It was another one of those Sunday mornings: a few days before, a kid had shot his classmates at a school. Sadness and anger were evident in the congregation. “When will we get real gun control?” lamented one older woman. Several other congregants murmured their consensus. It was evident that many believed if kids didn’t have access to guns, these tragic events wouldn’t happen.
Later, my wife expressed her own anger. “What they’re basically saying,” she said, “is that it’s okay for these kids to suffer so long as they don’t hurt anyone.” That most recent shooter had been autistic, had been poor in a rich school, had been bullied throughout his whole school career, and had just lost his widowed mother. One of his classmates told a reporter, “Someone could have approached a faculty member, a guidance counselor, a teacher and said, ‘This kid gets bullied a lot, someone should do something,’ … I definitely regret not saying anything.” 
I remember the first publicized school shooting, back in 1979.  Sixteen-year-old Brenda Spencer opened fire on the Cleveland Elementary School in San Diego, CA. She came from a broken home, lived with an alcoholic father with whom she shared a bed, was gay, and had experienced a traumatic brain injury due to a bicycle accident as a child.  When asked why she committed the shooting, she replied, “I don’t like Mondays.”  That response was so absurd that it became the title of a hit song by the Boomtown Rats. Spencer was tried as an adult, and remains in prison.
My wife says, “No one does this unless they’ve been broken, traumatized, lied to, and deceived.” She’s right. These kids are our children. They are broken and outcast. They live in a world that doesn’t want or accept them. I preached the following Sunday, and I called on my congregation to look beyond the tools of violence to its source. I quoted much from the Gospel of Matthew, but I see now that Luke has even more to say.
Beginning with Mary’s song of praise, the Gospel of Luke adopts a theme of raising and leveling (cf Isaiah 40:4). “He has brought down the powerful… and lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things…” (Lk 1:52-53). Jesus, as he begins his ministry in Nazareth,quotes Isaiah 61:1-2, indicating that the good news he brings is neither merely spiritual nor merely political. It addresses the needs of the poor, the incarcerated, the blind, the oppressed, and the landless (Lk 4:18-19). He ate with sinners, healed the unclean, and raised the dead. The ministry of Jesus in Luke heals the broken, lifts the downtrodden, and welcomes the outcast.
My home congregation is proud to be located in a historically-minority neighborhood.Yet it is dominated by well-educated, middle- and upper-middle-class white people, about 75%. The leadership is comes exclusively from that group. Though the leaders have expressed their intention to broaden the diversity of the leadership teams, that has not yet happened.
To be fair,about 15 years ago the congregation did make a conscious effort to have inclusive leadership. The effects were not what they expected, and the congregation fractured. Their efforts to reach out to the broken resulted in the pastor getting robbed, worship services being disrupted, and a sex offender in the congregation making parents with children uncomfortable. Inclusivity is not easy, and some who experienced that time remain gun-shy. This is understandable in its cultural context. We white Americans tend to have a limited tolerance for difference, especially when it causes significant discomfort. This congregation has tried harder than many others, even though it has not succeeded in the long term.
By cultural standards, the efforts of the congregation are above average, perhaps even commendable. Yet how can we be satisfied when challenged by the standard set in Luke-Acts? Jesus healed the enemies of his people (Lk 7:2ff), ate with collaborators (Lk 5:30), let a sinful woman anoint his feet (Lk 7:36ff), and ministered to outcasts (Lk 8:26ff, 17:10ff). He dismissed the wise (Lk 10:21,18:9ff) and chastised those who were not ready to give their full commitment(Lk 9:62). His followers ministered to the needy even at the risk of their health (Acts 4:21, 5:18, 5:40) and life (Acts 12:2). Is this a standard we could possibly be expected to follow?
Beneath this question lies another, far more important: Do we believe that the Gospel is true? Is it Truth, or is it myth that, rather than informing us,defines us? If it is truth, then all that Jesus asks of us is binding. If myth,what are we doing here in church, in seminary, in ministry?
Perhaps the post-Enlightenment, scientific, materialistic, consumerist worldview of post-modern America has made us skeptical of prophecy made and fulfilled, sickness healed with a word or touch, unclean spirits, dead people raised, and a Savior who gained victory through death. The Holy Spirit Luke emphasizes sounds pretty chaotic. Whatif the Holy Spirit calls me to the wilderness (Acts 8:26), to foreign lands (Acts 16:9), to die (Acts 7:55), or, perhaps even more horrible, to give up all my possessions (Lk 18:22, Acts 4:31-32)?
Or perhaps we are, rather, threatened by the raising and leveling Luke promises. Though we don’t like to know what the world looks like outside our walls, neighborhoods, and nation, we’ve glimpsed the images on television or the internet. Perhaps we sense that we are the metaphorical Pharisees, and Jesus’ Kingdom threatens to take the comfort we’ve “earned” through the accident of birth. We do, after all, live ina nation that consumes the second-most energy (after China), burning 17% of the world’s energy despite having only 4% of the world’s population.  We produce the second-most food (behind China) and eat the second most calories per person (behind Austria). We have the highest obesity rates of any industrialized nation, and waste more food per person than any other country.  We have more cars per person than any other major nation (3rd behind San Marino and Monaco). Materially, Luke’s leveling could devastate our privileged position.
Yet despite our conspicuous material wealth, we are not a happy nation. “Deaths of despair” are causing life expectancy to drop. Joshua Cohen cites 196,000 American deaths from alcoholism, overdose, and suicide in 2016 (compared with about 11,000 gun-related homicides). We lead industrialized nations in drug overdose deaths.
Perhaps that which we have to lose is not that which is most important. Certainly that is the message Luke’s Jesus offers. Wealth (Lk 18:18ff, 12:13ff), power (Lk 18:1), status (Lk 10:25, 11:42),and even individual eternal life (Lk 10:21, 25) are challenged in favor of a simple vision of equity and peace, now and in the hereafter.
Why do we seem to find that so threatening? John Stuart Mill wrote, “Men [sic] do not desire merely to be rich, but to be richer than other men…” He argued that, while certain restrictions on humankind’s desires are required, moral development ultimately would allow humankind more freedom.  What Jesus challenges is not merely our own individual actions, not the structures that seek to restrain our desires, but the very character of humankind. 
Do we dare risk having our character changed? Do we dare risk having our hearts and minds renewed (Eph 4:23)? Do we dare risk embracing the Holy Spirit, having our children prophesy, and inviting society’s outcasts to sit at our table in fellowship and equity?
In my own case, the answer is, “Sometimes.” I want my children to go to good schools, and my family to have access to the best medical care possible. Ironically, I accept the healings, miracles, and even the Kingdom as literal; it is Jesus’ command to “Do not worry” (Lk 12:22) that I find most myth-like.
On an ideal Sunday, I worship God, celebrate Christ, and embrace the Holy Spirit. What will it take for me to carry the Gospel with me as I encounter a broken world on Monday, and to do so like I truly believe it?
 Julie K. Brown, “To longtime friend, school shooter Nikolas Cruz was lonely, volatile, ostracized,” Miami Herald, February 17, 2018, (http://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/community/broward/article200754714.html, accessed November 15, 2018).
 The first school shooting as we now define it occurred in 1974, but if it got much publicity, I wasn’t aware of it.
 Böckler, Nils; Seeger, Thorsten; Sitzer, Peter; Heitmeyer, Wilhelm (2013). School Shootings: International Research, Case Studies, and Concepts for Prevention (1st ed.).Springer Science+Business Media. ISBN 978-1-461-45526-4. Cited on Wikipedia, “Cleveland Elementary School Shooting” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cleveland_Elementary_School_shooting_(San_Diego)#CITEREFB%C3%B6cklerSeegerSitzerHeitmeyer2013, accessed November 15, 2018).
 “School Sniper Suspect Bragged of ‘Doing Something Big to Get On TV’,” Evening Independent (AP), January 30, 1979, 2A (https://news.google.com/newspapers?id=r8EwAAAAIBAJ&pg=6676,3418018, accessed November 15, 2018).
 “Top 20 countries in primary energy consumption 2017,” Statista.com (https://www.statista.com/statistics/263455/primary-energy-consumption-of-selected-countries/, accessed November 18, 2018); “What is the United States’ share of world energy consumption?” EIA.gov (https://www.eia.gov/tools/faqs/faq.php?id=87&t=1, accessed November 18, 2018); “Countries in the world by population (2018),” Worldometers (http://www.worldometers.info/world-population/population-by-country/, accessed November 18, 2018).
 “10 world’s leading food producing countries,” Mediamax, (http://www.mediamaxnetwork.co.ke/261583/261583/, accessed November 18, 2018); “Food Consumption by Country,” World Atlas (https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/which-country-eats-the-most.html, accessed November 18, 2018); “Global Obesity Levels,” ProCon.org (https://obesity.procon.org/view.resource.php?resourceID=006032, accessed November 18, 2018).
 “Motor Vehicles per 1,000people: Countries compared,” Nationmaster (https://www.nationmaster.com/country-info/stats/Transport/Road/Motor-vehicles-per-1000-people, accessed November 18, 2018).
 Joshua Cohen, “’Deaths of Despair’ Contribute to Declining U.S. Life Expectancy,” Forbes, Jul 19, 2018 (https://www.forbes.com/sites/joshuacohen/2018/07/19/diseases-of-despair-contribute-to-declining-u-s-life-expectancy/#513a22be656b, accessed November 18, 2018); Maya Rhodan, “Gun related deaths in America keep going up,” Time, Nov 6, 2017, (note that the title is misleading; the article states that rates have begun to go up after a long period of stability; http://time.com/5011599/gun-deaths-rate-america-cdc-data/, accessed November 18, 2018); Y. Chen et al, cited in “US leads developed nations in drug overdose deaths,” Healio, Nov 12, 2018 (https://www.healio.com/internal-medicine/addiction/news/online/%7B95b75228-d6be-4e72-bb3d-e1a3a17cedcb%7D/us-leads-developed-nations-in-drug-overdose-deaths, accessed November 18, 2018).
 John Stuart Mill (attributed), “On Social Freedom: Or: the Necessary Limits of Individual Freedom arising out of the Conditions of our Social Life,” c. 1873 (https://liberologi.wordpress.com/2011/10/01/on-social-freedom-by-john-stuart-mill/, accessed November 18, 2018). In context, he clearly included women in this statement. But compare Mill’s claim with observations by Loewen that in African society, disparity of wealth is considered unnatural. Jacob A. Loewen, “Demon Possession and Exorcism in Africa, in the New Testament Context, and in North America: Or, Toward a Western Scientific Model of Demon Possession and Exorcism,” in Willard M. Swartley, ed., Essays on Spiritual Bondage and Deliverance, Occasional Papers 11, Elkhart, IN: Institute of Mennonite Studies, 1988, 127-133. Thus, Mill’s statement does not apply to humankind universally.
 Loewen (135) goes so far as to describe American Christianity as “schizophrenic” in its embracing of actions and perspectives that do not conform to its professed worldview.
Let me start with a disclaimer: I’m not a conservative. In fact, I sympathize with many of the goals of modern American liberals. But there’s a problem. It’s not the social goals, though I do disagree with some of them. Nor is it the candidates they run, though some of them are abominable. No, it’s something far deeper, and something that few people, left or right, seem to recognize.
In his book The Next Evangelicalism, Soong-Chan Rah refers to primary and secondary cultures. Primary culture is that group with whom we have direct, personal relationships. It’s the people we look in the eye, the family, extended family, and community we trust because we know them.
Secondary culture, in contrast, relies on systems and structures. It is the roads we drive on, and the market we shop at where we don’t know any of the employees. It’s the schools we send our kids to, trusting in a system rather than in the people, whom we don’t have time to know, and it’s FaceBook, where we accumulate “friends” we have never met, and with whom we share a carefully-edited version of ourselves that portrays us in our best light. They’ll never know any different because they don’t know really us.
What does this mean for how we live? Rah describes the impact of primary and secondary culture on our childcare:
Formalized child care in a primary cultural system doesn’t exist. Children are allowed to play out in the village because extended family liver nearby and they would ensure that our children would be safe. They know and trust all of their neighbors, who are likely related to them… In a secondary cultural system, we cannot trust our neighbor to not harm our kids, much less look out and care for them. Child care is obtained through agencies found in the Yellow Pages or a nanny webpage. We trust our most precious gift into the hands of total strangers who have received a seal of approval from other total strangers. (p. 101)
If you live in a city, perhaps you can’t even imagine a primary cultural system. It sounds like a fantasy. It can’t really exist, right?
Wrong. I grew up in a primary cultural system. My mom knew she could rely on our neighbors to keep me safe, just as she would keep their kids safe. Later, I spent 12 years in rural Utah, where it was much the same. We never locked our doors. We left our keys in the car. Some folks left their car running when they went into the post office or grocery store. Our neighbors wouldn’t care if we went into their house for an egg or a cup of flour, even if they weren’t home.
Life was very different during my 25 years in Los Angeles. I didn’t know my neighbors, and I locked my home and my car. I didn’t trust people I didn’t know, which was most of the 10 million people living in the L.A. basin. My safety and security were provided not by relationships, but by structures: locks, police, rules, and routines. Those friends I did have I chose because of shared interests and culture, not geography. There was really no sense of community, and what I thought was community was artificial.
Think about that when we talk about gun control. Many of those who favor it live in fear, because they don’t have much if any primary cultural system. Many who oppose it think it’s ridiculous because the chances of their neighbor shooting them are pretty slim. Both are true– in their cultural context. The fallacy is that one answer can apply to both situations. (That’s a liberal idea, too, though today’s conservatives have jumped on the bandwagon.)
Think about the food you eat today. How much of it was grown by someone you know? How much of it was prepared by someone you know? If you’re a typical city dweller, chances are, not much. That may also be true if you live in a small town, though it’s easier there to eat more food that was grown locally by someone you know simply because there are more farmers. Most of us rely instead on faceless systems and inspectors to ensure there’s no nasty bacteria on our lettuce. And, as we learned again recently, that’s not always reliable.
Why does it matter? Because relationships build trust. Without relationships, we can’t have much trust in our lives. That’s sad. It’s also not good for us. We begin to see systems as more important than people. Perhaps you’re familiar with Bob Seeger’s lament, “I Feel Like a Number.” Elevating systems over people is dehumanizing. If you have any doubt, try conducting a transaction at the DMV in Santa Monica or calling the California Franchise Tax Board.
When liberals call for racial equality, I see that as a good thing. But trying to do it solely through systems is a faulty approach. We are (all of us) human beings, not cogs in a machine. Tuning the machine cannot fix the very real human problems we face. I wonder how many of my white liberal friends who support racial equality would actually make friends with someone of another race, eat together, and have their kids play together regularly? If not, that’s not racial equality. (Remember “Separate but equal“? The Supreme Court declared it wasn’t equal at all!)
So let’s apply this to another problem everyone recognizes: school shootings. The liberal answer is gun control. If they didn’t have access to guns, they wouldn’t shoot anyone, right? Let’s assume for a moment that gun control could work. Heroin control isn’t working, but maybe gun control will. So Nikolas Cruz can’t get a gun, and that’s the answer to the problem. This autistic kid was bullied his whole school career, had just lost his only surviving parent, and had dropped through the cracks in the system. But the liberal answer says it’s not his suffering that’s the problem, it’s the gun he uses to lash out.
It’s not systems that keep us healthy, safe, and included. It’s people.
Certainly there’s a role for systems. We can’t live without them. But putting our emphasis on systems over people dehumanizes us just as much as it dehumanizes everyone else. As Rah says, God created us in community, in relationship (81, ref. Genesis 1:28). Without relationships, we are less than human.
Stephen Cottrell writes,
“If what you’re doing is worthwhile, if you are persevering to the best of your ability, if the vision that inspires you is worth the investment of your work, your gifts, your energy, your soul, then don’t make success into a god… Do not be deterred by failure.”
These are wise words in a culture that worships success, money, and power!
(Stephen Cottrell, Hit the Ground Kneeling: Seeing Leadership Differently, London: Church House, 2008, 77-78.)
Let all who live in the land tremble,
for the day of the Lord is coming.
It is close at hand—
a day of darkness and gloom,
a day of clouds and blackness.
Like dawn spreading across the mountains
a large and mighty army comes,
such as never was in ancient times
nor ever will be in ages to come.
Before them fire devours,
behind them a flame blazes.
Before them the land is like the garden of Eden,
behind them, a desert waste—
nothing escapes them. (Joel 2:1a-3)
I had a vision yesterday. First, I saw a wave moving across the land, shaped like one of those tubular waves that surfers love. It was not made of water. It was made of locusts, and fire followed it. Then I saw fireworks in the sky, and the Lord said, “See, I am going to do a new thing.”
I will pour out my spirit on all flesh;
your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
your old men shall dream dreams,
and your young men shall see visions.
Even on the male and female slaves,
in those days, I will pour out my spirit.
I will show portents in the heavens and on the earth, blood and fire and columns of smoke. The sun shall be turned to darkness, and the moon to blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved; for in Mount Zion and in Jerusalem there shall be those who escape, as the Lord has said, and among the survivors shall be those whom the Lord calls. (Joel 2:28-32)
The first part has already happened at Pentecost. The Holy Spirit has been poured out, and that will not be undone. Prophesy and visions have returned to the people of the Lord. But the second part has not yet happened. We live in the times between the inauguration and the fulfillment.
So are my visions of locusts an indication that the end is upon us? Probably not. God still works in human history in the lives of nations and people.
It should be clear to all of us that we live in a nation that fails to live up to God’s commandments. We worship wealth (You shall worship no other Gods but me). We reward the accumulation of wealth (Ah, you who add field to field…). Our system seeks the lowest possible wages to make the products we use (Behold, the wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, are crying out against you, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts). We wear $200 jeans made by folks who make two dollars a day (The laborer is worthy of his wage). We use cell phones and laptops made with cobalt mined by children as young as 5 years old (Children are a heritage from the Lord). We blame the poor for being poor (Open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy). We burn the earth’s resources like there’s no tomorrow (For children are not obligated to save up for their parents, but parents for their children), and we think nothing of it (Your wrath has come, and the time for… destroying those who destroy the earth).
In past visions, God has told me that any parent, when words fail, will find other ways to discipline their wayward children. We are his wayward children. We have failed to heed his word. We have great potential to do good in the world, but we consistently fall short.
Bear fruit worthy of repentance. (Mt 3:8)
Where is our fruit? We export weapons. We resist helping refugees. We resist anything that infringes on our fossil fuel addiction.
Where is our fruit? Suicides are up 200%. Overdoses are up almost 300%. Mass shootings are up. Antidepressant use is up. Does this sound like a nation that takes joy in the Lord?
If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead. (James 2:15-17)
For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. (Ephesians 2:8-10)
Look at your way of life. How much has it changed since you professed your faith? Does your way of living cause others to look at you strangely? If not, maybe you should look again.
It’s never too late to change. One of the consistent patterns in God’s prophecy is this: warning, punishment, forgiveness, and redemption. The sooner we repent, the less punishment we receive.
When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil ways, God changed his mind about the calamity that he had said he would bring upon them; and he did not do it. (Jonah 3:10)
But those who are stubborn receive the full wrath of the Lord.
Now I will shortly pour out My wrath on you and spend My anger against you; judge you according to your ways and bring on you all your abominations. (Ezekiel 7:8)
We’re stubborn. We don’t even like to admit that we have sinned. So let us contemplate John’s words:
If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. (1 John 1:8-10)
Reflect. Confess. Repent.
It’s not too late.
You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. –Deuteronomy 6:5
“Idolatrously we turn our faith and hope toward the immanent powers of technology, medicine, economic security, powerful leaders, military might, and the global rule of our empire to bring about the new world we hope for.” (Douglas Harinck, 1 & 2 Peter, 136.)
I voted on Tuesday, mostly because I wanted to support a local candidate for state delegate who was an unusual choice: A Democrat with an actual platform that addressed concerns I think need to be addressed, including security, health insurance, and such. As a Christian, I don’t always vote. When presented with two really bad candidates for president, for example, I’m unwilling to compromise my values. Evil is still evil, regardless of the party it represents.
The line I’m not willing to cross is not always clear, however. For example, I was pleased to see that my state’s soon-to-be-former governor lost. For one thing, he supports the repeal of Roe v. Wade. As a Christian, I’m opposed to abortion. But as an American, I recognize that there is no consensus on when life begins, and I’m not willing to impose my beliefs on others. Christianity is a choice, not a requirement. I do wish that every woman who considered an abortion would hear the baby’s heartbeat before she made her decision. I wish that birth control was universally available and free. And I wish we had structures in place to facilitate the easy adoption of babies born to parents who can’t or won’t raise them. And yes, I wish that Christian values were more widely practiced. It’s a shame that many young women these days see their value primarily in being a sex object for men (and it’s hard to place the blame for that on women). But I can’t in good conscience impose my beliefs on those who haven’t chosen them where there is no societal norm to support it.
The election has once again focused my attention on the relationship between Christian and nation.
I remember an email I received back in 1998, before Facebook, when people sent their political rants as emails rather than memes. That particular email claimed that Muslims could not be American citizens because their primary allegiance was to Allah, not country. Even then, at a time when I was not Christian, I understood the irony of that claim: a Christian is likewise called to give his or her allegiance to God and only God.
How is it that we miss this? Perhaps it’s because when we proclaim Jesus as Lord, we don’t know what a Lord is. We don’t have lords anymore, so it may be a confusing term for us. Here’s what Google Dictionary says:
“Lord (n.): someone or something having power, authority, or influence; a master or ruler.”
In other words, a lord demands our allegiance. And the Bible itself tells us we cannot serve two masters (Mt 6:24).
Put another way, if I proclaim Jesus as my Lord and Savior, I cannot also pledge allegiance to a flag or a nation– not without lying to either one or the other.
The Bible also tells me to be subject to authority (Rom 13:1. 1 Pet 2:13). That, too, can be confusing. But consider the context. In Romans, Paul has just finished arguing for a radical Christian life of feeding the poor, blessing those who persecute us, and overcoming evil with good. Likewise Peter is about to argue that we should suffer injustice at the hands who have authority over us and persecute us despite (or because of) our doing good. Clearly “be subject” is not the same as “obey.” We are to live out our values as a community, accepting the price when our values conflict with those of the State.
Yet somehow the American Christian message often holds up our nation as the spearhead of Christianity, suggesting that allegiance to the nation is equivalent to allegiance to God. This is the nation that committed atrocities in King Phillip’s War, massacred the Pequots, and used biological warfare in Pontiac’s War. It’s the nation that stands alone in having used nuclear weapons against people (and those people were civilians, not soldiers). It’s a nation that has squelched democracy in Central and South America, Iran, and many other countries. And it’s a nation that, when attacked, invaded a country that had nothing to do with that attack, beginning a war that continues to this day.
Who would Jesus bomb?
Don’t get me wrong: I know that no nation is perfect. My ancestors formed and founded this country, and I’m (mostly) proud of what they did. There’s a lot of good here, too. But to equate the United States with God… well, it makes God come up a little short. Our nation is not the ideal representative. And no other country is, either.
As a Christian, I am called to follow Christ–to the Cross if necessary. I am called to live as he lived, do what he did, and teach as he taught, regardless of what my nation’s leaders say or do, and even if they do it to me. God’s grace makes this possible. And God’s grace demands a response from me. The New Covenant, like the old, has two parties.
Yes, Paul writes,
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast (Eph 2:8-9).
Yet his next words are:
“For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (Eph 2:10).
Jesus, for his part, says,
“Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father” (Jn 14:12).
Paul tells us that the nations are part of the problem, and ranks them with evil spirits as our enemies:
“For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph 6:12).
Why? Because even in a democracy like ours, those with power seek more power. Power corrupts. By definition, our leaders are corrupted. As Christians, we seek not the ideal earthly government, but nothing less than the Kingdom of God with Jesus as its ruler.
How do we somehow think it’s enough to profess, and to live the way everyone else does? How do we ignore Jesus’ instructions to love one another, to love our enemies, to feed the poor, and to give our last copper coin? How do we put our faith in armies and police forces, in walls and in guns, and not in the saving grace of God through Jesus Christ?
It’s true that following Jesus is not easy. Neither he nor any other New Testament writer said it would be. I fall short. I’m sure almost everyone does.
But to put our allegiance in the nation rather than in Jesus is nothing short of idolatry, one of the worst sins the Bible recognizes. The prophets condemn it (e.g. Hos 2:2, 16-17). Paul identifies it as the source of all debasement (Rom 1:24-25, 28).
Let me be blunt: to be a “patriotic American” is to be an idol worshiper. Yes, I’ll vote in an election when moved to do so. I want what’s best for the people of America. I’m a Christian, how could I not? But my allegiance is not to this nation or to any other. It’s to a Kingdom that has been established here on earth, but has not yet been fulfilled.