The Department of War Cannot Control Jesus
By A Country Pastor
Insubordination? Yes. Always.
The Department of War has just released its newly consolidated religious classifications for the military. The headlines focus on categories. The debates focus on categories. The arguments focus on categories. Yet the categories are not the real story. The real story is much older than this administration, much older than this country, and much older than the Department of War itself. The real story is that man has always wanted to control religion.
Religion has long been one of the most effective tools for creating order within a society. Pharaoh understood it. Kings understood it. Empires understood it. Governments understood it. A common religion can create a common identity, a common moral framework, and a common understanding of authority. Throughout history, rulers discovered that controlling religion was often easier than controlling people one by one. Religion can stabilize a society. It can reinforce authority. It can create loyalty. That is why power has so often been drawn toward religion. The temptation has never been merely to practice faith. The temptation has been to harness faith.
The world has always preferred a manageable God. A predictable God. A tribal God. A national God. A God who blesses our side, our assumptions, our politics, and our ambitions. The military’s categorization of religion is simply the latest chapter in a story that has been unfolding for thousands of years. Pharaoh wanted religion he could manage. Rome wanted religion it could manage. Religious authorities wanted religion they could manage. Governments have always preferred a faith that supports the existing order. The names change. The uniforms change. The institutions change. The temptation never changes.
Man has always wanted a religion he can control.
Jesus keeps refusing to cooperate.
When Jesus walked this earth, there was already a powerful government. There was already a military. There was already a religious establishment. There were already people who believed they knew exactly where everyone belonged. Rome had its systems. The religious authorities had theirs. The powerful drew lines, built walls, and established boundaries. Yet Jesus spent much of his ministry crossing those boundaries. He ate with people he was not supposed to eat with. He touched people he was not supposed to touch. He welcomed people others rejected. He crossed lines respectable people carefully protected (Luke 5:29-32; Luke 19:1-10). Everywhere Jesus went, he seemed to create discomfort among those who preferred life neat, organized, predictable, and under control.
There was a war going on in Jesus’ day, but Jesus was not fighting Rome’s war. Rome understood force. Rome understood domination. Rome understood how to maintain order. The religious authorities understood influence. The powerful understood control. Yet Jesus was proclaiming a Kingdom built on entirely different values. He taught people to love enemies (Matthew 5:43-48). He taught people to bless those who cursed them (Luke 6:27-28). He taught people to forgive again and again (Matthew 18:21-22). He taught people that the greatest among them should become servants (Mark 10:42-45). In a world built on power, Jesus preached love. In a world built on domination, Jesus preached service. In a world built on winning, Jesus preached sacrifice.
That is the tension between man’s way and God’s way that runs throughout Scripture. Man’s way seeks control while God’s way seeks transformation. Man’s way seeks power over people while God’s way seeks love for people. Man’s way seeks domination while God’s way seeks reconciliation. Man’s way builds kingdoms through force. God’s way builds the Kingdom through love. No wonder both religious power and political power eventually agreed that Jesus had become a problem. Jesus was not building their kingdom. Jesus was proclaiming God’s Kingdom (John 18:36).
The Bible is a love story. That may sound simple, but it explains why Jesus was so difficult for the powerful to manage. Love does not stay where power tells it to stay. Love crosses borders. Love crosses tribes. Love crosses labels. Love sees people before it sees categories. Love refuses to remain safely inside the systems built to contain it. The powerful could categorize religion. They could categorize people. They could categorize tribes. They could categorize nations. They could never quite categorize love. And they could never quite control the One who embodied it.
That is one reason the phrase “Jesus-Christian” continues to resonate with me. Not because the world needs another category. Goodness knows we already have enough of those. In many ways, the word Christian has accumulated two thousand years of political, cultural, denominational, and tribal baggage. People hear the word and often picture a movement, a voting bloc, a denomination, or a culture. Putting Jesus first is simply a reminder of who is supposed to be at the center. The goal is not Christianity as a tribe. The goal is Jesus. The goal is not defending a label. The goal is following the One who said, “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19).
There is no question that military service can involve tremendous sacrifice. Men and women have risked and given their lives for this country, and that sacrifice deserves respect. Yet carrying the name Christian has often become comfortable in ways that walking the path of Jesus never was. Following Jesus cost the disciples their comfort, their security, their reputations, and often their lives (Matthew 16:24-25). Following Jesus meant standing against the powers of their day. Following Jesus meant loving enemies. Following Jesus meant welcoming strangers. Following Jesus meant caring for those society pushed aside through the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Following Jesus meant placing God’s Kingdom above every earthly allegiance. Walking the path Jesus walked has never been risk-free because love threatens systems that depend on fear, division, and power.
The question is not whether we belong to the right category. The question is not whether we carry the right label. The question is not whether we belong to the right tribe. The question is whether we are walking where Jesus walked. The goal is not becoming part of one more subgroup. The goal is not winning a culture war. The goal is not defending a category. The goal is Jesus. Not merely worshiping Jesus. Not merely talking about Jesus. Not merely claiming Jesus. Walking the path Jesus walked.
The good news is that the invitation remains exactly the same today as it was two thousand years ago. Jesus is still calling people to follow him. Not into a denomination. Not into a category. Not into a political movement. Not into a culture war. Into a life shaped by love of God and love of neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). Into a life shaped by grace, mercy, compassion, forgiveness, and service. Into a Kingdom that does not operate according to the rules of this world (John 18:36).
The Department of War cannot categorize Jesus. Rome could not categorize him. The religious authorities could not categorize him. The empire could not control him. The powerful could not contain him. They all tried. They are still trying. Yet Jesus continues crossing the lines man draws. He continues loving people others reject. He continues challenging systems that place power above people. He continues calling people beyond tribes, labels, and categories into the Kingdom of God.
The world will continue drawing lines. Governments will continue creating classifications. Institutions will continue organizing people into boxes. That is what institutions do. Yet Jesus never seemed particularly interested in staying inside the boxes built for him. He kept crossing boundaries. He kept loving the wrong people. He kept challenging the powerful. He kept inviting ordinary people into the Kingdom of God. The invitation remains exactly what it was two thousand years ago: “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19). Not into a category. Not into a tribe. Not into a culture war. Into a life shaped by love of God and love of neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). The Bible is a love story, and love has always been difficult for the powerful to control. Perhaps that is why they have spent so much time trying.
By A Country Pastor
Insubordination? Yes. Always.
The Department of War has just released its newly consolidated religious classifications for the military. The headlines focus on categories. The debates focus on categories. The arguments focus on categories. Yet the categories are not the real story. The real story is much older than this administration, much older than this country, and much older than the Department of War itself. The real story is that man has always wanted to control religion.
Religion has long been one of the most effective tools for creating order within a society. Pharaoh understood it. Kings understood it. Empires understood it. Governments understood it. A common religion can create a common identity, a common moral framework, and a common understanding of authority. Throughout history, rulers discovered that controlling religion was often easier than controlling people one by one. Religion can stabilize a society. It can reinforce authority. It can create loyalty. That is why power has so often been drawn toward religion. The temptation has never been merely to practice faith. The temptation has been to harness faith.
The world has always preferred a manageable God. A predictable God. A tribal God. A national God. A God who blesses our side, our assumptions, our politics, and our ambitions. The military’s categorization of religion is simply the latest chapter in a story that has been unfolding for thousands of years. Pharaoh wanted religion he could manage. Rome wanted religion it could manage. Religious authorities wanted religion they could manage. Governments have always preferred a faith that supports the existing order. The names change. The uniforms change. The institutions change. The temptation never changes.
Man has always wanted a religion he can control.
Jesus keeps refusing to cooperate.
When Jesus walked this earth, there was already a powerful government. There was already a military. There was already a religious establishment. There were already people who believed they knew exactly where everyone belonged. Rome had its systems. The religious authorities had theirs. The powerful drew lines, built walls, and established boundaries. Yet Jesus spent much of his ministry crossing those boundaries. He ate with people he was not supposed to eat with. He touched people he was not supposed to touch. He welcomed people others rejected. He crossed lines respectable people carefully protected (Luke 5:29-32; Luke 19:1-10). Everywhere Jesus went, he seemed to create discomfort among those who preferred life neat, organized, predictable, and under control.
There was a war going on in Jesus’ day, but Jesus was not fighting Rome’s war. Rome understood force. Rome understood domination. Rome understood how to maintain order. The religious authorities understood influence. The powerful understood control. Yet Jesus was proclaiming a Kingdom built on entirely different values. He taught people to love enemies (Matthew 5:43-48). He taught people to bless those who cursed them (Luke 6:27-28). He taught people to forgive again and again (Matthew 18:21-22). He taught people that the greatest among them should become servants (Mark 10:42-45). In a world built on power, Jesus preached love. In a world built on domination, Jesus preached service. In a world built on winning, Jesus preached sacrifice.
That is the tension between man’s way and God’s way that runs throughout Scripture. Man’s way seeks control while God’s way seeks transformation. Man’s way seeks power over people while God’s way seeks love for people. Man’s way seeks domination while God’s way seeks reconciliation. Man’s way builds kingdoms through force. God’s way builds the Kingdom through love. No wonder both religious power and political power eventually agreed that Jesus had become a problem. Jesus was not building their kingdom. Jesus was proclaiming God’s Kingdom (John 18:36).
The Bible is a love story. That may sound simple, but it explains why Jesus was so difficult for the powerful to manage. Love does not stay where power tells it to stay. Love crosses borders. Love crosses tribes. Love crosses labels. Love sees people before it sees categories. Love refuses to remain safely inside the systems built to contain it. The powerful could categorize religion. They could categorize people. They could categorize tribes. They could categorize nations. They could never quite categorize love. And they could never quite control the One who embodied it.
That is one reason the phrase “Jesus-Christian” continues to resonate with me. Not because the world needs another category. Goodness knows we already have enough of those. In many ways, the word Christian has accumulated two thousand years of political, cultural, denominational, and tribal baggage. People hear the word and often picture a movement, a voting bloc, a denomination, or a culture. Putting Jesus first is simply a reminder of who is supposed to be at the center. The goal is not Christianity as a tribe. The goal is Jesus. The goal is not defending a label. The goal is following the One who said, “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19).
There is no question that military service can involve tremendous sacrifice. Men and women have risked and given their lives for this country, and that sacrifice deserves respect. Yet carrying the name Christian has often become comfortable in ways that walking the path of Jesus never was. Following Jesus cost the disciples their comfort, their security, their reputations, and often their lives (Matthew 16:24-25). Following Jesus meant standing against the powers of their day. Following Jesus meant loving enemies. Following Jesus meant welcoming strangers. Following Jesus meant caring for those society pushed aside through the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Following Jesus meant placing God’s Kingdom above every earthly allegiance. Walking the path Jesus walked has never been risk-free because love threatens systems that depend on fear, division, and power.
The question is not whether we belong to the right category. The question is not whether we carry the right label. The question is not whether we belong to the right tribe. The question is whether we are walking where Jesus walked. The goal is not becoming part of one more subgroup. The goal is not winning a culture war. The goal is not defending a category. The goal is Jesus. Not merely worshiping Jesus. Not merely talking about Jesus. Not merely claiming Jesus. Walking the path Jesus walked.
The good news is that the invitation remains exactly the same today as it was two thousand years ago. Jesus is still calling people to follow him. Not into a denomination. Not into a category. Not into a political movement. Not into a culture war. Into a life shaped by love of God and love of neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). Into a life shaped by grace, mercy, compassion, forgiveness, and service. Into a Kingdom that does not operate according to the rules of this world (John 18:36).
The Department of War cannot categorize Jesus. Rome could not categorize him. The religious authorities could not categorize him. The empire could not control him. The powerful could not contain him. They all tried. They are still trying. Yet Jesus continues crossing the lines man draws. He continues loving people others reject. He continues challenging systems that place power above people. He continues calling people beyond tribes, labels, and categories into the Kingdom of God.
The world will continue drawing lines. Governments will continue creating classifications. Institutions will continue organizing people into boxes. That is what institutions do. Yet Jesus never seemed particularly interested in staying inside the boxes built for him. He kept crossing boundaries. He kept loving the wrong people. He kept challenging the powerful. He kept inviting ordinary people into the Kingdom of God. The invitation remains exactly what it was two thousand years ago: “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19). Not into a category. Not into a tribe. Not into a culture war. Into a life shaped by love of God and love of neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). The Bible is a love story, and love has always been difficult for the powerful to control. Perhaps that is why they have spent so much time trying.
The Department of War Cannot Control Jesus
By A Country Pastor
Insubordination? Yes. Always.
The Department of War has just released its newly consolidated religious classifications for the military. The headlines focus on categories. The debates focus on categories. The arguments focus on categories. Yet the categories are not the real story. The real story is much older than this administration, much older than this country, and much older than the Department of War itself. The real story is that man has always wanted to control religion.
Religion has long been one of the most effective tools for creating order within a society. Pharaoh understood it. Kings understood it. Empires understood it. Governments understood it. A common religion can create a common identity, a common moral framework, and a common understanding of authority. Throughout history, rulers discovered that controlling religion was often easier than controlling people one by one. Religion can stabilize a society. It can reinforce authority. It can create loyalty. That is why power has so often been drawn toward religion. The temptation has never been merely to practice faith. The temptation has been to harness faith.
The world has always preferred a manageable God. A predictable God. A tribal God. A national God. A God who blesses our side, our assumptions, our politics, and our ambitions. The military’s categorization of religion is simply the latest chapter in a story that has been unfolding for thousands of years. Pharaoh wanted religion he could manage. Rome wanted religion it could manage. Religious authorities wanted religion they could manage. Governments have always preferred a faith that supports the existing order. The names change. The uniforms change. The institutions change. The temptation never changes.
Man has always wanted a religion he can control.
Jesus keeps refusing to cooperate.
When Jesus walked this earth, there was already a powerful government. There was already a military. There was already a religious establishment. There were already people who believed they knew exactly where everyone belonged. Rome had its systems. The religious authorities had theirs. The powerful drew lines, built walls, and established boundaries. Yet Jesus spent much of his ministry crossing those boundaries. He ate with people he was not supposed to eat with. He touched people he was not supposed to touch. He welcomed people others rejected. He crossed lines respectable people carefully protected (Luke 5:29-32; Luke 19:1-10). Everywhere Jesus went, he seemed to create discomfort among those who preferred life neat, organized, predictable, and under control.
There was a war going on in Jesus’ day, but Jesus was not fighting Rome’s war. Rome understood force. Rome understood domination. Rome understood how to maintain order. The religious authorities understood influence. The powerful understood control. Yet Jesus was proclaiming a Kingdom built on entirely different values. He taught people to love enemies (Matthew 5:43-48). He taught people to bless those who cursed them (Luke 6:27-28). He taught people to forgive again and again (Matthew 18:21-22). He taught people that the greatest among them should become servants (Mark 10:42-45). In a world built on power, Jesus preached love. In a world built on domination, Jesus preached service. In a world built on winning, Jesus preached sacrifice.
That is the tension between man’s way and God’s way that runs throughout Scripture. Man’s way seeks control while God’s way seeks transformation. Man’s way seeks power over people while God’s way seeks love for people. Man’s way seeks domination while God’s way seeks reconciliation. Man’s way builds kingdoms through force. God’s way builds the Kingdom through love. No wonder both religious power and political power eventually agreed that Jesus had become a problem. Jesus was not building their kingdom. Jesus was proclaiming God’s Kingdom (John 18:36).
The Bible is a love story. That may sound simple, but it explains why Jesus was so difficult for the powerful to manage. Love does not stay where power tells it to stay. Love crosses borders. Love crosses tribes. Love crosses labels. Love sees people before it sees categories. Love refuses to remain safely inside the systems built to contain it. The powerful could categorize religion. They could categorize people. They could categorize tribes. They could categorize nations. They could never quite categorize love. And they could never quite control the One who embodied it.
That is one reason the phrase “Jesus-Christian” continues to resonate with me. Not because the world needs another category. Goodness knows we already have enough of those. In many ways, the word Christian has accumulated two thousand years of political, cultural, denominational, and tribal baggage. People hear the word and often picture a movement, a voting bloc, a denomination, or a culture. Putting Jesus first is simply a reminder of who is supposed to be at the center. The goal is not Christianity as a tribe. The goal is Jesus. The goal is not defending a label. The goal is following the One who said, “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19).
There is no question that military service can involve tremendous sacrifice. Men and women have risked and given their lives for this country, and that sacrifice deserves respect. Yet carrying the name Christian has often become comfortable in ways that walking the path of Jesus never was. Following Jesus cost the disciples their comfort, their security, their reputations, and often their lives (Matthew 16:24-25). Following Jesus meant standing against the powers of their day. Following Jesus meant loving enemies. Following Jesus meant welcoming strangers. Following Jesus meant caring for those society pushed aside through the story of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37). Following Jesus meant placing God’s Kingdom above every earthly allegiance. Walking the path Jesus walked has never been risk-free because love threatens systems that depend on fear, division, and power.
The question is not whether we belong to the right category. The question is not whether we carry the right label. The question is not whether we belong to the right tribe. The question is whether we are walking where Jesus walked. The goal is not becoming part of one more subgroup. The goal is not winning a culture war. The goal is not defending a category. The goal is Jesus. Not merely worshiping Jesus. Not merely talking about Jesus. Not merely claiming Jesus. Walking the path Jesus walked.
The good news is that the invitation remains exactly the same today as it was two thousand years ago. Jesus is still calling people to follow him. Not into a denomination. Not into a category. Not into a political movement. Not into a culture war. Into a life shaped by love of God and love of neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). Into a life shaped by grace, mercy, compassion, forgiveness, and service. Into a Kingdom that does not operate according to the rules of this world (John 18:36).
The Department of War cannot categorize Jesus. Rome could not categorize him. The religious authorities could not categorize him. The empire could not control him. The powerful could not contain him. They all tried. They are still trying. Yet Jesus continues crossing the lines man draws. He continues loving people others reject. He continues challenging systems that place power above people. He continues calling people beyond tribes, labels, and categories into the Kingdom of God.
The world will continue drawing lines. Governments will continue creating classifications. Institutions will continue organizing people into boxes. That is what institutions do. Yet Jesus never seemed particularly interested in staying inside the boxes built for him. He kept crossing boundaries. He kept loving the wrong people. He kept challenging the powerful. He kept inviting ordinary people into the Kingdom of God. The invitation remains exactly what it was two thousand years ago: “Follow me” (Matthew 4:19). Not into a category. Not into a tribe. Not into a culture war. Into a life shaped by love of God and love of neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). The Bible is a love story, and love has always been difficult for the powerful to control. Perhaps that is why they have spent so much time trying.
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