Greetings from Exegol

We will be back in some form’ – Donald J. Trump, January 20, 2021

Well it’s been a disappointing month to be sure.  After so many millennia, we of the Sith Eternal really thought it was going to work this time.  Our man was in place and he was wreaking all sorts of galactic havoc.  He even created a Space Force!  We thought it would last forever.  Ugh.  The sight of all those smiling liberals on the Capitol steps (a mere two weeks after we almost had it for our own!) as an old man waxed about decency, unity, and kindness was revolting!  It was almost as infuriating as watching those dancing Ewoks so long ago in a galaxy far, far away…

But hey, that just reminds us that we’ve been here before.  This ain’t our first rodeo.  When the traitor Vader (weak and sentimental as he was, may his name be cursed forever!) threw Darth Sidious down that infernal shaft, it seemed to be over then too.  But we improvised.  We adapted.  We overcame (yes, we know we sound like Clint Eastwood in Heartbreak Ridge.  Didn’t you know he’s one of us?).  We took our Dark Lord’s body from the wreckage and brought it home to Exegol.  There, in the darkness of the Outer Rim, shielded from all eyes by the remains of Megafauna, we kept our Master alive, plotting and planning his return.  We spliced genes to find a suitable vessel for our Lord’s dark essence.  We raised the First Order from the ruins of the Empire and built a fleet of Xyston-class Star Destroyers worthy of his majesty.  Nothing was going to stop us!  Well, until Vader’s grandson (the weak and sentimental Ben Solo cursed be his name forever) decided to help Palpatine’s granddaughter (weak and sentimental as she was, cursed be her name forever too).  Oh it was terrible!  To come so close to victory only to be ruined by a girl and her bad boy crush!  

But as those of you who study history may have noticed, and in the words of Chubawumba, ‘we get knocked down, but we get up again, ‘cause you’re never gonna keep us down!’  In every age, in every era, we return anew.  We may be, for the moment, nursing our wounds at Mar-a-Lago (aka, New Exegol) but we will be back!  Even now, we are nursing our current Master, keeping him alive for his inevitable return, or at least until we find a suitable heir.  And when the time is right, we will unleash our fire!  We shall once again threaten all that is good and decent throughout the universe!  One day soon, my progressive do-gooder foes, we shall prevail!  You may have set us back, but not for long!  In the words of our immortal Emperor, ‘Do not fear that feeble attack, my faithful!  Nothing will stop the return of the Sith!’

Mwoohahahahaha! (i.e., evil Sidious-esque laugh). 

Yours truly,

The Sith Eternal

Editor’s Note: we’re not exactly sure how this deranged correspondence came to us, but we want our readers to be assured that no matter what happens in the time ahead, all shall be well.  Yes, the Sith Eternal, or whatever you want to call the dark principalities and powers of the unseen world that lay behind the evil deeds of men and women in our own, exist.  And yes, in every age they find men and women willing to do their bidding.  But know this brothers and sisters: the empires they spawn shall always fail.  The ‘Palpatines’ of the earth come and go, but the Kingdom of God endures forever.  Amen.

Stop Saying ‘Both Sides’

‘The truth shall set you free’ – Jesus

I don’t like binary choices.  I don’t see the world that way.  I’m neither a Republican nor a Democrat.  I try to remain dedicated to the principles of Jesus, and see problems with both political parties.   Neither represents the values of Jesus’ Kingdom.  Nor could they.  They are part of the American empire, not the Kingdom of God.  Their approach to changing the world  is ‘power over’ not ‘power under.’ They are followers of the way of the dragon, not the way of the Lamb.  

All that, as I’ve said before, is to say that although I find myself these days more in tune with those who lean blue I’m not altogether on the side of any political party.  I am however altogether on the side of truth.  And truth compels me to respond to those who are blaming the January 6th insurrection on both political parties.  I’ve heard it expressed in various ways and from various people, from shameless defenders of the President to modern day Neville Chamberlains who think they can somehow appease the deranged inciters and purveyors of violence (and those who sympathize with them) by assigning blame everywhere. ‘Really, both sides are guilty here.’  ‘There are bad actors on both sides.’ 

Let’s get some things straight.  

The Democrats did not spend months before the 2020 Presidential election lying to their voters by telling them that the other side was massively cheating and that they could only lose if the election was stolen. Donald Trump and his Republicans allies did that.  

The Democrats did not spend the two months following the election tweeting and rallying and promoting false conspiracy theories about how the election was stolen.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not dog whistle support for Q Anon conspiracy theories and predictions of a ‘storm’ that would take over the US government and lead to the execution of political enemies.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not empower and encourage white supremacists, call them good people, and encourage violence against people of color over the past four years.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not pressure state legislators and election officials to ‘find votes’ or refuse to certify state election results in an attempt to thwart the will of the people in those states.   Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not hold phony ‘hearings’ led by extremist members of their party to offer fake  ‘evidence’ of election fraud.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not invite thousands of Q anon conspiracy theorists and white supremacists to Washington DC on the day the Electoral College vote was to be certified.  Nor did they tell them to ‘be wild’ as they assembled.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not deliberately enflame said denizens of humanity by appearing before them and encouraging them to March on the Capitol building, nor did they call for ‘trial by combat’ or encourage them to ‘bring the storm’ on January 6, 2021.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not, once the Mob was cleared, press on in an attempt to steal the election by refusing to recognize state electors.  Nor did they make the preposterous claim that the riots had been led by ‘Antifa.’  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that. 

The Democrats did not encourage the use of confederate symbols, such as the flag waved inside the Capitol building, at any point during the past four years.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

The Democrats did not have 197 members of their party vote against impeaching an insurrectionist President.  Donald Trump’s Republican allies did that.  

In short, the Democrats did not do a single solitary thing to encourage or support a coup or insurrection.  Donald Trump and his Republican allies did that.  

To be sure, the Democrats are not perfect.  And as they take power in the days ahead they may very well act inconsistently with the teachings of Jesus, constitutional principle, and basic human decency.  Like I said, they are part of the empire and follow imperial ways, so it really won’t surprise me.  When they do such things, we can call them out for it.  

But make no mistake: what happened on January 6th was not the fault of ‘both sides.’   

That is the truth.  May it set you free. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Calling Out Quislings

‘A vile race of quislings – to use a new word which will carry the scorn of mankind down the centuries – is hired to fawn upon the conqueror, to collaborate in his designs, and to enforce his rule upon their fellow countrymen, while groveling low themselves’ – Winston Churchill, June 12, 1941

Let me be clear at the outset of this post that I believe in forgiveness and enemy love.  God commands these things, and believe it or not, they are powerful forces that can and do change the world.  But I also believe in justice and accountability.  God talks about them a lot too. 

This past week’s attack on the Capitol Building in Washington cries out for accountability and justice.  Make no mistake: this was a coordinated insurrection orchestrated by the President of the United States, who even as it unfolded, called Senators to convince them to heed the will of the mob and overturn a free and fair election.  That the President and perpetrators of the assault need to be held accountable should go without saying (though sadly, it needs to be these days). 

But accountability needs to go much further than the President and his Brownshirts (or should I say Redhats?).  Just as there were many fingers on the trigger that killed Jimmie Lee Jackson, there were many collaborators in the assault on the Capitol that killed five people, including a law enforcement officer.  What happened at the Capitol was the inevitable result of four years of fomented outrage, wholesale engagement with the politics of fear, hate, and division, and a collective refusal on the part of those who know better to simply stand and say, ‘enough.’ (It is actually in a deeper sense the inevitable result of hundreds of years of American History, but that’s a longer story for another time).

The insurrection was led by Republican members of Congress who, for four years, stood by in silence as children were put in cages.  As families were torn asunder.  As racism roared from the mouth of a white supremacist president.   As daily assaults against the institutions of democracy flowed from his twitter account.  As the President invited foreign interference in what was then the upcoming election, and as he spun false conspiracy theories about election fraud once he lost while simultaneously attempting election fraud himself.  As these and a parade of a thousand other horribles swept across the land, these members of Congress, almost to a man and woman, stood by and did nothing.  In fact, they defended it all.  And when given the opportunity to remove a would-be dictator from office before he could do further damage, failed to do so.  My goodness, even in the wake of the assault, 147 of these Congressman continued to press false conspiracy theories in an attempt to steal the election!  As for the rest, well, we can be thankful they finally decided to step back from the brink to some degree.  But even they have failed to own up to their part in this insurrection.  Shame on them.  Shame on them all. 

It was also led by members of the President’s own administration, who stood by and defended the President at every tweet, every provocative word, every assault on the fabric of society.  They stroked his ego, fueled his narcissism, and carried out his cruel and destructive orders.  They peddled lies about the election themselves and kindled the fires of rage.  In the wake of the attack, some have resigned.  Some have been silent.  None have stood up.  None have owned up.  Shame to them as well. 

It was led by the heroes of right-wing media.  Outlets like FOX News, Newsmax, and One America have knowingly reported lies as facts, all in the name of ratings and the dollars they bring.  And when the coup failed, their spin machines went into action.  ‘It’s the fault of the liberals.’  ‘It was really Antifa.’   Have they no shame?  Whether they do or not, shame on them all. 

And it was led by leaders of the white American Church.  White Evangelical leaders such as Franklin Graham, Jerry Falwell Jr., and Eric Metaxas, Christian Nationalists all, may as well have broken the barriers at the capitol themselves.  Such supposed followers of the Prince of Peace put down their crosses and took up their swords in defense of a man whose every utterance threatened lives and defied the teachings and way of Jesus.  And not just white Christian leaders.  White Christians in general are, tragically, among the most likely to believe the President’s lies.  The most likely to repeat them.  Heck, there were even some among the insurrectionists waving Jesus flags and crosses alongside Confederate banners.  Even now, many still stand beside the man who inspired an attack on Congress.  Shame, the deepest shame, be on them all.  It’s long past time we stopped calling these folks Christians. 

The above quote from Winston Churchill is a reference to the government of Vidkun Quisling, a Norwegian politician who betrayed his country in an attempt to gain power through a collaborative alliance with the Nazis in the 1930s.  He brought shame to his family name and nation and earned the legacy of a coward and a collaborator with evil.  Sadly, he was not the last of his kind by a long shot. 

Republican Senator Mitt Romney, a standout of virtue amidst the crisis of the Trump Presidency, spoke like Churchill the other day.  In the wake of the insurrection, he spoke in defense of democracy:

‘We gather today due to a selfish man’s injured pride and the outrage of his supporters whom he has deliberately misinformed for the past two months and stirred to action this very morning.  What happened here today was an insurrection, incited by the President of the United States.  Those who choose to continue to support this dangerous gambit by objecting to the results of a legitimate, democratic election will forever be seen complicit in an unprecedented attack against our democracy.  They will be remembered for their role in this shameful episode in American history.  That will be their legacy.’

Like I said at the outset, I am a big believer in forgiveness and enemy love.  But I’m also for justice and accountability.  We cannot sweep the actions of these scoundrels under the carpet.  We must call them to account.  We must pray and call for their repentance.  For there can be no moving forward, no peace, no reconciliation, no justice, and no hope for a better tomorrow otherwise. 

And so, until there is repentance, until there is accountability, let us remember who and what the collaborators are: a vile band of quislings complicit in an unprecedented and violent attempt to inaugurate an era of authoritarianism in America. 

For their sake, for the sake of the Church, and for the sake of our society, I pray for their transformation, and if it happens, I will gladly stand in line to embrace them.  But let us not pretend that things are fine before then.

The quislings must be held accountable. 

Under Christ’s Mercy

Brent

A Call to Prayer in a Time of Crisis

Today, the Capitol Building of the United States, a symbol of democracy and freedom all over the world, has been stormed.  Congress has been evacuated.  Prevented from performing its constitutional duty of counting the votes of the electoral college and affirming the will of the people as expressed in a fair and open election.  God only knows what happens next.  Who among us, just a few short years ago, would ever have imagined that such a thing could happen? 

As I preached on the Sunday after Christmas, followers of Jesus should not place their hope in the politics of the world.  They should stand for Kingdom values and live with Jesus, and no one else, as their king.  What is happening now has been helped along by many who have rejected such a stance.  Too many professing followers of Jesus have placed their hope in an imperial savior who cannot save, who has fed their grievances and stoked the fires of hate and fear.  What we are seeing now is the fruit of such complicity. 

Whatever side of the political divide you have been on to this point, I call upon all who claim the label Christian to put the politics of the world behind them in this moment and embrace the politics of Jesus by condemning those who would, by force or otherwise, attempt a takeover of a legitimately elected government.  This is not the way of Jesus.  It is the way of imperial madness.  It is the way that always leads to destruction and darkness. 

While as Christians we are not to entangle ourselves in the politics of the empire, we are to seek the welfare of the society in which we live.  To that end, I call upon each of us to work to restore peace to this troubled republic.  And I ask you to pray.  Pray for the safety of Capitol police and members of Congress.  Pray for peace.  Pray for sanity.  Pray for an end to the madness, hate, and fear that has for too long gripped this nation and led to this dark day.  And yes, pray as well for those who would destroy the very fabric of our society – that they will come to their senses before harm comes to anyone, them included.  Pray also for the Church across this nation, much of which has, tragically, accepted a devil’s bargain and sought power, power that has led to violence, the weakening of the Church’s witness, and untold trouble in the days to come.  Pray that she, that is we, will come together in a spirit of repentance and follow the way of the Lamb. 

Pray that somehow, in all of this, people everywhere will wake up and discover that the hope of this world is not found in the politics of empire, but in the politics of the Prince of Peace. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Missing Christmas

‘If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world’ – C.S. Lewis

Pandemic notwithstanding, I suppose it was a good Christmas.  I savored special moments with family, soaked myself in the Christmas story, and otherwise set my mind and heart on the true meaning of the season.  I did many of the things I love to do each year: I decorated the tree, set up and played with the trains, listened to Linus tell Luke’s story, played our family’s version of Elf on the shelf, watched and read A Christmas Carol. Our church celebrations were different but meaningful. Although there were some traditions we had to skip this year, I managed to check off all the important boxes.    All in all, I have nothing to complain about this Christmas. 

And so it was with a sense of discouragement that I found myself, the day after Christmas, feeling down.  I felt as if I had missed something.  This feeling first manifested itself in the realization that there were certain songs I hadn’t heard this year (I blamed this on Alexa; I have this awesome Christmas playlist, but when I tell her to shuffle the songs, she keeps playing the same dad gum songs over and over).  So I deliberately spent some time listening to the forgotten songs.  Oddly enough, this did nothing for my mood.  It felt too late, and I was overwhelmed with the sense that I had, once again, missed Christmas. 

I say once again because, truth be told, I feel this way every year.  Every December 26th, I get the post-Christmas blues.  Maybe it’s the letdown. At some point in November (Okay, October, I’m one of those people) I start to get excited about Christmas.  The season holds forth great promise, and I really try to fulfill it.  Some years I come close.  I get at least an epiphany or two.  Sometimes I get close enough to the story that it feels as if I can reach out and touch the face of God.  And sometimes, glory of glories, I’ve felt God reach out and touch me.  But then, somehow, on December 26th, it feels as if its over.  I’m not sure why I feel this way.  Christmas is never truly over.  But the realization that the official season has come and gone gets me every time. 

The ghosts of Christmas pasts inevitably play a role in the letdown.  I have this image of ‘the perfect Christmas’ in my mind, one that I supposedly experienced once upon a time.  The truth is that this ‘perfect Christmas’ is an amalgam, a highlight reel if you will, of my now 53 Christmas pasts.  All the best moods, moments, family times, and spiritual experiences rolled into one super memory of a marvelous Christmas. It’s a nice Christmas to remember, but it is of course pure fantasy.  I’ve never experienced a single Christmas that matches the collective one in my imagination.  No wonder I feel let down every year.  How can reality match the dream world?

I could chalk it all up to that then, this post-Christmas blues.  But as I forced Alexa to play those forgotten songs and pondered the feelings they inspired this past Saturday, I realized that there is more involved than the letdown.  I realized that this feeling of having missed Christmas is inevitable.  Indeed, it’s necessary.  Christmas is the story of God becoming man, the Starkindler born beneath the stars, the Almighty Maker of Heaven and Earth casting off his prerogatives and privileges that he might renew the whole of His Creation.  It is a story too vast for capture.  It is too grand and glorious for the likes of me, or any of us, to fully experience in a single year, or even in a lifetime of Christmases.  The collective fantasies of a 1000 Christmases couldn’t come close to apprehending the wonder and majesty of this story. 

And so, this year, after many December 26ths worth of missed Christmases, I’ve accepted something.  This feeling of Christmas missed is as it should be.  It serves a purpose.  I am not meant to feel satisfied at Christmas.  I am meant to feel empty.  I am meant to experience a deep sense of unfulfilled longing – an unfulfilled longing for another world. 

For one day, at the Final Advent, there will be another world.  It will come to me, or I to it, in one of two ways.  Either I will die and enter the world of God’s eternity, or Jesus will come during my lifetime and bring God’s eternity to me.  Then, and only then, will I be satisfied.  Then, and only then, will my elusive longings be sated.  Then, and only then, will I finally plumb the depths of Christmas and all that it means. 

Until then, well, I guess I will experience this missing of Christmas every December 26th for the rest of my life.  And that is fine with me, for it will keep me longing for the day when it will finally be, and truly feel like, Christmas forever. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

The Voice of the True King

The following Christmas message is excerpted and adapted from my book, Royal Mistakes: Life Lessons from Some Seriously Messed Up Judean Kings.

‘The people refused to listen to Samuel’s warning.  ‘Even so, we still want a king,’ they said.  ‘We want to be like the nations around us.  Our king will judge us and lead us into battle.’  So Samuel repeated what the people had said, and the Lord replied, ‘Do as they say, and give them a king.’ – 1 Samuel 8:19-22(a)

Back in the days before Rehoboam, before Solomon, David or even Saul, Israel was one nation under one King, and that King was God.  God appointed Judges to lead and impart guidance to the people, but these men and women were not monarchs in their own right.  They were merely representatives, ambassadors if you will, of the One True King.  God was Israel’s King.  It was as simple as that. 

At least it was supposed to be.  The people, fallen and fickle as they were, tended to forget who their king was.  Whenever they did, it got them into trouble.  The Book of Judges tells of the trouble they got themselves into in those days.  The people would forget who their king was, turn their back on him, worship idols and wind up conquered by their enemies.   Then they would cry out to God for help and God would send a Judge to help them. The people would then turn back to God for a while, but before long they would forget him again, and the whole cycle would repeat itself.  You know, lather, rinse, repeat.  It was a troubling time in which to live.  The final verse of Judges sums up the problem: ‘In those days Israel had no king; all the people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes’ (Judges 21:25). 

Now you must understand, Israel did have a king.  God was the King.  Israel just had a hard time following a king they could not see.  What they lacked, they figured, was an earthly king, someone they could see, someone who would stand tall and strong and mighty at the head of a great army carrying a sword and shield, someone who would wave a flag and rally the troops, someone who would make them great like the nations that surrounded them.  True enough, God had gone before them once in a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night (See, Exodus 13:21).  But that had been a long time ago.  And truer still, God still went before them in battle through the means of the Ark of the Covenant.  But doggone it, it just wasn’t the same thing.   What they needed was a true king!

And so, on a day that would live in infamy, the people of Israel approached the man God had chosen to be the current Judge of Israel, Samuel.  ‘Look,’ they said, ‘we want you to give us a king like the ones in all the other nations’ (See, 1 Samuel 8:5).  They felt that if they only had that, all their problems (you know, the problems they had because they refused to acknowledge God as their One True King) would be solved.  All they needed was a tangible, earthly king.  One they could see.  One they could hear.  All they needed was to hear the voice of this true king, and everything would be wonderful. 

Samuel was heartbroken.  He immediately turned to God, whom Samuel at least acknowledged as King, and asked what he should do.  God told him to go ahead and grant the request. 

‘Do everything they say to you,’ the Lord replied, ‘for they are rejecting me, not you.  They don’t want me to be their king any longer…Do as they ask, but solemnly warn them about the way a king will reign over them.’ (1 Samuel 8:7-9). 

Samuel warned the people.  He told them that if they had a king like the nations, he would take their sons off to war, turn them into slaves, confiscate their property, tax them to death and otherwise make life miserable for them (sound familiar?).  ‘If you put your trust in a human king rather than God,’ Samuel told them, ‘you will live to regret it.’  (See, 1 Samuel 8:10-18). 

But the people would not be dissuaded.  ‘Yeah, yeah, we still want a king.  We want to be like the nations around us.  We want a king who will lead us into battle.  We want a king we can see and hear.’  And so Samuel checked with God again, and God again told him to go ahead and give them their ‘ideal’ king. 

The First King of Israel

Samuel did as instructed.  He found a king for Israel.  His name was Saul, and at first glance, he seemed perfect for the job.  He had the bearing of king. Tall and handsome, he stood head and shoulders above every other man in Israel (1 Samuel 9:2).  He hailed from a wealthy and influential family (1 Samuel 9:1).  He was skilled in battle.  Early in his reign, he led Israel to many victories.  But for all that, there were problems. 

For one thing he was a bit of a fraidy-cat.  On the day Samuel went to anoint him King of Israel, he hid behind a pile of luggage (1 Samuel 10:22).  And then there was his behavior during the whole David and Goliath thing.  Goliath, the Philistine champion, taunted Israel’s army for forty days, challenging them to send out the best man to fight.  That man, of course, was Saul.  But Saul never went, ultimately leaving the task of felling the giant to a shepherd boy who may have been no more than ten years old (See, 1 Samuel 17). 

Saul was also a jealous man.  As the years rolled by, and the young shepherd boy David grew to be a man, he led Israel’s armies in battle with great distinction, winning many battles over Israel’s enemies.  But as the people began to sing David’s praises, Saul became jealous (1 Samuel 18:7-9).  In fact, before long he became a paranoid, homicidal lunatic, hurling spears at David and chasing him all over the wilderness in an attempt to kill him (See, 1 Samuel 19-26).  When all was said and done, God was so disgusted with Saul that he stripped him of his kingdom.  Saul himself met with a dreadful end, falling on his own sword in battle (1 Samuel 31:4).  It turned out that Saul had not been the king Israel had been looking for.  His voice was not the voice of the True King. 

Israel’s ‘Best’ King

So Israel moved on to David, who was a much better leader.  David was no coward.  He was strong and courageous.  He was a Warrior-Poet, a man from whose heart sprang forth the beautiful songs we call the Psalms.  Best of all, he was a man after God’s own heart (1 Samuel 13:14).  That is, he cared about what God cared about (at least on his best days).  But even so, he was only human, and being human, he had problems.  His biggest problem was his weakness for the ladies.  His first six sons came from six different wives.  The most infamous of his relationships was the one he had with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11).  Alone one day, walking about on his royal parapet, he looked down and noticed a beautiful woman taking a bath.  And he kept looking (it’s the second look that gets you in trouble).  He soon invited her to the palace, offered her a drink, and well, one thing led to another, and even though she was married, he slept with her.  Things became complicated when she announced she was pregnant (just imagine that conversation), and that her husband, Uriah, had been away at battle for some time, thus eliminating the possibility that he was the father.  What did David do?  He arranged the murder of her husband.  David was not only a peeping Tom, he was a murderer.  And this was but one of the moves by which David, the best earthly king Israel ever had, sowed the seeds of destruction for his own kingdom.  No, not even David was the king Israel needed.  Once again, his was not the voice of the True King.

Worldly Wisdom Personified

But third time’s a charm right?  After David came his son, Solomon.  Talk about a man who had what it takes to be king!  Solomon was the wisest man on earth.  As we noted in chapter one, people came from all over the world to listen to the pearls of wisdom that dropped from his lips (1 Kings 4:34).  He was an administrative genius who created the most efficient government Israel had ever seen, and a master builder to boot (See, generally, 1 Kings 4).  Moreover, he was amazingly wealthy; the Bible describes him as the richest king on earth (1 Kings 10:23).  But even he wasn’t the king Israel needed.  Because if David had a weakness for the ladies, Solomon was weaker still.  He had 700 wives and 300 concubines (1 Kings 11:3), many of whom led him into idolatry and the worship of false gods.  Yes, the wisest man who ever lived turned out to be a fool and set up the scenario that would divide his kingdom during the reign of his son Rehoboam.  Not even Solomon’s was the voice of the True King. 

After Solomon

And after Solomon?  Years of royal screw-ups. A Divided Kingdom.  War. Idolatry.  Social Injustice.  Defeat and exile.  The northern kingdom of Israel defeated, her ten tribes led away by the Assyrians, erased from the pages of history.  The southern kingdom of Judah defeated by Nebuchadnezzar, her tribes taken to Babylon for 70 years before being allowed to return under Persian rule.  Then came the Greeks, a brief period of independence, and finally Rome. Eventually Rome gave Israel a king.  His name was Herod, a brutal megalomaniac who murdered members of his own family to stay in power.  No one in Israel ever made the mistake of thinking that his was the voice of the True King. 

The dream for a king like the nations had proven to be a nightmare.

The Return of the True King

But God never gave up on his people.  He never gave up on his dream of a people who would know him, and him alone, as their True King.  A people who would be his own and show the world how he wanted people to live.  And so, throughout this sordid history of earthly kings and empires, God sent the people reminders of his dream.  Perhaps the best examples of these reminders are the ones that came from the mouth of God’s prophet Isaiah.  Isaiah spoke of tough times, but also offered hope:

‘Nevertheless, that time of darkness and despair will not go on forever…there will be a time in the future when Galilee of the Gentiles, which lies along the road that runs between Jordan and the sea, will be filled with glory.  The people who walk in darkness will see a great light.  For those who live in a land of deep darkness a light will shine.  You will enlarge the nation of Israel, and its people will rejoice.  They will rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest and like warriors dividing plunder.  For you will break the yoke of their slavery and lift the heavy burden from their shoulders.  You will break the oppressor’s rod, just as you did when you destroyed the army of Midian.  The boots of the warrior and the uniforms bloodstained by war will all be burned.  They will be fuel for the fire.  For a child is born to us, a son is given to us.  The government will rest on his shoulders.  And he will be called, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  His government and its peace will never end.  He will rule with fairness and justice from the throne of his ancestor David for all eternity.  The passionate commitment of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies will make this happen!’ (Isaiah 9:1-7). 

‘Out of the stump of David’s family will grow a shoot – yes, a new Branch bearing fruit from the old root.  And the Spirit of the Lord will rest on him – the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and might, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.  He will delight in obeying the Lord…He will give justice to the poor and make fair decisions for the exploited.  The earth will shake at the force of his word, and one breath from his mouth will destroy the wicked.  He will wear righteousness like a belt and truth like an undergarment.  In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together; the leopard will lie down with the baby goat.  The calf and the yearling will be safe with the lion, and a little child will lead them all…nothing will hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain, for as the waters fill the sea, so the earth will be filled with people who know the Lord.  In that day the heir to David’s throne will be a banner of salvation to all the world.  The nations will rally to him, and the land where he lives will be a glorious place’ (Isaiah 11:1-10).

 In other words, God would bring beauty out of the tragedy that occurred on the day Israel asked for a king like the nations.  The God who was Israel’s True King would reveal to them and to the world what their hearts had truly been longing for all along.  It was as if God, through Isaiah, was saying: ‘Hear O Israel!  Your True King is coming, and when he comes, when you follow him, when you hail him as your True King, then you will know peace.  Then you will know joy.  Then you will know salvation.  And this peace, this joy, this salvation, will be not just for you, but for the whole world!  It is coming Israel!  You shall one day hear the voice of your True King!’

The centuries slipped by in the wake of Isaiah’s words, and the people longed to hear that voice.  They longed for the arrival of its owner.  And for a long time, it must have seemed as if it would never happen.  But then, at the dawn of what we now call the first century, an angel named Gabriel showed up.  And he told an old man named Zechariah that the True King was coming.  And he told a young girl named Mary that she would conceive by the Holy Spirit, and that her child would be the True King.  And he told her carpenter fiancé Joseph, a descendant of David, that he should go ahead and marry her and raise the child as his own.  And in the fullness of time, the angels broke forth in glorious song outside the little town of Bethlehem, the birthplace of David, as they announced that the True King had come.  The King Israel should have wanted all along.  God himself.  God in the flesh.  God as one of us.  God as our king. 

And so it came to pass that as Mary brought forth her child into the world on that still, not so silent night, a newborn baby’s cry pierced the darkness of the Judean countryside, and Israel finally heard the voice of the True King. 

The True King’s Kingdom

The voice, of course, belonged to Jesus, whose kingdom was and is unlike anything else the world has ever seen.  Jesus never had a kingdom like Saul, David, Solomon, or any of the nincompoops we’ve studied in this book.  He never wielded a sword.  Never carried a shield.  Never waved a flag.  Never exercised power in the conventional sense.  Never had a palace.  No, Jesus’ kingdom was different.  It was a peaceful kingdom, a kingdom whose power was based on the idea of just coming alongside of people and loving them.  Even if they were enemies.  He traveled up and down the land of Israel, teaching about the Kingdom of God, showing the world his way, revealing to the world the way of the True King. 

Jesus died on a Roman cross for the sins of the world, and I suppose when that happened, it must have seemed as if once again, Israel had not found her True King.  But then came Easter, and the glorious news that Jesus had risen from the dead!  And then, forty days later, he ascended to heaven, from whence he rules and reigns now and forever, and from whence he shall one day come again to make earth and heaven one.

Until that day, his Kingdom expands.  It expands one life at a time.  It expands through those who dedicate themselves to living and loving in his name.  It expands, as through the words and deeds of his followers, the world continues to hear the voice of its True King.

And, as Isaiah said so long ago, it will never stop expanding.  The kings and kingdoms of the world will always fall.  But the Kingdom of God and the Christ will endure forever.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

A Father’s Story

This post is an excerpt from my Advent devotional, The Dawn from On High: Advent Through the Eyes of Those Who Were There. It appears as the second chapter of the book, after Mary has told the story from her perspective.

‘This is how Jesus the Messiah was born.  His mother, Mary, was engaged to be married to Joseph…’ – Matthew 1:18

Oh the joy in my heart!  I was betrothed to Mary!  Oh Mary, she could knock your socks off.  Once matters were arranged, I looked her in the eyes – oh those beautiful eyes – and told her of the home I would prepare for us.  She smiled broadly, the kind of smile that makes the sun come out on a cloudy day, and I hurried off to begin the addition to my father’s house that would one day be our bridal suite.  Such a wondrous time.  The days were filled with expectation and longing.  Just seeing Mary walk by on her way to get water from the well was enough to send my soul into the skies. 

But then one day her father came by.  He could not look me in the eye.  He brought dreadful news.  Mary was pregnant. I tried not to believe it, but there was no reason for him to lie.  After a brief conversation he left, and I fell to the floor.  I cried for hours.  I felt as if the sun would never come out again.

Finally, I rose, resolved to see her, to hear of her betrayal from her own lips.  I felt I deserved at least that from her. 

Boy did she have a story.  She claimed that an angel had appeared to her and told her that she would conceive by the Holy Spirit, and that the child she gave birth to would be none other than the Messiah who would inherit the throne of our ancestor David.  Man, I had heard some whoppers in my day, but that one took the cake.  I was no fool.  I may have been young and inexperienced, but I knew where babies came from, and it wasn’t the Holy Spirit.  So I faced the fact: Mary had betrayed me.  I was heartbroken.  So was she.  I’ll never forget the look in her eyes as she begged me to stay.  But I didn’t.  I turned on my heels and walked out the door.  Mary had always been truthful, but I just couldn’t believe a story like that.  So I walked out of her life, believing I was doing so forever. 

___

My ordeal wasn’t over, however.  There were legal details to arrange.  My options were relatively straightforward.  I could publically divorce her, thereby exposing her betrayal and bringing shame upon her and her family.  I could call for her death by stoning for having broken the contract of marriage.  Or I could quietly break off the engagement.  The first two options were things I could never have done.  Truth was that in spite of what I believed she had done I still loved her.  And so I went with option three. 

Even so, it broke my heart.  It broke over the loss of Mary and the loss of my dreams.  It broke as I thought of what Mary would endure as an unwed mother.  What would become of her?  At best, she would endure shame and humiliation.  At worst, I feared, she might end up a beggar or prostitute.  One thing was certain: our traditional community would not look kindly upon her predicament.

With such thoughts, sleep did not come easy.  I tossed and turned throughout the night until finally, in the early morning hours, in that nether world between sleep and wakefulness, I had a dream.  Or at least something like a dream.  In it I heard a voice, ‘Joseph, son of David!’  I opened my eyes, or at least imagined I did, and saw before me a being wrapped in light.  It was an angel!  I was scared to death.  But then the angel spoke again:

‘Joseph, son of David!  Listen to me.  Don’t be afraid to make Mary your wife.  The child within her was conceived by the Holy Spirit.  She will bring forth a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will be the One who will save people from their sins.  Mary did not lie.  She has told the truth.’ 

I woke with a start, soaked in sweat from head to toe.  I pondered the angel’s words.  Could they be true?  Suddenly, as if by divine inspiration, the words of the prophet Isaiah came into my mind: ‘Look!  The virgin will conceive and bring forth a child.  She will give birth to a son, and he shall be called Emanuel, God with us.’  Tears erupted from my eyes.  It was true!  Mary had not betrayed me.  She had been faithful.  And, which was more, God was on the move.  Mary’s child was the Messiah who would save us all! 

I knew what I had to do.  Four in the morning or not, I had to see Mary.  I raced to her father’s house, pounded on the door.  He greeted me with bed lines on his face, wondering if I had lost my mind.  Maybe I had.  But he let me in.  When I saw Mary, I fell to my knees.  I grabbed her around the waist, resting my head upon her belly, and thought, ‘Oh my Lord, in here rests the hope of the world.’  Mary knelt beside me and we held each other for what seemed an eternity, flooding the house with tears of joy.  When we finally looked up, Mary’s father was crying too. 

In due time, I took Mary to my home, that where I was, there she would also be.  Oh you bet there was a scandal.  People counted on their fingers.  Some laughed.  Some snickered behind our backs.  Some gave dirty looks.  Others were rude, downright hostile.  But we took it all in stride, and if anyone ever got too out of line with Mary, I gave them a talking to they did not soon forget.  But for the most part we accepted the strife, knowing that nothing good ever happens without some degree of suffering, and if this was ours to bear in God’s great plan of redemption, we were more than willing to endure it. 

___

One day, as Mary was approaching her time, a Roman soldier, a herald, arrived in Nazareth.  Caesar had decided to take a census, and everyone was required to travel to the city of their ancestors.     This meant that I, a descendant of David, had to return to Bethlehem, the city of David.  I nearly laughed out loud.  Bethlehem was the place the prophets said the Messiah would be born.  Little did Caesar know that he was setting the stage for the fulfillment of God’s promise! 

So off we went.  I on foot, Mary, nine months pregnant, on our donkey.  The eighty mile, several day trip was a rough one for one so heavy with child, but as Mary herself pointed out, who were we to argue with the ways of God?  We completed the journey in the nick of time.  We had barely touched the mezuzah on the doorpost of the house when Mary had her first contraction (oh, I know many of you think it was an inn, but that’s a misunderstanding.  Bethlehem was my hometown – I had family there).  It was I who nearly fainted.  We first thought to take Mary to the upper portion of the home, but that was a no go.  The census had brought many of my relatives home and the guest room was filled to the brim.  My family would have cleared some space, but we realized that with so many people in the house, it would be best to head down to the lower level, the place where the animals were kept, since there would be more privacy (we folks in the first century weren’t as squeamish as you are today about animals). 

It was a long night.  Mary’s labor was hard.  As I said, nothing good ever happens in the world without some degree of suffering.  But eventually the glorious moment arrived, and Mary’s son, God’s son, was born.  It was beautiful and miraculous, but at the same time unremarkable, like any other birth.  The midwife cleaned him up, and while she tended to Mary, she handed him to me. 

It was love at first sight.

___

There is much more I could tell.  Of shepherds and angels.  Of the day we took Jesus to the Temple and met Simeon and Anna.  I could tell of how Simeon, to whom God had promised he would not die until he saw the Messiah, took Jesus in his arms and declared that he had, and then handed him back to Mary.  I remember his words as he did so, ‘this child is destined to cause the rise and fall of many in Israel.  He will be opposed.’  Oh how his face darkened with those words, and darkened deeper still as with furrowed brow and sad eyes he told my wife that a sword would pierce her heart as well.  I could tell you of how we later received a visit from Magi from the east bearing gifts, and of how an angel again warned me that King Herod was trying to kill Jesus.  I could tell of our consequent flight to Egypt, of how we lived there as refugees for a time, and of how, after an angel told us it was safe to return home, we learned what had happened in our absence.  In a mad attempt to kill our son, Herod had killed all the children under two years old in and around Bethlehem.  Oh how Simeon’s words resounded in my mind as I wondered what such a thing might mean for the future of my son? 

It has been a few years now.  We live in Nazareth.  Jesus is a toddler.  Our lives have been, for the most part, uneventful.  But still, on some nights, after we have tucked Jesus in and helped him say his prayers, I stand over him and wonder: what did Simeon mean?  I reflect upon how Jesus came into the world, of Mary’s difficult labor, and of how nothing good happens in the world without some degree of suffering.  And I reflect upon the fact that Jesus came to do the best thing of all: to save the world.  What pain and suffering must await him?  I have seen what a maniac like Herod can do.  What will others do when Jesus begins to fulfill his destiny?

My friends and neighbors believe that the Messiah will be a triumphant warrior.  But I have heard the town Rabbi read the sacred words, of how the Messiah will be pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our sins.  The punishment that will bring us peace will fall hard upon him.  It will be by his wounds that the rest of us will be healed. 

Oh Father in heaven!  What does that mean?  What will happen to our son?  How can I prepare him for his future?  How can I teach him to be faithful and true, to stand when the time to fulfill his destiny arrives?  Blessed Adonai, I am so inadequate to the task.  Why did you ever choose me?  How can I possibly be a father to the Son of God?

But I remember what the angel said.  I am the son of David.  The descendant of a simple shepherd used by God to do great things. And I think, maybe God can use a simple carpenter too.

Maybe, he can use anyone. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Artwork by Michelle Jones

The Manger Player

‘And she brought forth her newborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger’ – Luke 2:7

How extraordinary is the chronicle of Christ’s Nativity!  Peasant parents-to-be on the move to register for the all-powerful Emperor Augustus’s census, mere mice in a world patrolled by imperial lions.  Arriving at their destination, they are forced to bring forth their miracle child in less-than-ideal conditions.  Depending on your interpretation of events, they were either shuffled off from the inn to a barn out back or relegated to the lower portion of a dwelling where the animals were kept.  Either way, their son – no less than the Son of the God – was born in a stable.  You might have thought that the Almighty Maker of Heaven and Earth, who created the universe out of nothing, could have arranged a better location for His Son’s birth than a place that stank like wet animal fur and dung.  The only people who came to acknowledge the incredible introduction of God in human skin were shepherds (the magi came later), hardly the major players of Judean society.  It was hardly an auspicious beginning.  The regents of the world would never have done it this way.

Which is precisely the point.  This was the unfolding of God’s plan to save the world, and God, though the possessor of ultimate and comprehensive power, doesn’t behave like the world’s major players.  He reveals his strength in weakness, a weakness that proves itself to be stronger than human strength (See, 1 Corinthians 1:25; 2 Corinthians 12:9).  It is through weakness and foolishness that God saves the world.  Which explains perfectly why Jesus was conceived in the womb of a poor peasant girl, birthed in a stable, and laid in a manger, why he came into the world not as a major player but, if you will, a ‘manger player.’  That’s the way God rolls. 

We would do well to remember this.

Too often we do not.  History is replete with examples of professing Jesus followers pursuing the way of power, the path of the major players, rather than the path of the one in the manger.  It is a path God never asked his people to follow, one that He Himself expressly rejected in the life of His Son.  Yet many follow it anyway, believing that obtaining what the world perceives as power is not only important but a matter of life and death. 

I am reminded of this every day when I read the news.  The 2020 Presidential election is over, and most of us would like to move on, but as we all know the President is playing a dangerous game, spinning patently false conspiracy theories in a transparent attempt to steal an election in pursuit of his own interests.  That a political leader, a major player on the world stage, would behave in such a manner probably shouldn’t surprise us.  The regents of the world often behave this way.  It’s kind of par for the course.  The extent to which it seems odd to us in America reflects how privileged we have been in this society up to this point.  Not everyone in the world is quite so privileged. 

But to see professing Christians, those who claim to follow Jesus, backing such an effort, hoping to thereby have access to the halls of power, exercise influence, and advance an agenda, should shock the conscience of everyone who hopes to honestly follow the one born and laid in a manger. 

An influential leader in the evangelical world recently gave voice to the position of many when he echoed the President’s lies, refused to accept the ‘monstrous’ Joe Biden as his fellow American, and called the election ‘the most horrifying thing that has ever happened in the history of the nation.’  He then proclaimed to the President (who had called in to his show; yes, this man has a show): ‘I’d be willing to die in this fight.  This is a fight for everything.  God is with us.’[1] In brief, this leader conveyed his belief that Christians had to fight for Trump because everything depends on keeping him in office

I beg to differ.  Christians should know that everything does not depend on keeping one’s preferred political candidate in power.  Rather, everything depends on following the one who, rather than be born in a palace and laid on a bed of downy softness, was born in a stable and laid in a manger.  Everything depends on following the one who, after he grew into adulthood, expressly spurned the imperial power game.  Everything depends on following the one who, though he had created all things, rejected being a major player on the world’s terms, took up his cross as his preferred means to save the world, and called us to do the same.

The Apostle Paul said that Christians are to have the same mind as Christ Jesus, who, even though he was God, renounced his privilege, became one of us, took on the form of a servant, and humbled himself all the way to the Cross (Philippians 2:5-8). 

There is a battle worth dying for in our time.  It’s a battle for the soul of the Church.  In this battle, with all due respect to the evangelical leader quoted above (and those who agree with him), the question is not whether we will give our lives for Donald Trump.  Or Joe Biden.  Or any other major player on the scene of imperial politics.  The question is not whether we will give our lives in the mad quest to obtain imperial power that we might change the world from the top down.  The question is whether we will give our lives, not for the major players, but for the ‘manger player,’ pursue his humble path, and walk with him as he changes the world from the bottom up. 

As the Mandalorian would say, ‘This is the way,’ and everything depends upon our following it.    

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent


[1] Eric Metaxas, Christian Radio Host, Tells Trump, ‘Jesus is With Us in this Fight.’ Religion New Service. November 30, 2020.

A House Divided

‘Come now, and let us reason together’ – Isaiah 1:18

The recent election proves what we already knew: we live in a deeply divided country.  This should trouble all of us, no matter what side of the political divide on which we find ourselves.  A divided people cannot find ways to tackle their problems.  When Lincoln quoted Jesus in the years before the Civil War, he was not misappropriating anything: a house divided against itself cannot stand (Mark 3:25). 

Even more troubling to me, as a follower of Jesus, is the division within the Church.  Jesus prayed that his followers be one, and not just for unity’s sake.  He gave this reason: ‘may they experience such perfect unity that the world will know that you [the Father] sent me and that you love them as much as you love me’ (John 17:23).  Our unity, Jesus said, points people to God and His love.  By this measure, Christians in America aren’t doing very well right now, and so, in this post, I want to name and confront the proverbial elephant (or donkey?) in the room.

I suppose I should begin by identifying my own stance (regular readers can skip this paragraph). I’m neither a Democrat nor a Republican. As I wrote in my previous post, I follow the example of Treebeard from The Lord of the Rings when it comes to the empire’s politics. We should be altogether on the side of Jesus, not the empire. Thus, I am not altogether on the side of any political party, though at times I find that my way and the way of a particular political party may follow similar paths, thereby enabling us to work together on at least some things. Conversely, I find at times that the path of a particular political party is so contrary to my own that I cannot walk with them at all. So full disclosure: I currently find myself walking more closely with those who label themselves ‘blue’ than with those who label themselves ‘red.’ Indeed, as Treebeard might say, while I am not altogether on the side of the blues, I am altogether not on the side of the reds at the moment. I don’t say this to attack those of you who are on that side. I say it in the interests of full disclosure.

Overcoming the division in the Church (to say nothing of the country) is going to be tough.  In recent years, as the divide has deepened, I’ve found myself struggling with two competing truths: first, that I am, as a follower of Jesus, called to seek unity; and second, that I am equally called to pursue truth and justice.  Balancing these two imperatives has been tricky.  Unity is important, but unity without truth and justice isn’t unity; it’s complicity.  Martin Luther King, in his Letter from Birmingham jail, condemned the preference of the ‘white moderate’ for civility over justice.  Choosing a phony unity at the expense of justice only exacerbates the suffering of the marginalized and vulnerable.  That isn’t the sort of ‘perfect unity’ Jesus was talking about in his high priestly prayer.  There is nothing admirable or God-honoring in that, nothing that makes the world look to the church and say, ‘boy, I sure see God’s love there!’  On the contrary, the world sees such nonsense for what it is: a cold ambivalence toward the suffering of others.

And so, I have spoken out, and as I have, in blog posts and books, I have found myself at odds with those who see things differently.  I’m not entirely sure how to resolve this situation.  I still have an obligation to speak truth and do justice, even if it upsets people.  But at the same time, knowing how disunity in the Body of Christ breaks Jesus’ heart, I would like to find a way forward. 

To do so, we will need to go on a journey.  By ‘we’ I mean Christians like myself who have opposed the presidency of Donald Trump, and Christians not like myself who have, for reasons I still don’t understand, chosen to support him. It will be a painful and difficult journey, sort of like Frodo’s to Mordor, fraught with perils and potentialities for disaster.  But if we are to discover together what it means to be followers of Jesus in this divided world, if we are to find together the positions and values that Jesus desires us to take into the political sphere (discoveries that will require us to do far more than just ‘agree to disagree’) we will need to take it. 

The first step along this journey, I believe, is this: we need to listen to one another.  You need to listen to me, and I need to listen to you. 

Since I’m the one writing I guess I’ll start.  I will share three reasons why I have opposed and continue to oppose Trumpism.  I hope you read them with an open mind.  I do not offer them to start a fight. I offer them in the hope of inspiring constructive conversations that may take us beyond our current state of division.

First, I oppose Trumpism because I oppose autocracy

I know that some of you are fearful of the radical left, and believe that if a Democrat had won the election, even a relatively moderate one like Joe Biden, this would have been a step in the direction of a leftist autocracy.  I respectfully disagree with your assessment there (I don’t think Biden poses such a danger), but I do share your desire to avoid autocratic rule, be it from the left or right.  And that is my problem with Trumpism: I fear that it represents a clear and present danger of autocracy from the right.  Donald Trump has shown a tendency toward autocratic rule from the beginnings of his candidacy.  He promised the country he would show us the power inherent in the Presidency, and he did.  During his administration, we have seen and continue to see a disrespect for democratic norms, the prodigious use of ‘alternative facts’ (aka lies and propaganda), attempts to suppress voting, spurious attacks against the legitimacy of the electoral process, the intimidation of a free press, the purging of government agencies, the overriding of Congress, the bullying of perceived enemies, the use of force against peaceful protestors, the weaponization of religion, threats to deploy the military against American citizens, the refusal to denounce a kidnapping plot against a sitting governor (which, it could be argued, he encouraged), and the coddling of authoritarian rulers.  Over the past 100 years of American history, we have seen the rise of an ‘Imperial Presidency,’ as the Executive branch of government has grown in power at the expense of the Legislative and Judicial branches.   This has been accelerating for the past twenty years under both Republican and Democratic administrations, but Trump put the pedal to the metal.  I believe that if Trump had won this past election, he would have eroded our system of checks and balances even further and done profound damage to the American republic.  At best, I believe America would have become an elective dictatorship wherein the President would call all the shots going forward.  This, I believe, would have been tragic, as it would have created the possibility of autocratic rule from both the left and right for decades to come.  Jesus said that while the leaders of the nations seek to lord authority over people, it should not be so for those who follow him (Mark 10:42-44). Simply put, as a Christian charged with ‘seeking the welfare of the city’ in which I live, I could not countenance the possibility of authoritarianism, especially one that enlists the support of Christ followers.  And so, for this reason, I opposed and continue to oppose Trumpism. 

Second, I oppose Trumpism because I reject the politics of fear, anger, and division.

From where I sit, Trump came to prominence by playing on people’s darkest fears, stoking the fires of hate and resentment, and portraying ‘the other side’ not as mere political opponents with whom to spar, but as dangerous enemies who need to be eradicated.  It is not for nothing that Trump earned the moniker, ‘Divider in Chief.’ 

My reading of the Bible teaches me that fear, anger, and division are not merely poor motivators, they are evil ones.  Fear causes us to cling to what we have and fight off any perceived threat, no matter how innocuous.  It causes us to assume the worst about others, even to demonize them, which in turn leads to division, marginalization, and oppression.  It has no place in the repertoire of Christ followers, who are to be motivated by the perfect love that casts out fear (see, 1 John 4:18). Anger, too, is a poor emotion upon which to build a political philosophy.  Anger is addictive; it provides our brains with a bio-chemical boost that fuels more anger. Nursing grudges and harboring resentment can make us feel good in the short run, but longer term, it eats away our souls, causes us to view others as contemptible, even sub-human, and builds walls instead of bridges.  Division is the result of both fear and anger, and as Jesus (and Lincoln) noted, a divided people will not last very long.  There is a reason why tyrants employ the tactic, ‘divide and conquer;’ once we are divided, we can be picked off quite easily. 

When I consider the fruits of the politics of fear, anger, and division, I feel confirmed in my opposition to it. After four years of Trumpism, both America and the Church are less kind, less unified, and less willing to work together to solve problems than ever before. We are literally afraid of each other.  We are angry to the point of breaking off relationships.  We are even, in some quarters, threatening violence against one another.  For the first time in American history, we have a President unwilling to commit to a peaceful transfer of power, doing all he can to sabotage his successor, and fomenting dangerous and false conspiracy theories about a stolen election.  I believe that if he could pull it off, he would happily destroy democracy to stay in office, and millions would cheer that as a victory. This is the fruit of Trumpism.  He has narcissistically sown the wind, and the nation has reaped the whirlwind.  It will take a long time to recover.  Friends, this is what I feared when he first emerged on the political stage years ago, and this is another reason why I have twice opposed the election of Donald Trump.

Third, I oppose Trumpism because I oppose racism. 

Trump is a racist.  The evidence for this is overwhelming. He has said awful things.  He has encouraged violence against people of color.  He has called them thugs and worse.  He has channeled the spirit of ardent segregationists of the 1950s and 60s.  He has called white nationalists ‘good people’ and refused, repeatedly, to denounce white supremacy and Neo-Nazi groups (indeed, he has encouraged them). He has condemned in fiery terms those who lament the shootings of unarmed black men by police. He denies the existence of systemic racism and routinely stokes the fires of racial prejudice against black and brown people. 

This, if nothing else were wrong with Trumpism, would be a deal breaker for me.  And since I am trying to honest here, the fact that it is not for so many who support Trump, hurts me deeply (as does the name calling that often ensues when I admit that; racism is real, and being hurt by racism hardly makes a person a ‘snowflake’).  After four years worth of evidence of Trump’s racism (and willingness to act on it), I find it hard to fathom that 73 million people either agree with him, or, at the very least say, ‘Yeah, I know he’s a racist.  But so what? It’s not a deal breaker for me.  Go Trump!’  Maybe that’s not what every Trump supporter is saying, but it sure seems that way.  I have rarely, if ever, heard a Trump supporter, Christian or not, condemn Trump’s racist rhetoric and policies.  Indeed, I have more often heard them defend him.  Either way, by silence or affirmation, my fellow Christians who support Trump have told me they don’t care.  They have, it appears, dismissed the experience of black and brown people, many of whom are their brothers and sisters in Christ who endure the bitter sting of racism every day.  How can this be? This is not just a theoretical issue for me either. I have an African American son who will have to grow up in the America Trump and his followers are creating.  Trumpism is a threat to every American who doesn’t have the ‘privilege’ of being white.  It is a threat to my son’s very life, and to the lives of many other sons and daughters.  This too, is a reason why I have strongly opposed, and will continue to strongly oppose Trumpism.

So there they are, three reasons why I have not supported and will not support Trumpism.  Three reasons why I cannot understand why anyone does. There are other reasons too, but this is a start.   

Now comes the really hard part: the invitation.

Christians like myself need to know where those on the other side of the divide are coming from.  We need to have you talk to us about our concerns, and why they aren’t enough for you to sever your allegiance to Donald Trump.  Equally important, we need to listen to your concerns, and why they lead you to continue to support him.  And we need to have such conversations in a calm, rational, and deliberative way.

I don’t know if doing so will achieve anything.  Perhaps not. Perhaps the Church in America has become so lost that there is no way for us to find our way back to Jesus together. Perhaps we have to accept that we have been torn asunder and go our separate ways, with some doubling down on Trumpism (or whatever name it will go by in the years ahead) and others standing against it. Perhaps the ‘perfect unity’ of which Christ spoke, a unity that encompasses both justice and truth, is, for Christians in America, merely a fool’s hope.  

But perhaps, if we listen and talk together, we may find a way forward.  We may find a way beyond the divisiveness of Trumpism, beyond collaboration with either Red or Blue versions of empire, and into the good and perfect way of Jesus.

Maybe, somehow, the Church can still find a way to be one, so that when others see us together, they will see the love of God. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Rejoicing Christians – Beware a Constantinian Moment

Soldiers do not get tied up in civilian life, for then they cannot please the officer who enlisted them’ – 2 Timothy 2:4 (NLT)

Those of us who bemoaned the rancorous leadership style of Donald Trump the past four years have reason to celebrate these days.  After a contentious election, the American people have collectively chosen Joe Biden to be the President of the United States.  Although Trump refuses to concede, and is already (and predictably) plotting mischief, it nonetheless appears that the long night has come to an end and a new day has dawned.  We have every reason to believe that, come January 20th, 2021, there will be a new occupant in the White House. 

As I listened to Joe Biden’s victory speech on Saturday, November 7th, I could not help but rejoice.  To hear the President-elect speak of decency and healing, after four years of trash talk and division, was refreshing to say the least.  My family and I expressed our thankfulness that this man, and not the other, had been granted the privilege of leading this country for the next four years.  We felt as if he were the right man for the right time, a grandfatherly figure who could help heal the nation’s wounds.  Where before we had little hope of progress on issues of deep concern to our family, we sensed hope rising once again.

But even as I felt hope rising, I felt the check in my heart: ‘don’t get carried away with this.’  Why?  Well, maybe the best way to explain that is to go back 1700 years in history.

 It was early in the 4th Century, and Christians had emerged from the Diocletian Persecution, one of the worst periods of persecution against the Church in its history.  While it was severe, it wasn’t anything new.  For three centuries the Church had been in Rome’s sights.  Christians were hunted, burned, thrown to the lions, and slain by gladiators.  Denied the right to freely practice their faith, they lived in fear of exposure and death.  Then, in 313 AD a Roman named Constantine won a major battle at the Milvian Bridge.  He claimed to have had a vision of the Cross and painted it on the shields of his warriors.  After he won, he credited the victory to the God of the Christians, and announced he was now one himself.  In the ensuing years, he consolidated power and became Emperor.  He legalized Christianity and made himself an ally of the church (though perhaps it would be more accurate to say he enlisted the church as an ally to bolster his empire).  In the years that followed, under Constantine’s predecessors, there was a bit of an ebb and flow to this alliance, but in the end, Christianity emerged as the official religion of the empire.  The cementation of politics and religion had been made complete. 

Christians were generally ecstatic over this change, and it isn’t difficult to understand why.  Where they were once hunted and killed, they were now coddled and exalted.  But alas, this switch came at great cost. Seduced by the power and security of empire, the Church changed dramatically.  Where once it had been nonviolent, even pacifistic, it now took up arms in service to the empire.  Where once it worked at the margins of power, with the weak and vulnerable, it now stood at the center of power, with the strong and powerful.  Where once it worked from the bottom up, transforming society from below, it now worked from the top down, controlling society from above.  Where it had once stood at the crossroads of culture, showing the world another way, that is, Jesus’ way, it now stood in the halls of power, copying the way of the world.  The Church became a servant to the empire, rather than a counter-cultural witness to it.  It became so entangled in the empire’s affairs, that it soon lost sight of what the Master was calling it to do and be. 

We have been paying the price ever since.  For 1700 years, the Church of the west has been off course, most often following the way of the dragon instead of the way of the Lamb. 

Now, to be clear, this isn’t a precise parallel to our current situation.  Christians haven’t exactly been thrown to the lions these past four years (though I hasten to add that many have been separated from their families and thrown in cages), and Biden didn’t gain power after a battle wherein he claimed to have seen a vision of Christ.  But the lesson nonetheless applies.  Christians should never align themselves with empire.  They should never entangle themselves so deeply with political power that they become unfaithful to their mission.  This principle applies across the board, to both Republican and Democratic versions of empire (or any other for that matter).  And yes, both are versions of empire.  We may prefer one over the other, but make no mistake, both seek to control from above, both employ violence to achieve their ends, and neither follows (at least not completely) in the footsteps of Jesus.  Democratic and Republican regimes are regimes of empire, and neither has a better claim to our allegiance.  Our allegiance belongs to Jesus Christ alone. 

This doesn’t mean that we can never work with government leaders, just that we need to be careful.  I recently read (for the umpteenth time) The Lord of the Rings.  (I confess to a certain thrill when I read of the fall of the Tower of Barad Dur as the election results came in).  One of my favorite characters is Treebeard, the wise old Ent who shepherds the trees of Fangorn forest.  This time around, I was struck by something Treebeard said to Merry and Pippin when asked which side of the battle he was on:

We might do some things together.  I don’t know about sides.  I go my own way; but your way may go along with mine for a while…I am not altogether on anybody’s side, because no one is altogether on my side, if you understand me…there are some things, of course, whose side I am altogether not on; I am against them altogether.’ 

I love those words.  They remind me that as a follower of Jesus, I should not be altogether on anyone’s side, other than His.  Still, there are some things I may be able to do with others, for our ways may travel together for a time, and there are some things, of course, on whose side I can never be.  In the real world, and particularly in this moment, this means that Christians can work with Biden and his administration on all sorts of things, the sorts of things on which our ways travel together, such as: fighting racism, helping the poor, caring for creation, restoring decency, and building bridges of understanding between people who do not agree.  These are all consistent with the way of Jesus, and to the extent we can advance them together, wonderful!  It also means that Christians may need to stand against other ‘sides’ when they, say: promote racism, neglect the poor, despoil creation, act indecently, or divide people with the politics of fear and hate.  In this season, we can look for ways to work with the ‘sides’ that promote causes consistent with the heart of God, even as we stand against the ‘sides’ that fight against those same causes. 

But we dare not make the mistake of believing that we are on the side of any political party.  We are not.  The Empire, however benevolent it may seem at a given moment, is not the Kingdom of Jesus.  Biden and the Democrats are not marching in lockstep with Kingdom values.  As the Church, Christians have a different mission and different means than those of empire.  Yes, we may do some things together, but let us not pretend we are ‘altogether on the same side.’ 

Shortly before the election, I posted two Christian ‘to do lists’ in the event that Trump or Biden won.  The point of the article was that no matter who won, our work would be the same.  Here is my list of things to do in the event Biden won (which, again is the same as if Trump won):

  1. Hope
  2. Pray
  3. Stand against racism and bigotry
  4. Speak up for immigrants and refugees
  5. Care for Creation
  6. Advocate for and serve the poor and vulnerable
  7. Speak truth
  8. Do justice
  9. Love God
  10. Love my family
  11. Love my neighbors
  12. Love my enemies
  13. Seek the Kingdom
  14. Anticipate the return of Jesus
  15. Point people to Jesus

I might now add to the list, ‘do not succumb to the temptation to join the empire.’ 

This list is important folks.  Because even when Trump is gone and Biden is President, our job is not done.  Trumpism isn’t going anywhere, nor should we think it is a cultural aberration.  It is the latest iteration of the age old fallen imperial tendencies to exert control via the means of fear and rage, to divide populations in order to conquer them, to marginalize certain people groups, to steal from the poor, and to achieve absolute power.  These tendencies are as ancient as Old Scratch himself, and sadly will remain with us until the day of Christ’s return.  Until that day, disciples of Jesus must be on guard against them, even as we stand on guard against the excesses and abuses of other political philosophies as well. 

Folks, we still have work to do.  We need to show the world, including Biden and his administration no less than any other, the Jesus Way of doing things.  As we do, we can follow Treebeard’s advice and do some things together.  But let us remember, our allegiance is to another King. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent