What If God Doesn’t Want to Make America Great Again?

 

2016-07-16 14.16.41

Recently I received an email stating that if Christians don’t support Donald Trump for president we can “kiss our country goodbye.” It said something to the effect of, “Sure he isn’t all that decent, but if that’s what it takes for our economy to be strong, our borders to be secure, and our nation to be great, then so be it.” It suggested God sent us Trump to preserve our capitalism, our patriotism, and general way of life; that perhaps Trump is God’s tool to save our country.

I’m not going to comment on whether any of that is accurate or not, but the email did get me thinking…

What if God doesn’t want to Make America Great Again? Or maybe, what if God’s definition
of great looks a lot different than what many of us are hoping for? What if saving our country (whatever is meant by that) is not really what God has in mind?

I’m not saying that God wants to see America destroyed, but I’m wondering if we make some false assumptions when we think God wants us rich and safe or whatever other things people mean when they say they want America to be great again.

Set aside the fact that many of us will disagree on what actually makes our country great and consider why we think God wants us wealthy, secure, and politically free. Jesus was none of the above. Nor were his first disciples or the early church or many Christians around the world today. None of those things are promised to us. None of those things are neccessary to live a faithful life.

Have we become so attached to our stuff that we are certain God wants us to keep it? Have we become so accustomed to having a vote that we assume that’s how God orders the world? Are we so desperate for security that we are willing to compromise our most basic values to acheive it? And so opposed to our enemies that we are confident God hates them as much as we do?

If so, we are misguided. These things do not line up with the Gospels where I learn of a Jesus who says to welcome the stranger, forgive extravagantly, give radically, and do not resist an evil person (and love them instead). A Jesus who erases cultural and political and religious divisions.

Jesus who flat out says, “Whoever wants to be great needs to become a servant of everybody else.

But we have little time for that sort of greatness. “Be A Servant” isn’t an attractive campaign slogan. Not when we have elections to win and businesses to boycott and borders to secure. Jesus says his Kingdom is not of this world, but we would say our kingdom certainly is and, well, all that loving and forgiving stuff works in church, but this here is the real world.

And so we declare our allegiance. We choose earthly greatness and power and success and security over the way of the cross. We justify our lack of loving our neighbors because we have to protect our version of the American dream.  We cling to political liberty at all costs and find ourselves chained to platforms and politicians.

I’m not anti-American. I’m not an anarchist. I plan to vote in the coming election. I’m just not going to assume that God’s deepest desire for us is something as fleeting as prosperity or political freedom. I’m not convinced God is hoping we elect the proper candidate so he can finally get to work in our country.

While I strongly believe in “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” and want those things for all people (literally, all the people), I am not dependant on them. Nor do I think those are the highest things a person can acheive.

Not when our Savior started life as a refugee, lived under the military occupation of his enemies, spent his ministry years homeless, and was persecuted to the point of execution.

Not when the majority of our Scriptures were written to or about people with no freedom, no security, and no wealth. Peope who often neglected their faith whenever they had actually attained those very things.

And not when many of us are willing to ignore the teachings of Christ in order to make a nation great. If I can’t make America great by living the way of Christ, then I want no part in that greatness. And I don’t think God does either.

If we live and love like Jesus of Nazareth at the expense of privilege or safety, I believe America (and the rest of the world) will be greater because of it. Not because we have accumulated all the power and all the wealth, but because we have been faithful. Because being faithful to the way of Jesus is the only way to be truly great.

So inform yourself and vote if you feel so led. But long before and long after your ballot is cast, consider what things you are grasping for, what things motivate and excite you, and what things you assume God wants for you. And then compare them to the life of Jesus.

I imagine we will find we have spent a lot of time and money and energy and yard signs on a greatness that is at best temporary and at worst idolatry. We’ve been invited to something better than anything a politician can offer and we’ve been charged to live in such a way that it doesn’t ultimately matter where we reside or what we possess.

May we be faithful first. Even when the alternative sounds safer and more comfortable. May we choose Jesus and his cross today and every day. Even when it costs us elections and political power. And may we see the world become as great as its ever been.

 

The Politics of Palm Sunday

The masses were in a near frenzy on what would become known as Palm Sunday.

After centuries of oppression, abuse, displacement, corruption, and disgrace, they were finally hopeful. After being forced to pay taxes to pagan Caesar and shuffling past Roman guards on the way to the Temple, they were angry. After watching friends and neighbors turn their backs on the nation and their faith in pursuit of a buck or some political position, they were fed up.

On that Sunday the stories of a coming savior swept through the crowd. Could this finally be the promised one? Could he overthrow the bad guys? Could he restore our nation?

The people lined the streets as Jesus came in. They waved palm leaves, a symbol of military victory. They laid their cloaks on the ground and cheered. Longing for liberation, they threw him a conqueror’s parade in anticipation of what was to come. The people stood and shouted “Hosanna!” which means “Save us now!”

The crowds were ready, but they were ready for all the wrong things. They were ready for war and political gain. Ready for revenge. Ready to expel their enemies. They were ready for power. Wealth. Vindication.

But they weren’t ready for Jesus. Six short days later they would move from “Hosanna! Save us now!” to “Crucify him!” Jesus wasn’t the savior they were looking for after all.

Sometimes I wonder if we have failed to learn the lesson here. We seem to want the same things the crowd wanted. We still want a savior that looks more like Caesar than Jesus. We want strength and might. We want power and prosperity. We want the bad guys to pay. We have a thirst for political and cultural significance.

And, like them, I’m not sure we are ready for Jesus. We aren’t ready for his command to love our enemies. We aren’t ready to welcome the stranger. We aren’t ready to turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, or give to those who accuse us.

Too often we prefer stallions to donkeys, vengeance to mercy, power to servanthood. We applaud brashness and ego, while ignoring meekness and humility. We think it soft not to return evil for evil. And loving our neighbor as ourselves isn’t really the American dream so we focus on what is in it for us.

We, like those crowded on the street that day, are looking for the wrong kind of king and the wrong kind of kingdom.

Jesus isn’t interested in making Judea great again. His platform is not based popular opinion or national security. He is interested in a world that looks a whole lot different than one we see before us now.

A world where lions and lambs lay down together. Where swords are beaten into plow blades. He desires a world that isn’t divided by geography or nationality or culture. A world full of justice and peace. A world without selfishness.

It is a different kind of Kingdom led by a different kind of King. A King who lays down his life for his enemies. A King who carries our shame and guilt, our destruction and our death. A King who doesn’t do it for votes or donations or favors, but out of love and grace and selflessness.

This is a King who doodles in the sand rather than draw lines in it. He rejects “us and them” thinking. This is a King who is attracted to the lowlifes, the tarnished, the untouchable. He didn’t have the best of anything because he gave up his privilege and comfort. This is a King who lays down his rights, not demands them.

I’m not sure we are ready for a King like that. Because this King asks us, repeatedly, to follow his example. To have a King like that means letting go of all the things we naturally find ourselves fighting for. It means swearing allegiance to something broader than national boundaries and political parties. It means saying “no” to ourselves and being willing to forsake our own privilege and comfort and rights.

And it’s a hard sell. It doesn’t drive the masses into a tizzy. No one is outside hawking t-shirts and ball caps. There isn’t 24/7 news coverage. This kind of campaign seldom gets a parade or endorsements from movers and shakers. And yet it is exactly the kind of campaign we need.

May we remember that the crowds missed it that day. May we remember that their desire to have things set right looked a whole lot different than what God had in mind. May we not get caught up in the wrong things: anger, bitterness, division, violence, and a quest for power.

And may we not miss the man on the donkey who came to save the world from the very things we are chasing after.

Hosanna. Save us now, indeed.