18).

Contrary to the what the culture of sterility says, it is in fact those things which obligate us to others—religion, tradition, family—which give our lives purpose and meaning. Yes, marriage can be difficult, and parenting is often thankless work. But family life is also one of life’s most rewarding experiences. There is no other feeling like the joy of being loved unconditionally. Nor can one replicate the experience of seeing the world through the eyes of your child to whom a leaf, a sunset, or the waves at the ocean are fresh and new and mysterious. Earthly marriage and family life point us to Christ’s love for his bride, the church, and our Heavenly Father from whom and through whom and for whom are all things (Romans 11:36).

Families also play an important role in God’s redemptive mission. “I will be God to you and to your offspring after you,” says the LORD to Abraham (Genesis 17:7). In the Reformed tradition, we acknowledge that the promises of God extend to our children.

Having children is a common grace for all people and one way we fulfill the creational mandate, “to be fruitful and multiply,” and spread God’s image throughout the world (Genesis 1:28). But it is also the normative way by which God grows the church: “for I am a jealous God,” says the Lord, “visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Deuteronomy 5:9-10).

Christians, however, also recognize that sin and brokenness may prevent some from ever attaining marriage or children of their own. But being stitched together in Christ, the responsibilities of child-rearing are diffused throughout the church. Yes, parents own primary responsibility over their children, but the church has a duty of its own—to help and assist the parents, to teach children the Word of God, and pray for them that they may come to full, communing membership in the covenant community. It really does take a village!

The same principle extends to life in the kingdom of man. Even if couples married and began having kids at dizzying rates, it won’t do to replace a bunch of isolated individuals with a bunch of atomized families. Thick social bonds beyond the nuclear family are, and have always been, the strongest bulwark against tyranny and oppression. Within this zone of political opportunity, Christians can be lights in their communities to share the blessings of association and connection and help promote the common good.