It’s Time to Abandon the Empire

‘Whenever the Spirit of God blows like a hurricane through Christian history, it is through prophets and lovers who have surrendered unconditionally to the folly of the Cross’ – Brennan Manning

It was tough living in first century Palestine, at least if you were a faithful Jew.  Herod the Great, and his sons after him, collaborated with Rome to impose Greco-Roman politics and culture upon Israel with evangelistic fervor. The way of Herod, aka the way of empire, the way of wielding power from above to impose one’s will upon those below, was having its way throughout the land. This was the world of Jesus.

In his book, The Jesus Way, Eugene Peterson points out something rather remarkable about Jesus and his time: despite the virtual omnipresence of the Roman Empire and its puppet kings, Jesus pretty much went about his business as if they didn’t exist. Only once did he briefly mention the emperor (Mark 12:17), and it was the same with the house of Herod (Luke 13:32).  He called Herod Antipas a ‘fox,’ which was just enough of an insult to let everyone know what he thought of that family’s wily political ways. Not that he was unaffected by these miscreants. He certainly was. His birth in Bethlehem was brought about by imperial edict. As a toddler he fled with his refugee family to escape Herod’s mania.  As a craftsman in Nazareth he felt the financial pinch of the empire’s oppressive taxation. As an itinerant preacher he walked among centurions and soldiers who jealously eyed him with suspicion.   And at the end of his life he was deemed a political enemy of the state and crucified under orders of the Roman Governor Pilate.  Even his grave was guarded by Roman soldiers. From birth to death, Jesus life was ramed by the politics and policies of empire. 

But he never let the empire dictate the course of his life.  He simply swam in its waters (without ‘getting wet,’ i.e., being contaminated by them) as he heeded the voice of his Father.  Never once did he seek to use the empire’s power to further his message. He never petitioned it for a redress of grievances (though the Gospels show evidence of other religious leaders doing just that). He never asked Herod to implement just laws or further the Kingdom of God on earth. It is striking that during the greatest injustice ever perpetrated, his own arrest and trial, he never once asked either Herod or Pilate for mercy.  In fact, he was silent before Herod, and largely so before Pilate.  To the latter he would only say that his Kingdom didn’t operate along the lines of power politics and violence, as Pilate’s did, and that in any event his life was in his Father’s hands, not Rome’s. In other words, even when the regents of the world stood before him and asked for his input on the subject of his own death, he pretty much ignored them. 

This is not to say he never addressed the powers of his day.  On the contrary, he challenged them at every turn. His every move in life was, in a sense, a political act; a statement in word or action that decried the way of empire and violence. But he never employed the ways and means of the empire to make his case. He never sought political power or assistance. He never enmeshed himself, even to the slightest degree, in the empire’s methods. He simply went about his Father’s business, strolling about the dominion of the empire, showing everyone another way to change the world.

There are of course many reasons why he took this approach. But most crucial is that empire simply wasn’t his Father’s way. His Fathers way was (and is) the way of the Cross, which Paul described as the wisdom of God and the power of God (1 Corinthians 1:24). Jesus knew that using the ways and means of empire to make the world a better place would be useless. Might as well try to make the sun rise in the west. The empire was the empire was the empire, and always would be. There was nothing to gain by becoming entangled with it and everything to lose. Get involved in the empire, pursue its ways, and you’ll only end up talking, looking, and smelling like the empire. You might gain at least a part of the world, but in the process lose your own soul (Mark 8:36). Much better, and ultimately far more effective, to follow the way of the Cross.

Such thoughts race through my mind today in the wake of Donald Trump’s second acquittal in the Senate, supposedly the ‘greatest deliberative body on earth.’  We all knew how it would end. And we were right. If you were hoping for another outcome you were fooling yourself. You were counting on an empire to do the right thing. But an empire is an empire is an empire. It never does the right thing. Maybe once in a blue moon it makes a move in the right direction.  Even a blind pig will occasionally find a truffle.  But in the end, the forces of empire, the power players who long to impose their will on those below them, always manage to get their way. It was empire that created the system after all, and it works exactly the way empire intends. 

I’ve spent several years now lamenting and fighting the empire, or at least the version known as Trumpism.  But after everything that’s happened, Trumpism is still alive, still menacing the nation in the wake of insurrection. I will continue to stand against it, of course, but in coming days I’m going to do better at remembering the tactics of Jesus. I’m resolving to spend less time paying attention to what the empire is doing. Sure, I will vote. I will speak out about issues that matter. I will stand against racism, seek solidarity with the vulnerable, work to preserve the beauty of God’s creation, lots of things.  I may even show up at a protest or two. But I am not going to expend the best parts of myself watching and worrying about the minutiae of what the empire is doing, thinking that by doing so I can somehow will it to do the right thing. The vote today proves what I really knew all along.  It never will.   

So, instead, I’m going to follow the way of the cross. I’m going to stroll around the dominion of empire doing my best to show everyone another way to change the world. I’m going to try to be more like my Jesus (I am well aware of how far I fall short of that standard), the one who went about his business of challenging the empire and its ways without seeming to notice it. My life will still be lived in the shadow of the beast, as his was, and in some ways shaped by the beast’s designs and machinations. But I will not waste my time worrying about those designs and machinations. I will instead seek my Fathers will and place myself in his hands. I will live by the creed of another Kingdom, not the Pilatian, Herodian, or Trumpian kingdoms of the world.   

Will doing this make a difference? I have no idea.  It really isn’t any of my concern. In the inside cover of my Bible I have taped a quote from Brother Dominique, a friend and mentor of the late Brennan Manning. It reads:

‘All that is not the love of God has no meaning for me.  I can truthfully say that I have no interest in anything but the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.  If God wants it to, my life will be useful through my word and witness.  If he wants it to, it will bear fruit through my prayers and sacrifices.  But the usefulness of my life is His concern, not mine.  It would be indecent of me to worry about that.’[1]

It’s time to get out of the shallow end of the pool and live that statement to the full.

Let the chips fall where they may. I will trust God and follow Jesus.  I will follow the way of the Cross.

As Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw say, ‘enough with the donkeys and elephants. It’s time for the Lamb.’

It’s time to abandon the empire. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent


[1] From All is Grace, by Brennan Manning.

Signposts

‘It’s all a muddle’ – Stephen Blackpool, in Charles Dickens Hard Times

How naïve we were. 

Many of us thought, or at least hoped, that after January 20th, things would return to ‘normal.’  The Q Anon conspiracy would vanish.  The Proud and Boogaloo Boys?  They’d put down their guns and take up needlepoint.  The tens of millions who drank the Trumpian Kool-Aid?  They’d all join hands with the other side and sing Kumbaya.    The 197 members of Congress who voted to overturn an election would apologize.  The ringleaders, in both Congress and the former Administration, who actively worked to incite an insurrection would be held accountable.  Trump would be convicted of impeachment charges in the Senate.  White Evangelical ‘Christians’ who had made the devils bargain, exchanging their values for power, would fall on their faces and cry out to God for forgiveness.  White Supremacists would have an epiphany.  And the cult of Donald Trump would come to an abrupt and sudden end.  

Ok, maybe we didn’t think all that would happen.  But we at least hoped that major progress would be quickly made. 

Instead, almost the exact opposite is happening.  Q Anon is thriving, within the very halls that its adherents and allies attacked a mere matter of weeks ago.  Militia groups are arming (so much for needlepoint).  Trump fans are, well, still Trump fans.  Republicans in Congress are siding with those who lied about the election (not all mind you, just 90% of them).  The ringleaders have not only not been held accountable, but it looks like they will all get off scot free.  Trump will, barring a miracle, not be convicted by the Senate.  The aforementioned white Evangelicals are doubling down on the devil’s bargain.  White supremacy is going strong.  And the cult of Trump is nursing its wounds and planning a comeback for its master ‘in some form.’

The truth is that the country is mess.  Evil lingers still.  It will be back. One of America’s two major parties is choosing the path of insane conspiracy theories, lies, hate, and authoritarian tactics. [1]  It feels as if we stand on the edge of a dark abyss, and it is only a matter of time before we are pulled in.  It seems as if we are captives to our times, and there is little we can do about it as we watch dark events unfold. 

What are people of goodwill to do?  What, most particularly, are followers of Jesus to do? 

The answer is simple.  Live.  We are to live, knowing that we are not captives to our times.  We are the keepers of a better future.  We know that no matter what happens in the coming years, in the end, Julian of Norwich will be proven correct: ‘all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.’  I have been struck as of late by the words by the late Francis Schaffer, a theologian who wrote extensively about the ongoing suffering and evil of our world, and the responsibility of the Christian who lives within it.  We are not to just resign ourselves as captives to our times, or to lay down and die in the face of the evil around us, any more than we are to join such evil.  We are to live in the midst of said evil differently, in the direction of what we know the future will be, in the direction of a world made new by the love and grace of God at the return of Jesus.  Schaffer wrote:

‘Wars will continue until the Prince of Peace comes, but we must pursue harmony now.  Hunger and poverty will remain until the Bread of Life returns, but we must still care for those in need now.  Sin will permeate this earth until the Spotless Lamb arrives, but we must preach forgiveness now.  Our actions today should be driven by our knowledge of what is to come.’ 

He is so right.  Yes, the world is a mess.  But we have been called to live as ‘citizens of heaven’ (Philippians 2:27), ‘strangers and exiles on earth’ (Hebrews 11:13) waiting for the better world that Christ will one day bring.  We are not captives of our times; we are liberated to live the in the light of the future that will be.  Even when the world around us is a total mess. 

Stephen Blackpool is one of my favorite Dickensian characters.  He is a mere ‘hand,’ a cog in a vast industrial machine, with little power or influence in a society ruled by misguided men.  ‘It’s all a muddle,’ he says, over and again, as he tries to figure things out.  He laments that there is nothing he can think of to make things better.  But at one point he grasps that carrying on in the way of the world will never work. He says: 

‘I cannot, with my little learning and my common way, tell you what will make all this better…but I can tell you what won’t.  The strong hand will never do it.  Victory and triumph will never do it.  Believing your side is unnaturally and always forever right, and the other side unnaturally always and forever wrong…will never do it till the Sun turns to ice.’[2]

Stephen is on to something.  The world is a muddle.  In our day as well as his.  Behaving like the world will never make anything better.  Power politics will never do it.  Winning at all costs, selling your values for power, will never do it.  Demonizing those you disagree with, to the point of violence, as so many do today, will never do it.  All of this is the way of empire.  The way of hate.  The way of vengeance. 

But living as children of light in a world of darkness, now that’s something.  Living as signposts that point to a better day that is to come, that might make a difference.  Living as those who believe in justice.  Living as peacemakers.  Living as truth tellers.  Living as those who love while those around us rage.  Those things just might make all the difference in the world. 

The world may be a mess, and maybe we can’t arrange all the improvements we would like.  Probably not.  But we can live as signposts pointing to coming day.  A day that, as followers of Jesus, we know is coming soon. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent


[1] I should add that even if the government stays ‘blue,’ that doesn’t rid us of evil.  Blue or Red (or yellow or purple for that matter), empires are empires.  They are inherently power seeking and corrupt (though under present circumstances, I’d prefer Blue over Red any day of the week). 

[2] Stephen speaks with a heavy accent.  With apologies to Mr. Dickens, I’ve cleaned it up to make it easier to understand.  I still love the original. 

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

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

Sesame Street Dispatches ‘The Count’ to Save America

Phoenix, AZ – Anxious Americans breathed a sigh of relief today as it was announced that Count von Count, aka ‘The Count,’ had been dispatched by the Children’s Television Workshop to assist struggling Arizona vote processors in Maricopa County. 

Upon his arrival, The Count immediately took his place beside two nice older ladies who were already hard at work in the trenches of American Democracy.  Grabbing a bundle of ballots, The Count began opening envelopes and creating piles of ballots for processing. ‘One, one ballot!  Two, two ballots!  Three, three ballots!  Mwah ha ha ha!  I can do this all night!’ 

The Trump campaign was quick to smell a left-wing conspiracy.  ‘For crying out loud, he’s from public television!’ cried Rudy Giuliani, ‘PBS!  What’s next, the ghost of Mr. Rogers giving lectures on kindness and decency?  This kind of election interference is the last thing America needs.  We were doing fine until all this ‘counting’ stuff started happening.  What is this, a democracy?’ 

After finishing his work in Maricopa, The Count plans to move on to Nevada, Pennsylvania, or wherever else he is needed.  When asked why he was so amenable to such work, he smiled broadly, shooed away the bats flying over his head, and replied in a thick Transylvanian accent, ‘I love to count!’ 

Experts believe his final task will be to count the number of lawsuits the Trump campaign files to challenge the election results, but it is widely believed that even The Count won’t be able to count that high.