The Great Disconnect…

Whose kingdom do we represent?

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

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Rod Serling (remember Twilight Zone?) wrote a speech, A Most Non-Political Speech, delivered by Dick Van Dyke, on May 31, 1964, to some 60,000 people at the Los Angeles Coliseum—an evening called, A Witness for Human Dignity. Among the presenters was Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The opening line: “Ladies and gentlemen, this may be the most non-political speech you ever hear.”

I want to paraphrase that opening line: “Ladies and gentlemen, this may be the most non-political blog I ever write.”

Our Reason for Being

The glory of God manifested in creation—in humanity… God so loved the world (κόσμος—cosmos). Love poured out through the blood of Christ once for all time—once for all people. Transported from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of light. Redeemed from sin, death, and judgment; redeemed to new life… freedom to breathe, enjoy, and walk in the light (not a geographical challenge, not just a daytime activity). Dreams reoriented to defer to the will of the ONE who bought us… Purchased for a new purpose: From self-serving to God-and-people-serving… From vagabonds to ambassadors… Our baseline: Communicating the Gospel of Jesus Christ—the invitation to be reconciled with God. It’s the message we have received from the ONE who bought us and is meant to be heard by EVERYONE.

So, we are in the world but not of the world… Citizens of the only kingdom that matters now, or will matter in eternity… Citizens now of HIS kingdom, whose rules for living mean a paradigm shift in our thinking and actions. With love, joy, and words of hope—for all humanity… Eyes wide open—facing the human condition common to everyone in the world… It looks like the narrow way… the only way open to us. This Way was lived out, then mandated, by the same ONE. It is outlined in The Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5-7. His way is love, nonviolence, forbearance, humility, meekness, forgiveness, prayer for enemies, and the absence of mockery, insults, vengefulness, and reprisal—in our speech, in our actions, and even in our hearts… including in the face of threats, mistreatment, injustice, and, yes, even martyrdom.

Life would shrivel us; HE would enlarge us. Life would harden us; HE would soften us, make us tenderhearted, hospitable, empathetic, compassionate… If we ask ourselves, “Who is our neighbor?” we’ll get the answer right. Available, accessible, and always full of hope… awaiting “the days of those kings” … “And in the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed, nor shall the kingdom be left to another people. It shall break in pieces all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, and it shall stand forever” (Daniel 2:44, ESV)

The Great Disconnect

Add up all the ways we have not conformed to HIS teachings, and we get an inkling of how our witness has been compromised. The gap between what we know and what we apply happens in the heart. It’s always been there. When left unchecked, it overrides our best intentions and weakens our witness.

We may be better at noticing the disconnect in familiar surroundings, neighbors, and relationships or when we look in the mirror. When considering broader issues like the big picture, church history, nationhood, politics, patriotism, international relations, wars, genocides, immigration, famine, etc., we display a disconnect on steroids.

History reveals the dark underbelly of a “Christian” vision polluted by marriage to power and state—no exceptions. Where do holy wars, crusades, and inquisitions come from? When a “Christian” religion is imposed as a nation’s religion, beware. Protecting the integrity of a country will include keeping other people out—even though its borders are manmade and not of divine origin. What about the spin and symbolism invoked to assert its legitimacy? They’re not of divine origin, either. So, as this vision is imposed, intolerance, fearfulness, defensiveness, and aggression emerge.

Three fundamental questions:

1. Which kingdom has our allegiance?

2. How is our witness to people—any people?

3. How is our witness as part of the earthly nation where we reside?

βασιλεία (basileia) is the Greek word for kingdom—and God has one. It stands alone and above all the kingdoms of the earth. The kingdom of God cannot be reached by earning a spot there. We can’t buy our way in or stroll in just because we feel like it. “Unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” (John 3:3, ESV) Coming to Jesus: it’s a spiritual birth that transforms us. Our reason for being is radically altered.

So, where is our citizenship now? “But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.” (Philippians 3:20-21, ESV)

At some point, we must choose: Whose kingdom do we represent? Which one will matter in eternity? Which one has our heart and our loyalty? Bodies transformed to be like his glorious body, power to subject all things unto himself… There is so much more at stake than who will occupy a government office for a few years.

Over forty years outside the United States—four years in Central America, the rest in Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula—foreigner, gringo, missionary, pastor—made us careful to avoid choosing sides in partisan politics. It would have drawn the wrong kind of attention to us.

Rumors about us would have quickly spread—as could happen even without substance. I recall a time when a local wanna-be ran for mayor in Cancun. He claimed to be a Christian and sought things for the betterment of his people—and himself. I was surprised one morning when I mentioned our home and church to someone. They replied with conviction and disdain, “Oh, I know where that is. That’s the mayor’s church.” Of course, we never knew the guy.

Even after being granted permanent residence status, we were still guests. By choosing a side in an election cycle, we would have alienated the other sides—and there were always a few. We would have looked like we had our hand out for material gain, just like the rest. But more importantly, doors for our Gospel witness would have closed for all the wrong reasons.

Well, now I reside in a temporal space known as the United States of America. I am a guest here as well. I dare not be partisan. That’s not why God has me here. I don’t have permission to alienate any people from an opportunity to hear the message of the Gospel just because I have a political opinion, espouse a conspiracy theory, or have my hand out for material gain, just like the rest.

Xenophobia is “an unreasonable fear or hatred of foreigners or strangers.” It’s an inevitable consequence of nation-building. We pigeonhole people by groups. Tagging people with demeaning labels becomes an art form. We dehumanize them. Sometimes, we go so far as to define a group as “The Enemy.” Even people who profess to be Christian end up acting like xenophobes. It’s an unbecoming trait in a follower of Jesus.

Maybe there is some spiritual blindness to blame. Nations—including ours—have been doing this to each other since the Fall. Historically, building walls has never worked well. Wanting to keep immigrants out seems hypocritical. Everyone here—except maybe the indigenous people we displaced—have immigrants in their family tree.

I am a citizen of a different kingdom. The one I belong to is governed by a set of rules that temporal nations care little about. Representing the Kingdom of God should look radically different. If we followed the Good Shepherd’s example, we would be uncompromisingly hospitable, welcoming, loving, shepherding, and constantly aware of our “Reason for Being.” Through us, people—even immigrants—will hear the Gospel’s invitation into the Savior’s rest:

“In that day the root of Jesse, who shall stand as a signal for the peoples—of him shall the nations inquire, and his resting place shall be glorious.” (Isaiah 11:10, ESV)

Bellicosity is “a warlike or hostile attitude.” It’s another inevitable consequence of nation-building. But for us, there is much more at stake than the health and defense of a nation. Earthly kingdoms are temporal—they always perish. As believers in Christ, we are citizens of God’s eternal kingdom—it will never perish.

Tying our Christian witness to a flag is a mistake. It’s not just an unholy marriage. It spawns a devastating witness around the world. Multitudes of people have an entirely unnuanced perception of the United States. Their reasoning goes no further than this: “The bullets, bombs, and rockets killing my people come from the United States. How can they say theirs is a loving god? Why would we want to know a god like that?”

Two glaring problems with bellicose measures regardless of how we justify them:

1. Violence always breeds more violence. By doing some of what we do, we guarantee it will come home to roost in our backyard—and on our heads.

2. Our underlying call to ministry is the antithesis of bellicose postures and actions. “Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us. We implore you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.” (2Co 5:20, ESV)

Restoring Congruency

Congruency is “the quality or state of agreeing, coinciding, or being congruent.” Are we what we say we are? If we are serious about repairing the disconnect, I can think of a few avenues to pursue.

Our eyes may be on the wrong prize. We might be caught up in secondary skirmishes distant from the main theater of battle. “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12, ESV) I doubt we will win much with weapons less potent than the Gospel and prayer. Plus, the victory we seek will be final, achieved without our help, and with the best outcome imaginable! “After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands,” (Revelation 7:9, ESV) I thought about wearing white robes now and stocking up on palm branches for daily use. But maybe I should wait until I get there.

Our eyes need to see the multitudes. No matter which people groups we look at—or where we see them—followers of Jesus ought to see them just like Jesus sees them. “But when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion on them, because they fainted, and were scattered abroad, as sheep having no shepherd.” (Matthew 9:36, KJV)

Back to Mr. Serling and the main point of his speech: "This must be first, the recognition, and then the admission—that the dignity of human beings is not negotiable.” His path to that conviction may have differed from mine, but our heartfelt conclusion is the same: Every human is worthy of dignity, fair treatment, and respect. His approach appears to have been as an optimistic evolutionary humanist. Some viewed the passing of the Civil Rights Act as another nudge up the ladder in humanity’s evolutionary journey. I think my reasons for recognizing the dignity of every human being are more compelling. That’s because of who God is, what he has done for us—for all of us—and his motive for doing so. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16, ESV) We are made in his image; we are redeemable because of the shed blood of Christ. Who does God love less than us? No one! All are to be the object of our compassion, ministry, and witness.

The sonnet on display at the Statue of Liberty should prompt us to reflect:

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The New Colossus
By Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

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Empty symbolism? Meaningless propaganda? Maybe we should display this sonnet on our public-facing church signs. Maybe Christians and patriots should want to.

And finally, a refrain from a song that, for me, evokes tears of empathy and heartfelt compassion for the stricken, the wailing, the victims, the disenfranchised, and the lost:

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Oh whisper me words in the shape of a bay
Shelter my love from the wind and the rain
Nostalgia by Emily Barker

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Isn’t that precisely what Jesus wants to do for people?

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:28-29, ESV)