I know better, and that’s why it is so frustrating that I continue to fail anyway. On Friday night, I had about a 50-minute drive to a hotel where I was staying outside Indianapolis for an event I was attending the next morning. The whole drive there I was listening to news reports and podcast takes on the news of the day, specifically the historic, uncomfortable clash between Presidents Zelenskyy and Trump. That night, I scrolled through my X feed where virtually everyone was discussing the same.
Vehemence, outrage, finger-pointing, and shaming were the emotions of the moment, defining most everyone who weighed in on the topic. Among Christians, there was the added layer of conscience-binding moral absolutism. Depending on which believer you asked, Christians are either cowards supporting a would-be dictator who is bleeding American taxpayers dry in order to sustain his vanity-induced global cosplay as “defender of democracies,” or they are cowards supporting a would-be dictator who is arrogantly sacrificing America’s moral credibility on the altar of his ignorant, stubborn ego.
Not that there weren’t other issues generating concern and consternation, say like the news that the notorious “Epstein List” that was sure to unmask the perverted degenerates placating our society likely either never existed in the first, or doesn’t exist any longer. But even Saturday morning as I walked into the venue, I was overwhelmed by the anxiousness surrounding the Ukraine calamity and the dread consequences it portends for all of humanity.
Then I walked into the auditorium and saw this:
That’s about 2,000 pre-teens (aged 10-12) singing a truth that I know, a truth that is to guard my heart, a truth that is to differentiate me in a world consumed with thrones and dominions, powers and positions.
Don’t misunderstand. This isn’t one of those, “the children will lead them” type of posts. Children weren’t leading this worship event. Faithful adults were in charge. Faithful adults who were too busy preparing songs, screens, games, skits, journals, activities, posters, and other materials all pointing to the greatness of Christ to spend the previous 24 hours worrying about the temporal foreign policy squabbles of our current moment. There I was walking in burdened by arguments over earthly kingdoms and these adults were leading children towards a much bigger, much better, eternal one.
MY RECENT COLUMNS:
A word about MAGA’s confusing new “big tent” February 28
It’s not unchristian to support the pause on foreign aid February 26
So much for safe, legal, and rare February 24
And the reason I’m writing and publishing this is because I doubt that I’m alone. I’m guessing there are more than a few of my fellow believers who need this reminder too. It’s not that Christians can’t have opinions about the issues of the day, or that they shouldn’t voice them. It’s that our testimony to the world should always be bearing witness to the fact that we are not consumed, preoccupied, or obsessed with the matters and methods of the world. We are laser-focused, for our sake and the world’s sake, on matters relating to a human soul’s response to his or her Creator.
When Jesus ascended to the Father’s right hand following His earthly resurrection, there were a million national and international issues impacting a dynamic and fluid political landscape. There were countless social problems, economic crises, and cultural injustices to be confronted. Christ didn’t discourage involvement in any of those enterprises, but He explicitly declared where His followers would be primarily engaged:
You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth. (Acts 1:8)
That’s how you change the world in a lasting way. It’s the revolutionary, mind-boggling, counterintuitive truth Christians know that the world finds absurd. It’s not international diplomacy, military strength, economic manipulation, or any other manifestation of earthly authority that changes the destiny of mankind. It’s through the preaching of Christ crucified and discipleship of those He’s saved.
I sat cross-legged with a handful of young kids around me and listened to 10-year-old Kaylyn read these words from her Bible in the sweetest, most innocent voice you can imagine:
For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)
Yes, we are. And that is what matters.
While many of His self-proclaimed followers bickered and backbit over the feud between two men temporarily wielding mankind’s cheap imitation of power and authority, I was in a room full of Kaylyns reading and learning Scripture and sang praises. I know which of them honored God, and I’m thankful for the reminder to go and do likewise.