I am a forgiven sinner who traces my forgiveness to the finished work of the cross through faith in Jesus the Christ, my lord and savior. I am not a fan, but a determined follower who accepts my responsibility to share the Good News of the gospel. I have a duty to tell the world about him and live out God’s earthly kingdom by channeling his love for me to others. It is easy to love God who first loved me and sent his son to pay the price for my sin. But I confess, lately it has been hard for me to love my neighbor as I much as I love me because I am angry. Jesus equates anger to murder. And I don’t want any part of violence, especially murder.
Admittedly, I am a flawed man desperately trying to follow Jesus in a Twilight Zone world; a world in which some would have us believe down is up and wrong is right. It is a world where the banner of Jesus and the Word of God is carried into the US Capitol by people shouting murderous threats. It is a world where the nation’s leader is sitting on Christ’s throne in the minds of many professed Christians and they have not yet realized they are worshipping a false god. It is a world where respected clergy equate elected men and women, who took a conscientious stand, with Judas.
That makes me angry. I am angry at the president and his enablers and apologists. I am especially angry at religious leaders who know it is the Church, not the USA that plays a role in God’s redemptive plan. Yet they continue to back a failed presidency and do nothing to stop the lies behind the chaos. Those who attacked the Capitol were largely, misguided sheep. It was the leaders, both the religious and secular shepherds who set them on a fool’s errand; sent them to attack our nation, once a beacon of democracy for the world.
Yes, I am angry. I am angry at what I have lost. I can no longer fly an American flag without fearing my patriotism will be misconstrued as bigotry or treason. I can no longer celebrate my right to keep and bear arms without fear of being lumped in with the violent, Capitol mob. I must now call myself a pre-Trump Republican for obvious reasons. But most of all, I can no longer self-identify as an evangelical for fear that will alienate others from the gospel I long to share with them.
Lastly, I am angry with myself because I struggle with loving those responsible for what I have lost. My anger is mostly fueled by guilt. I voted for Donald Trump in 2016, which implicates me in ripping babies from their mothers’ arms—some never to be reunited. It ties me to caging children. It links me to the alienation of our traditional allies in favor of friendship with evil dictators and despots. It makes me a party to lies, all of them, but especially the “stolen election” one that continues to divide us. Finally, the worst lie of all makes me culpable in the deaths of nearly 400 thousand Americans from COVID-19.
Sure, like most of my Christian friends, I can proudly proclaim that I voted against abortion, yet when he had absolute power to do something about it, he didn’t. Or I can brag that he secured our border. Next to, “Mexico is going to pay for it.” that’s one of the biggest lies he has spun as a success. Most recently there have been lies about vaccine availability and distribution. Non-existent stores were promised to states, further exacerbating immunization plans and threatening even more death.
I am still opposed to abortion, but not at the cost of my relationship with Jesus and the loss of our national prestige, democracy, compassion and self-respect. So, there it is. I am an angry, poor judge of presidents. (Yes, I voted for Richard Nixon in 1972, too.) Next time I’m voting for a moral candidate and leaving the moral policy changes to God. Finally I am praying we all pray for the new government and learn to leave politics out of the pulpit. There you have it. I have made my public confession. Thankfully, our God is a God of second chances.
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9 | NIV).
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