Citizens of Another Kingdom
I don't usually post sermon manuscripts on the blog, but since we're talking about some timely topics (i.e. politics), and since I had a request for the manuscript, I figured I'd make this and next week's publicly available. Do note that these are unedited cut-and-pastes, so I'm sorry if there's any errors.
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Texts: John 18:33-38, Philippians 3:18-21
Download Sermon Audio
Texts: John 18:33-38, Philippians 3:18-21
Introduction
So, I don't know if
you've noticed, but there's an election that's about to happen in a
few weeks. And even more shocking, there are some people out there
who have opinions about it.
I joke, but seriously.
The last... well, the last year and a half, actually, it seems like a
political fever has swept the country. Which is does every four
years, I guess, but maybe this one has felt particularly pronounced.
And some of you keep wanting to have political discussions with me.
Which has been challenging, because I'm very committed to the idea
that pastors and churches should avoid endorsing or supporting
particular candidates or political parties. Which I know is a relief
to some of you and a frustration to others.
That said, political
questions seem to be on everyone's minds. So this morning and the
next two weeks, we're going to talk about politics. But not in that
way. I'm not breaking that commitment. I'm not going to tell you who
you should vote for, or how I'm voting. I'm also not going to do that
things where I tell you without telling you. You know what I mean.
Like when I get these magazines from “nonpartisan” Christian
political groups that say, “Here's candidate A, who believes
everything Jesus does, and candidate B, who wants to crucify
Christians and feast on their young. But we're not going to tell you
who to vote for. You decide.”
In fact, there are a
number of reasons I don't think that's an appropriate thing for a
church to do. First, because it goes beyond the church's authority.
Endorsing, or quasi-endorsing, political candidates or parties goes
beyond the church's authority. One of the distinctives of being
Protestant, of having a theology grounded in the Reformation, is a
commitment to the idea that the power of the church is ministerial,
not judicial. Ministerial, not judicial. Which is a fancy way of
saying that the church is to declare and teach what Scripture says,
but never to make judgment calls for people that go beyond what it
says.
It's not that the bible
should have nothing to do with how people vote. In fact, it should be
foremost on our minds. But the bible says, for example, “you should
seek justice and care for the poor.” That's what the Bible says.
The question of politics is “how should we do that?” Is it
through a smaller government that stimulates job creation and private
charity, or through strengthening of social safety nets and
opportunities, or some combination of parts of the two? And that
decision, which you have to make in politics, isn't spelled
out in Scripture. It requires us to add some other decisions about
things like economics and sociology. And I believe, and Martin Luther
and John Calvin and all those people who founded Protestant
Christianity believed, that once you're on ground that requires you
to add a bunch of your judgment calls to the clear teaching of
Scripture, that the church needs to stay silent. Because otherwise it
was presuming to speak for God where He hadn't spoken.
So part of the reason the
church shouldn't take partisan stances is that it just doesn't have
the authority to do so. And part of the reason is because it actually
breaks the unity of the church. There are passionate Republicans and
passionate Democrats who both love Jesus and are knowledgeable about
the Bible and are seeking to live lives in conformity with Christ.
There are. If we don't believe that sentence, we need to check our
hearts, because it means we have elevated party loyalty above Jesus
as a test of who can be a true Christian.
And that is tragic,
because one of the saddest things that has happened in America is
that those passionate people in both parties have stopped respecting
and talking with each other and instead just started yelling and
name-calling. And I want the church to be a place that pushes against
that, where we can actually dialogue and learn and grow and disagree
within the love and unity of the Spirit. Because if the church can't
be that place, then seriously, there's nowhere left.
So those are both part of
why I don't think churches should support one party or candidate in
an election. But the main reason, far bigger than both of those, is
actually what we find in our text this morning. It is wrong for
pastors to endorse candidates or for the church to identify with
political parties because it actually violates what Scripture says in
places like the two we read today. When the church supports any
earthly political institution, it is confusion the kingdoms. It is
confusing the kingdoms.
In our first text, we see
Jesus before Pilate, the prefect of Judea, where Jesus is
ministering. And this is an age of revolution, and those accusing
Jesus are trying to make Him out to be a revolutionary who is trying
to overthrow the Roman government. And so Pilate asks Jesus, “Are
you the King of the Jews?” (33)
And Jesus responds in
verse 36, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants
would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my
kingdom is from another place.”
We can fail to appreciate
Jesus's reply because kings are not something we're used to. We hear
about kingdoms and that sounds foreign, alien.
But “kingdom” in the
Bible simply means “political unit.” A kingdom is what governed a
nation. So we could just hear what Jesus says in other
ways. Pilate wants to know Jesus's political loyalties, and he asks, “Are you a Republican or a Democrat?” And
Jesus replies, “No, I'm a Christian.” Pilate might seek to know Jesus's allegiances and ask, “Are you an American?”
And Jesus says, “No, I'm from another country. God's
country.”
So Jesus insists that,
while He is a king, His kingdom, His country, is somehow different
and separate from every country in this world. From Judea, and Rome,
and America. And that gets even more shocking when you consider how
Paul appropriates this same image in our second text, from
Philippians. As he says in verse 20, “But our citizenship is in
heaven.” Our citizenship is in heaven.
Again, we need to hear
that right. Paul is not saying that some day, when we die, we will be
citizens of heaven. Heaven exists right now; it is how the Bible
describes that invisible reality running alongside ours where God is
on the throne and Jesus reigns. It is present tense – our
citizenship is in heaven right now. And the word citizenship, which
Paul uses, is just as loaded with political and legal meaning in his
world as it is in ours. If we are Christians, we are in truth
citizens of the United States of Heaven. Period. That's where our
allegiance ultimately lies.
Now none of that means
that we aren't supposed to be citizens in a sense of
the countries where God has placed us right now. We who live in the
U.S. are to be a part of America, to vote and serve it and have an
appropriate patriotism. We live out our calls to love our neighbors
and obey God in this
time and place. We're going to talk more about that next week.
But
we have to do all of that with a clear sense that our true
citizenship and allegiance and nationality is elsewhere. It is in
God's country, not this one. As Jesus puts it in John 17, we are to
live as if we are not of this world, just as Jesus is not of this
world.
So
that's the idea – that while we will live and act and have opinions
and vote as a part of America, that we as Christians are to live as
if our ultimate citizenship is elsewhere. America is no more the
kingdom of heaven than Rome was. Which doesn't mean there aren't
great things about it – I love America in so many ways. I do - it's great. But it does
mean that, in the Biblical scheme, it is just as much a part of the
earthly kingdoms as were Babylon or Egypt. And we
have to live in it always being mindful of that fact, never confusing
our temporary living place with our true country.
All
of that being said... what does that mean for us? What does it look
like to live as citizens of heaven? In particular, how does that
shape the way we engage with the politics of this world? I think, if
we reflect on these two passages, we get at least three lessons.
Because our citizenship is in heaven, I think Jesus would tell us:
don't buy in, don't panic, and don't lose hope. Don't buy in, don't
panic, and don't lose hope.
Don't Buy In
First, don't buy in.
The first thing that our citizenship in heaven means is that we have
to remain skeptical of and separate from the promises that this world
makes us. And that includes the promises of those in power.
On the one hand, this is
because they will sell you lies. The world will sell you lies.
Paul in Philippians 3 describes these people he calls “enemies of
the cross of Christ.” And importantly, these people he's talking
about are probably Christians, false teachers trying to lead the
sheep astray. And in verse 19, this is his description of them:
“Their destiny is destruction,
their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame.
Their mind is set on earthly things.”
Paul
isn't just being rhetorical here. He's actually trying to say
something about what's wrong for these people. First he talks about
their destiny – that word could be translated as “goal” or
“ambition.” They're seeking after this great thing, they say, but
actually that thing is destruction. Then their god – they hold this
thing up as worthy of worship, but really it's just what they're
putting in their bellies. And their glory, their splendor – it is
actually shame. They've convinced themselves that they're seeking
these great things, but it's really a lie.
That,
in Scripture, is always how the world works. It's always how the
kingdoms of this world work. They sell you these great promises, a
hope and a future. But it's a lie. The things they offer can't give
you the happiness or peace or security or meaning that they promise.
Application:
One
of the great dangers in all political systems is what is called
utopianism. Utopianism. This promise that, if we could just give all
the power to one group, if one party could just fully pass its
agenda, the world would be perfect and all would be well.
Both
American political parties try to promise versions of utopia.
One
party promises that, if we could just have a big enough military and
an unrestrained enough intelligence service and a strong enough
police force, that we could have real security. That if we removed
enough regulation and lowered enough taxes, we would have unending
prosperity. That if we put the right people on courts and teach our
kids the right values, we would see Christianity flourish.
The
other party promises that, if we could just educated people enough
and give them enough resources, that we could have real equality.
That if we had enough regulations and built good enough
bureaucracies, we could end injustice. That if we gave everyone
enough freedom and outlawed enough hate, that people could live
together in peace and love.
But
both of those visions are, ultimately, lies. Not that they might not
do some good things, or that one might be better than the other –
that's part of what you decide when you vote – but those visions
cannot promise you what they claim. There is no way to have true
security in a world broken by sin. There is no way to educate people
out of their crooked hearts. Prosperity and peace will always be
fleeting in this age.
The
best those visions can offer us is something marginally better than
the alternative but still destined to perish – it is more
comfortable beds and more polished brass rails on the Titanic. And we
cannot buy in, lest we miss the reality – that in the end the ship
is going to sink.
Explanation (cont.):
That's
the problem with buying into those visions. The problem with buying
the lie is that it ultimately costs
us the truth. It costs us
the truth.
There
is this fascinating interchange between Jesus and Pilate in John 18.
Look at verse 37:
“You are a king, then!” said Pilate.
Jesus
answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was
born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone
on the side of truth listens to me.”
“What
is truth?” retorted Pilate. (John
18:37-38a)
Jesus
has said His kingdom is not of this world, and Pilate immediately
siezes on this “Aha!,” he says. “You are a king.” Remember,
the question in this trial is whether Jesus is a political threat.
That's what Pilate's trying to determine – whose side are you on?
Mine, and Rome's? Or those fighting for independence?
And
Jesus's reply is, in essence, “Neither.” He says, “I'm on the
side of truth.” And Pilate, in a telling moment, asks cynically
“What is truth?”
If we
are going to be comfortable citizens on earth, to buy into the
promises of an earthly kingdom, that is going to cost us the truth.
We will have to compromise our Christian faithfulness to do it.
Because parts of this world are always opposed to the kingdom.
Application (cont.):
I
mentioned at the beginning that I'm really opposed to Christian
leaders endorsing candidates or positions. On a practical level, this
is a big part of why. Because it often forces them to compromise
Christian values in a very public way.
The
problem isn't that they're voting for a person who doesn't share all
their Christian values. We're basically always going to do that. The
problem is that they make that candidate “their guy” or “their
girl.” They launch into full-throated support of them, and that
means they avoid, or even deny, the ways in which their candidate is
failing to live up to Christ's standards. And this is a huge problem.
It's
a huge problem because it destroys the church's credibility. When our
candidate is doing or saying something unbiblical and we treat that
as no big deal, we have communicated to the world that being biblical
itself is no big deal. We communicate to the world that our Christian
convictions are fine, but that they're not nearly as important to us
as getting our person into office.
And
it's so easy to excuse. We tell ourselves that the other person is so
bad that we have to just rally around our guy or girl. It would be
such a disaster if they won, we will overlook all kinds of sin. That
being honest about our candidate's personal sins or unbiblical views
might cost them the election. And it might cost us the election. But
there is no election worth our souls or our witness. No earthly king
that is worth abandoning the truth of God.
Our
commitment as Christians should always be to the truth. And that
means we should name evil as evil wherever we see it. That is a
responsibility that comes before any political considerations. And
that means we have to name and condemn evil even when it comes from
the person we support. Especially then, because it's when we'll be
most tempted to keep silent.
Don't Panic
So,
because Jesus's kingdom is not of the world, we need to ensure that
we don't buy into the promises this world offers. But there's another
thing I think it means for us, and that is this: Don't panic.
Don't panic.
I
love the scene of Jesus before Pilate because of how
counter-intuitive it is. Think about it. Jesus is facing his
execution. Pilate is the one who has the power to kill Him. Yet what
is Jesus's attitude? Does He seem afraid? Not in the least. In fact,
it seems like Pilate is a little bit fearful. He doesn't know what to
do with this guy. This guy who says he's a king of an invisible
kingdom, a kingdom of truth.
One
of the constant refrains of Scripture is that we are not to be
afraid. That's true generally – we are not to live in fear. But it
is especially true of how Scripture says we should deal with the
political world around us. We are not to let the powers of this world
make us afraid.
This is Moses's words to
Joshua as he prepares to die: don't be afraid of the nations that
would seek to harm you. “Be strong and courageous.” Moses says.
“Do not be afraid or terrified because of them [the nations], for
the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake
you.”
(Deuteronomy 31:6)
This is what the
Psalmists say, over and over, when they think about the nations of
the world:
The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid.
What
can mere mortals do to me?
The
LORD is with me; he is my helper.
I
look in triumph on my enemies.
(Psalm
118:6-7)
Perhaps most strikingly,
this is what Jesus says, very memorably, in Matthew 10:28: “Do not
be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.
Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in
hell.” (Matthew 10:28)
That passage is really
key. Jesus is contrasting fear of things in this mortal world with
fearing God. He's saying that you can really only do one or the other
– you can recognize God's awesome power, and tremble, but be secure
that He is ours. If you recognize that, the power of the nations
isn't nearly as scary.
Application:
This is so important when
we think about our political lives. Because our politics are all
about fear. All about fear.
I mean, think about it.
When was the last time there was a Presidential race and one
candidate said something like, “I believe my opponent, although
thoughtful and qualified, holds certain misguided positions that will
result in marginally lower growth rates and marginally higher crime
rates than my other, still imperfect, but better positions.” Nobody
says that. They say, “This person is destroying America. They'd be
the end of democracy. It would be mass poverty and roving gangs and
maybe nuclear war if they're elected.”
Every politician, in some
sense, builds their bid for power on fear. It's really the
counterpoint to what we said above. If you buy into their dreams,
that suddenly opens you up to the nightmare of losing them. They
promise you great things, and then they tell you, “If you don't
vote for me, well, then the unimaginable will happen.”
And the problem is, a lot
of us buy into this. This fear gnaws at us. We live in this sort of
constant low-grade anxiety about the future, feeling like the world
is poised on the precipice, about to topple over it. Which is
actually a really bad and painful way to live.
Now, in the first place,
it's just worth noting that those fears aren't usually grounded in
reality. I know this because I remember people selling me those exact
same fears four years ago, and eight, and twelve and sixteen and
basically before every election since I could put two sentences
together. This is always the crucial moment, and if things don't go
our way, America and freedom are always in jeopardy.
To drive that point home,
I've just got to share this. Here are a couple of quotes from another
Presidential election. One candidate's supporters said that, should
his opponent be elected, “Murder, robbery, rape, adultery and
incest [being] openly taught and practiced, the air will be rent with
the cries of the distressed, the soil will be soaked with blood and
the nation black with crimes. Female chastity violated [with]
children writhing on a pike.”
The
other candidate responded by saying his opponent was “a hideous
hermaphroditical character with neither the force and firmness of a
man or the gentleness and sensibility of a woman." He said his
election would mean “tyrrany” and “the end of the
constitution.”
Those quotes were from
the election of 1800. That's what our illustrious founding fathers
John Adams and Thomas Jefferson thought about each other. Which is to
say, selling fear has been baked into things from the beginning.
That said, it's not just
that the panic politics inspires is overblown. It's actually
anti-Christian. What Christianity says is something more than that it
is misguided. It says, in effect, “So what if they're right? So
what if their worst-case scenario does come true?”
Even if the worst comes,
God is still on the throne. He is still in control. His love and His
plans in the world are in no way dependent on us filling in the
correct bubble on a ballot. He is still building His kingdom and
working good for His children, the gospel is still the power of life
and Jesus is still reigning from His heavenly throne, regardless of
whether things go the way we'd like them to on November 8th.
And even if the worst
comes, it can't touch our inheritance. One of the beautiful realities
of being citizens of heaven is that we aren't subject to the
uncertainties of earthly rulers. If our identity and security rest
with God, we don't have to be afraid. As the Psalmist said, “The
LORD is with me... What can mere mortals do to me?”
Which, again, doesn't
mean there aren't certain things we should work for and do in this
time and place. But it frees us from doing them fearfully. We can
think and listen and vote with the peace of knowing that, regardless
of the outcome, our hope is secure.
Don't Lost Hope
So
those are our first two callings as citizens of the kingdom of
heaven: do not buy into the kingdoms of this world and to not panic
at the fear they try to inspire. But there is one more thing I think
our heavenly citizenship should tell us: Don't lose hope. It
should tell us not to lose hope.
Being
a citizen of the kingdom of heaven means our hope is ultimately in
Christ and His coming. As Paul says in Philippians 3:20, “But
our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from
there, the Lord Jesus Christ.” So we have a secure hope for the
future.
But this hope also finds feet in the present. Look at
verse 21: “who, by the power that enables him to bring
everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that
they will be like his glorious body.” Now part of that is still
future – the resurrection of our bodies. But another part of that –
Christ bringing everything under His control, under His reign –
that is actually happening right now. That's happening right now.
Listen
to how Paul describes it in 1 Corinthians 15. He starts, in verse 24,
talking about the end - “Then comes the end, when he
delivers the kingdom to God the Father.” But that end is the end of
a process that is happening now - “after destroying every rule and
every authority and power.” Jesus is somehow, right now, at work
overcoming the powers of this world. Verse 25 says it again, “For
he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The
last enemy to be destroyed is death. For “God has put all
things in subjection under his feet.” (25-27a)
“Every rule and every
authority and every power.” That is the language of, well, of
politics. And Jesus is, according to this text, overcoming them in
this age. Not cooperating with them, not convincing them to share his
values. He is defeating them.
Which sounds radical, and
I guess it kind of is. But it is actually a great source of hope for
us as Christians. A great source of hope. Because that fact means
that it doesn't ultimately matter which way this election goes. It
doesn't ultimately matter which way America goes. This nation could
continue in prosperity and growth or it could crumble to dust, but
Jesus will still be on the throne, and His kingdom will still be
ascendant.
Application:
Which doesn't mean we
shouldn't want good things for our country, or be thoughtful, or
vote, or become involved. We are called to love our neighbors and to
seek to embody Jesus's kingdom in our lives, and for us here this
morning that means in Ogle County, and Illinois, and America. That's
all true.
But we shouldn't let our
hope rest on them. We shouldn't feel like Christ's kingdom is somehow
entwined with the fate of our nation. And if we have intertwined the
two, we should repent. Because it means we've set our minds on
earthly things.
More than that, though,
it means that we can be hopeful no matter what happens in our
political world. Because the flip side of what we've said is that
Jesus is on the move. Jesus is on the move. His gospel comes with the
power of salvation. His Spirit is at work changing hearts and lives.
His church is being built up in the world, and she will not perish
while He is at her head. We have great cause for hope!
Jesus is on the move. And
maybe that's the most important thing for us to ponder. I sometimes
suspect that part of why our partisan spirit is such a trap is that
it makes us expect government to bring the change and the hope and
the peace and the truth that should actually be carried by us. We get
allured by its bigness, by its promise of reaching millions.
But that's not how the
kingdom grows. It doesn't grow by men of power affecting millions. It
grows by the millions who are in Christ each seeking to be faithful
to His callins in their particular place. As each of us are faithful
in our seemingly small lives, the world will be changed.
So instead of fretting
about the election or the country, go tell someone about Jesus.
Mentor someone in their faith. Show compassion to someone who is
hurting. Help someone who is poor. Those aren't consolation prizes –
those are the bricks that build up Jesus's eternal kingdom. Those are
the things that truly matter.
Conclusion
I found myself thinking
this week about a quote by C.S. Lewis. He once said, “A man may
have to die for our country: but no man must, in any exclusive sense,
live for his country. He who surrenders himself without reservation
to the temporal claims of a nation, or a party, or a class is
rendering to Caesar that which, of all things, most emphatically
belongs to God: himself.” (C.S. Lewis)
That's really what it
comes down to. There are things we give to our country – our taxes,
our service. There are things we give to our party or candidate –
our vote. But we must always ensure that we aren't giving them more
than they deserve. We must not give them ourselves – we must
be given wholly and solely to God.
So don't buy in to the
lies the world sells. Don't fix your eyes on their promises. And
don't fear what the world tries to make you afraid of.
Instead of those things,
set your eyes on Jesus and His kingdom. The kingdom of which we are
citizens. Give yourself to that kingdom and have hope, because it's
King is good, and His good reign is breaking into the world and will
one day be fully realized at His coming. May we be people of such a
nation.
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