Pick No Side

We are not waiting for our nation to win. Or for the right political party to take the helm. We wait for the Lord. And in that waiting, we work: Loving God, loving others, and serving both.

On Thursday, the World Cup kicks off here in North America.  On Friday, the United States men's team will go up against Paraguay right here in Los Angeles, the city of Angels. 

This seems rather appropriate place to start, considering right now, the angels are prepping to handle the massive storm of prayers that seem to flood heaven in every four years.

​There’s something to be said for how a global event like the World Cup can unite people. Or at least get us to focus on one, singular goal.In this case, a literal goal.

We paint our faces and we wrap ourselves in flags, believing that if our team wins, our little corner the world is somehow, briefly, going to be alright.

Whether you’re watching the games in a crowded bar in Downtown Los Angeles, or crammed into a friends flat in London, or chanting and dancing a plaza in Buenos Aires, for ninety minutes, petty differences are set aside while people across every race, gender, and economic class come together to hope and pray.

Which makes it kind of poetic the lectionary offers us this Psalm today. It comes to us at a time when our own nation is busy picking sides.

On the eve of our nation’s 250 birthday, the church faces a dangerous temptation: belief the flag our team waves is synonymous with the Kingdom we are all called to serve.

In a culture built on rugged individualism and exceptionalism, the American Christian church has often been tempted to believe our strength is our salvation.

​I believe that Psalm 33 can help us rethink that narrative.

4 For the word of the Lord is upright,
    and all his work is done in faithfulness.
5 He loves righteousness and justice;
    the earth is full of the steadfast love of the Lord. . . . 

10 The Lord brings the counsel of the nations to nothing;
    he frustrates the plans of the peoples.
11 The counsel of the Lord stands for ever,
    the thoughts of his heart to all generations.
12 Happy is the nation whose God is the Lord,
    the people whom he has chosen as his heritage.
13 The Lord looks down from heaven;
    he sees all humankind. . . . 

16 A king is not saved by his great army;
    a warrior is not delivered by his great strength.
17 The war horse is a vain hope for victory,
    and by its great might it cannot save. . . .
20 Our soul waits for the Lord;
    he is our help and shield.
21 Our heart is glad in him,
    because we trust in his holy name.
22 Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us,
    even as we hope in you.

Most scholars call this an 'orphan' psalm, because it’s not attached to someone, like King David, or the choir master.  But even without a name, it forces us to look at our allegiances and ask who or what are we worshiping?

This was question the Jewish exiles were faced with every time they sang this song of praise to God. Like them, we have hold the difficult space between the precarious stability of nations and the unshakeable nature of God’s covenantal love.

Amid the rising voice of Christian Nationalism, many followers of Jesus feel like exiles in our own land.  But the truth is, it’s not our land. It’s never been anyone’s land, but God’s. The same is true for the Church Paul so aptly compares to a body made of different parts.

Our border walls, our nationalities, and even our doctrinal differences are feckless to the One who created the entire cosmos.

As I always try to remind us as much as possible, we are a part of God. And God is a part of us. All of us.  Until we recognize the divine image in ourselves, and in all people, until we realize our identity is anchored in God’s love, we’ll always be tempted to seek security in our own strength.

If our hope is tied to a nation’s stability, or a World Cup victory, or even a particular political outcome, then our faith will remain at the mercy of things we cannot control.  

But when God is our hope, when we see that our roots are grounded in the one true source of all life, I believe the entire world can share in a peace that can’t be shaken by breaking news or the shifting tides of geopolitical power.

I love Psalm 33 because it reminds us that we’re made for something far more beautiful than a flag. It invites us to look past the many different patches of grass our teams defend, to see that the whole earth is "full of the steadfast love of the Lord."

The Hebrew word here is “hesed,” the steadfast love God’s love. This isn’t a soft, romantic type feeling. Hesed is the fierce, steadfast, covenantal loyalty of a God who refuses to let go of us.

Like a weary father who drives through the night to bail his son out of jail, or a mom who spends day after thankless day spoon-feeding her disabled child, hesed makes it impossible for God to have a favorite team or empire to root for. But it does make it easy for God to erase the lines we draw in the sand.

Although the psalmist writes, “Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord,”  we must not take this as a divine endorsement.

We’ve seen how this verse has been weaponized for political power. Christian Nationalism, for example, interprets this to mean: God has chosen America, and therefore, our laws, our wars, and our interests are divinely sanctioned. I believe that’s a distortion of scripture, and negates the power of God's love and grace.

So, I would like to say to those who subscribe to this idea: To have God as your Lord isn't a badge of privilege. It is a call to total submission and complete accountability before God.

If you want to know what that means, look at Micah 6:8 that states, what does the Lord ask of you but to do mercy, love justice, and walk humbly with your God. And in Matthew 25, Jesus outlines the specifics of what that entails.

To declare God as Lord holds us to a standard of radical justice that no human empire can ever fully achieve.

This means our primary loyalty isn’t to a flag or political party; but to the One "watching from his throne on all the inhabitants of the earth."

I believe this is part of what Jesus was referring to when he said, “The first will be last, and the last will be first.” Jesus, the embodiment of God’s hesed, didn’t come to secure our borders or win our wars. He came to return us back to God who refuses to let us go.

To borrow from Simone Weil, the belief that our armies and borders can shield us from harm, only crush our capacity for love.

The Psalmist writes, “A king is not saved by his great army; a warrior is not delivered by his great strength. The war horse is a vain hope for victory, and by its great might it cannot save.”

Psalm 33 reminds us that empires and championship teams are transient; like grass that withers in the sun. History is a graveyard of "great powers" that believed they were the main character in God’s story.

Jesus faced those powers, not with a sword but with the radical humility of the cross. Jesus showed us with his life, how the currency of God’s Kingdom runs on righteousness and justice, not military or economic dominance.

Every World Cup team strives to be the best. But only one team will come out the victor. When we strive for what God wants, we all are risen up in glory.

Competitive thinking is fine for sports, but fatal for the soul. We are not in competition for God’s love and grace. Hesed isn’t a trophy we earn, but a gift given to anyone who wants it.

Faith isn’t a winner-takes-all contest. But it takes faith for us to realize that in God’s kingdom, we’re all on the same team.

So when you see someone from another side, be it a country, political party, or religious group , remember they are not an enemy. They are the beloved, made in the image of the same God who calls you by name.

Jesus essentially gives us one command to live by: to be bearers of God’s hesed, no matter what team we’re facing.  

Paul takes this further stating, “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28).

As I have been saying a lot lately, Christ is the great unifier. The universal presence of God, woven into all things. When we are able to recognize that Christ made us all holy and sacred beings, we can then turn our swords into plowshares.  And our flags into faithfulness to the One who is faithful to us to a fault.

This takes the constant work of daily repentance, of being mindful to those around us, and reframing our thinking to see the world as God sees it. Where justice and mercy are the outward expression of our inward worship.

When we offer forgiveness, or sacrifice our want for another’s need, or serve the vulnerable and care for the cries of others, then we can honestly proclaim, “the God of justice is my Lord."

But all this begins with the humble prayer of this orphan psalm: "Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us, even as we hope in you."

We are not waiting for our nation to win. Or for the right political party to take the helm. We wait for the Lord. And in that waiting, we work: Loving God, loving others, and serving both.

When the final whistle blows and the flags are put away, the scandalous, unshakeable love of God remains. Because love is the goal that wins the game.

So let’s us put down our flags, and pick up our crosses. Let’s continue the work of Jesus. Walking in his footsteps, building up God’s Kingdom with our radical, boundary-crossing, humble, and steadfast love.

This is how we become a people who can boldly declare victory. “For blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.”