Month: September 2019

‘You are the light of the world, like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden.‘ Matthew 5:14 (NLT)

A number of years ago I saw a movie about life in South Africa. I can’t remember which movie, but I will never forget one scene. In a time of national upheaval, a white pastor took to his pulpit and spoke against apartheid. The result was predictable. Most of his white congregation walked out. The scene is a classic example of why many pastors feel the need to steer clear of political or social issues, no matter how compelling they may be. From time immemorial, pastors have received such advice. In South Africa. In antebellum America. During the Civil Rights movement. In Nazi Germany. The affairs of state belong to the state. Pastors need to ‘stay in their lane.’ ‘The Gospel,’ they say, ‘has nothing to do with politics.’

There is only one problem with that line of reasoning: the Gospel has everything to do with politics. The Gospel is, by its very nature, political.

Let me explain.

Let’s begin with a simple question: what is the Gospel? Many Christians call it the Good News of Salvation through Jesus Christ, and they are of course right. But those who define it as such often limit ‘salvation’ to what happens after death. The Gospel, for many Christians, is the Good News that, because of Jesus, you get to go to heaven when you die. But even the most cursory reading of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John (aka the Gospels), reveals that Jesus’ Gospel is concerned with far more than one’s eternal destination. Jesus’ Gospel is deeply invested, for example, in providing assistance to the poor, caring for the sick, welcoming the stranger, extending hospitality to the marginalized and oppressed, and generally speaking, standing up for justice and fairness in their absence. All of this is included in Jesus’ salvation message. Jesus is concerned for this world, not just the one that is to come.

The problem, therefore, in defining the ‘Gospel as the Good News of Salvation…’ is that in many Christian circles, the concept of salvation has been effectively removed from the present concerns of the world. Which is why many, including myself, define the Gospel the way Jesus did, as the Good News of the Kingdom of God (Mark 1:14-15). Defining the Gospel this way is both Biblical and clarifying, but in order to understand the clarification, we need to ask a second question: ‘what is the Kingdom of God?’

Well, this is where I have to warn you, the answer to that one will take a while (sorry, this isn’t a short post). We start with the word, kingdom. Most of the time, when the Bible speaks of a kingdom, it speaks of a political empire – a world power that seeks to dominate and control others. The Bible does not speak highly of such powers. In Daniel 7, just prior to announcing the eventual coming of God’s Kingdom, it describes the prevailing political empires as beasts – monstrous, frightening things that destroy and devour everything in their wake. Throughout the Bible, Babylon, one of Daniel’s four beasts, becomes the quintessential embodiment of political empire. In Revelation, empire (specifically Rome, but symbolically future powers as well) is not only pegged with the ‘beast’ moniker, but also the name, ‘whore of Babylon’ (Revelation 17-18). That’s what the Bible thinks of the world’s empires. It calls them beasts and whores. Satan even claims to have authority over all of them (Luke 4:6). And seriously, who can doubt it?

But there is another way the Bible uses the word ‘kingdom,’ and that is with the phrase, the Kingdom of God. This phrase refers to the kingly reign of God on earth through the life and witness of people who follow God’s Messiah. This Kingdom is very different. It is no devouring beast. It does not seek domination and control. Instead, it follows the way of Calvary Love. It seeks to serve, not to be served. It doesn’t have a power center, a nation, or a capitol. It is a multinational community of people from every nation, tribe, and tongue who follow the path of Jesus. One might wonder whether it should be called a kingdom at all, but God has chosen to do so in order to explicitly set His Reign and Rule over and against the kingdoms of the world. His is the one Kingdom that shall outlast all others (Daniel 7:14).

So what does God’s Kingdom do? How does it manifest itself? How does it exist in the sea of political empire? Simple. Its citizens stand at the crossroads of whatever empire they find themselves in and live out an alternative set of values. And as they do, they by their very existence show the world another way. By living according to the principle of love as opposed to domination, they continuously critique and shame the powers of the world (See, Colossians 2:15). The Kingdom of God, by its very existence, is a prophetic critique of political power, an alternative polis (Greek for city) juxtaposed against the polis of empire. It is a polis on a hill, rising above the kingdoms of the world, shining light for all to see, continuously proclaiming, loudly and clearly, that the ways and methods of empire are wrong, and the ways and methods of Jesus are right.

So, when Jesus announced the Good News (Gospel) of the Kingdom, he was announcing that this alternative polis had come. He was calling people to repent, not just of their personal sins, but of their participation in the ways and methods of empire. The very language Jesus used, kingdom language, was political in nature. Jesus had thrown down the gauntlet before the empires of the world, declaring that a new polis, a new Kingdom, had come. This, by the way, was what made Jesus so threatening to the powers that be. There was a reason why he was ultimately crucified as an enemy of the Roman State. He had been encouraging people to join a movement that proclaimed, loudly and clearly, that Jesus was Lord, and Caesar was not; that the way of empire was wrong, and the way of God’s Kingdom was right.

It is to this alternative kingdom, the Kingdom of God, that the followers of Jesus belong. His followers are therefore citizens of this alternative society, and must live as such. To do so is perilous. It puts us on a collision course with the way of empire. Why? Because, if I may paraphrase Stephen Mattson, sometimes to be a good citizen of God’s Kingdom, you have to be a bad citizen of the empire you live in. Whenever there is a clash of Kingdom values, the call of the Jesus follower is to obey the values of God’s Kingdom over the world’s (Acts 5:29). We must live and act in accordance with the values of Jesus’ Kingdom at all times, shunning the way of domination, control, and violence. Those who follow the way of empire don’t like this.

What this does NOT mean, is that followers of Jesus must withdraw from the world. Jesus did not. Nor did the early church. No, the call of Jesus is to go into the world and proclaim the Kingdom. We do this by our actions, standing at the crossroads of culture and showing the world another way. And we do so with our words. Like the prophets of old, we speak truth to power, pointing away from what is wrong and pointing toward what is right. This always gets messy. But citizens of the Kingdom must speak the truth. Indeed, if we do not speak it, how will anyone ever find their way into the Kingdom? (See, Romans 10:14).

This is how the Gospel is political. Not in the sense that citizens of God’s Kingdom should ever enmesh themselves in the power politics of the world. Indeed, that is precisely what we must avoid – becoming entangled in the affairs and ways of the world make it impossible for us to follow Jesus (2 Timothy 2:4). And not in the sense that we ever align ourselves with governments, politicians, or political parties. But in the sense that we, by our lifestyle, actions, and words prophetically critique the powers of the world. We are to embody a new way of being human, and to challenge the old way at every turn. Yes, we must do so with gentleness and love. But do it we must. Such ‘political action’ is essential to the integrity of the Gospel. Indeed, a gospel that fails to take part in such action is, to borrow Paul’s famous phrase, ‘no gospel at all’ (Galatians 1:7).

And so, that South African pastor was right. When citizens of Jesus’ polis on a hill see the empires behaving as empires do, it is incumbent upon them to both live differently and speak out against what is happening. For example:

When the empire preaches hate – we preach love.

When the empire says war – we say peace.

When the empire acts with cruelty – we promote mercy.

When the empire stirs up fear – we summon up courage.

When the empire preaches exclusion – we preach acceptance.

When the empire builds walls – we build bridges.

When the empire says life is disposable – we say life is sacred.

When the empire protects the interests of the rich – we intercede on behalf of the poor.

When the empire asks us to give allegiance to idols – we give ours to Christ alone.

And, just to put a fine point on it, I think I will add a few things about our empire’s current ‘Emperor.’

When the emperor tears children from the arms of their parents – we say families belong together.

When the emperor puts children in cages – we say set them free.

When the emperor disparages and endangers black and brown lives – we say they matter.

When the emperor demeans women – we stand up for our sisters.

When the emperor says anything, or proposes any policy, that is contrary to the compassionate, loving way of Jesus, the King of our Kingdom, we oppose it, and point people in the direction of another way.

Basically, when the emperor has no clothes – we say so.

That’s what Kingdom citizens do. It’s sure as heck fire what I intend to do. And when the empire and those who follow it complain that I’m getting too political, that I need to ‘stay in my lane’ and be quiet, I’ll just remind them:

The Gospel is political.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

‘That is why I tell you not to worry…Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?‘

– Matthew 6:26 NLT

Today I have been housebound. My wife has jury duty (ugh!), and I am home with the kids (we homeschool). It’s a day off for the kids, but I’ve been trying to get a few things done. Sitting on the front porch with my laptop, my mind drifted back about ten years to an adventure I had on another work at home sort of day. And since this is turning out to be a slow day, I figured I would write about it. I hope it encourages you.

It was a nice day, and I was working at a table beside the sliding glass doors that overlooked our back yard when my dog bolted upright and began barking like crazy. I figured it was a squirrel rummaging through the garbage, but when I looked, I saw instead a baby blue jay. More accurately, a blue jay on the verge of adolescence. It had feathers, but its size and coloring suggested it was too young to be sitting in the shadow of my trash. Obviously, I concluded, the poor little guy had fallen from his nest and needed assistance – and I was just the guy to provide it (I could almost hear the Mighty Mouse theme: ‘here I come to save the day!’). I dialed several bird rescue agencies until I finally connected with a real person. ‘Success,’ I inwardly shouted, only to be put on hold. I hate being put on hold.

With nothing to do but listen to the agency’s cued up New Age music, I decided to use my time productively. It was warm outside, and so I figured the little guy needed a drink. Awkwardly, I cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear, filled a little bowl with water and headed out to play hero. I put the bowl in front of him, but misunderstanding my good intentions, he flapped his fledgling wings, ascended to a mighty altitude of two inches, and fluttered a mere two feet away. He looked at me as if I was out of my mind. Frustrated but undaunted, I went back inside to regroup. ‘Birdseed!’ I thought, ‘That’s the ticket! What bird can resist birdseed?’ Alas, the cupboard was bare of birdseed. But such was my desire to be the Saint Francis of my time that I crumbled some crackers on a plate, called it birdseed, and made a second effort, this time with a fool proof plan. I would corral him so he could not get away, and then make nice with the crackers. There was no way I could fail! The bird would be so happy with me that he would spend the rest of his days singing outside my bedroom window.

There was just one thing I didn’t consider: baby blue jays have mothers.

She didn’t appreciate my noble effort at all. No sir-ee Bob. Oblivious to her presence or even existence, I made my way toward her baby, when – ZOOM – she came out of nowhere, a soaring blue blaze determined to destroy me, sent from the heavens above, careening at the last second just inches above my head. She made a racket that would have frightened Bear Grylls and had a ten foot wing span (OK, maybe not Bear Grylls, and maybe she was smaller than that, but hey, I’m trying to preserve my dignity here). I ran back to the shelter of the house, cracker crumbs trailing behind me, the stink of failure all over me, shouting all sorts of things like – well, this is a faith blog so let’s leave it there. All the while desperately endeavoring to keep the phone in its precarious place betwixt my neck and shoulder (which at least provided theme music for the event – life should always have theme music, don’t you think?).

It was in the midst of this donnybrook of man verses bird that I heard an understandably perplexed and somewhat frightened voice: ‘This is [whoever the heck she was]. Can I help you?’

Embarrassed, I attempted to explain myself. This was difficult, what with Mama blue jay swooping back and forth over the patio and roaring like a pterodactyl. She was feeling pretty strong let me tell you. It was as if her activity was meant to serve a dual purpose: keep me away from her little one and let him know she was there. She succeeded on both fronts: no way was I going back out there, and her baby was looking up at her the whole while. Moments before he had been agitated by my presence (the lousy ingrate, jk), but now, he was the very picture of serenity.

I told the bird lady what had happened, and she snickered like she had too much water up her nose. I got the sense she could barely contain herself. I didn’t see what was so funny. But then she explained that my helpless blue jay had never been in trouble. A mother blue jay, it turns out, will literally kick her babies out of the nest. It’s how they learn to fly. The idea is to encourage them to stretch their wings in an attempt to come home. All the while, the baby birds are perfectly safe. As they struggle to use their wings, she sits nearby and watches, chirping every so often to let them know she’s still there. If any big scary animals come by (like me), then the little tykes get an extra lesson on how blue jays defend themselves. The woman on the phone explained that as long as Mom was around, there was nothing to worry about, and that if I wanted to see for myself why mama blue jays put their young through this, I should just sit back and watch.

So I did. And let me tell you, it’s a beautiful thing to see a baby bird learn to fly. He fluttered about like a bumble bee on steroids over to the shade of a pine tree, and then, with a mighty stretch of his wings (for a baby bird) flew branch by branch up to his mom and his nest, where he was as safe as safe could be. As Mom cleaned him up after his adventure, you could almost hear her say, ‘well done, son, well done.’

I have to tell you, I felt like an idiot. All that time, I thought that little bird must have been so worried. But he wasn’t worried at all (at least until I entered the picture!). He knew he was watched over, protected, and provided for. And as I thought of that, I really felt like an idiot. Because I suddenly thought of all the times when I have felt lost and vulnerable, alone and afraid, outside the ‘nest’ of safety, imagining all sorts of terrible things that might happen to me. When in fact, I am being watched over too. I too am guarded and guided. I too am being provided for. Indeed, it may well be that the reason I am in the situation in the first place is because I need to learn something that will enable me to stretch my wings and fly. Something to help me find my way home. Something that will enable me to become everything that the one who watches over me desires me to be.

You know the song, don’t you?

Let not your heart be troubled
His tender word I hear.
And resting on his goodness
I lose my doubts and fears
Tho by the path he leadeth
But one step I may see
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know he watches me
His eye is on the sparrow
And I know he watches me (Civilla D. Martin).

Jesus is right. We need to look to the birds. Both sparrows and blue jays. They have more sense than we do.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent