Having lived overseas for most of my adult life, and being a fan of several other Eric Metaxas books, I ordered a copy of his biography of William Wilberforce, called Amazing Grace. I have been plagued with a question since my return from the fields, and I felt Wilberforce’s story might offer me some clues and insights into my struggle. I was not disappointed.
If you are not aware of whom I speak, and why the mission and testimony of his life is so relevant for us today, let me preface by saying that William has that rare distinction of being a bona fide and first class world-changer. How many in human history can boast of abolishing a practice as grotesque as it was long, stretching back for more than five thousands years, as Wilberforce can? How many would be so singularly driven, relentless and resilient, in expending every ounce of energy and click of time for a period of forty-six years in pursuit of a political, sociological, and moral victory? And yet, the battle that William undertook until final victory in 1833—no less than 72 hours before he breathed his last breath—was this: the abolition of slavery throughout the entire British Empire.
America’s own story of emancipation would, sadly, not be so bloodless. And yet, Wilberforce’s lifelong struggle was a backdrop, an inspiration, and a trailblazing for Lincoln and all those who were in his shadow. His life was a lighthouse. He was the first to plant the freedom flag for the enslaved. His memory must be enshrined, his quintessence broadcast, his mantle taken up.
The question that has deeply bothered me can be best captured in a single word: Compartmentalized. After living among and laboring beside our Asian brothers and sisters in Christ for so many years, witnessing their focus, their all-out devotion, their unwavering commitment to Kingdom purposes, I found myself muddled by the immense distractions in our own faith journeys in the West. It confuses me to observe springs being a source of both fresh and bitter waters at the same time (Jam 3:11).
As a Christian, I wondered: is it possible to dance with the devil of politics and not have two left feet? What about the rhetoric that religion and politics don’t mix? What about the warnings that churches, or pastors, should not be too political? When foolish, or evil policies paralyze or endanger communities, why would we feel compelled to silence or distance ourselves. In the face of injustice and blatant disregard of basic human rights, are we to disengage while the wolves range freely? Are we following the Lion of the tribe of Judah, or the ostrich?
Wilberforce definitely did not compartmentalize. In Metaxas’ other top-shelf biography about Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor is compelled by the Spirit to enter the fray of politics in order to oppose the wickedness of Hitler. In Amazing Grace, it is the politician who in the Name of Christ and for His glory takes on the entire establishment of the premier superpower in his day, the British.
It almost did not happen. After William’s radical conversion, he wrongly assumed he should lay down the sword in the public arena. This was expected. He thought his duty was to pray for change, and leave the results to God and to the government. Fatefully, before Wilberforce resigned from Parliament to pursue “spiritual things”, he met the very man who wrote the hymn, Amazing Grace. So it is in this quote that the light burst forth upon my quandary:
“Newton didn’t tell him what he had expected—that to follow God he would have to leave politics. On the contrary, Newton encouraged Wilberforce to stay where he was, saying that God could use him there. Most others in Newton’s place would likely have insisted that Wilberforce pull away from the very place where his salt and light were most needed. How good that Newton did not.” Pp. 59-60
So unlike so many in Christian leadership who compartmentalize, claiming a spiritual high ground with platitudes like “we are called to preach the gospel”, or “our kingdom is not of this world”, Wilberforce entered the trenches of politics and never looked back. And it is a good thing he did: it is frightening to think of how many more millions of Africans would have continued to be brutalized and enslaved, and for how long.