In Admiration of Stanley Hauerwas

On May 10, I posted a blog article titled ”In Admiration of John Wesley and Methodism.” This post expresses my admiration for Stanley Hauerwas, a contemporary Methodist scholar who is celebrating his 85^th birthday next week. 

(Hauerwas in 2022)

Stanley Martin Hauerwas was born in Dallas on July 24, 1940. He grew up in a working-class household located in a suburban area of that Texas city. His father was a bricklayer, and Stanley worked summers with his father from the age of nine.

Upon finishing high school, Stanley enrolled in Southwestern University in Texas, the first in his family to attend college. Then he went to Yale, where he earned his B.D. (M.Div.) degree in 1965 and completed his Ph.D. in theology and ethics in 1968.*

Even though he became a theology and ethics scholar, he retained much of the blue-collar culture of his boyhood. His “salty” language was criticized by some people who thought a university professor shouldn’t use “unacceptable” language.

Hauerwas married in 1962, the year he finished college, and six years later, his only child, a boy, was born. His wife struggled with mental illness, though, and they divorced after 25 years of marriage. In 1989 he married Paula Gilbert, a theologian and an ordained United Methodist minister.

I first learned about Hauerwas by reading Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony (1989), a book co-written with William Willimon. That was a rich read for me, and it influenced how many Christians perceived their role in society.  

When I recently looked at the notes I took when I read Resident Aliens again back in 2008, I wrote, “Thirty-six years ago, the authors contended, ‘The times are too challenging to be wasting time pressing one another into boxes called liberal or conservative. The choice is between truth and lies’ (p. 160).”

And then in the concluding sub-section of the last chapter, they aver that

the challenge facing today’s Christians is not the necessity to translate Christian convictions into a modern idiom, but rather to form a community, a colony of resident aliens which is so shaped by our convictions that no one even has to ask what we mean by confessing belief in God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Hauerwas’s newest book is Jesus Changes Everything, a small volume edited by Charles Moore and released by Plough Publishing House in March 2025.** Much in that book is a reaffirmation of what he and Willimon emphasized in Resident Aliens.  

In his ten-page introduction of the author, Moore says that “Hauerwas eludes categorization. He is neither conservative enough for the conservatives nor liberal enough for liberals” (p. xxiv).

In the concluding paragraph of that introduction, Moore states,

Stanley Hauerwas and his writings were a large reason why 30 years ago I left a professorship at a seminary and moved 2000 miles with my wife to join the Bruderhof, a Christian community that shares possessions in common in accordance with the Sermon on the Mount.

Then, in an article published by the Bruderhof in March 2025, Anglican priest Tish Harrison Warren writes that she “became a pacifist because of Hauerwas” and that she has “friends who went to seminary to study theology because of Hauerwas’s work. His words change people.”

Hauerwas is a Mennonite theologian/ethicist, as well as being a lifelong Methodist and active in an Episcopal church. Unlike Warren, I became a pacifist long before I knew about Stanley Hauerwas, but I was delighted when I learned that he became a devotee of Mennonite scholar John Howard Yoder.

Unfortunately, Yoder (1927~97), who was arguably the most significant Anabaptist scholar of the twentieth century, badly tarnished his reputation because of his “abusive behavior toward women,” which became public in the 2010s. But his influence on Hauerwas was long before that.

In The Politics of Jesus (1972), Yoder argued forcefully that the life, death, and resurrection of Christ necessitates a nonviolent discipleship as the definitive Christian ethic. Hauerwas adopted and extended that conviction: nonviolence is not optional but obligatory for loyal followers of Jesus.

Authentic Christians are “disciples” of Jesus rather than mere “admirers,” and the primary task of the church is to be the church, a faithful community of Jesus-followers, rather than an organization trying to do things for the benefit of society. Yes, indeed!

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  * I feel considerable affinity with Hauerwas. Born just two years earlier, I am the son of a (working-class) farmer and the first male in the direct-line Seat family to attend college, finishing with a B.A. degree in 1959, graduating from seminary with a B.D. in 1962, and then finishing work for my Ph.D. in 1966. When it comes to nationwide influence, books written, and scholarly articles published, though, there is absolutely no comparison.

** Moore is a contributing editor and author for Plough, the publishing arm of the Bruderhof community, introduced in my 12/5/20 blog post. Moore is also the editor of Provocations: Spiritual Writings of Søren Kierkegaard (1999), a valuable, easy-to-read book, as well as the compiler and editor of Called to Community (2016; 2^nd ed., 2024). Hauerwas wrote the Foreword to the latter.  

The Calamitous Co-option of Christianity

Vern Barnet, Ph.D., is a gifted man who has long been a prominent person in Kansas City. I am honored to have him not only as a Thinking Friend but also as a personal friend. This blog post was written in response to a request that I received from Vern several weeks ago.

Thanks for Noticing: The Interpretation of Desire is the title of a book of sonnets that Dr. Barnet published in 2015. He is now revising that erudite book and is asking friends/acquaintances to make comments arising from some of the sonnets in it. 

In particular, Vern asked me to comment on “A Roman Soldier,” his 12th sonnet, using it “in some way to develop the Christian ideal of pacifism in contrast to military powers” linked to Christianity from the 4th century to the present.  

Constantine, the Roman emperor who reigned from 306 to 337, was the first Roman emperor to convert to Christianity.  

The spark of Constantine’s conversion was struck in 312 when during a military battle he suddenly saw “a bright cross of light emblazoned against the noonday sky and upon it the inscription: ‘In hoc signo vinces’ — ’In this Sign Conquer.’”*1 He then did use the sign of the cross and was victorious.  

The following year, the Edict of Milan was promulgated. It stated that Christians within the Roman Empire should be treated benevolently, so it gave Christianity legal status and a much-needed reprieve from persecution. 

Constantine’s vision changed his life—and Christianity as well. Indeed, up until that time the faithful followers of Jesus Christ had been pacifistic, but now for the first time their religion was being used in warfare. That connection has been prevalent in Christianity from then until present times.  

The subtitle of Barnet’s 12th sonnet is “Circa Anno Domini CCCXXV.” That year, 325, was when the Council of Nicaea (or Nicea) was convened by Constantine. The purpose of that gathering was to settle theological matters, but Constantine’s main desire was to foster unity among his subjects.  

Constantine did apparently seek to affirm and uphold many of the practices of Christianity and was not just a CINO (Christian in name only). But his continual use of the sword questions his understanding of and/or allegiance to the teachings of Jesus Christ. 

After 312, Roman soldiers continued to fight, but they did so in the name of a different “god.” The soldier in Barnet’s sonnet “slew heretics” for the sake of Mithra, the sun god. Now, though, “Constantine says Christ is why we fight.”  

Some in the Anabaptist tradition, which began in 1525, have called Constantine’s conversion the fall of Christianity. As one who identifies with that tradition, I agree with that designation. Thus, I am calling Constantine’s conversion a calamitous co-option of Christianity.*2 

Certainly, though, that has not been the last such co-option.  

Have you noticed Donald Trump’s co-option of Christianity? Of course, the current nominee for POTUS isn’t seeking to become an emperor such as Constantine was, and it is not all of USAmerican Christianity that has been or is being co-opted.  

To a large extent, though, Trump has co-opted a wide swath of white evangelical Christianity for his political ambitions. Around 80% of such Christians voted for Trump in both the 2016 and 2020 elections, and recent polls indicate that the percentage this year may be nearly as high. 

Certainly, evangelical Christian leaders such as Ralph Reed have long sought to gain political influence by cozying up to the Republican Party. Reed is the founder (in 2009) and chairman of the Faith and Freedom Coalition (F&F), and they have held conferences yearly since 2010.  

Trump has spoken at the F&F conferences repeatedly since 2011. (I attended that conference as a “spy,” and my impression of Trump, whom I then knew little about, was that he seemed like a “lightweight.”) In seeking to be elected POTUS in 2016, he gave a major speech in 2015. 

In June of this year, the F&F’s “2024 Road to Majority” conference was held at the Washington Hilton hotel, and the three minute video summarizing that gathering (see here) concludes with a brief clip of Trump’s keynote speech.  

Trump’s co-option of Christianity is, admittedly not as calamitous as Constantine’s was, but it is, sadly, a major reason why so many younger evangelicals, and others, have turned away from Christianity at this critical time when Jesus Christ’s message of love for all is so badly needed. 

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*1 These words are from the brief and quite positive account of Constantine’s conversion found in a Christian History magazine article (see here).  

*2 Co-option is the process by which a political leader or organization selects and absorbs some other organization or its ideas/practices into their structure or system in order to expand their strength/influence. 

Note: The co-option of religion is certainly not limited to Christianity. Consider, for example, the co-option of Shinto by Japanese militarists in the 20th century, of Islam by the Taliban and the Islamic State in the past several decades, Judaism by militaristic Zionists in the last century and since 10/6/23, Hinduism by the Bharatiya Janata Party in India, and Buddhism by militants in Sri Lanka and Myanmar.