January 6th, 2021 - The Fruits of Dominionism
I used to write fiction. In fact, my last novel was an exploration of this festering idea that the western church was somehow persecuted. While I liked the book, the storyline, and the characters, the sequel never materialised. I’ll tell you why: I’m not prophet, that’s for sure. But I am logical. In my mind, the logical flow from dominionist theology (seven mountain dominionism, or the idea that God has mandated the church to take dominion in “every domain of society”) was not good. In fact, it scared me. It may have even helped scare me into deconstruction.
What I saw yesterday as Trump supporters stormed the US Capitol looked eerily familiar to what I had seen in my minds eye. I could not, and did not, foresee a Trump presidency when I wrote that book. Like I said, I’m not a prophet. But I was deeply concerned by the attitude of entitlement that went along with the dominionist idea that political dominion was God-given. I watched, mystified, as Christian leaders abandoned their own moral convictions to rally behind an obvious narcissist with a checkered marital history, allegations of sexual assault, and a thin-to-the-point-of-laughable veneer of Christian allegiance. How was it anything but bleedingly obvious that this pathologically selfish, power-hungry thug was doing anything other than saying what he needed to say to lock up the nomination?
There are multiple flaws within the church universal that allowed for this to happen. Bad theology, poor discernment, prophets who confuse their own ideas or desires with the voice of God, the toxic mix of capitalism, dominionism and church to name a few. Perhaps the most significant issue was the tendency for neo-charismatic spokespeople to herald a “greater truth” when referring to the schism between the natural world and the spirit world. How could that not be cherry picked alongside scriptures about the “kingdom of God suffering violence and the violent take it by force”? How could that not result in prophets claiming supernatural overthrow of election results that church leaders hadn’t prophesied? How could that not end up in protests and riots?
It was not arrested then, and it hasn’t been arrested yet.
Now isn’t the day to go into a deep-dive on the issues with these sub-doctrines that seem to have combined to create a perfect storm for Christians to get caught up in the collective right-wing delusion. I have neither the heart nor the time for it. But I will say this:
We must take a keen, unbiased look at every doctrine and belief we hold, realising that if it is not good, if it is not kind, if it is not pure, if it does not build up what the Bible called “the least of us”, then it is not of God.
We must root out the heretical, damaging and unbiblical doctrine of dominionism that has woven its way into evangelical Christianity. Where money and power are promised, corruption can grow. The church is simply another at-risk organisation in this way.
We must give no pass to subtle or clandestine racism, misogyny, anti-government rhetoric, or false prophecy in our midst.
We must be about the hard work of reconciliation. Thoughts and prayers are not enough.
And we must realise that until the church is given back to the marginalised and disenfranchised for whom the person of Jesus dedicated his earthly life, then we are not the church he intended to be.
Now is not a moment to listen to a single church leader who excuses the behaviour at the capitol yesterday, or who claims it was “actually peaceful”, or that it was “necessary.” This was seditious and lawless. God is not glorified.
To my American friends, be safe. If it weren’t for Coronavirus, I’d offer my house up for your escapism! What a mad world we live in right now.
What a mad world indeed.
Dominionism in the Era of Trump and ScoMo: the 2019 Edition
This article was published last year. That was before a national crisis in Australia (the firestorm we are currently living through), a badly-timed Hawaiian holiday and ill-thought-out ad spruiking the Liberal Party’s response to the crisis (both by our PM if you missed those memos). It was before a Trump’s impeachment and the appearance of increasingly unhinged American President. Over the course of the last year, I’ve heard resounding questions as to why Christian voters aren’t so quick to wake up to it when their representative touts Christian values but behaves differently. (I’m aiming that statement more at Trump than ScoMo, but the latter is finding himself increasingly lit by an unflattering spotlight).
ANYWAY! I wrote this piece a year ago and published it, then accidentally trashed it, then found it again because – relevant. It’s still good, and it’s still worth a read. At this time in history, its prudent for the discerning voter, Christian or news/media consumer to both know of and rethink dominionism. This bad theology is, in my opinion, leading to an unreliable combination of bad politics and good ole Christian gullibility. I’ll do a 2020 version next week. For now, and for posterity, enjoy. (Pro-Tip: This article will make a lot more sense if you go read parts 1 , 2 and 3 of this series! You’re welcome.)
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Of the seven mountains in the Dominionist doctrine, none seems to possess the magnetism of politics. The reasons, I’m sure, would be as diverse as Dominionism’s adherents. One can only speculate why. Perhaps it’s because to conquer the mountain of business, you need to be a good business person. At the end of the day, your empire proves you. To conquer the mountain of music, you have to be a brilliant musician AND have the good luck to get noticed and signed. To conquer the mountain of education, you have to be smart, educated and bloody hard-working. In every other mountain, its your talent, dedication, hard work and results that prove you.
Politics has a different pull. Work the room. Get the votes. Influence the men at the top. Then you can say you’ve conquered. You can claim to be a power broker, or an important vote or voice, even if you never actually succeed in politics. It’s a different game entirely, lit up with personalities, promises and ultimately the seductive pull of power.
I promised in the teaser video that I’d talk about Donald Trump, Scott Morrison and Dominionism. Here’s the scoop – I don’t actually believe Trump or ScoMo are Christian Dominionists. I believe they are men who are playing to a niche of interested people – something any politician knows how to do. But around these men are political structures. That’s where the gameplay happens and that’s where Dominionism hides. Like I’ve said previously, this isn’t a doctrine with a sign-up sheet. No one is going to waltz into a political party and announce “I’m a dominionist and I’m here to take you over!” It’s far more nuanced than that.
The US ExampleReally, there’s no better place to look at political Dominionism than America. As mentioned before, Rushdoony has widely been credited as the father of Biblical Reconstructionism, and from that springs Dominionism. Rushdoony was born in 1916 and died in 2001, so the doctrine itself is only something that really sprung up over the last 100 years. If you take a glance across history, separation of church and state isn’t really a thing we’ve had since Constantine. The two have been quite intertwined, so it’s only in the recent past as the church lost its clout as the moral compass of society that we have seen this fight for power in the political arena.
Here’s the thing though: Christians aren’t all that used to losing privilege. How we react to that is unfolding in the public sphere in many ways, but it doesn’t appear that Christians en masse are ready, or rather willing, to reflect on that just yet. (Spoiler: we should. But I talk about that, among other things, in this video here.)
Over the last century, there have been a few significant moves that have spurred the Dominionist movement forward. Arguably the first was Billy Graham. In many ways, he was a standard-bearer for evangelicalism in the 1900s. Towards the end of his lifetime, he stated that one of his regrets was that he got too involved in politics. In an interview with Christianity Today in 2011, he said “I also would have steered clear of politics. I’m grateful for the opportunities God gave me to minister to people in high places; people in power have spiritual and personal needs like everyone else, and often they have no one to talk to. But looking back I know I sometimes crossed the line, and I wouldn’t do that now.”
The great irony is that, by the time he made that statement, the horse had bolted on Christian ministers seeking influence in politics. Perhaps it had bolted too far for many to turn their ear to Graham’s reflection.
But let’s fast forward until now.
Somewhere, someone (I hope) is writing a thesis on this stuff. You just can’t condense it into a blog post. While I would love to read such a thesis, writing it is not my jam. So here’s the pop-culture, layman version of American politics and Dominionism in the Trump era. There are better historians, for sure. But here goes.
The scoop is this: The ‘anointed one’ was never Trump. Before he wore that title, Ted Cruz and to a lesser degree Ben Carson did. Carson was a famed Christian and surgeon amid a crowded field that had a few other conservative draw-cards. Many pastors, leaders and members of the Christian right rallied around him and pinned titles upon him, such as “God’s man” for America. But he bowed out of the race on March 4. That was okay though because Ted Cruz still stood – a stoic conservative with a wide Christian following. He too could be called “God’s Man” for America. I watched from my couch in Australia as the proclamations and prophecies effortlessly shifted. No-one stopped to question whether the prophets had been wrong in word or intent when the Cruz bid for the Presidency was over on May 3.
While undoubtedly both men had their faults, both were legitimate men of faith. I could see the Christian connection.
Then. Came. Trump.
I wondered how on Earth the Christian Right could support such a man. This was Donald “Grab ‘em by the pussy” Trump. Since then, he has done some things that should at the very least raise an eyebrow if they fail to turn a stomach. His treatment of refugee families and children is infamous for its cruelty. His installation of Judge Brett Kavanaugh on the Supreme Court Bench was shrouded in scandal over the sex assault claims. The alleged victim was shamed. The judge was installed. When Trump was interviewed about the whole thing, his big wrap statement was “It doesn’t matter. We won.” I could go on. But time simply would not allow.
Currently, his public and personal empire is heading deeper into the mire when it comes to legal scrutiny. His personal lawyer, Michael Cohen, has been jailed. A number of investigations are underway putting the Trump-Russia connection under the microscope, and Florida democrats want an investigation into Trump’s cabinet over the Epstein Case. Several investigations are in process. Yet large portions of the Christian Right remain largely unwavering in their support of Trump.
How? It’s mind-blowing. I’ve heard (or read) a good many people say something along the lines of “He is God’s man for America because he is surrounded by so many Christians.” (Read more on that here!) Does it matter that he appears to have a trivial approach to law and ethics? Apparently not. In fact, the American Right appears to have no problem “rewriting their code of ethics” to support the guy (according to this article by Randal Balmer which lays it all out!)
Truth-bomb, friends: Trump is a businessman. He knows a target market when he sees one. Say the right thing, and you lock up the target market. That doesn’t mean he is listening. It just means he looks like he is. But you know a tree by its fruit. I see a problem here. We can be so blinded by the idea that someone in power is listening to us, that we neglect to take a second look and see whether they actually are. We should be asking serious questions about which way the influence flows when it comes to Trump and the Christian Right.
Many a political commentator has offered insight into how Dominionists have had their claws in team Trump. (Check out thisand this if you need more info, or this if you want info into the Dominionist tag attached to VP Mike Pence!) But here is my question: if the best Christian Dominionism can offer up is a thrice-married Businessman with a dubious attitude to women, the law, human rights and ethics (who looks like a raging narcissist if you ask me), then shouldn’t we be putting the righteousness, intent and discernment of the whole Dominionism movement under a little more scrutiny?
When we fall for the allure of power and influence, and dessert the idea that it all starts and ends with Jesus, we can switch off the conscience that should send up warning signals, and tell ourselves that the end justifies the means. If families are ripped apart, if sexual assault is trivialised, if women are belittled and made a joke – then the end does not justify the means. And that list is just a start.
Look, in a representative democracy, all creeds and faiths should be represented in government. Thus, it is to be expected that Christians would be involved. But dominionism is more militant than just democratic involvement. Its a call to war, a war that does not respect the equity and diversity of the world around us or the free choice God granted to all. It is a war that seeks to aggressively retake the reigns. Who cares who gets squashed on the way? As an egalitarian Christian woman, I’m all for faith and Christianity where it is faith in and (attempted) imitation of Christ. I’m not for the subjugation of people groups or belief systems that do not profess my creed. I don’t think God is either. Because He sent His Son as a baby, who grew up to die for the sins of the world. He did not send him to a palace. He sent him to a stable. But here we are, 2000 years later, trying too hard for the palaces.
Is Dominionism moving onto Australian soil?I have to preface this section by saying I’ve always been a conservative voter. I’ve held membership in conservative parties. I’ll probably err on the side of conservative politics for a long, long time even though the last election saw me hang with the swing voters for the first of what I’d say would be many times.
But here’s the kicker: I’ve also been a Dominionist, I just didn’t know it until I wasn’t one anymore. There might not be much on the public record about political Dominionism in Australia yet, but as the spread of the doctrine reaches across the seas, there are breadcrumbs to suggest that this movement is gaining momentum here.
I see four problems with this:
Dominionism may sound appealing to Christians on face value, but there are Biblical scholars who call it a heresy, saying it’s at odds with the example of Christ and that there is no Biblical basis for it. This should serve as a red flag, and cause us to delve a lot further into the motivations for it before we allow it on our pulpits alongside the message of salvation. A lot of harm can be done when we stray from where God wants us to be and throw our efforts into the quest for power instead. (Read more on that here)
There are legitimate conservatives who are involved in politics, and a strong political system needs constructive debate from all sides in order for balanced and fair policies to be written into law. If the Dominionism movement gathers momentum, it is possible that good-natured conservatives with a mind for civic service will get tarred with a Dominionist brush and the baby will be cast out with the bathwater. Given the tendency for Dominionism to take on a militant “here to take over” nature, it is natural that it would reap such opposition. We need legitimate conservatives in a balanced, well-functioning political system. We don’t need clandestine takeovers of established parties by people engaged the political equivalent of a pseudo-holy war.
Even within Dominionism, I have to acknowledge that there is a continuum. On one end we have good-natured (perhaps naïve) Christians who may have a somewhat misguided idea of Dominionism as spiritual servitude. They may get involved thinking this is what God wants of them. Good intentions meet bad doctrine but they aren’t bad people. On the other end, we have people who are militant in their intent, crafty in their methods and have their eyes on power. This, to me, is the more dangerous end of the continuum. Where each individual sits may change according to their own set of ethics, their read of the Bible, their circle of influence or their gumption when it comes to pursuing power.
My final concern is that the lack of discernment I see in the American Dominionist Movement may be echoed in the Australian effort. People at either end of that continuum may be caught up, thinking they have gained the ear of the people in power, but in actual fact, they may purely be a number in someone else’s game.
So that’s my personal thoughts on it. Let’s look at the Aussie reality.
Following the Breadcrumbs: Dominionism in Australia
While conservative politics has been alive in Australia for a long time, the word ‘Dominionism’ hasn’t really featured much on the public record. At present, the most you’ll get is links to Lyle Shelton of Australian Christian Lobby fame. (Read more here and here). Predictably, Shelton denies the allegations. While it is completely reasonable for a special interest group to have a lobby to campaign for its interests, let’s just remember that rule number one of Dominionism is kind of like rule number one of fight club: Don’t talk about it.
I didn’t hear about dominionism first in the news. I heard about it first from a pulpit. It was a guest preacher, an itinerant whose name I can’t remember. But his flash Powerpoint presentation mapped out the seven domains of society and built people up with the idea that their destiny, their God-given place, was at the top.
How exciting! We weren’t the only church who heard it, and I’m sure he wasn’t the only man who preached it. Years later, I was involved in an international network of churches who espoused this doctrine. We stood together, inspired by the message of our divine assignment and sang songs that asked: “What time is it?” The answer: “Its time to take over.”
The message of Dominionism has slipped its way into churches, but it’s unlikely to slip its way into headlines for a long time yet. It is clandestine. You won’t hear of someone walking into a political party and saying “I’m a Dominionist and I’m here to take over.” That’s a large red tick in a box marked ‘entitled weirdo.’ Nor will you read headlines like “Dominionist faction does blah blah.”
Still, we have had a couple of headlines that should raise the eyebrows of the discerning.
Headline number one was Cory Bernardi’s “Australian Conservatives” merging Christian micro-party “Family First.” The latter had long existed on the political scene but failed to gain much traction outside of their own home state.
Cory Bernardi is a staunch Catholic and a legitimate conservative. I very much doubt he is a Dominionist. But he sure has given Christians a logical place to go with their political support. It was a smart move in terms of votes, but Heaven only knows how discerning he is when it comes to recognising the Dominionism in his own ranks. Simply by virtue of its branding, the Australian Conservatives could well be a beacon that attracts Dominionists like moths to a flame.
More recently, whispers of factions within the Liberal Party have rumbled along. These rumours reached fever pitch at the last leadership spill when PM Malcolm Turnbull was ousted, the guy who kicked the leadership spill into motion couldn’t muster the votes and neither could the popular Party deputy. The person left standing at the end of it all was Scott Morrison – the Steven Bradbury of Australian politics.
Christians cheered. And that’s fair enough.
The jury is out on whether he is a Dominionist or just simply a pentecostal. A bit over two months ago, Awakening Australia happened. It was a Christian mega-conference that attracted crowds to an arena in Victoria. ScoMo chimed in, and again Christians cheered. The term “God’s man for Australia” was one I heard thrown around.
But when I heard ScoMo’s address to the Awakening Australia conference, I just heard a guy who knew how to speak to his target audience. It would be easy to see a Christian on the stage and think that the hand of the Almighty God has intervened in Australian politics and thus we should put our full-throated support behind the man and herald him as the saviour of Australian politics. But be discerning.
Is the Christian right really influencing ScoMo, or are we switching off our watching eyes and our listening ears because he wears the brand “Christian”? I haven’t heard much Christian discourse on ScoMo’s refugee policy, or even kickback over his tasteless comments on Pamela Anderson.
The guy is a politician. Plain and simple. But the energy of Dominionism is to surround such people, bend their ear and influence their decisions, so the best political commentators could do right now would be to watch what happens in the membership and administration that surrounds the Liberals.
On a state level, the finger-pointing continues after a conservative obliteration at the voting boxes in Victoria (especially for the Liberal Party). As the political columnists piece together the wreckage, we are starting to see an interesting picture. MP Mary Wooldridge took aim at a “small but dominant” group of right-wing conservatives in the party’s membership. That’s a big breadcrumb.
More sensationally, the text message scandal featuring Marcus Bastiaan shows the same man who has been accused of branch stacking, targeting conservative churches and community groups in his recruitment drives presumably to bolster his factions numbers, privately denigrate Catholics and ethnic groups in the State Party to his friends. (More on that here)
The scandal has caused widespread outrage and the predictable cries of innocence from those involved.
Where’s Dominionism in all of this? It was Wooldridge’s use of the term “dominant conservatives” that raised my eyebrows. The message of the seven mountain ‘mandate’ may have softened the ground for someone like Bastiaan to sweep into churches and bolster faction numbers, or Bernardi to hold up a banner called “conservatism” and watch the membership forms roll in.
Once again, it’s important to know the difference between a legitimate conservative, and someone who knows how to take advantage of naive and/or ambitious and power-hungry dominionists and use them for their own ends.
Perhaps this is what Bastiaan is? Perhaps this is what Trump is? Time will tell what Morrison is.
It is my belief that good people get caught up in Dominionism for a variety of reasons including those mentioned in my dot-point list above. How this promise of power affects each individual will vary. Thus we can’t call them completely self-serving. Some will be. Others won’t.
But again, we must judge a tree by its fruit. Eventually, good-natured individuals getting caught up in Dominionist pursuits will likely become disenfranchised by the inevitable revelation that, unless they go full Frank Underwood and sell their souls, they are simply a number and a set of hands being used for someone else’s political gain.
I’m a proud Christian. So I have to ask a simple question: no matter what the motivation, is Dominionism good for Australia? I feel sad for the good people who get caught up, who give their time and effort for a cause they aren’t naturally interested in or become disillusioned because they are being used. I feel nervous when power-hungry Christians use the Dominionist heresy as a reason to chase down power and influence, thus dragging the good name of Jesus through the mud.
But when we look up from the individual to the collective effect, the result is concerning. Rather than Dominionism being a positive thing for Australian politics, it seems like the best it has offered the Liberals is an eye-watering defeat on a state level, a splintered party with warring factions, and a trail of wreckage in the office of the Prime Minister.
Dominionism is certainly here in Australia, a burgeoning movement but still here. While I will always believe that in a representative democracy, the Christian voice should be heard, I also believe that we need to abandon this idea that we should “take back the mountain of politics” – because in a representative democracy all voices are equal, but Dominionism hides a militancy and intent that seeks to silence the voices that do not agree.
A balanced and upfront approach is what is needed, not a clandestine effort at a takeover.
This was the 2019 version of events. I republished it unedited for posterity. Next week, I’ll lay out the 2020 version. A lot has transpired. Christian minor parties have shut down as the Morrison orbit sucked up the supporter base, but a national bushfire/climate crisis and some flawed decision making/empathy distributing efforts have cast a shadow over Morrison and potentially the Christian influences within the Liberal Party. Trump has been impeached on the heels of the damning Mueller report and the world has stood watching while the President chose to wage war via Twitter and then via an attack on an Iranian General on Iraqi soil.
My my. What a year. And its only the 14th of January. Tune in next week for that updated piece. For now, don’t go hating your Liberal friends! They aren’t bad, I’m sure. And I am sure they’re not all dominionists. Anyway! Read the other pieces in this series (links at the top) and I’ll see you next week.
Peace, friends.
Kit K
Why I’m Not a Dominionist Anymore
When I sat down to write this series, I knew I had to write a personal reflection because a helicopter view of the dominionism issue pales in comparison to the personal experience of it. Still, the first versions of this blog piece had too many elements. Too many other peoples stories. So I’m stripping it back and having a go at writing my experience of dominionism.
An experience I found crushing.
From the time I was 15, I studied a book called ‘In His Steps’ as part of a discipleship program I was in. The plot of this book involved the editor of a local paper who started to run it the way he believed Jesus would have – censoring certain ads, posting good news and omitting other stories – that sort of thing. That book began a movement that spawned millions of plastic bracelets that asked ‘WWJD? (What would Jesus do?).’ It had its upsides, sure. The very question should call us to a higher level of ethics, compassion and altruism. Right?
For my church, it began our slide into dominion theology. We just didn’t give it that name. I don’t know that we gave it a name at all.
I was 15 when I was introduced to the idea of taking over positions of influence for the cause of Christ. I was 30 when I started consciously questioning it. I was 32 before I gave it words, asking my husband in the quietness of our loungeroom whether the end justified the means. Here I am, 35, no longer going to a Dominionist church, and finally talking about it. And perhaps not a moment too soon.
It’s an interesting thing to reflect on. As a 15 year old who wanted to serve God to the best of her ability, I was a sponge. I soaked up all the teaching. However, in comparing notes with my husband, I realise that I always had reservations. But I felt strongly that if I did not participate, it would mean trouble for me somehow. I also knew that questioning authority was not the done thing in my church. It was dishonouring or rebellious and these things were snuffed out pretty hard. All my friends and family were in boots and all. If I wanted to be part of their lives, I had to be too. So I became a reluctant participant in the Dominionists efforts of my church.
It’s interesting – how you can justify some things to yourself when your entire life is wrapped up in it, when you know how difficult things will be for you if you raise your hand and say “Umm, I’ve got questions.” I certainly silenced my misgivings for a long time.
I absolutely know that not everyones experience will be like this. I’m only talking about mine. Even my husband’s was slightly different. He moved from our state’s capital to be part of this ‘rare true church.‘ If there was Coolaid to drink, he skulled it. Over time, the rose coloured glasses would shatter for him too. But the happy memories he looks back on from that time are not mine to share.
For years, the church (which my husband and I have moved on from) was involved in an international network with heavy Dominionist overtones. Catch cries like “What time is it? Its time to take over!”, “Dominion in every domain” and “Let’s go take the city” were met with songs about laying down our own ambition to serve the cause. We talked this. We sang this. We worked this.
Over time, I became aware that working out my salvation had become hard work – a fact that seemed at odds with Ephesians 2:8-9 “Salvation is by grace through faith and not of works, lest any man should boast” and 2 Corinthians 12:9 which talks about God’s grace being sufficient. I was hearing less and less of these scriptures, instead hearing constant reminders of how we must carry out our primary assignment or risk Gods grace being removed from our lives.
I now realise that second bit is unbiblical, and the truth I need to align myself with is that Gods love is the same no matter what. It would not change if I never attended church. It would not change if I was an utter failure at everything I attempted. Gods grace and His love never fails.
But my entire church, family and social community was so caught up in this movement that I dared not question it. My husbands natural interest in politics got swept into this, and the results of it were deeply uncomfortable for us at times. My natural desire to write, and write fiction, got swept into this. All of a sudden the hobby I’d taken up as a means of carving out some me-time in my crazy life was my ‘primary assignment.’ I was to conquer the mountain of arts and entertainment.
To me, it was more pressure, where I had only taken it up to escape the pressure that existed around me. Life had become relentless hard work. Salvation had become a curse. My only hope was a short life. But after four pregnancy losses, a fifth pregnancy finally survived beyond the seven week mark and I had to start asking what kind of life I wanted for my child. By virtue of this, I started asking what kind of a life my heavenly Father wanted for me.
That pondering turned out to be revelatory.
The Fruit of Dominionism
At the time I wrote my first novel, I was running a business, working full-time and serving on my church’s music and leadership teams. This meant that with meetings, bookwork, practices, Sunday services, and so on, I barely had time to myself. The business was a “kingdom” business I had entered with many misgivings. It turned out to be seven very difficult years. But it was in service of “taking the mountain of business and commerce.” I was working as a subcontractor in the education space, not just turning up to a job but trying to do my bit to ‘take the mountain’ of education. I was giving 120% in every aspect of my life and my adrenal system didn’t love this. I fell into exhaustion, constant migraines, and my battle with post-traumatic stress disorder became a complicated one to win.
When every action or inaction has eternal consequences, you can’t just take a sick day, can you? In fact, there are many things that fall by the wayside.
The wheels started to come off subconsciously as I started to look around and see exhausted people. A number of my friends were suffering with depression and anxiety. I myself was battling crippling fatigue. Many a lunch break was spent asleep, even asleep in my car if I was working out of town. But I brushed it off. It was too hard to think about.
Then I started writing my third novel. It was supposed to paint a picture of what it looked like when “the kingdom of God” was manifest on Earth – i.e. when Dominionism finally reached its peak and Christians had taken over everything. I didn’t like anything I could see in my minds eye as I listened to message after message searching for hints. So I looked to the Bible and found my answer in Romans 14:7 “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.”
My Dominionist experience had been governed by a driving mandate to gain power and influence in order to bring the kingdom of God (ie. righteousness). But it had come at the expense of peace and joy. If life as a Christian was a three-legged stool – it was crazy wonky, having only one leg to hold it up.
After watching a documentary the lights came on. I didn’t want to live this life. I didn’t even want to write about it, because I didn’t like what I saw in my minds eye when dominionists took over. I was a fiction writer. I could create utopia if I wanted. But the clashes were too deep even for fiction.
Losing Dominionism
Between October and November 2015, my husband and I quietly lost dominionism. If you know our personal story, you will also know we lost a lot more than just a bit of bad theology. But I won’t cover all of that here.
When we lost Dominionism, we also lost a sense of destiny and significance. To be honest, it was a painful loss. We had been told our family and church had national significance. Having entered this movement as youths, when we were idealistic and wanted to change the world, it had been a seductive belief, and there’s a risk our identity had been somehow built around it.
People ask me why someone would get involved in Dominionism. My answer is two-fold: 1) they may not realise they are, as this doctrine seduces you by degrees. 2) It is indeed seductive. If you are a Dominionist, you are not a normal person slugging it out in your job. You are destined for greatness. You have God on your side. You are, in a way, super human. You are destined to take over.
Destined.
I see it now as a grandiosity, and inflated sense of self. But the point of Christianity is Galatians 2:20 – Christ living in and through us. There’s no greater example of humility and servitude than Christ.
Still, losing that grandiosity was painful. Imagine going from the Christian version of Sidney Bristow on Alias – superspy with a super destiny masquerading as a run of the mill office worker – to being an average Joe asking ‘What is the meaning of life?’
It took three years to get to where I am now. It took a lot of pain, a lot of tears, and a lot of sleepless nights. But where I am is happy, at peace with my faith, still grappling with my grief but happy. My three legged stool isn’t wonky any more because it isn’t just righteousness trying to hold the whole thing up. Peace and Joy are there too.
The Question of Powerlessness
Unsurprisingly, my husband and I have spent many a late night up talking about why we have gone on the journey we have. When it comes to Dominionism at least, I have a theory. Or rather a hypothesis, because obviously it is unproven (can you tell I work as a research writer?)
My theory is that another seductive thing about Dominionism is that it shields us from our own powerlessness.
The church used to be a fearsome and powerful institution. It was the measuring stick against which society sized itself up. To swear on the Bible was deep and meaningful. To sin was mortally wounding. The church lead the charge with social justice, with serving widows and orphans and trying to make the world a better place.
Somewhere along the line we lost that higher ground. The secular world now exhibits a greater dedication to social justice, and often finds the church as the thing that opposes it. Government hums along without needing the churches permission or looking to it for guidance in most instances.
Dominionism, to me, seems to have its roots in fear not love. If we fear losing our rights, fear losing our relevance, then Dominionism is the antidote. It tells us we are destined to forcibly retake the ground we have lost. That God demands it of us.
Yet the higher law we are supposed to live under is the law of love. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself. Love-based faith, not fear-based activism.
Right now, at this point in my life, I do not live in fear of my powerlessness. I don’t, because my faith is in God who is all-powerful. I do not fear losing my rights. Because if I lose my rights, then I share in Christ’s sufferings, which according to my Bible means I’ll also share in His glory. I don’t need his glory. I am comfortable with not sharing his sufferings. But if I do, that’s ok.
It would be a light on the hill moment. It would be an opportunity to share a little light in a dark world. That would be ok.
I hear the persecution narrative from dominionists. But I don’t view Western Christians as persecuted. I’m happy to give that crown to our Middle Eastern brothers and sisters. There are places where the crown of persecution can be rightly worn.
It is not in a representative democracy where the worst persecution a Christian is likely to face is a deletable comment or an angry emoji reaction on Facebook.
It’s blunt. But it’s true.
I may have lost a lot, but losing Dominionism isn’t a thing I grieve. Three years on, I’m seeing purpose in my life again and I’m enjoying life that once again has peace and joy. I do believe that God has a plan for all of us. But I don’t think there’s anything grandiose in that. There is beauty in it for sure, though. And that is more than enough.
If you missed the rest of this series, then here’s the rest:
What is Dominionism?
Is there a Biblical basis for Dominionism?
Dominionism and politics in the era of Trump and ScoMo
What is Dominionism?
Welcome to the first in the series on “dominionism.” I’m starting to think that when I first named this blog, I should have named it “Woke Christianity” instead of giving it my name. But here we are, and I guess that’s the aim – talking about how Christianity can be conscious, examined, responsible, relevant and always reflecting Jesus. That’s why we have to talk about dominionism.
It’s a sneaky little doctrine that slipped its way into many churches. Up until about 5 years ago, I didn’t know I was a dominionist. I just was. I had taken for granted many elements of my faith, packing them into my metaphorical bag of beliefs without stopping to check whether they were right, relevant, Biblical, helpful or even asking the all-important question “what would Jesus think about this?”
Dominionism is the belief that Christians belong in and should pursue power and influence in the seven domains of society. These domains are said to be media, government/politics, education, economy/business/commerce, religion, arts/entertainment and family. Over the course of the next few weeks, I will be delving into the scriptural arguments for and against dominionism, its role in modern politics, its fruit, and my own personal experience with dominionism. As tricky as it is, I’ll try to keep these topics separate.
Today’s topic: What is this stuff and where does it come from?
Dominionism and the NAR
Dominionism is fruit of the NAR (New Apostolic Reformation) movement that started in America. That in itself is a fascinating little topic, as no one really claims membership to the NAR overtly. They are known by their theological markers – such as the belief that God is restoring church governance through returning the ‘lost roles’ of the apostle and prophet. It is essentially a fifth house within Christendom “distinct from Catholicism, Protestantism, Oriental Orthodoxy and Eastern Orthodoxy.” It is estimated to be the fastest growing movement in Christianity today, and it grows by “recruiting pastors of independent congregations and nondenominational churches” among other methods [1].
Big names in the NAR include C. Peter Wagner, Todd White, Randy Clark, Rick Joyner and Bill Johnson. Significant theologies include spiritual warfare, apostolic governance, dominionism, theocracy, supernatural signs and wonders, extra-biblical revelation and relational structures.
The issue of relational structures is a bit of a concerning one for me. It can mean (in some cases) no formal structure, grievance procedure or checks or balances in place for a person to gain the title of apostle or prophet. This leaves it wide open for people with lots of charisma to ascend to positions of power even if their doctrine and credentials are poor, and potentially makes it difficult for these people to be held accountable if their doctrines/prophecies stray into concerning territory. Cults of personality may develop (notice I said “may”not “will.”). How does someone gain the title of Apostle or Prophet? This varies from church to church. It may range from self-proclamation, to recognition of a gift, to some sort of ceremony.
Again, it may not be concerning in every instance. But the potential in such systems is that when a person wears the title of apostle or prophet, their words can be taken as infallible. Followers may build their lives around these words without question. Beliefs and doctrines may be added without scrutiny, by virtue of extra-Biblical revelation supposedly granted to these apostles and prophets who ‘govern’ NAR churches. Now, the Bible actually warns us against extra-Biblical revelation (Revelation 22:18-19, Proverbs 30:5-6, Deuteronomy 4:2). But that’s a topic for another day.
There’s no list or sign-up sheet for an NAR church, and they are unlikely to list dominionism among their core beliefs. This is a movement neck-deep in nuance and subtlety. You’ll need a bit of discernment to spot it.
Dominionism is sometimes called “7 Mountain Dominionism” or the “7M Mandate.” This drive towards Christian domination of the 7 domains uses some tactics that are innocent and others that are less so; varying from mastery of ones own craft, to spiritual warfare or subtler/sneakier methods to dominate or stack organisations or movements. It is perhaps best summed up by this quote (cited in [2]):
“Christians have an obligation, a mandate, a commission, a holy responsibility to reclaim the land for Jesus Christ—to have dominion in civil structures, just as in every other aspect of life and godliness,” wrote George Grant, the former executive director of Coral Ridge Ministries, which has since changed its name to Truth in Action Ministries. “But it is dominion we are after. Not just a voice … It is dominion we are after. Not just equal time … World conquest.”
In other words, they believe that Christians must occupy and subdue the world as God’s stewards of the earth. When I read these type of quotes, its hard not to recognise it as a call to arms, a certain militance in the stance taken by hard-line adherents to this belief. It’s an ‘us or them’ mindset, and with the call to action is a colonial type “conquer or be conquered” attitude.
Whats the Problem with Dominionism?
I remember watching “The Handmaids Tale” and discussing it with a friend. The plot might seem shocking to some, and even for me the ceremony stuff is a bit imaginative, but it was otherwise very reminiscent of the ultimate goal of Dominionists – a complete takeover of society by the Righteous. With Trump at the helm of America and a number of dominionist/NAR sorts around him, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched to me at all.
But contrary to how I used to think, I don’t believe that to be a good thing. Why? There are a few deeply concerning factors to be considered. Analysts Chip Berlet and Frederick Clarkson offered up these three points on Dominionism/Dominionists. The comments are focused on the USA, but with this particular theology spreading, pop any old country in there and you’ll get a good fit. They said [3]:
Dominionists celebrate Christian nationalism, in that they believe that the United States once was, and should once again be, a Christian nation. In this way, they deny the Enlightenment roots of American democracy.
Dominionists promote religious supremacy, insofar as they generally do not respect the equality of other religions, or even other versions of Christianity.
Dominionists endorse theocratic visions, insofar as they believe that the Ten Commandments, or “biblical law,” should be the foundation of American law, and that the U.S. Constitution should be seen as a vehicle for implementing biblical principles.
Berlet and Clarkon’s points are poignant for a few reasons. There could be whole theses devoted to the topic of democracy, especially representative democracies like Australia and the USA. But the core takeaway is this: we all live here. We all belong here. The idea of a covert take-over of any democracy would involve squashing the rights of others who share it. That’s not okay with me. That shouldn’t be okay with us.
This does not mean that Christianity has no role. It means that we have to play nice with the other kids, while letting our light shine (to quote the cliché). I’d rather attract people to my faith than demand they adopt it. I’d rather be the carrot than the stick. Dominionism has the potential to be all stick.
As to the topic of religious supremacy, Australia’s current Prime Minister (Scott Morrison, an evangelical), said in his maiden speech: “Australia is not a secular country—it is a free country. This is a nation where you have the freedom to follow any belief system you choose. Secularism is just one. It has no greater claim than any other on our society [4].”
He was speaking about secularism. But the same could be true for Christianity. One trend I’ve noticed recently is that of Islamophobia. For Christian dominionists, freedom of religion seems to be synonymous with only their religion (or their stream of it). The right of Muslims to practice theirs is the topic of many an irate Facebook post. The truth is any citizen should be free to practice their religion as long as it exists within the boundaries of the laws of that country and does no harm to others. Likewise, the laws of the land should not ban legitimate practices of faith.
Michelle Goldberg wrote this of Dominionism [3]:“In many ways, Dominionism is more a political phenomenon than a theological one. It cuts across Christian denominations, from stern, austere sects to the signs-and-wonders culture of modern megachurches. Think of it like political Islamism, which shapes the activism of a number of antagonistic fundamentalist movements, from Sunni Wahabis in the Arab world to Shiite fundamentalists in Iran.”
Mic drop, Ms. Goldberg. We can’t point an irate finger at Islamic fundamentalism while denying the harm done by Christian fundamentalism. She also points out something rather concerning: Dominionism has its origins in Biblical reconstructionism, which harks back to a guy named Rushdoony – a prolific and influential totalitarian. Yep. You read that right. Totalitarian. Why would a free-will giving God anoint totalitarianism as His preferred form of government? It is counterintuitive at best.
While it is certainly more obvious in America, there are strong indications that dominionism has reached Australian shores. ABC journalist Chrys Stevenson wrote this of the Australian Christian Lobby, while examining their potential dominionist tendencies [5]:
Dominionism goes beyond Christians exercising their democratic right to be politically active. Dominionists aim to dominate the political process – to exercise “a disproportionate effect on the culture.”
Lyle Shelton is the son of Ian Shelton, pastor of Toowoomba City Church, a “transformation” ministry which grew out of the now defunct Logos Foundation, a cultish group closely associated with dominionist and reconstructionist theology.
Apparently, Shelton Snr joined Logos in the early 1980s when Lyle was in his pre-teens. When the group folded in the wake of its leader’s sexual indiscretions, it was resurrected by Shelton in the guise of the Toowoomba City Church. Shelton Senior’s vision is for Toowoomba to become:
“a transformed city where all the spheres – sport/arts/leisure, welfare, health, media & information, law/police/judiciary, politics & government, business & commerce, education – … come under the lordship of Christ.”
Compare this with the words of the late American dominionist, D. James Kennedy, from the Center for Reclaiming America for Christ, and it becomes clear that Shelton and Kennedy sing from the same hymn book – although, perhaps, on different scales:
“Our job is to reclaim America for Christ, whatever the cost. As the vice regents of God, we are to exercise godly dominion and influence over our neighborhoods, our schools, our government, our literature and arts, our sports arenas, our entertainment media, our news media, our scientific endeavors – in short, over every aspect and institution of human society.”
“From local parents and citizens associations to regional councils, from our previously secular state schools to state government departments and even within Parliament House, Canberra, this particular clique of evangelical Christian extremists is working quietly but assiduously to tear down the division between church and state, subvert secularism and reclaim this nation for Jesus.”
Christians are certainly charged with the Great Commission. They are certainly charged with being salt and light, representatives for Christ on Earth. I have no issue with that. The issue is not in the spread of Christianity per se. Its in the methods used, and the nature of the drive beneath dominionism. The scriptural clashes are a plenty, and a matter for next weeks blog. For now, the important thing is this – Dominionism is a thing, its here, and it is usually covert and militant in its nature. We’ve met Islamic Fundamentalism. Its out there. So too is Christian fundamentalism and this is one way it manifests.
A Question of Motivation
Dominionism may seem attractive on the surface, as it tells its followers they are destined for power and influence – seductive promises indeed. But dig deeper. Use your imagination. Or just use Margaret Atwood’s if you can’t be bothered coming up with the plot yourself. Totalitarian theocracy is a Kim-Jong Un meets Commander Waterford kind of nightmare.
If it’s not abundantly obvious by now, I am a deeply conscientious, deeply devout Christian. I’m also anti-Dominionism. But does that mean that Christians can’t occupy positions of power or influence within the 7 domains of society? No! In fact, I don’t think we can avoid it. The idea of the 7 domains is that everything is covered. I work in media and communication. I should be free to do my thing and rock at it. I have friends who all live and work within these seven domains. If we want to earn an honest living, we can’t avoid this.
But the question is always motivation. I work where I work because I believe I can make a positive contribution, and because I enjoy it. I have friends who are upper level managers. They do what they do because they are good at it, because they like it, or because it pays well (lets be honest!). We should be able to contribute positively and live out our faith conscientiously. We should never have to, or desire to, live out our faith in a sneaky, subversive way or in a way that seeks to subdue others and take away their rights.
Dominionism has, at its heart, the subduing of other forces (i.e. people, and their opinions) to get to the top and then rule from there. Yet Jesus Himself was not militant. His followers were not militia. They served. They lifted the downtrodden. I don’t see any example of Him taking what was His by force, or by subduing another person or their rights. His was a life that drew crowds by attraction, not by demand.
And herein lies the inherent problem with dominionism.
There will be time when the tide turns against Christianity. I can’t deny that there are some ideologies held by my fellow Christians that don’t stand up well to public debate. The tide has turned against such ideas. But the parable of the bushel talks about letting our light shine in a dark world. It doesn’t talk about taking that light and setting stuff on fire because you want it all to shine too. I think they call that arson. Legitimate Christianity should be positive. And until such a time as it is outlawed, it should be practiced overtly. If there is a reason to hide your faith, or to sheild your faith-related activities from the eyes of the wider community, I’d have to question why.
We should all be free to, and perhaps obligated to, contribute to society in a positive way. Does Dominionism facilitate that? Tune in next week when we take a Biblical look at it.
Bibliography/References:
[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Apostolic_Reformation
[2] https://www.thedailybeast.com/dominionism-michele-bachmann-and-rick-perrys-dangerous-religious-bond
[5] https://www.abc.net.au/religion/is-the-australian-christian-lobby-dominionist/10101124