‘Just as the weeds are sorted out and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the world. The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will remove from his Kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil…Then the righteous will shine like the sun in their Father’s Kingdom.’
– Matthew 13:40-41; 43(a) NLT
‘We will shine like stars in the universe, holding out your truth in the darkest place. We’ll be living for your glory. Jesus, we’ll be living for your glory.’
– Matt Redman, from the song, ‘Shine’
Last Friday was Good Friday. I spent it with a wonderful group of Holy mischief makers at a service and demonstration in front of the headquarters of the world’s largest weapons manufacturer, Lockheed Martin. Together we worshipped, prayed, and remembered both the suffering of Jesus and the suffering of his children. We lamented the human cost of war, read aloud the names of children killed by the bombs and missiles manufactured by the merchants of death, and otherwise stood in solidarity, as Jesus had on the original Good Friday, with the victims of evil’s ongoing rampage against the life. Some folks even took the step of direct action against such evil, crossing the line onto Lockheed Martin’s corporate property, where they knelt and prayed while awaiting arrest. I’ve never had a more worshipful experience. One of the organizers, who had brought her children, commented, ‘I told my kids we could do one of two things today: we can go to church or we can be the church. They decided to be the church.’ That’s what being there with my brothers and sisters felt like for me as well. Next year, I hope to cross the line myself.
I am aware that not everyone sees this as I do. Many may become angry at the thought that I bore witness to such shenanigans. Others will scoff and dismiss such efforts as useless. ‘Why do that?’ they ask. ‘It doesn’t do any good. Neither you nor those who were arrested stopped any war. The bombs are still being made. Why waste your time at such an event? What possible good do things like this do?’
My response is two-fold.
First of all, I’m foolish enough to believe that such things do a lot of good. It certainly does me some good. Sometimes, as I watch the fires burning in the world, I feel alone and helpless. But when I participate in such things, I no longer feel that way. I become a part of something bigger than myself, something full of possibility. I also believe that it is important to witness to the fact that another world is possible. That things don’t have to be this way. Certainly for my own sanity, but also because I believe that in doing so, there is always the possibility that someone else might agree; that someone on the other side might even change their mind. It happens. For example, there have been protests at Lockheed Martin for years, and over those years, people have turned. Employees have repented. Lives have changed. Souls have been saved. There is a power to loving, nonviolent protest that has the capacity to win enemies to the truth. Just ask the Centurion who stood guard at the Cross on Good Friday (Mark 15:39). Sometimes, nonviolent, loving protest can even change the world.
But secondly, I admit that you sort of have a point. You’re right: Lockheed Martin did not stop manufacturing bombs that day. Indeed, decades worth of protests haven’t stopped them from doing so. They’re still inflicting harm. Still killing children. Still lining their pockets with the proceeds of weapon sales. The Trump Administration is still proposing an over 40% increase in military spending (much of which would go to Lockheed Martin), and even if they don’t get it, they will get at least a trillion dollars (think of that!). What if it goes on like this forever? What if it never changes? What possible good then did it do for those folks to get arrested, and what possible good will it do for me to consider risking arrest myself some day?
Well, I suppose if you live in the story of the powerful, then, aside from the things I mentioned above, it won’t do much good at all. If you choose to live in a history defined by the powerbrokers, the presidents, the prime ministers, the war makers, and the merchants of death – the history as written by empire – then yes, it probably won’t change things much. After all, even Jesus tells us that in the last days there will be wars and rumors of wars. So yes, I suppose, our protests and arrests won’t end war entirely. Even if they end one war, another will come along. ‘We didn’t start the fire, it’s been always burnin’ since the world’s been turnin’, and when we are gone it will go on and on and on and on….’ (so says Billy Joel). Such things will persist until Jesus comes again.
But I contend that it’s still worth bearing witness to another way. Because, you see, I choose not to live in the history of those folks. I choose to live in a different story. A never ending story.
In Revelation, we read about this tome called the Book of Life (see, e.g., Revelation 20 and 21). A lot of people think it’s nothing more than a list of names of those who believe in Jesus, but it’s so much more than that. It’s the book that reveals history from God’s perspective. And history, from God’s perspective, looks quite different from the perspective of the empire. The empire believes that it is writing history with its armies, guns, and bombs, with power plays and games without frontiers. But all the while, God is writing a different, better story. It is the story told through the lives of people at the fringes, the marginalized, those of no account. The wandering Arameans, the imprisoned prophets, the persecuted apostles, the martyred saints. It is the history in which conscientious objectors who refuse cooperation with empire, such as Franz Jaggerstatter, who refused to fight for Hitler for the sake of his faith in Christ, and die for it, are hailed as the true heroes and given places of honor. It is the history defined not by those who carry swords, but by those who take up the cross.
And in that book of history, on Good Friday 2026, there is an entry about a little band of holy mischief makers who worshipped together, who stood in solidarity with the suffering, who took a stand by kneeling and praying on the property of the warmongers, who bore witness, who pointed, even if few saw where they were pointing, to another future and another way. Some may have seen it, and perhaps, as a result, they too will one day find their names written in the Book of Life. And one day, for sure, their story, along with millions of other unsung stories, will be the only stories told in the universe. Theirs will be the songs that will be sung forever. The merchants of death will be gone, while the ‘righteous will shine like the sun in their Father’s Kingdom.’
What happened last Good Friday doesn’t matter? Oh my goodness, it matters more than you or I can imagine.
And so I say to you that today, you have a choice. You get to decide which history you would like to be a part of. The history that will be forgotten, that will come to an end, or God’s history that will never end, the history that is, in fact, determining the course of eternity even as we speak.
The power brokers will surely continue to laugh if you live on the right side of things. As you kneel and pray while the nations rage. As you bear witness to another world. But that’s okay. For one day, their laughing will be forever silent. One day they will know they were wrong. One day when they fall to their knees and hail Jesus as Lord, they will know that ours was the true history, that ours was the never ending story.
Under Christ’s Mercy,
Brent