September 22, 2024
God’s People in the World
Mark 12:13-17
This morning, we are turning our attention to the song “I Shall Not Be Moved,” and the title of this message is “God’s People in the World.”
Let us pray together.
O God, open our ears to hear You speaking. Open our minds to be receptive to Your truth. Open our hearts to be moved by Your will and Your love, that we may be Your faithful people in the world. Through Christ, we pray. Amen.
It is inspiring to see people living out their faith in public life. It is, or at least it can be, inspiring to see people of faith and conviction taking a stand in the public square for what their faith calls them to.
You might think of the image on the front of your bulletin. Guy Carawan is teaching a group of folks to sing folk music. Guy Carawan was the music director of the Highlander Research and Education Center in New Market, Tennessee. The center was led by a person named Zilphia Horton, who is an interesting character in her own right. Guy Carawan taught the folk song “We Shall Overcome” to the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, which led the Civil Rights Movement. So, there is Guy Carawan teaching this song, “We Shall Overcome,” and you can imagine the pictures you’ve seen of marchers arm in arm, singing “We Shall Overcome.”
It’s inspiring to see people living out their faith in public, or at least it can be.
Or think of the song “I Shall Not Be Moved.” This song originated from the life of enslaved persons in early 19th-century camp meetings and brush arbor worship services. The images come from Jeremiah 17—a tree that is planted by a stream of water, where the water continues to flow. The tree draws nourishment and strength even in dry seasons, stormy times, and desolate times. The tree is a source of life for those around it.
This song, “I Shall Not Be Moved,” has become a song of inspiration and unity for people living their faith in public. In 1949, in Westchester County, New York, Paul Robeson was invited to sing at a benefit concert to support White and Black workers who were protesting for better pay and working conditions. But because Robeson was Black, some local leaders in that community opposed his presence, some of whom were war heroes from World War II. They tried to stop the concert, even using violence.
In order to maintain their strength and conviction, the protesters and organizers joined arms and sang “I Shall Not Be Moved.” The concert was organized by a prominent writer at the time named Howard Fast, and here’s what he said about that night:
“Many, many times for as long back as I can remember, I’ve heard people singing that old hymn, but I never heard it sung as it was sung that night. Swelling out over the hills, full of the deep and rich voices of men who had fought so well, it was a moral mystery to the legion of heroes who tried to stop us. They saw a line of Negroes and whites, arms locked, ragged and bloody, standing calmly and singing. And the singing stopped them. They halted a dozen feet from us, and their screaming stopped. They stood there in silence, watching us and listening to our song and trying to understand what sort of people we were. That’s always been a difficult thing for them to understand.”
It can be inspiring to see how the convictions of faith move out into public life. It can be inspiring when you see people whose faith runs deep, like a tree planted by a stream, who stand for what they believe in the public square—who are God’s people in the world.
And yet, if we’re honest with ourselves as people of faith, it can also be frightening. It can be frightening when people of faith try to force their religious convictions on the whole of society. It can be frightening when people of faith try to claim and wield political power to enforce their particular vision of what is good and what is right on everyone else in a diverse society.
A few weeks ago, someone handed me an article from The Atlantic magazine. The article was by a person who had collected the prayers of various conservative rallies in recent years and compiled them together to see what theology these prayers represent. And I tell you, as a minister, it was frightening to see what those folks were praying for because they were so sure they had the right answer and the right candidate. They were so confident that God was on their side, so convinced that salvation was in their hands; that if only God would give them the power, then they could save everyone else.
Those prayers—and I’m okay with a thoughtful prayer in public—but those prayers frightened me as a person of faith. It was frightening to see how those convictions were driving a quest for political power. To see where that kind of quest ends, we need only look for the most extreme example: contemporary Afghanistan. Women, once more, are denied an education and are required to dress from head to foot when they are outside the home. Men are banned from behaving or dressing in any way that would be contrary to a so-called “normal” Muslim man.
That society is in the grip of a particular conservative vision of Islam and controlled by a specific group of people with a particular social vision and the power to carry it out. Or we may look at the war in the Middle East, which pits one Abrahamic faith against another. As rockets have been exchanged—even this morning—between Hezbollah and Israel. We see examples like that, and one might be tempted to say that faith has no place in the public square. That, somehow, we need to extract faith from public life – though I do not believe it is possible do that, even if we would do so.
So, what sense can we make of this as Reformed Presbyterian Christians? On the one hand, faith in public life can be inspiring. On the other hand, it can be frightening. How do we, as Presbyterians, inheritors of the Reformed tradition, make sense of the way that Christians should move in public life?
Our theological heritage gives us strong tools for understanding how our faith moves appropriately in public, in a healthy and non-frightening or non-threatening way. This morning, I want to share some principles that mean something to me and, hopefully, will mean something to you. I hope to plant these in our thoughts together as the people of God in the world.
We begin with the insight from Mark 12, the story that David told: Each person possesses fundamental dignity as made in the image of God.
Palestine in the first century was a complicated religious and political place. When the leaders of that society came to Jesus and asked, “Should we pay our taxes?” they were not asking an accounting question; they were asking a religious and political question. The money was the coinage of the occupying emperor, who was both a religious and a political figure. So, Jesus asked them, “Whose image is on the coin?” They said, “The emperor’s,” and Jesus gave them the clever response: “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and give to God what is God’s.”
Here’s what was unspoken: the image of the emperor is on the coin—whose image is on you?
The image of God.
In Genesis 1, we read that God said, “Let us make humankind in our own image,” and so in God’s own image, God made us. Each person is made in God’s own image and, therefore, bears the innate dignity of the image of God in their person, irrespective of their political affiliations, beliefs, accomplishments, skills, or views. Each person is made in God’s image, and that fundamental conviction shapes our life as Reformed Christians in the world. So, if you’ll bear with me for a few more minutes, let me draw out some implications of what I think this means for our life together.
As Reformed Christians, this means we believe in rights—God-given rights. These rights are not conferred by the state but are secured and recognized by the state. They are given to us by God, inherent to us as bearers of God’s image. The first among these, for us as Reformed Christians, is the right to worship and to practice our religious beliefs according to our conscience. Why? Because we bear God’s image, and we have a freedom of conscience to worship as such. Because we are made in God’s image, no one can force religious belief on another person. We have a God-given right to worship.
That also means we have a God-given right to free speech, the right to peaceful assembly, and the right to be free from unwarranted search. These rights are not rooted simply in the Bill of Rights; they are rooted in our dignity as bearers of the image of God.
We also believe in principled pluralism. What does principled pluralism mean? It means that society is diverse. There are many perspectives, beliefs, values, ways of living, and ways of thinking within this room, much less within this city, state, nation, and world. Because each one is made in God’s image, we cannot force our beliefs on other people. The Reformed theological tradition, of which we are a part, has never endorsed Christian nationalism for this reason. We cannot enforce religious belief and practice on others, not on one community much less a whole nation!
Instead, we face issues with open minds and discussion. We explain how we see things, we listen to others and how they see things; we look for places where we can agree, and we look for places where we can compromise. If we cannot find places to agree or compromise, then we vote. If we lose the vote, we live peaceably until the next election. This takes patience. It’s easy to see why some, or even some of us, might want to take matters into our own hands and make it work. But we do it because we honor the image of God in other people, as well as in ourselves.
Going on now, we also believe that a healthy society requires strong institutions to support us and to check us. Now, I know institutions are really out of vogue, and it’s typical to not like institutions for some very good reasons. But here’s why our theological tradition supports strong institutions: because we are made in God’s image, yet none of us are perfect, none of us are self-sufficient, and none of us are right all the time. We need strong families, strong religious institutions, strong governments, strong legal systems, strong schools, strong hospitals, strong civic organizations, and strong professional societies. We need strong institutions at every level of society to support us and to check our faults, because while we are made in God’s image, we are not perfect or self-sufficient or right all the time.
We believe that every role in society is important. Did you know that in the Reformed tradition, pastors are not more important than plumbers; nor are plumbers more important than pastors? Teachers are not less important than traders. Bankers are not more important than bakers. Entrepreneurs are not more important than exterminators. Soldiers are not more important than scholars. In the Reformed tradition, every occupation, every role in society, matters. Why? Because each one of us is made in God’s image and called to give our best—our energy, our skill, and our talent in service to God and other people. If your best leads you to bake bread or to be a banker, God bless you. Every role matters—pastors and plumbers, teachers and traders, entrepreneurs and exterminators.
And… we believe that the primary goal of society—though not the only goal—is justice. Society rightly organizes itself to defend us from enemies, to build businesses and create prosperity, and to regulate traffic. But the primary, God-given goal is to create justice—not just justice between two people, like in a court case, but justice between groups and organizations within society, so that all treat others justly and are treated justly.
By comparison, a recent analysis of 100 years of American evangelical theology revealed a consistent focus: that the aim of government is to protect individual liberty. As Reformed Christians, we believe individual liberty is important, but it is not the highest goal of government. To borrow the words of another, liberty without the constraints of justice is freedom for the lions and eagles of the world to maul the weak and the powerless.
In the pursuit of justice in society, Christians are called to give priority to the last and the least—the poor and the powerless. If Jesus has a choice to stand with the wealthy or the poor, he always chooses to stand with the poor and the least. So does the church that follows Jesus in the world. The goal of society, of our life together in the world, is to pursue justice.
Finally, we believe that we should treat each other with civility and decency, fairness and empathy. Now, I know that sounds really old-fashioned and maybe out of place in the world today. But because every person bears the dignity of the image of God, every person is entitled to be treated with respect, even if that person is different from us in station, status, accomplishment, perspective, or belief. Every person is owed the dignity of being treated with civility as made in God’s image.
If we love our neighbors, we will feel empathy for them when they are victims of injustice. If we are called to seek and do justice, we will strive to treat each person fairly and justly, and we will work to create a society that is more just. Why? Because each one of us is made in God’s image.
As Reformed Christians, as people who follow Jesus, that’s our North Star as we seek to move out into the world, arm in arm, to be God’s faithful people in the world. That’s our guiding principle: each one is made in God’s image. We have God-given rights. We must persuade, listen, compromise, and vote—but not force our will. We need strong institutions to support one another and check our faults. Every person’s vocation matters. The primary goal of society is justice. And we are called to treat one another with civility and decency.
Does that sound naive? Maybe too idealistic? Our current political and social life is woefully short on civility and empathy. But I believe that as ordinary citizens, you and I can treat others with the civility and fairness they deserve. We can listen carefully and speak respectfully. And when it comes time to vote, we can ask ourselves: What does justice require?
And I believe that many political leaders—beyond all of the noise—at the local, state, and national levels are doing their best to act faithfully, responsibly, and carefully as the people of God moving through the world.
And I know this—we need encouragement, support, correction, and strength from one another. And we need songs. Songs like “We Shall Overcome” and “I Shall Not Be Moved.” Songs that help us to link arms and to remember how deep our values go, that call our attention to the living water that flows underneath our lives, to the word of grace and word of promise. To remember the great promises of God that stand before us as a people, that call us to love mercy, and do justice, and walk humbly with God and one another.
Friends, you are made in the image of God, and so is your neighbor. I invite you, as Reformed Christians and as citizens, to live as God’s people in the world.
Amen.
Rev. Patrick W. T. Johnson, Ph.D.
First Presbyterian Church
Asheville, North Carolina