Last month, a colleague of mine named Jenny McDevitt, who is a pastor down in South Carolina, posted an entry in her church’s Advent Devotional online. She began by saying:

I have been asked again recently – and I choose to assume the very best of intentions behind this question – why I so consistently speak of current events from the pulpit. The best answer I can offer is this: It is always my hope to speak of current events in the manner of Luke (the author of the Gospel of Luke), not as a stenographer, not as a news commentator, not as a historian, but as a theologian. I speak of current events because what is happening these days in our country is explicitly and unquestionably antithetical to the gospel. — The Reverend Jenny McDevitt, Pastor of Shandon Presbyterian Church in Columbia, SC

I don’t know how you are feeling about the state of the nation right now, but in a week when at least three people have been shot by federal immigration officers – with the video of the killing of a woman named Renee Good in Minneapolis posted online – and in a week when we are told by those in power that the power and might of a nation is greater than the ethical and moral underpinnings of international law, and in a week when we are also told that one former leader of a sovereign nation is a bad man but he was removed from power so that our nation might have access to tankers filled with oil, I am curious how any of this might make you feel and what – if any – of the gospel can be seen in any of the above.

Let’s bring this a little closer to home, because our congregation is not untouched by some of these issues. On Friday morning of this week, we received word that Agashirin Safi has been moved from the jail in Maine where he has been held since last March. He has been shipped to a facility in Louisiana, which, we have been led to believe, is the place where he is being readied for deportation back to Afghanistan. Last year when Agashirin was arrested, none of it made sense to us. He had been on his way to work – seeking to provide for his family. He had not broken the law. And, he was taken in such a sudden and frightening way that it devastated his family and sent ripples through the immigrant community. At the time of his arrest, many of us wondered what, if any, good his arrest might accomplish. His wife and five sons are left without a husband and father, little to no means of financial income, and our Neighborhood Support Team has had to go to great lengths to keep the family safe, secure, and continuing to progress through the labyrinthine immigration system. As far as I’m concerned, nothing “good” has come of any of it aside from witnessing the resilience of Malalai Safi and everyone who is supporting her through these difficult times.

This awful thing happened to someone who is close to our own church family and we felt powerless to do anything about it. Whether we know it or not, though, because many of us enjoy the privilege of citizenship, we are far less powerless than we might assume. The question is how to use what power we have, if we use it at all.

In a 2017 article in Christian History magazine, Christopher Gehrz writes,

In 1998, Israeli scholar Yehuda Bauer was invited to speak before Germany’s parliament, the Bundestag. “I come from a people who gave the Ten Commandments to the world,” he told the legislators. “Time has come to strengthen them by three additional ones, which we ought to adopt and commit ourselves to: thou shall not be a perpetrator; thou shall not be a victim; and thou shall never, but never, be a bystander.
(https://christianhistoryinstitute.org/magazine/article/the-church-of-the-bystanders)

Now, there are a variety of ways to parse out Bauer’s meaning of “perpetrator,” “victim,” and “bystander,” but he was speaking from the perspective of someone whose own people were completely decimated in Nazi Germany by perpetrators who were “simply following laws” that were antithetical to the gospel. He was writing from the perspective of people who were victims because they were powerless to fight back and were not aided by the bystanders – many of them, Christians – who simply looked away while millions of Jews were killed.

Years later, in 2026, I am curious where you and I might be on the spectrum of perpetrator and bystander. Yes, I know. . . we are not living in 1930’s Germany so our moral and ethical spectrum might need a slight reframing, but. . .

If we were to think theologically about all of this, in what ways does the moral and ethical foundation we find in the person of Jesus – the foundation of loving God and neighbor, the foundation of caring for the least of these, the foundation of nonviolence, the foundation of standing with and lifting up the lowly – in what way does this moral and ethical foundation call us to a certain way of life that is different from the ethos that seems to be so prominent in our current culture?

I ask this, not as a stenographer, not as a news commentator, not as a historian. . . or even some kind of politician or partisan. . . I ask this as a theologian and someone who is seeking to be faithful to Jesus. . . faithful to the One who is our Way, Truth, and Life.

So, how, then, shall we live? Some people write letters. Some people take to the streets. Some people stay home, thinking the problems of the world are too big for any one person, or even group of people, to solve. Some people simply don’t know what to do so they stay quiet.

I just want to make sure that I am never tempted to view injustice as normal. . . worth nothing more than a shrug of my shoulders. And I want to make sure that I don’t lose hope – hope in something. . . in someone better.

My pastor friend, Jenny McDevitt, has a thought or two on this. She writes,

There is a story of a man named A.J. Muste. In response to the war in Vietnam, he held a lit candle outside the White House fence every night. He was asked why he did that. If he thought doing it would actually change anything. He said, “Oh, no. I don’t hold this candle to change the country. I do it so the country won’t change me.

In this season of Epiphany – the season that begins with the remembrance of the Light that has come into the world – I wonder what you might be doing so that the events of the world don’t change you. I wonder what hope and light – if any – you are carrying in these dark days and if it is leading you to action. I wonder how this hope and light are keeping your faith alive. . .

If you’ve reached the end of this, I’m sure you have some thoughts, and, if you’re willing to share, I would love to have a grace-filled conversation with you.

See you in church!

Grace and Peace,

John



Prepare for Worship
This Week: Let This Sink In – Remember Your Baptism
Read Isaiah 42:1-9
Read Matthew 3:13-17
Read or sing Hymn # 484 – “Out of Deep, Unordered Water”

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Preview YouTube video Out of Deep, Unordered Water performed by The Riverside Choir | January 8, 2023Preview YouTube video Out of Deep, Unordered Water performed by The Riverside Choir | January 8, 2023