Editor’s Note: This article was originally published by Mark Slokma on his blog, Merely Human. You can follow him and find additional posts by Mark on his Substack.
[DISCLAIMER: this week’s devotional, like every week before it, is my perspective. I am not making a statement on behalf of the denomination I serve. The following is another personal expression of a man who, by the grace of God, continues to stumble heavenward. My prayer for this week, like any previous post, is that God will use it to serve those who read it.]
“Therefore, everyone who hears these words of Mine, and acts on them, will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25“And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and yet it did not fall, for it had been founded on the rock. 26 “And everyone who hears these words of Mine, and does not act on them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. 27 “And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and slammed against that house; and it fell—and its collapse was great.” (Matthew 7.24-27, NASB 2020)
Everyone is a theologian. Whether you are an atheist, an agnostic, a spiritually minded person who does not identify with any one religious stream, or if you identify with a particular religious faith. The only thing that remains to be seen is: are you a good theologian or a poor one? Theology matters. Your understanding of God (or no God) directly shapes your convictions about virtue, morality, justice, and destiny. The more meaningful the theological task is to you, the more you will create frameworks for seeing life, your life, and the world. Therefore, your theology will
shape the way you live, determine who you will worship and serve inspire your love and conduct in your relationships, and influence your ethical understanding for personal, societal, and political conduct.
Where does one begin doing theology? Do you begin by formulating your theology based on creation, culture, and circumstance, or by starting with God and His revelation recorded in the Scriptures? Are there theological absolutes we can declare concerning God (or no God!) and the human condition, conduct, and worldview? Is theology relative to culture, circumstance, and perception? Do you think the Bible itself is the product of a culture with a limited perspective because it has not enjoyed the enlightenment of human progress—history, science, reason, and global understanding? Are our theological perspectives a confessional response to the cultural moment we live in? If so, what shapes our theological frameworks, and how can we be sure it is not a rationalization for taking the cultural position that strangely reinforces the socio-political perspective we are already most comfortable with?
For centuries, followers of Jesus Christ have confessed that the Bible is infallible in “all that pertains to saving faith and also to the framing of a life acceptable to God; and in this respect it is expressly commanded by God that nothing be either added or taken from the same” (Second Helvetic Confession, 16th Century). If this statement is true, then Scripture, not culture, circumstance, reason, or experience, is the foundation and authority for our understanding of God, destiny, virtue, and morality.
In my experience, the absence of prescriptive theological frameworks or the multiplication of shallow theological frameworks will result in uncertainty and anxiety because we lack a foundation for all seasons. In the wake of this, it will be human nature for us to drift towards ideology that aligns with our bias and assuages our insecurity. Theological frameworks challenge us to engage our world in alignment with God’s revelation, which rarely, if ever, agrees with our ideologies, indulges our biases, and bends to our fears. The truth is, thoughtful and applied theology has a subversive nature that has always disrupted powers and principalities who claim an autonomous authority that is not theirs to seize or to wield. Jennifer Thigpen, a friend of mine who works with non-majority ministry leaders, observes: “The presence of the Kingdom will always disrupt the practice of the Empire.” What someone has observed of the words of Jesus is true for our theological frameworks: “they comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted!”
In this current cultural moment when our culture has a heightened awareness of outrage, which further polarizes our nation, have you reflected on your theological frameworks for seeing, living, and confessing the uniqueness and supremacy of Jesus Christ during this cultural moment?
For what it’s worth, here, in brief, is a part of mine around the cluster of immigration, violence, and our Christian witness.
1. The Sacred Worth of Every Human Life
(Genesis 1:26–27; Psalm 24:1; Matthew 25:35–40)
As a follower of Jesus Christ, I begin with the conviction that every human being bears the image of God. Life is sacred—not because of legal status, nationality, or political alignment, but because every person belongs first to God, whether they share my faith or not. I grieve the loss of life and the trauma experienced by families, neighbors, and communities affected by any act of violence — including recent events. I also affirm the dignity of all involved, including those entrusted with public safety, recognizing that violence leaves no one untouched. Although they face risks in their roles, they carry a greater responsibility to not abuse and misuse the power entrusted to them. (Luke 3.12-14)
I believe my response must be marked first by worship, prayer, and surrender to Christ and followed by lament, intercessory prayer, and compassion. Scripture calls me to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15) and to resist any narrative that diminishes human worth or rushes past suffering in the name of ideology.
2. Holding Law and Justice in Faithful Tension
(Romans 13:1–4; Micah 6:8; Amos 5:24)
The Christian faith affirms the necessity of lawful authority and ordered society. Scripture teaches that governing authorities exist for the common good and are accountable to God. At the same time, the Bible consistently calls God’s people to evaluate how power is exercised—especially when it results in harm, fear, or death. I do not think the Bible calls me to a blind allegiance to any government. It is not that simple.
In the Scriptures, Pharaoh’s midwives disobeyed and lied to him, Rahab misled the king of Jericho, Obadiah hid 100 prophets in defiance of the queen, the Wise Men did not return to Herod as commanded, Peter and John did not stop preaching Jesus when commanded by their authorities, Paul and Silas were frequently imprisoned in some localities for preaching illegally. Not to mention that I have financially supported ministries that smuggle Bibles into countries where the Scriptures are declared illegal, or that support pastoral leaders in nations where our faith and fellowship are both illegal and may be punishable by death! In such cases, governments create fear for doing the good, true, and beautiful — the very opposite of their mandate in Scripture.
Christians need not reject immigration law itself to ask whether enforcement is carried out justly, proportionately, and humanely. Respect for the rule of law and concern for justice are not opposing commitments; they are held together in faithful discipleship. Where actions fall short of God’s call to justice and mercy, the Church must speak with humility and courage.
3. Distinguishing Immigration Policy from Racism
(James 2:1–9; Proverbs 24:23; Acts 10:34–35)
Immigration policy is not synonymous with racism. I recognize that faithful Christians may hold differing views on immigration law, border security, and national policy without harboring racial animus. Disagreement on policy does not, by itself, constitute prejudice.
At the same time, Scripture warns against partiality and commands vigilance where systems or practices devalue people based on ethnicity, language, or social standing. I recognize that policies we may agree with must be questioned if applied unjustly, weaponized to target people based on their ethnicity, and/or misusing laws in an unjust manner. Therefore, I believe the Church must reject racialized hatred, the misapplication of law, and careless accusations that shut down honest moral discernment. Truthful conversation requires charity, clarity, and restraint.
4. A Call to Pastoral Presence and Healing
(2 Corinthians 1:3–4; Ephesians 4:15–16; Psalm 34:18)
In moments of communal trauma, the Church’s first calling is presence. I am part of a Kingdom community called to be a people who draw near to the brokenhearted, offering prayer, listening, and practical care. This includes ministering to those who are fearful, grieving, angry, or confused—without demanding uniform political conclusions.
I need to recommit myself to being a person of peace rather than escalation, a person who speaks the truth in love, and prayerfully ask that the grace, truth, and peace of Christ might govern my conversations. Healing takes time, and pastoral care must not be rushed or politicized. Neither must I be silent in the name of “unity” — that will ultimately prove shallow and false if it is defined by political alignment rather than allegiance to Christ and His Kingdom. Unity is not established or strengthened by surrendering to the least common denominator or avoidance.
Empty is the worship that stands to sing praises on Sunday but does not bow in surrender to His revelation of justice, morality, grace, and truth.
5. Bearing Faithful Witness in a Divided Public Square
(Micah 6:8; Matthew 5:9; Galatians 5:22–23)
As Spirit-filled believers, I trust the Holy Spirit to guide us into lives marked by justice, mercy, humility, and peace. Our public witness must reflect the character of Christ—resisting demonization, rejecting a rush to violence, and refusing to reduce complex realities to slogans or binary choices.
We are called neither to uncritical defense of institutions nor to reactive condemnation, but to thoughtful, prayerful engagement rooted in Scripture and shaped by love for our neighbor. In doing so, we seek to honor Christ, care for the vulnerable, and contribute to a more humane and truthful public life.
Living with a prayerful commitment…
(Colossians 3:12–15)
Can I (we?) recommit ourselves to a prayerful posture of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience? Will I (we?) pray for comfort for the grieving, wisdom for leaders, accountability where needed, and peace in our communities? Above all, will I (we?) pray that the love of Christ would truly rule our hearts and guide our response in these difficult days.
As I write this, I am mindful of 2 wise saints. First, G.K. Chesterton’s answer to the London Times’ inquiry, “What’s wrong with the world?
I am… The heart of the human problem is the problem of the human heart.
Finally, I close with these words John Stott penned 50 years ago:
“We are sent into the world, like Jesus, to serve. In this, we should have no ulterior motive. True, the gospel lacks visibility if we merely preach it, and it lacks credibility if we who preach it are only interested in souls and have no concern for the welfare of people’s bodies, situations, and communities. Yet the reason for our acceptance of social responsibility is not primarily to give the gospel the visibility or credibility it would otherwise lack, but simple, uncomplicated compassion. Love has no need to justify itself. It merely expresses itself in service wherever it sees need.”
I believe, this continues to be our Christian mission in this 21st century world. Let’s embody the theology we confess and the Lord we cling to.
