When Freedom Is Fatigued

Galatians 6:1-16

As our country’s freedom is celebrated this weekend, I believe we’re called as people of faith to remember the painful truth of our history and to acknowledge that freedom has never been free. It has been and must continually be fought for.

Our remembering is especially important as history itself is under attack with a dangerous push to whitewash the truth.

Books are being banned, libraries are being closed, and words like “slavery,” “racism,” and “reconstruction” are being scrubbed from school curriculums like they never happened. And just last month, we saw the Juneteenth holiday denigrated by those in power complaining about Americans getting “too many days off.”

They want us to forget the truth and just move on, because if we forget the wounds, we might lose the urgency to heal them. And if we forget the cruelty, the brutality, and the inhumanity, they can more easily repeat it.

So today, we gather to remember the truth, and we do so in the name of Jesus, who proclaimed that it is the truth that sets us free (John 8:32).

Long before 1776, sovereign nations like the Monacans who lived on this land in harmony with the earth, had their lands stolen, and treaties were broken by the same men who would declare liberty and justice for all.

In 1776, while white men signed the Declaration of Independence,
Black people remained in chains, counted as property, not people.
And the pen that wrote “all men are created equal” didn’t write for women, the poor, and the indigenous.

Since then, the story of America has been a story of contradiction:
of beautiful promises and brutal practices; of high ideals and hard-hearted policies. And true liberty and justice for all has always been a struggle.

· It was a struggle when Harriet Tubman followed the North Star through the night leading herself and others out of slavery.

· It was a struggle when Frederick Douglass stood in pulpits and pointed out the hypocrisy of a slaveholding church.

· It was a struggle when Sojourner Truth asked, “Ain’t I a woman?”

· It was a struggle when immigrants crossed deserts and oceans to chase a dream—only to be met with discrimination, quotas, and cruelty.

· It was a struggle when laborers organized for a living wage.

· A struggle when LGBTQIA siblings stood at Stonewall and said, “No more.”

· A struggle when King, Lewis, Williams and others marched across Edmund Pettus Bridge on the day remembered as Bloody Sunday.

· A struggle when Cesar Chavez and farmworkers fasted for dignity in fields that fed the nation.

The truth is that freedom has never rolled in on the wheels of inevitability. As Dr. King said, it comes by struggle and sweat, by movement and by sacrifice.

And that’s why Paul’s words to the Galatians are so prophetically powerful today:

“Let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up.”

How appropriate are these words today, as those committed to the freedom of all people are, quite frankly, worn out.

We’re tired of begging for justice for the poor and the marginalized.

-Tired of the lies, the hate, the cruelty.

-Tired explaining why it is unfair to call poor people “lazy” and just plain mean to call them “parasites.”
-Tired of explaining why the dignity of LGBTQ persons is not up for debate.

-Tired of explaining why science is real, women’s rights are human rights and Black lives matter.
-Tired of sowing seeds of peace in a land still addicted to violence.

And this weekend Paul has a message for us:

Keep going. Keep working. Keep struggling. Keep sowing those seeds. Don’t grow weary. Because the harvest is coming.

So today, on this weekend of noise and nationalism, injustice and immorality, we gather to tell the truth:

-We’re tired of marching for justice while lawmakers pass bills to steal it.
-We’re tired of praying for peace in a nation that budgets more money for bombs than any nation on earth.
-We’re tired of hoping for change in a country that celebrates independence while restricting who gets to be free.

Today, freedom is fatigued, but the good news is, the struggle is not over. Because our faith is calling us to keep sowing, believing the harvest is coming.

And being exhausted today only affirms our faithfulness to the gospel, because gospel work is heavy work.

Jesus talked about the heaviness of the gospel when he criticized the Pharisees’ hypocrisy for playing lightweight religious games, tithing spices like mint, dill and cumin, while ignoring the weightier matters, the heavy matters of mercy and justice (Matthew 23).

For the gospel is not just about personal salvation. It’s heavier than that. It’s about communal transformation. We are called to confront sin, not just in the soul, but in systems. Because we are called to not just look after ourselves, but to carry each other’s burdens.

Verse 2 of our verse needs to be repeated today as many Americans who call themselves Christians and talk about bootstraps and personal responsibility seem to have forgotten it: “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way, we fulfill the law of Christ.” Bearing another’s burden, having empathy for others, says Paul, is the essence of what it means to be Christian.

And Christians today, not the Christians in name only, but Christians who fulfill this law of Christ, haven’t been this burdened in years.

And Paul’s message for us is to keep going, keep bearing those burdens, keep sowing those seeds, reminding us that we will one day reap what we sow.

Of course, we in America know all about reaping what we sow.

We elect leaders who sow division, declaring that they hate over half the people in the country, and then ask why we’re so polarized.

We sow billion-dollar weapons, and billion-dollar detention centers, and billion-dollar border walls, and then wonder why there’s no money for education and healthcare.

We sow exclusion and meanness, and do so in the name of God, and are shocked when young people leave the church.

So, we ask today:

What kind of country are we sowing?
What kind of church are we planting?
What kind of future are we tending?

If we sow silence when immigrants are deported, we will reap a nation with no conscience. If we sow tolerance for white supremacy, we will reap a church with no soul.

But if we sow solidarity, if we sow compassion, if we sow truth with love and justice, then we might just see the harvest.

In speaking of the harvest to come, how appropriate is Paul’s warning: “Do not be deceived. God is not mocked.”

Because another truth we must tell today, especially here in Lynchburg, Virginia, is naming the seed that’s continually mocking God and choking the harvest: the seed of White Christian Nationalism.

So many have been deceived into believing that this the Gospel of Jesus. When in fact, it’s the exact opposite. It’s the idolatry of race, the weaponizing of scripture, and the spiritual disguise of liberty that’s only for the privileged. It’s the heresy that says God loves America more than other nations, that straight whiteness is holiness, guns are sacred, and power matters more than people.

It wraps the cross with the flag, prays over injustice, and oppresses all the people Jesus would invite to a party. It anoints hate with holy water. It baptizes voter suppression, xenophobia, patriarchy, and LBGTQ bigotry and dares to call it “religious freedom.” But it’s far from freedom. It’s spiritual fascism dressed in red, white, and blue.

And Paul has a strong warning for those who have been deceived by such fascism: “God is not mocked.”

I believe that means that God is not fooled by the praise songs sung in a sanctuary of a church that turns its back on the oppressed.

God is not honored by churches that preach salvation but vote against food programs, health care, housing, and human dignity.

It’s not just bad theology—it’s deadly theology. And if we don’t name it and speak out against it, it will keep reaping violence, apathy, and war against the image of God in every non-white, non-straight, non-male, non-citizen body.

So, on this Fourth of July weekend Christians must say it clearly: We renounce the false gospel of white Christian nationalism. We will not grow weary naming it, resisting it, and working to plant something more beautiful in its place.

And Paul tells us exactly what we need to plant. Look at verse 15.

“For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything!”

Paul is talking about more pointless, lightweight religious stuff, saying it means absolutely nothing.

Worrying about how much foreskin one has is pointless when you couldn’t care less about the deeper wounds of others. Hanging the Ten Commandments on the Wall of a classroom is ridiculous when you refuse to feed the hungry children who sit in those classrooms.

America doesn’t need more lightweight, God-mocking religiosity. America needs something heavier. America needs a new creation.

A new creation where human dignity isn’t decided by documentation.
A new creation where education and health care are not luxuries.
A new creation where Black and Brown lives matter and queer kids live and thrive.

A new creation where people live like our ancient ancestors— in harmony with the earth, air, and sea.
A new creation where the church never bows to empire but always stands in solidarity with the least, the last, and the left out.

And Paul reminds us: We don’t get there by accident. And we don’t get there mocking God with religious hypocrisy. We get there by sowing it in faith and never giving up.

So, here’s the good news:

If you are exhausted today, it means you’ve been bearing a heavy burden fulfilling the law of Christ.
If you are tired today, it means you’ve been in the struggle sowing a new creation.
If you feel like giving up today, it only means you still care.

If your patriotism feels today more like fatigue than fireworks, you are on the right path.

And today, God has three words for you: Don’t. Give. Up.

Don’t give up on the child who needs your voice.
Don’t give up on the system that looks too broken to fix.
Don’t give up on the Church, even when it’s lost its moral compass.
Don’t give up on the movement. Don’t give up on the struggle.
Don’t give up on your calling, and never give up on love.

And know you don’t have to carry it all alone. Because we’re going to bear the burden together.

So, this weekend, while the nation celebrates its imperfect, incomplete freedom, we’ll keep sowing for the freedom that still hasn’t fully come.

And we will not give up. Because we know the harvest is coming.
And God will not let our labor be in vain.

So go, worn out but willing. March on, wounded but not defeated, stunned but not silent. Sow seeds of justice with trembling hands and tired feet.
And trust that the God who began a good work in us will one day bring home the harvest.

Amen.


Pastoral Prayer

O God of the long road and the tired feet,

You have seen every protest march, every underground meeting,

every whispered prayer beneath the weight of oppression.

You were with Harriet Tubman in the woods,

with the veterans of Selma on the bridge,

with the mothers crying at detention centers today.

This weekend, as a nation sings of liberty,

We are grieving, for we know the truth that not all are free.

We know freedom is more than fireworks and parades—

it is housing, it is healing, it is dignity, it is truth.

We grieve the cruelty of a nation that passes a bill soaked in injustice: that takes healthcare from the sick, food from the hungry, and dignity from the poor to fund tax breaks for the rich and concentration camps for immigrants.

We grieve, O God, for Texas Hill Country—where catastrophic floods struck on July 4 killing at least 51 people including many children, sweeping away cabins at a summer camp with 27 girls still missing.

May the families waiting in anguish feel your presence.

Give rescue workers strength, bring swift comfort,

and awaken in us a fierce call to care for our neighbors in every disaster.

We confess, God, that we sometimes grow tired of it all.

Tired of the suffering of this world. Tired of fighting the same battles.

Tired of speaking truth in ears that won’t hear.

Tired of watching laws be written that wound your people.

So, pour your Spirit upon us like a second wind.

Give us the courage to keep showing up—

to sow goodness, to bear burdens, to carry one another.

And give us joy that this labor is never in vain.

Make us co-creators of your new creation,

until the tired are lifted, the wounded are healed,

and the world becomes your Beloved Community. In the name of Jesus, our justice, and our rest. Amen.

 

Invitation to Communion

Jesus never promised an easy road, but he did promise a shared table.

At this table, the tired are welcomed, the wounded are fed, and no one carries the Gospel alone.

Here we remember that Christ’s body was broken not just for individuals,

but for communities—for the collective healing of the world.

If you are weary, if you are burdened,

if you are longing for a taste of real freedom—

come. All are welcome.

This table is for you.

 

Invitation to Give

Giving to this offering is not about guilt or obligation. It is about sowing.

And we reap what we sow.

When we sow into justice, we reap a more beloved world.

When we give with compassion, we build up the Body of Christ.

On this weekend when so much is spent on fireworks and celebration,

we invite you to invest in something eternal:

a love that serves, a truth that speaks, and a justice that marches.

Let us give, not out of surplus, but out of hope.

Not to keep the lights on, but to light the way.

Commissioning and Benediction

Go now, tired but unbroken.

Go now, weary but still willing.

Go now, and do not grow weary in doing what is right—

for the harvest is coming.

May the Spirit strengthen your hands.

May the Christ who bore our burdens walk beside you.

And may the God who is not mocked guide you into new creation.

Go in peace, go in power,

go in love—

and never give up.

Amen.

Free to Follow Jesus

Mark 6:6-13 NRSV

What a surreal Fourth of July this has been following the Supreme Court’s decision that Presidents who break our laws are immune to prosecution, that a president with a flawed character can do whatever they want to do and get away with it, if it is deemed an official act.

As outrageous as it is, I am afraid that this is how many in our country have always defined the concept of freedom. It is a type of freedom that serves the privileged and the powerful, as it figuratively, and sometimes literally, places shackles on all others. It is a type of freedom that is for some of the people and never for all the of the people.

Freedom (life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness) is part of our identity as a nation, a sacred concept for which blood has been shed. Yet, as history proves, it is a concept that is far from perfect.

History reveals a national economy built on the genocide of native people, slavery, Jim Crow laws, a denial of voting rights for women, and LGBTQ oppression.

For some with privilege and power today, freedom means the right to deny workers a living wage and the right to refuse service to people they find objectionable. They use the iconic Revolutionary War motto “Don’t Tread on Me” to express their disdain for their taxes being used to feed impoverished children at school or to provide SNAP benefits to the parents of those children.

For some, religious liberty means the right to hurt their neighbors instead of the freedom to love them. It is all about self-interest with no regard for others, especially minorities. Although they claim to be Christian, their beliefs and actions are most accurately described as “anti-Christ.”

The good news is (and oh how we need some good news today) I know many people who have committed themselves to follow the way of love that Christ taught and embodied—a powerful, liberating way of love that lets freedom ring for all.

I am looking at a whole room of people who believe with the Apostle Paul that we are called to freedom, not to indulge in our selfish impulses, but to serve one another in love, people who believe they are free, not only to love themselves, but to love their neighbors as themselves.

I am looking at a room full of people who are concerned with freedom for others as much as they are concerned with freedom for themselves, who believe freedom brings both the opportunity and the responsibility to serve and to stand for others, not simply to amass personal rights and privileges at the expense of others.[i]

I see people who have chosen to use their freedom to follow Jesus as disciples, people who are fulfilling what it truly means to be the church in an oppressive world, unlike some in the church today who are doing the exact opposite, actually supporting systems of oppression.

When I think about the purpose of the church, how the church should serve in today’s world, I am constantly drawn to Mark 6 and this account of Jesus sending the disciples into the world for the very first time to be disciples. So much so, it was the source of inspiration for our new expression of church in New Orleans that Lori and I were a part of.

In verse 6 we read:

6aAnd he was amazed at their unbelief. 

I wonder if Jesus would be amazed at the unbelief of some in the church today. Having been a part of the church my entire life, I know I am often amazed when I consider how many in the church do not seem to believe that we are called to live, love and serve in the selfless, sacrificial way of Jesus. Instead, they have accepted an individualistic religion where they “accept Jesus,” “receive Jesus,” “study Jesus,” and “worship Jesus”; not actually “follow Jesus.”

I wonder if Jesus is amazed by the number of people who believe the Kingdom of God is just some place we go to after we die, instead of something we are supposed to work at, to give of ourselves to, to pour ourselves out for, to sacrifice to create right here on earth. I wonder if Jesus is amazed every time people pray: “Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven,” and then don’t do a thing to make it happen!

6bThen he went about among the villages teaching.

Jesus was among the people, all the people, because Jesus was for all the people. Jesus went village to village teaching everyone that the most important thing we can do in this world is to love our neighbors as ourselves, and here in this text, we read that he expects his disciples to do the very same thing.

7He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. 

To me, one of the most disturbing political signs that I see in some yards today are the ones that say: “Jesus 2024 – Our Only Hope.” Not only do these signs support a dangerous Christian Nationalism making our Jewish, Muslim, and Hindu neighbors feel like second-class citizens, but they support an individualism that is opposed to the mission of Jesus as Jesus never intended to be on a mission to transform and save the world by himself. In what could be described as a call to democracy, Jesus called and gave authority and power to people to join him on that mission. He sent them out doing the very things that he did, some very big things like: challenging the unclean spirits: the spirits of war, selfishness, greed, poverty, all kinds of bigotry, and any type of oppression.

8He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. 

Freedom for many means the freedom to acquire and accumulate as much wealth as possible without any sense of responsibility to share any of that wealth. Jesus, however, calls people to live simply so they are able to give generously.

10He said to them, ‘Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. 11If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.’ 

 Jesus warns that if we teach others the importance of using our freedom to love our neighbors as we love ourselves, we will not be received by everyone. There will always be those who will choose to live solely for themselves instead of for others. But we should never let that discourage or stop us. We should peacefully but persistently keep moving forward, keep working, and keep doing what we have been called to do.

12So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 

Disciples go out and proclaim that all should repent of their selfish, self-centered, self-preserving ways and embrace a way of freedom that is far from individualistic, but a way of freedom that is profoundly connected with the well-being of everyone.

13They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

We are called to stand up and speak out against the evil forces in our world. We are called to restore and to heal. We are called to be a courageous, peace-making, justice-creating, evil-exorcising, hope-giving movement for wholeness in our fragmented world!

And today, perhaps more than ever, I am grateful that you with so many others are offering this world hope by answering this call, as we journey towards a more perfect union, realizing the truth that all people are created equal and freedom is for all.

In his Fourth of July email, prophetic preacher John Pavlovitz wrote the following:

It is highly probable that it will get much worse before it gets better. And yet, no matter how dire things become, we still have our hands and our voices and our gifts and resources and platforms and privilege and lives to leverage to make it less dire for someone.

I’m not writing to tell you how bad things are…I’m [writing] to remind you how good you are.

This is not about anyone else’s inhumanity. It’s about your humanity.

It’s not about one group of people’s cruelty. It’s about your empathy…

In some ways it doesn’t matter who is in the seats of power.

It doesn’t matter how horrible the legislation that gets passed.

It doesn’t matter how much the evangelical church rejects Jesus and his teachings.

It doesn’t matter how compromised the courts are.

It doesn’t matter how predatory the preachers or the politicians become.

That is almost irrelevant.

Their violence is not the point.

Your capacity for love is the point.

And that love is the only plan.

Pavlovitz continues:

So yes, we will grieve and lament the unthinkable news this week. We will feel the sickness on this holiday [celebrating] a freedom that feels as though it’s evaporating—and then, we will get on to the work of fighting like hell to make sure that it doesn’t. Be greatly encouraged.

Amen.

[i] Adapted from article by Rev. Dr. Brett Opalinski, Emory University Candler School of Theology

Patriotic Dis-ease

wiesel 3

Matthew 22:15-22 NRSV

Most preachers that I know are on vacation this week. One reason, of course, is that it the Fourth of July Weekend, a time when many Americans take a vacation. The other reason is that is the the Fourth of July Weekend, a time when preaching the gospel of Christ can be more than a little tricky. For isn’t this the one topic that we are supposed to try to avoid, religion and politics? I tried to be gone today. Let Shannon worry about preaching. But the beach house that we wanted was already rented this week.

Because what preachers would like to do on this day is to preach a feel-good, God-bless-America-baseball-hot-dogs-mama-and-apple-pie sermon. We want to stand beside the stars and stripes and deliver a sermon that will make us want to go home and set fire to some sparkers and sing I’m Proud to Be An American with Lee Greenwood.

However, despite our efforts, despite our studying and despite our praying, if we are to be true to the gospel of Christ, while at the same time trying to deliver a sermon that is culturally, socially and politically relevant, we know that it is simply impossible to preach such a sermon.

One day, Jesus was facing his critics. They asked him a question in order to entrap him.

“Jesus should we pay taxes to Caesar?”

Jesus says, “My pockets are empty. Who’s got a coin?”

Someone pulls out a drachma, with the image of Tiberius stamped on it.

“Whose picture is on it?” Jesus asked.

“Well, it’s Tiberius Caesar.”

Jesus says, “Well give it to him.  But you be careful.  Don’t give to Caesar that which belongs to God.”  End of lesson.

Here’s the frustrating part for me when I’m studying this: “End of lesson?” Did I miss something? Did Jesus ever really answer the question?  Should we pay taxes or not?

What belongs to Caesar? And what belongs to God? And wait a minute, doesn’t everything belong to God?

Do you feel the frustration?

Here’s the only conclusion that I can draw. And believe you me, it’s the one conclusion that preachers who want to preach a God-bless-the- good-ol’-U-S-of-A sermon do not want to draw this weekend. That is, when it comes to what belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God, when it comes when it comes to faith and politics, perhaps we are supposed to be frustrated. When it comes to matters of church and state, God and country, prophets and politicians, gospel and government, maybe Jesus wants us to be uneasy. When it comes to patriotism, maybe Jesus wants us to be at dis-ease.

As a follower of Christ, have you ever placed your hand on your heart and said, “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands,” and felt a little uneasy, a little uncomfortable?  During that pledge, have you ever thought, “wait a minute, my heart, my soul, my allegiance belongs to God, not Barak Obama!”

Have ever held out your hands and said the pledge to Oklahoma, and thought, “hold on a second, my fidelity is to Christ, not Mary Fallin!”

My hope is that is why some Christians got so riled up a few years ago when a judge ruled to take “under God” out of the pledge. The government is under God, a step below God. God and only God has our ultimate allegiance.

And maybe this dis-ease, this angst, this tension between heaven and earth, is exactly what Jesus wants to us to experience this weekend.

Let me give you two great examples of great patriots who experienced this patriotic dis-ease.

Thomas Jefferson never did possess the moral courage to liberate slaves, even though he knew that slavery was evil. Yet, before he died, as he considered the institution of slavery, as he thought about the slaves he owned, Jefferson said, “I tremble every time I remember that God is just.”  At least Jefferson had enough moral and ethical insight to be able to tremble.

Abraham Lincoln also trembled when he considered the paradox of war: using evil to end evil and the problem of God in the midst of it.  Speaking of the two sides of the Civil War in his second inaugural address, Lincoln said:

Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God’s assistance in wringing their bread from the seat of other men’s faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully.

Jefferson and Lincoln both understood something about patriotic dis-ease. Their service to their country was undeniably loyal. However, their loyalty, to their country in the light of God made them incredibly uneasy.

A Jewish Rabbi was speaking one day defending the Jewish position against hunting. “A good Jew never hunts,” said the Rabbi. We are permitted to kill animals, but never for joy, never out of pleasure. We can kill, but we only kill with regret.”

Someone responded to the Rabbi, “Regret?  Isn’t that a bit weak to serve as a basis of morality?”

“Don’t knock regret,” said the Rabbi.  There are some things that are not so much right or wrong as deeply, unavoidably, regrettable.”

So, maybe the message that Christian Americans need to hear, more than anything else, is that when it comes to patriotism, the most Christian response is one of regret or dis-ease.

Perhaps the greatest sin is not to care, to never tremble, to never regret, to be completely at ease, entirely comfortable when we are saluting the flag, singing the national anthem, or watching our fireworks. Perhaps the greatest sin is to be completely comfortable when we pay our taxes with the knowledge of the waste, the immorality, the injustice, and the inequality that is so much a part of our government.

Aushwitz survivor Elie Wiesel, who passed away yesterday, once reminded us, “The opposite of love is not hate. it’s indifference.”

Those of us who are trying to follow Jesus should never be indifferent. We must always be willing to speak out when we think our nation is wrong, and do what we can to rectify those wrongs, because our love for Christ is stronger than our affection for our country.

The prophets who spoke out against the injustices wrought by Israel and the disciples who were imprisoned for disobeying Rome, teach us about this uneasiness. Our allegiance to country never means blindly accepting our faults, never questioning our past, and never second-guessing how current policies will affect our future. Allegiance means faithfully doing our part working to “mend thine every flaw.”

It means being loyal, law-abiding citizens. However, it also means working to change laws that need to be changed. It means honoring our civic duty of voting in elections. However, it also means correcting elected officials who dishonor our nation.

As Christians, the Commander-in-Chief is not our chief commander. The Supreme Court is not our supreme being. Our allegiance is first pledged to something that is bigger than our nation, even larger than our world. We don’t give to the government that which belongs to God.

It is an allegiance that informs our vote, rallies our civic duties, and yet, sometimes calls us to civil disobedience. For the Christian, it is the God revealed through the words and works of Jesus who becomes our civil conscience. We believe the law of God revealed through Christ supersedes every human law.

Immediately following Paul’s words regarding good citizenship and obeying the law in Romans chapter 13, we read that every one of God’s laws is summed up in just one law: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus said it this way: “On this hang all of the laws of the prophets “…that you love your neighbor as yourself.”

And just in case some are still confused to what “love” is, Paul defines love by saying: “Love does no wrong to a neighbor.”

This is the law of God. Jesus said, “There is no law greater.” It is as if Christ is saying, “If you don’t get anything else from Holy Scripture, if you don’t get anything else out of going to church, you need to get this: ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’”

Yet, as evidenced by the amount of division, hatred, racism, and bigotry that is in our nation today, in government policies, even in the American church, this supreme law is widely ignored, disobeyed or rejected all together.

There is much talk today about Christians standing up and speaking out to take our country back, to reverse the moral decay of our society. I believe there is still hope for us to be a great nation; if we would only pledge our allegiance to the supreme law of God, giving to God that which belongs to God.

For when we love our neighbors as ourselves, when in everything we do unto others as we would have them do unto us, it quickly becomes “self-evident that all people are created equal with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.”

So, when the flag passes us by tomorrow, or when we pay our taxes, or vote, when we are asked to support some government policy, when we are considering the future of our nation, state, and city, our councils and agencies, schools and prisons, military and police, may we never be so comfortable that we  give to the government that which we ought to give to God.

Let us pray together.

When it comes to patriotism, O God, may we always tremble, may we always have some regret, may we always be at dis-ease, lest we give to the state that which we ought to give to you. Amen.

In God We Trust

in-god-we-trust-happy4

Hurricanes, disease, terrorism, war, recession, and bad religion surround us. Should we stress?  Should we panic?  Should we climb out on the ledge?

I guess it all depends on where we place our trust.

If we only trust Mother Nature, we will get wet, maybe even blown away.

If we only trust medical science, we might get a staph infection.

If we only trust the goodness of humanity, we will get disappointment and could get attacked.

If we only trust the government, we will never get to know peace.

If we only trust the stock market, banks, and free enterprise; well, we know what we’ll get.

If we only trust the church, we will certainly get hurt.

And if we only trust ourselves, we will get to be in need and always want.

However, if we put all our trust in the God who revealed God’s self through Jesus the Good Shepherd, we shall not want.

If we trust God who stilled the storms and fed the multitudes, we will get a restored soul on green grass beside still waters.

If we trust the God who bent down to wash another’s feet, stooped down to touch a leper, crouched down to forgive an adulterer, knelt down to serve the poor, we will get taught the paths of righteousness.

If we trust the God who wept at Lazarus’ grave and then spoke words of life, we will get light and hope in the shadowy valley of death.

If we trust the God who welcomed all to the table, especially the tax collectors and sinners, we will get a gracious banquet of acceptance, forgiveness and wholeness.

If we trust the God who spoke from the cross: “Forgive them,” we will get to look across the table and see a friend we once called an enemy, a sister or brother we once called a foreigner.

If we trust the God who identified with humanity, who is acquainted with human suffering, then we will get a comfort and a peace beyond understanding.

If we trust the God who turned 180 gallons of water into delicious wine, we will get a cup that overflows.

If we trust the God who would welcome a prodigal child home with an extravagant party consisting of a fatted calf, a robe and a ring, we will get goodness and mercy and a place in the house of the Lord forever.