I was taught in Bible college, religion and politics don't mix.

Jerry Falwell, a man both loved and condemned for his boldness, once reflected: “I was taught in Bible college, religion and politics don’t mix.” These words, simple in form yet heavy with history, touch upon a tension that has haunted nations for centuries. For religion, which claims the soul, and politics, which governs the body, both reach for authority over human life. When bound too tightly, they can either sanctify tyranny or corrupt faith. When kept apart, they preserve their integrity, each serving in its own realm.

The ancients themselves grappled with this problem. In Rome, Caesar demanded worship, and faith became a tool of empire. Yet in Judea, the prophets cried that the kingdom of God was not to be confused with the kingdoms of men. Even Christ, when asked whether tribute should be given to Caesar, declared: “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.” This was not merely cleverness, but wisdom: that the sacred must never be reduced to a servant of political power. Falwell’s words echo this ancient separation, taught in many schools of divinity, that faith should guard its holiness by avoiding entanglement with worldly rule.

Consider the story of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury in the 12th century. Once a close friend of King Henry II, he resisted the king’s attempt to control the church. For this defiance, he was slain before the altar, his blood staining the stones of Canterbury Cathedral. His martyrdom reminds us of the peril when politics seeks to dominate religion, and when religion bows too easily to kings. Becket’s courage preserved the principle that the conscience belongs first to God, not to the crown.

And yet, O listener, there is another danger: when religion remains silent before injustice. Too often, tyrants have rejoiced when priests preached obedience without resistance, when prophets held their tongues, when the sacred was used to sanctify cruelty. Thus, Falwell’s statement carries both wisdom and warning. To say “religion and politics don’t mix” is to remind us that faith should not be a pawn of political power. But it must also not be so detached that it abandons the people to the oppressors of their age.

History gives us a brighter example in the life of Martin Luther King Jr. Rooted in the church, yet addressing the state, he brought his faith into public life not as a weapon of domination but as a trumpet for justice. His sermons moved marches, his prayers shook governments, and his faith ignited change. Here we see a harmony: faith informing conscience without becoming enslaved to party or throne. For religion should inspire politics, not be consumed by it; politics should hear religion’s call to justice, not silence it with power.

The lesson is clear: keep faith pure, and keep politics honest. Do not let politicians wield religion to secure their crowns, nor let priests wield politics to secure their thrones. Let each serve its purpose: religion to lift the soul, politics to order the body. But let the voice of conscience, born of the sacred, guide the hands of rulers toward mercy, truth, and justice. In this way, the two may walk beside one another without corruption, each strengthening rather than poisoning the other.

Practical wisdom flows from this: if you are a person of faith, do not surrender your beliefs to the manipulation of parties or ideologues. Let your conscience speak freely, unchained to earthly thrones. And if you are a citizen, do not allow the state to silence the prophetic voice that calls for justice. Seek balance: faith must guide, but never dominate; politics must serve, but never corrupt.

So remember, O children of tomorrow: religion and politics don’t mix when power seeks to bind them in chains. But when conscience born of faith speaks truth to power, the world is changed. Guard this balance, and you will honor both God and man, preserving the holiness of the sacred and the justice of the state.