Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 8440 Plough Quarterly • Winter 2017 When Thomas Merton became a Trappist monk, he was criticized for indulging in a way of life that seemed indifferent to the world’s problems. His reply was straightforward, even if it was rejected by most: By my monastic life and vows I am saying No to all the concentration camps, the aerial bombardments, the staged political trials, the judicial murders, the racial injustices, the economic tyrannies, and the whole socioeconomic apparatus which seems geared for nothing but global destruction in spite of all its fair words in favor of peace. I make monastic silence a protest against the lies of politicians, propagandists, and agitators, and when I speak it is to deny that my faith and my church can ever seriously be aligned with these forces of injustice and destruction. 1 A life together with others need not be an escape from the world; it is something we do for the sake of the world. We should always feel responsible for the general welfare of others, but the church serves society best when it embod- ies the kind of community in which God himself reigns. Only then do we have anything distinctive and life-giving to say. Ironically, those who in the name of Christ advocate righteous causes by pressuring Congress to pass laws and better spend their tax money usually fail to do justice to the radically communal, and thus political, nature of discipleship. In fact, much of what passes for Christian political activity, on both the left and the right, stems from having despaired of being the church. As Hauerwas and Willimon argue in Resident Aliens, we fool ourselves whenever we strive through power and partisan politics to make the culture at large a little less racist, a little less promiscuous, a little less violent, a little less unequal and unwelcoming when we ourselves do not practice these things. 2 What we so easily forget is that the church, being the body of Christ, should look like Jesus. If we make our life in Christ secondary in order to more “effectively” influence society, we are, using an analogy drawn from Yoder, like a musician who leaves the stage in order to work Brigitta Racz, Paris, Montmartre