Walk in Truth. Walk in Love. Walk in Light.

I’ve been grieving this week. Grieving the assault on our nation's capital after centuries of peaceful transition. Grieving the response from people I know who even yet, after more than 60 failed lawsuits, still consider Donald Trump the God-ordained president for the next four year.

The more photos and video I see of the violence in our capital on January 6, the heavier the grief becomes. Those are my people, breaking glass in the heart of our nation. I know people who were there, defiantly shouting support of Donald Trump. They weren’t – to my knowledge- inside the building, but easily could have been, acting out their allegiance to a supposed savior sent to rescue our nation from imagined threats.

From all that I can see, all evidence I can find, those rioters themselves are the threat: unwilling to accept the word of election officials. Unwilling to accept decisions of judges from both parties, some appointed by Trump himself. Certain that they know the truth, no matter what evidence is piled against them. 

My readings this week were in 2 and 3 John and Jude. In his second letter, John instructs his readers to walk in love. In the third, he tells them to walk in truth. Jude warns against a failure of both, pointing to deceivers who have slipped in among God’s people, leading them astray. 

These people are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm—shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted—twice dead. They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever. 

These people are grumblers and faultfinders; they follow their own evil desires; they boast about themselves and flatter others for their own advantage. 

But, dear friends, remember what the apostles of our Lord Jesus Christ foretold. They said to you, “In the last times there will be scoffers who will follow their own ungodly desires.” These are the people who divide you, who follow mere natural instincts and do not have the Spirit. 

The language in that first paragraph has always intrigued me: clouds without rain, uprooted trees, wild waves, foaming up their shame. I've always wished we had more from Jude. I suspect he was a poet.

To me, this week, those words feel sadly relevant, but also a reminder that there have been other times when God’s people have been divided by deceivers, pulled along by opportunist who will say and do whatever it takes to secure their own advantage. 

How do we guard against that? How do we learn to recognize deception and oppose it with both truth and love?

Ed Stetzer, dean and professor at Wheaton College and executive director of the Wheaton College Billy Graham Center, has been speaking on the failure of discernment and political discipleship within evangelical Christianity. In an NPR interview and an op ed in USA Today, he describes our sad reality:

Trump is who many of us warned other evangelicals that he was. He has burned down the Republican Party, emboldened white supremacists, mainstreamed conspiracy theorists and more. 

Yet of greater concern for me is the trail of destruction he has left within the evangelical movement. Tempted by power and trapped within a culture war theology, too many evangelicals tied their fate to a man who embodied neither their faith nor their vision of political character. … 

The result of this discipleship failure has led us to a place where not only our people but also many of our leaders were easily fooled and co-opted by a movement that ended with the storming of the U.S. Capitol…  

That we have failed and been fooled is disheartening but not surprising. The true test will be how we respond when our idols are revealed. Will we look inside and repent when needed, or will we double down? 

The seven minute interview is worth listening to as occasion for reflection and prayer. 

Also worth listening to: a discussion I heard on NPR about families torn apart by delusion. Dannagal Young, associate professor of communications at the University of Delaware, talks about her research into ways to mend torn relationships when truth and love collide: 

Do not mock. Do not use snark. . . [U}sing scientific evidence, argumentation, etc., that comes through the very institutions that they have been told not to trust, that is going to backfire because now they think that you are the dupe because you trust these institutions, etc.. . . 

Come at them with unconditional love, as hard as that is, reminding them of the preexisting bonds that you have.

She suggests we show love toward those who have been deceived and reserve accountability and anger for those who have deceived them. 

Seltzer offers a similar recommendation.

How can the evangelical movement navigate this reckoning?

In listening and praying, I've found myself coming back to Martin Luther's words: 'Toward those who have been miseld, we are to show ourselves parentally affectionate, so that they may perceive that we seek not their destruction but their salvation. "

I see that same encouragement in Jude: while he speaks out strongly against the deceivers, he is far more gentle toward those who have been deceived: 

Be merciful to those who doubt; save others by snatching them from the fire; to others show mercy, mixed with fear. 

In this time when love and truth collide, as we look with mixed emotions toward the inaugurations of a new president, maybe we can start by examining our own hearts, asking God to show us places where we ourselves are lacking in love or unable to hear the truth. 

And we can pray for protection: for our past, current, future president. Their families. All around them. For governors, judges, legislative leaders, election officials. For those who have been threatened in recent weeks. For all who are navigating this historic time with mingled hope and fear.

And we can ask that our love and love for truth be strengthened, to face the work ahead. 

I'm reminded of the poem read at the 2009 inauguration. I listened with two fellow employees in the church where I was youth pastor. We were an odd gathering in a corner youth group room, trying to find a space where the church TV would pick up adequate reception. Two members of the church custodial staff, one Hispanic, one Black, and me. We laughed, we cried, we stood silent at the actual swearing in. We hugged each other when that was done, a long dozen years ago.  

I've learned much since then. Seen much. These words still speak to me. 

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,

others by first do no harm or take no more 

than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,

love that casts a widening pool of light,

love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air,

any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp

praise song for walking forward in that light.