Quiet Isn’t Always Peace

People in my church will be tired of hearing me quote 1 Thessalonians 4:11 “endeavor to live a quiet life, mind your own business, and work with your hands.” I think this is one of the most essential scriptures we can live by in our social media-saturated culture. With more platforms than ever to express our opinions, choosing to be quiet is an act of defiance. This has been a scripture to live by for me, but it is also one that causes me to wrestle with other scriptures. I read Proverbs 31:8–9. “Speak up for those who have no voice, for the justice of all who are dispossessed. Speak up, judge righteously, and defend the cause of the oppressed and needy.” Or I look at the life of Jesus and see moments when he chose to not be quiet but to raise his voice, even if it caused division because the matter at hand was too important not to speak. Most powerfully for me, I think of Paul in Acts 20 speaking of being innocent of people’s blood and then warned them to stand strong against false doctrines that would come from within the church. He seems to be saying, that silence in the face of bad theology could be equivalent to murder.

These scriptures, which are clearly in tension with each other, may explain why I am so hesitant to speak but also why I feel compelled to not always be silent. Last year, I spoke out often and forcefully around the issues of racial injustice, as has been my practice for years. I ruffled some feathers, but most people who knew me knew where I would land on the issue. However, on July 7, I posted a thought to Facebook juxtaposing the stance of pastors in my community toward BLM and COVID protocols. I was astounded by the absurdity of many posts I had been seeing. People would post that the BLM protests needed to stop, and those people needed to get over it and respect the government and obey the laws, usually referencing Romans. Then on the same day, I would see the same people say that the government could not make them wear a mask and they did not care what our governor or any official said, they were not giving up their freedom and used the language of martyrdom. Both arguments I saw as somewhat suspect and when combined, they were clearly hypocritical. In my post, I asked if the government made a law that everyone had to wear a mask, would they protest or would they respect the government and obey the law? Which scriptures would they choose?

Almost immediately, a good friend of mine who is also a pastor responded to my post by throwing up a long list of scriptures about unity and boldly declared, “Our highest ministerial calling is to unify and protect the flock from negative spiritual and cultural influences.” He said that my post was adding to the division in our nation and in the church.

This sharp rebuke from a person I respected gave me pause and caused me to do much soul searching. I decided that maybe he was right and I decided to use more private settings to share my thoughts and challenge people’s thinking. I continued to speak up for the vulnerable and take a stand against bad theology, but I chose to do it in private conversations or from my pulpit in my local community, but on social media, I went silent. I did not want to be the cause of more division in our world.

I was silent last summer as pastors and prophets began to publicly take sides in the US election. I was silent as scriptures were used to demonize political enemies. I was silent as the language of violence flowed from the mouths of “people of peace.” I was silent when a local pastor defended Trump’s first debate performance by publicly posting, “…he (Trump)was the leader God chose, own it and quit back peddling because of the package it came in. It greatly weakens the authority of your voice.” And local commenters said things like, “Amen, I want my combat commander loaded and locked…” and “Pansies don’t pull down idols!” I was silent when a pastor friend of mine told me that the lies of Trump did not bother him at all because the other side lied worse. I stayed silent for the sake of unity.

I was silent after the election as local Christians started making shirts that said, “We are lions not sheep,” in an effort to justify their aggressive posturing. I was silent as the Old Testament scriptures were twisted to condone hatred. I was silent as the same pastors who spoke against protests suddenly found Biblical inspiration for insurrection. I was silent when a local pastor posted “the Israelites didn’t get what was promised to them by God, they only got what they fought for.” I was silent after the march on the Capitol when the symbols of Christianity were waved as banners over rebellion.

I was silent in the days following when the prophets were declaring that it wasn’t over yet. I was silent as Christians began to publicly hope and pray for the execution of justice that would round up all the democrats, news anchors, and even the Vice President and give our former president four more years. I was silent as pastors began to play on people’s fears. I was silent as people, moved by conspiracy, rushed to the grocery stores to prepare for the coming marshall law that would keep the inauguration from happening. I was silent as we waited for the “Craken”, when a local pastor posted, “I keep being drawn to the story of Haman and Mordecai in the book of Esther. It’s a great story with a wonderful ending. I love stories where the bad guy gets what’s coming.” I don't want you to miss the connotation here. In the 9th chapter of Esther it says, “on the very day when the enemies of the Jews hoped to gain mastery over them, the reverse occurred: the Jews gained mastery over those who hated them…and got relief from their enemies and killed 75,000 of those who hated them.”

I was even silent after the inauguration when a local Christian posted, “Our country was nailed to the cross and died today!!! It’s hard to watch…But just you wait til RESURRECTION DAY!!!! Oh HALLELUJAH…IT’S GOING TO RISE AGAIN! Just wait and see!!! And God will pour out His wrath on these evil people and we will get to witness it!” I was silent because I didn’t want to be the divisive one.

But then I just happened to be preaching through the book of John. I came to the place in chapter 11 where the Israelites decided, for the sake of unity, to get rid of the prophet from Nazareth. For the future of their nation, they had to kill him. For the cause of righteousness, they had to silence Jesus.

N. T. Wright, on reading this chapter in John says, “There is such a thing as idolatry of nationhood.” He explains that an idol can start off promising something good. This could be a longing for a better society. A desire for a more perfect union. Then the idol convinces you that only it can accomplish the goal. But ultimately, when the idol can’t deliver all it had promised, it starts to demand sacrifices. You have to “abandon part of your proper allegiance to God-and often to your neighbors, your family, your other duties-in order to give fresh and inappropriate attention to the new idol.” You have to be willing to give up some of your principles for the sake of victory. You have to abandon the way of the peace, because “pansies don’t pull down idols.” You have to justify the indefensible by saying the other side is worse. You have to question the way of Jesus with statements like, “we are not electing a pastor in chief, we are electing a commander in chief.” You have to find a scripture that encourages you to pull a sword.

The only problem for Christians is none of these things line up with the teachings of Christ. Yes, Jesus came to establish a new kingdom. Yes, he boldly stood against unrighteousness and he brought division. But when Peter pulled a sword to fight for Jesus, Jesus rebuked him and brought healing instead of war. Jesus said to Pilot in John 18, “If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not of this world.” He showed his power in his meekness. He boldly declared that even the temple did not need to be fought for and preserved but in fact, it needed to be torn down. He came to bring a radical love ethic that could not find a home in the broken religious system of his day. A love that seeks not its own. A love that is patient and kind not arrogant and boastful. He came to call believers to be a light to the world and preached a message of enemy love.

It was then that I decided that if for the sake of unity, I am called to silence the message of Jesus then I just can’t go along. If a message of enemy love disquiets the church crowd then I must say, as Jesus said, let us tear this temple down and build a new one. I can no longer risk having blood on my hands for the sake of unity because in the words of Amanda Gorman, “Quiet isn’t always peace.” You see, I care too much about the gospel of Jesus Christ to let it be misrepresented. I believe too deeply about the atonement that the cross purchased to let my faith be weaponized against the very people Christ died for. I cherish the grace that was given to me way too much to long for the destruction of the bad guys because I realize that I was a bad guy when Christ rescued me. He did not give me what I deserved but gave me a new life and a challenge to love others into the kingdom.

If bad theology really ends with blood on our hands, I fear the church is in great need of repentance and resurrection and if good theology brings disunity, then let it be so. Because I realized that my “highest ministerial calling” is not to unity at the expense of truth, but to love at the expense of power. I pray we destroy the “idols of nationhood” and every aspect of the “Christian Nationalism” that would charge the Capitol to fight for worldly power and the “Christian” voices that seek to justify it. Bad theology leads to death. I pray we return to being the people of peace in a broken world and I pray my public voice can be used to this end.