Two weeks ago in this space I reviewed Charles Marsh's new book Wayward Christian Soldiers: Freeing the Gospel from Political Captivity. Many of you wrote in response; there were also indirect responses, on blogs and so on. Thanks to all who wrote, pro and con. It was nice, of course, to hear from readers who appreciated the review, and not so pleasant to hear from others who said that I epitomized the very pathology Marsh was concerned to draw to our attention. What was disappointing was the relatively small number of responses suggesting the possibility of ongoing conversation between different vantage points. There were some such, but not so many as might be hoped.

In the interest of furthering such conversation—and in the spirit of Alan Jacobs' column on Cass Sunstein—I want to return briefly to the subject this week. One criticism I received from several writers was that I had simply failed to respond to the "substantive issues" Marsh raises. This kind of response can easily be a conversation–stopper, or merely the cue for a variant of the wonderful Monty Python "argument" skit.

So how to proceed? Maybe just by trying to carry on a conversation anyway. Case in point: a response to my review from D. W. Congdon on the thoughtful blog The Fire and the Rose, which Congdon—a student at Princeton Theological Seminary—maintains with several like–minded souls. Congdon began by saying that I had written "another unnecessarily harsh and unfair review of a book" (he didn't specify the previous occasions he had in mind). Congdon, I should add, is a regular reader of Books & Culture (more recently he posted a favorable comment on Ric Machuga's review of Michael Behe's new book). Whatever our disagreements on Marsh's book and the larger subject it addresses, we should be able to talk.

Most of Congdon's post is devoted to the theme that "partisan evangelicalism" does indeed "run rampant" in large segments of our nation—not least in his hometown, Portland, Oregon. He refers to a New York Times piece about evangelical voters' response to Giuliani, which quotes a voter who says that Giuliani—as a supporter of abortion rights—will never get his vote. Later in the article, however, as Congdon reports, we learn that among the 40 evangelicals interviewed, most would vote for Giuliani if he were to win the Republican nomination, on the grounds that he "would be preferable to any Democrat."

Here is what Congdon says in response:

There is a lot in this article worth pondering, but at the very least it gives a glimpse into the deep partisanship of conservative evangelicalism. Like many Christians I know from my home town, it is more important to keep a Democrat out of office than to elect the best candidate. For such people, preventing the death of unborn children is infinitely more important than the deaths of born men, women, and children around the world, often at the hands of American soldiers. Personally I would not just call this partisanship; I would call it idolatry.

I'd agree with Congdon that Christian voters, whether Republicans or Democrats—or neither—should vote for the candidate who seems best for the country. (It was in that spirit that Wendy and I voted for Bill Clinton in 1992.) Such judgments, of course, as I suggested in my review of Marsh, should be informed by an acknowledgment of fallibility, a strong appreciation for the law of unintended consequences, and a sense of irony informed by history. (Did I mention the election of 1992?) And it is not unreasonable, never mind idolatrous, to factor in the party affiliation of a candidate for president, since you are not just voting for an individual when you vote for president. What Congdon is describing here sounds (to me, at least) very much like the way we all muddle along as we participate in the messy business of electoral politics.

What really struck me, though, was Congdon's assessment of those Christians from his hometown. It seems remarkably ungenerous coming from a writer who has begun by complaining about an "unnecessarily harsh and unfair review." Isn't it possible that "such people" take the deaths of those "born men, women, and children" very seriously indeed? On what basis is Congdon justified in concluding that "such people" value the life of an aborted child "infinitely more" (and please note the word "infinitely" in particular)? Isn't it possible that for these Christians, the wrongness of abortion has a moral clarity that is often difficult to achieve in matters of foreign policy, say? And by the way: Are there other Christians—perhaps even in Portland—who believe that the wrongness of the U.S. invasion of Iraq has a stunning moral clarity? And if such Christians would be inclined to use that decision as a way of evaluating any candidate (where does he or she stand on Iraq?), would they too be guilty of idolatry?

These are a few of the things that occurred to me as I was reading Congdon's response. I hope the conversation will continue.

John Wilson is the editor of Books & Culture.

Copyright © 2007 Books & Culture. Click for reprint information.