Martyrdom, Self-Sacrifice and Political Theater
As the nation watches two days of AG William Barr testifying about the Mueller Report, a call for substance and sacrifice over show in Washington.
My friend, a long-time Washington, DC veteran, is director of government relations for a large nonprofit. Not long after Mr. Trump became president, he described Congress as “through the looking glass.” That is, life in Washington had become as random, absurd, and foolish as the bizarre “Wonderland” into which Lewis Carroll sent Alice. How so?
Yuval Leven writing in Commentary last June made this observation:
Simply put, many members of Congress have come to see themselves as players in a larger political ecosystem the point of which is not legislating or governing but rather engaging in a kind of performative outrage for a partisan audience. Their incentives are rooted in that understanding of our politics and so are not about legislating. They remain intensely ambitious, but their ambition is for a prominent role in the theater of our national politics. And they view the institution of Congress as a particularly effective platform for themselves—a way to raise their profile, to become celebrities in the world of cable news or talk radio, whether locally or nationally, to build a bigger social-media following, and in essence to become stars.
That is, Congress rather than fulfilling any kind of leadership, legislative, or policy role is merely political theater — boring, predictable, and increasingly annoying political theater. And, let me add, that the White House has descended to the same low level, but then you knew that.
Where Have All the Leaders Gone?
Where have all the leaders gone?
In their new book, The Marvel of Martyrdom: The Power of Self-Sacrifice in a Selfish World, social psychologists Sophia Moskalenko and Clark McCauley have some of the answers. (Note bene: Clark McCauley is my close friend, fellow parishioner, and fishing buddy.)
“Martyrdom and self-sacrifice,” they argue, “are cornerstones of Western civilization.” Martyrs, in the name of some larger cause, deliberately and in a premeditated way accept suffering or even death. That suffering then produces change.
Beginning with Jesus, the book cites examples of those who chose suffering for a greater good. These include Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Janusz Korczak and the fictional characters Frodo Baggins and Crime and Punishment’s Sonya Marmeladov.
The second century theologian Tertullian famously wrote, “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” Moskolenko and McCauley demonstrate that even apart from the power of the Holy Spirit, self-sacrifice and martyrdom are the seeds of meaningful change and cultural reform. They are also the seeds of personal happiness.
Leaders Self-Sacrifice … and Lead Others to Do the Same
Which brings us back to Congress where nothing of any consequence appears to be happening as posturing, social media stardom, outrage, and fatuous promises push much if not most serious discussion to the sidelines.
Moskolenko and McCauley observe, “our politicians seem to believe that we would only support them if they offer us empty promises and would abandon them if they asked us to self-sacrifice. This idea is simply wrong.”
They go on: “Research in organizational psychology shows that leaders who self-sacrifice and call on their followers to do the same are more successful than leaders who don’t. Group leaders who self-sacrifice are seen as more charismatic, more effective, and more group oriented by group members. Groups with self-sacrificing leaders are more productive.”
It’s true of churches. Theologically liberal churches that go with the relativistic flow have shriveled up and are dying while theologically orthodox churches that preach self-denial in faith, morality, and lifestyle thrive.
It’s true of schools. The best ones demand counter-cultural things like civility, honor codes, and self-sacrifice for the good of the community.
We laud “the greatest generation.” Why? Because they were a self-sacrificing generation. They either went to war or sacrificed at home with rationing, war bonds, economic constraints, and news of dead loved ones.
On April 28, 1942, President Franklin Roosevelt told the American people, “Here at home everyone will have the privilege of making whatever self-denial is necessary, not only to supply our fighting men, but to keep the economic structure of our country fortified and secure during the war and after the war. This will require, of course, the abandonment not only of luxuries but of many other creature comforts.”
Admittedly we are not in a war and we should all thank God. But even in times of peace and prosperity, we always have the option of sacrificing for others and looking out for the common good rather than feathering our own nests financially, professionally, and socially.
There’s no good reason to expect self-sacrifice or calls for self-sacrifice from our political leadership. Both sides of the aisle are far too busy playing the game and making extravagant promises no one expects to keep.
Change, if it comes, will come from servants of the Suffering Servant who understand that “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13).