Tuesday January 12, 2021 | The week after Epiphany
Dear Blacknall family,
I haven’t slept much this past week. I keep returning to the events of last Wednesday, a day in the season that Christians call Epiphany, in which Christ is revealed as Messiah and Lord. But last Wednesday will not be remembered for that noble and hopeful proclamation. Instead, it will be remembered as the day in which thousands of Americans, many identified specifically as Christians, tried to overturn the results of a national election by force, with the encouragement of the President. The violence that ensued has resulted in several deaths, and that day has left us fearful what may occur in the inauguration next week.
It has been a year of violence and death, as we know. The pandemic has killed millions and has heightened anxieties, accentuated isolation, fear, and suspicion. Racial division and unrest have sparked violence and destruction. Political leaders on both sides seem to specialize in nursing all of this, in service to their own interests.
But then, as we know from the account in Matthew 2 that we read recently, describing the attempt of Herod to rid the world of his competitors through lies and violence, this is exactly the world into which the Savior came, a world divided, fearful, deeply suspicious, and angry. And despairing, so despairing that people who ordinarily would not take rash destructive action feel desperate and compelled to do so, that they are left with no choice, no hope.
As your pastor, I feel so much grief over these events. And my primary grief is over our body at Blacknall. We are not immune to the stresses and pressures of our time and place. I have never before heard so much anxiety, fear, suspicion, and judgment, with too much of it (politely) directed at others in the body of Christ.
All communication, at the end of the day, depends on trust. We are seeing the opposite of trust everywhere we look these days, suspicion over sources, questions about truthfulness and ulterior motives; we have come to expect that we will be lied to. When I talk with folks about our political life, I know I will be quizzed, “Where did you see that?” Perhaps it is foolish of me to attempt to say anything at all about our moment and our discipleship. But I dare to trust that you will be generous, based on our life together over many years, and on our shared first love.
Now is the right time to refresh our understanding of our unique identity as Christians in a fallen world. As we have been reading Ephesians together over these last months, (a letter, remember, that was written to a congregation under pressure by external threats and deep internal differences), we have been given a very different vision of life together under Christ’s kingship. It is a vision that is characterized not by ego and the pursuit of power and influence, but by humility and mutual submission. Instead of coarse and untruthful speech we are instructed to speak words that build up and build on our shared identity as forgiven sinners in Christ, “one Lord, one faith, one baptism.”
The intersection of Christ’s authority and civil authority has always been complicated, regardless of the structure of that civil authority. It is certainly true in our own American context, and particularly so, given the fact that freedom from religious persecution had such a prominent place in our nation’s founding. But our identity as Christians does not readily fit us for life in our increasingly polarized American two-party political system, neither of which can claim to be the undefiled defender of the gospel. When I reflect on the priorities that I see in our Scripture, I find am not fully at home in either of our parties. Larry Hurtado, a Biblical scholar who taught at the University of Edinburgh, and who is the author of Destroyer of the Gods: Early Christian Distinctiveness in the Roman World, names four ethical concerns that are consistently taught through both Old and New Testaments: concern for the poor, an invitation without distinction to all tribes, nations, and races into life with God , sexual intimacy within the context of marriage, and opposition to infanticide (which extends to advocacy for the unborn). Given those four imperatives, why would I feel fully at home in either party? It’s not a sin or a crime to take part in a political party; let’s just be clear that such participation is never going to represent the full and faithful means and ends of the Kingdom of God and its gracious Lord, so our loyalty to any political party is always provisional.
Our first allegiance is to Jesus Christ as Lord. We may very well disagree about how best to live this out, but if we share that conviction, it is Paul’s hope (and mine) that the foundation will hold against the winds that are raging around us. So in this present moment, if we are Christians first, then we decry violence and destruction in whatever form it takes as a means to social change. If we are Christians first, the Kingdom of God takes precedence over allegiance to tribe, race, or nation, so there is no room for some hybrid that might be called Christian nationalism. If we are Christians first, and understand that every person, regardless of race, or class, or nation, is created in the image of God, is imbued with his or her own dignity, and is therefore worthy of our respect, and even our love, then there is no room for any sort of white supremacy, or any other supremacy based on some racial heritage. We are called to love our neighbors, even when they are our enemies, and not hate, or disparage, or persecute them.
This is not an exhaustive list by any means. These are just a few of the implications, in briefest form, of the radical declaration, that Jesus Christ is Lord.
After all, what really do we have to offer to the world? Only this: a witness that is shaped more by the power of the Holy Spirit, a Spirit of holiness and love, than by the cultural and political powers of the world around us. Paul’s exhortation in Ephesians is as valid for us today as it ever was: “Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”
“… as God in Christ forgave you.” Surely the place to start is in our own need for confession, repentance, and renunciation of our complicity in the current state of things. I love GK Chesterton’s reply to an invitation to respond in print to the question, “What is the problem with the world?” His answer: “Dear sirs, the problem with the world is me. Sincerely, GK Chesterton.” In that spirit, let’s begin by inviting the Lord to bring to mind the ways in which we have dishonored and disparaged those with whom we disagree, even within the body of Christ. And then to ask, “Where do I need to make amends?” And finally, “How best may I honor Christ in my own life, my words, attitudes, and actions, and how may I live so that ‘Thy kingdom come, and thy will be done’ in the world around us?”
And by all means, let’s pray for our country, for its leadership in both parties in this transition, and for what may perhaps be a fresh recognition of the dangers of the polarization that so infects our common life as a nation. Let’s pray for the upcoming inauguration next Wednesday, and for our next president, who surely needs a wisdom that can only come from the Lord. Even so, our hope remains, not in a new administration, but in the self-giving life and love of our Savior. May His light shine.
This is too long, but thank you reading.
In Christ,
Allan