This sermon benefitted from a little lesson in science yesterday during worship at the presbytery assembly gathering, of all places. As she began, the preacher led us through some simple breathing exercises, such as one might use in meditation. Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth. Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth. Breathe in. . . . . breathe out. . . . . Okay.
From there she had us breathe in deeply and then expel on an audible sigh. Try it. Finally, she told us to yawn. Imagine! A preacher inviting us to yawn! But then she explained that sighing and yawning are two ways our bodies can self-regulate to respond to the vibe around us. We can gently relax. We can become more receptive to a new thing. We can release the tension and anxiety we hold almost unconsciously. It has something to do with the vagus nerve which runs from our brain clear down to the colon (Jack, did I get that right?). Our brilliant Creator actually gave us ways to embody the peace and well-being God intends. That seems important to remember in troubled times. . . and during sermons that mix politics and religion. Yawn, my friends!
Decades ago, my dad—a pastor serving the Presbyterian Church in Yuma, Colorado—was called out by some church members and townsfolk for decrying school prayer. I was in high school (that’s how long ago it was), and at first I was puzzled by what seemed a surprising stance for a man of God who prayed often and always. He explained his reasons during a discussion around our dinner table. Kids, this is important. When prayer is mandated by the school district, the state, or anyone else, it goes against our country’s Constitutional right to worship—or not—as we see fit. It devalues the prayer we practice at home and in church, and it might even contradict it! He hewed to his principles despite the criticism, but often responded to the naysayers by reminding them that as long as there are pop quizzes in the classroom, there will always be praying.
Well. I can only imagine what he might think of today’s mix of politics and religion. From laws requiring public classrooms to display the Ten Commandments, to an Oklahoma mandate to teach the Bible in public schools; the rise of Christian Nationalism has blurred the distinction between citizenship in the United States and discipleship to Christian faith. Our series on this cultural phenomenon continues by taking a step back and interrogating the belief that America was originally founded as a Christian nation with Judeo-Christian values.
Two quick reminders. One, I have compiled a list of books, print resources, and videos from both conservative and progressive perspectives on this topic that is available in the narthex lobby information hutch. Second, the best sermons are delivered not as edicts from on high, but instead as the reflection of God’s people in conversation with Scripture, Spirit, and one another. The hopes and fears and faith you regularly share have informed this sermon series, and I cherish continued dialog, whether or not you agree with my understanding. In preaching I seek fidelity to God’s Word, yet humbly acknowledge I might be wrong. I am always open to learning more and more deeply. Thank you for being sermon partners (intentionally or not!).
The morning text reveals that mixing politics and religion is not a new thing, nor is it newly controversial. Religious leaders are sent to trick Jesus into saying something that will discredit him, either with the government levying taxes or his own people, struggling under the oppressive weight of those taxes. Spoiler alert! Jesus calmly avoids either with a clever retort that amazes them into silence. It sounds simple: divvy up what you owe between church and state. But what, actually, is owed to God? Questioned again by a religious leader, Jesus’ response is clear: everything. A reading from the good news according to Mark, in the twelfth chapter, verses 13 through 17, and 28 through 34. Listen for God’s Word to the Church as we seek to navigate faithfully the landscape of our time, particularly in this election year. [Mark 12:13-17, 28-34]
When did Central start displaying the American flag? The Church member was genuinely puzzled. He has been an active member for decades and just hadn’t noticed it. In fact, he was so sure that it had not been there historically that he checked a family wedding photo from the 1950s and sure enough, there it was, pretty much in the same place as it stands today. Then he pressed further: Why does the Church display the flag of our nation? Doesn’t that belie the separation of Church and State?
A flag in the sanctuary just may be the symbol that both illumines and clouds the question about the faith of our founding fathers. On the one hand, many of them were themselves immigrants escaping religious persecution in Britain and Europe. They enshrined the freedom of religious belief and expression in the First Amendment. But we can blame our Calvinist forebears for pushing its bounds. Leaders loyal to Reformed Theology had made Calvinism the official religion of the new state of Connecticut. Baptists residing there objected and claimed that their religious freedom was infringed upon by these laws. They took the matter to Thomas Jefferson, primary author of the Declaration of Independence, who memorably responded:
Believing with you that religion is a matter which lies solely between Man & his God, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship, that the legitimate powers of government reach actions only, & not opinions, I contemplate with sovereign reverence that act of the whole American people which declared that their legislature should ‘make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,’ thus building a wall of separation between Church & State. [The Danbury Letter, cited in a 2019 article in Politico]
The Baptists were relieved, Connecticut very soon repealed the mandate for an official religion, and the young nation affirmed this essential protection of religion from state interference. America, friends, was not conceived as a Christian nation. Several of the primary authors of our founding documents were deists who acknowledged God as creator but not one that interacts with humans or intervenes in the life of the world. But now we find ourselves in a very different place.
In reaction to social and cultural change and a religiously pluralistic context Christian Nationalism has tried to rewrite the playbook to make a particular version of Christianity and Biblical values the supreme law of the land. What I perhaps naively understood by the presence of the flag in the sanctuary as an homage to the freedom of religion guaranteed by our nation, has become far more ominous and consequential. The flag has taken on the status of a religious symbol and in some cases one as potent as the cross. In his book The Kingdom, the Power and the Glory, author Tim Alberta describes worship services in his evangelical church in which the Pledge of Allegiance is recited, and the Star-Spangled Banner sung right along with Holy, Holy, Holy.
Despite the ways former President Trump has embraced and amplified its themes, Christian Nationalism did not rise from one leader or event, but is rather the result of historical forces dating back decades. The Pledge of Allegiance, for example, was not adopted until 1923, and the phrase “under God” was not added to it until 1954. “In God we trust” was added to our money only in 1956. There was swift backlash against the Supreme Court’s ban on school prayer, efforts to pass an Equal Rights Amendment, and of course the landmark Roe v. Wade decision in 1974. Many of us witnessed the “Moral Majority” –an effort to organize evangelical and fundamentalist Christians to build and exercise political power.
I want to distinguish again the difference between a religious leader such as Billy Graham, whose prayerful support included presidents from Eisenhower to Obama, Republican and Democrat alike, and the alliances that marry religious teaching with political rule. By contrast, I heard the Rev. Charlie Kirk on Colorado Public Radio recently, railing against what he called “woke” churches that display rainbow symbols, condemn racism and support critical race theory, and advocate for “social justice.” That’s his first amendment right, of course—-until he calls for shutting them down and establishing laws banning such perspectives and practices.
. . . . but what does this mean to you and me; to Central? Why should our minds be crowded with these matters on a hot August morning, when each of us has personal concerns and joys that delight and frustrate us? Why not come to church to hear a Word of cheer and encouragement, rather than of warning and danger?
….because we are people of faith who seek to listen for God’s Word and to learn more clearly what it means to follow Jesus. And I believe there are few greater challenges to doing either of those than the expressions of Christian Nationalism that fill the airwaves, social media, political discourse, and yes, religious landscape. Unless we are clear about its foundations, we are vulnerable to imagining it is simply one expression of Christian faith and may have even strengths to complement our own expression. We share, for example, a common vocabulary and many of the same values: God and faith and family and patriotism and freedom.
But when they are held up as the supreme principles with which to govern and rule this nation, they deny the very bedrock of democracy. . . . and the God whom alone we worship and serve. We need to be able to distinguish our beliefs and practices from those of Christian Nationalism, because the world out there frequently lumps us all together.
Jesus silenced his critics by taking the very symbol of the Roman government—the image of the emperor on a coin—and humorously implied they should pay more attention to the things owed to the God of heaven and earth. Jesus may even have engaged in a little irony: it was actually forbidden for practicing Jews to carry the coinage of the empire, because it bore a graven image of a so-called “divine” ruler, and thus violated the commandment to worship God alone. So where’d they get that denarius? Hmmm. Well, it was probably as familiar as a flag in a sanctuary, a pledge of loyalty to the state made during a worship service, the Ten Commandments posted in a public school classroom. . . .
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the dialog continued with a question about the supreme commandment. What’s first? What’s best? What’s most important? And Jesus couldn’t have been any clearer. Love God with all that you are, and love your neighbor as yourself. Friends, this is the One to whom we owe primary loyalty. This is the One who created beloved community bigger than family or tribe; without boundaries and walls and borders. This is the One to whom no religion can stake exclusive claim. And no nation can either.
Frankly, I’m agnostic on the matter of the flag of our nation in the sanctuary. The one in Central was given as a tribute to men and women who served in the armed forces during World War II—a war fought to stop the forces of evil tyranny and genocide, and preserve freedom and democratic rule. Far more important than recognizing a symbol is to practice its values. Don’t tell me how much you love: God and country and one another. Show me. Let Central be known for the love we share with near- and- dear and stranger and opponent alike.
So let us worship. Let us serve. Active verbs for these contentious, hateful times, and ones that will surely make a difference.
[Yawn].
