Their Only Weapon, Kindness
In a world gone mad by deception, flights to power, and the ever-nearness of death, the Jesus Way remains a mystery hiding in plain sight.
I’m gonna start with the sad truth we are all sharing. Not because I relish it, but because we are all drinking from this cup of poison, and we all need the same cure. If you stay with me for the next several hundred words, I promise you; we won’t end where we began.
As of yesterday, the U.S. government has completed 13 executions in the past six months after 17 years without one. Eleven 747s worth of people die each day from COVID-19 in America. Enflamed vigilantes stormed the U.S. capitol in an attempt to overthrow the government last week. And every day, families are being torn in two over the insidious power of half-truths and conspiracy.
Church leaders weekly are exposed for narcissism, toxic leadership, and much, much worse. So-called evangelists host superspreader events around the country, believing that I Corinthians 13’s clanging symbols will overcome a world without love.
The exact people who are most loudly claiming the crucified Jesus's mantle daily lead followers into believing the worst about their ideological opponents. At the same time, Jesus’ call to love our enemies remains shredded on the cutting room floor.
The kingdoms of this world, both literal and figurative, have taken our hearts by force. We either grieve at the unending loss or act in complicity to the violence. Or most days, both.
Babel: The Unwanted Gift
In the age-old tale, the worldly-wise gather together to solve an Age's problems, not unlike our own. By the time we roll into Genesis 11, violence and death, hatred and division have run rampant over the known world. And not even a civilization-ending flood could wash clean the blood-stained hands of human accumulation.
A moment of unity fueled by a sudden advancement in technology inspires the leaders to take action. “Let’s make a name for ourselves.” This means to get an Instagram following and start charging big $$$ for those affiliate links in the modern language. In the ancient tongue, it simply means, let’s consolidate our resources so no one can take what’s ours.
The tale is old and new. We are still consolidating our resources so no one can take what’s ours.
The centerpiece of this centering of power is a tower to the heavens. A tower of Babel, which in the ancient cosmology means a portal between the power of the gods and the frailty of men. It’s not only the accumulated human power we want, but the Jesus stamp, the endorsement of heaven, or the Bible, or something in between like a teaching pastor, to tell us we have the right to be right and safe and good and defended from all outside harm. It’s a WWJD bracelet for sinful hands.
Religion has always been the greatest fuel for xenophobia, its incredible ability to keep “us” in and “them” out. Whomever “they” may be. When the nameless God, YHWH, a regional deity that would eventually be staked as the One and Only, discovers this misguided aim, he offers them the gift that feels like no gift at all: Confusion.
The rhythm of the ages is shame leading to self-determination, which leads to violence, leading to fear, which leads to the accumulation of power. Sometimes that power is a pipebomb in the Capitol rotunda. Sometimes it is a well-funded 401k. Sometimes it is a riot. Sometimes it is “orthodoxy.”
YHWH’s answer to this recurrent flight to power is confusion.
Confused As We Are
If one thing characterizes my conversations with people all across political and theological perspectives, it is an underlying confusion. Certainly, there are ideas and moments of over-confidence, but in general, the Gregorian chant of the 2020s remains the same:
“What can be done in such times as these?”
The 20th century with its MBAs and discipleship programs, led us to believe that a plan could be enacted. Surely Simon Sinek can give us our “why,” or Steven Furtick can give us the keys to overcoming or circumstances. Surely our well-trained contagious Christianity is a stronger virus than COVID-19.
Surely there is a tower to heaven.
But today, it seems we don’t even speak the same language anymore. All our best protestations and explanations ring hollow to people we’ve known all our lives. We’re not even particularly good at explaining ourselves to ourselves.
We used our best technology to build a world unified and connected. And that technology now sits in rubble while we scream at each other in foreign tongues. How can we build a kingdom in such a state? How can we ignite the power of heaven to endorse our preferred way?
Confused as we are?
Into the Confusion, A Voice
Jesus thrived in two places: the wilderness and the garden. In the wilderness, he was pruned to his core. He aligned to His union with God. He brought the refinement of the wilderness, with all its bloody sweat, into the garden. And there he faced the tower of Babel of his time.
A union of religion and power. A conflation of government and goodness. Even with an army of servants at the ready, he sends them away confused. Unwilling to let them fight. Unwilling to let them complete the tower with blood on their hands. His followers scattered like Babel’s makers.
The Gateway to Heaven stands alone, dismantling towers, throwing temple mounts into the sea, clearing the land for gardens to grow.
“My field of power is not from your world. If my power came from your world, my lieutenants would be here fighting to win your game. They would wave their swords as you do, in the hopes of keeping me from you. I am only a “king” because that is a word that you need. Out of your confusion, you need to give me names like yours. What I am is a disclosure. A revelation. A clarity. And everyone who loves reality, who wishes to dispel the confusions of this world, will understand my language.” - Jesus, John 18:36-37
“What is Reality?” - Pilate, the Gaslighter
A Towerless World
If I were to abuse the metaphor, I would say that the great question of our time is, “Whose tower will win?” For Christians, particularly white evangelicals, the question is often, “Will Jesus’ tower win?” And out of a fear that it may not, we rally our soldiers to defend it. Maybe you don’t feel particularly attached to that ideological tower. Maybe it is political or regional or simply wanting to put a permanent tower of protection around your “way of life” or family.
But if the God we follow is surrounded by soldiers, warriors (culture and otherwise), then it is not Jesus’ God. Jesus’ God is not the god of noise and babble. A clamoring for rightness and position. He is not the God of nooses or swords.
Jesus is God in confusion. Jesus is a God in ruins. The ruins of all the Babels, and empires, and constitutions we’ve built and worshipped.
Jesus is a God in silence where kings name Him as King to make him a peer. A partner. Or a worthy enemy of the state. Someone worth crucifying.
Jesus reigns in a towerless world, where power is not accumulated but disseminated, where we don’t build walls but bridges, where we trade the false security of swords for the slow plod of plowshares through spring’s cold soil.
In Jesus’ world, His followers are His friends. And He discloses to them the old magic, time’s deepest secrets. From the mountains to the valleys, from the w’ wings to the whispers on the wind, He brings to light the beauty that can only come in the silences.
His followers walk forward with torn hems and undefended hands. They come with their only wisdom, foolishness, and their only weapon, kindness. In this dark world and all the ones before it, you will not know them by their flags or Instagram bios. You will know them by their love.
Because so many are spiritually homeless and feel as if no one understands what they feel, if this speaks to you, I encourage you to share, comment, engage, and (if you haven’t done so) subscribe.
There is a place for the unsure. And those forever trapped between doubt and faith. You are welcome here.