Culture

On the Believer’s Dual Citizenship, Part 1: Introduction

October 27, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Christians have always disagreed over their responsibilities to earthly governments. Jesus, of course, declared to Pilate that his kingdom “is not of this world” (Jn 18.36), leading some since to deny, or at least resist, all earthly kingdoms. Most Christians, though, have tried to follow Paul’s mandate that we should respect “the powers that be” (Ro 13.1), but they have disagreed significantly over what exactly that should look like.

Augustine laid the foundation for “two kingdoms” thinking in his classic work The City of God, in which he asserted that all humans are citizens of either the city of God, loving God, or the city of man (Babylon), loving self. In his view, Christians are also citizens of earthly kingdoms, though only temporarily, and should be good citizens, seeking to improve society while realizing that complete success is impossible.

The medieval Roman Catholic Church gave lip service to this idea—Augustine is, after all, one of the great Fathers of the Church—but various popes sought to exert authority over kings to an extent that rendered the latter essentially powerless. The most well-known example of this is when Pope Gregory VII refused to answer the door at the Canossa Castle in northern Italy, leaving Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV standing barefoot outside in the snow for three days (1077).

The Reformers, who for obvious reasons were not inclined to follow slavishly the Roman Catholic example, mostly returned to something close to Augustine‘s position. Calvin taught that Christians should respect and obey the government—not surprising, since for a time in Geneva he essentially was the government, even ordering capital punishment for heretics as he deemed it appropriate.

These days most evangelical Christians make much of the Romans 13 passage, reserving civil disobedience to matters where they view the government as impinging on matters of biblical command and thus personal conscience. They will disagree with one another on precisely when civil disobedience is necessary*, but they will generally agree on the abstract principle.

In some non-Christian minds this “dual citizenship” seems inappropriate. On November 10, 2004, speaking at the University of Chicago the day after that year’s presidential election, humorist Garrison Keillor said, “I’m trying to organize support for a constitutional amendment to deny voting rights to born-again Christians. I feel if your citizenship is in Heaven—like a born again Christian’s is—you should give up your [US] citizenship. Sorry, but this is my new cause. If born again Christians are allowed to vote in this country, then why not Canadians?”

Now, I’m pretty sure Keillor was joking—first, because that’s what he was getting paid to do, and second, because as far as I know he never acted on those words. But it’s easy to see how this doctrine might give pause to a non-Christian or two.

Well. Given that conservative evangelicals seem to have a robust theology of earthly citizenship based on Romans 13 and are (mostly) in agreement as to its broad application, I think it’s worth giving some attention to our other citizenship—what Augustine called “the city of God.”

How do we live for the eternal king?

And how do we demonstrate longing for the eternal city?

Next time.

* In a contemporary example, the US Supreme Court is deciding this year a Christian therapist’s objection to Colorado’s restrictions on “conversion therapy” for homosexual and/or transgender youth. Practicing evangelical licensed therapists in the state disagree over whether their colleagues can abide by the existing state law in good conscience and in obedience to Scripture. Some think the plaintiff’s objection is unnecessary by biblical standards.

Photo by Global Residence Index on Unsplash

On Revival

October 23, 2025 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

There’s a lot of talk about revival these days. National networks are noticing and reporting on a surge of interest in Christianity, particularly among young men on the political right. Many are attributing it to the assassination of Charlie Kirk, with perhaps a reaction against policies hostile to Christian thinking that are widely viewed as “nutty.” The most obvious of these, I suppose, would be the transgender movement, especially policies promoting the participation of biological males in women’s sports and the encouraging of puberty-blocker hormone treatments and surgeries in minors. Many pundits think that young males have just had it up to here with what they see as the fruits of secularism and are turning to Christianity.

Maybe they are. I certainly would like to see that happen. (I’d also like to see a similar surge in that thinking among young females, but it doesn’t appear to be happening.)

But I’ve noticed something about the current discussions of this phenomenon that gives me pause.

The evidences that I’ve seen cited for this revival are all external.

By that I mean things like attendance at Charlie Kirk’s funeral, and increased attendance at church, and Bible sales, and app downloads, and streaming of Christian music. News outlets and podcasters are chattering about these statistical shifts.

Now, these are all good things to one degree or another, but they’re not revival.

I suppose that in order to support that statement, I need to define my terms.

Historically, the term revival has been used of a renewal of dedication to God among Christians. It’s not technically a wave of conversions; that’s evangelism. For our purposes, though, I’m happy to just lump those two phenomena together as a broad move toward Christian thinking, regardless of the subject’s previous religious state.

The little itch that I need to scratch is the apparent confusion between a sociological phenomenon and a genuine experience of Christian conversion or renewal.

The Bible speaks of revival, or conversion, as a work of God’s Spirit in the individual heart. The Spirit convicts someone of his sin; he draws him to himself. As a result, the person repents of that sin and turns to Christ, seeking him and trusting him as the source of forgiveness and spiritual life. He becomes a servant of God, and his priorities are radically reordered.

Maybe that’s happening on a large scale today. I hope so. But the simple fact is that we can’t possibly know that yet. Jesus said that we know his followers by their fruits; and Paul names the fruit of the Spirit as a set of character traits: love, joy, peace, endurance, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, and self-control (Ga 5.22-23).

We see precious little of that these days, on the right or the left. We’ll just have to wait and see.

Now, I really don’t think I’m the curmudgeon here (shades of Andy Rooney), or the stereotypical fundamentalist (“no fun, too much damn, and not enough mental”). I think the body of this blog demonstrates that I’m fundamentally an optimist. But I know from experience that young people get swept up in various emotional causes. I note that a recent study suggests that the transgender movement among young people may be powered as much by peer pressure as genuine sexual dysmorphia.

Wouldn’t it be ironic if the response to Charlie Kirk’s death were in any significant way another example of the same phenomenon?

So what do we do?

To start, we seek to understand accurately what’s happening. Becoming a Republican, or a fan of President Trump, or of Charlie Kirk, is not regeneration. Going to church is not conversion; in fact church is designed to be a gathering of people who are already believers, not a way to become one. Listening to Christian music, especially considering how broadly defined that genre is, may not be evidence of any particular mindset.

Let’s see what’s actually there, and not what we wish for.

And then, we steward the opportunity this social phenomenon represents. We interact with those who show up in our churches, showing them what the Scripture says about regeneration and the Spirit who gives that life, and showing them what the consequent life of sanctification looks like. We challenge the deviancies of professing Christians on both the right and the left. And we do these things in a way that reflects the fruit of the Spirit, bringing grace, mercy, and peace to those we serve.

Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash

On Memes

October 6, 2025 by Dan Olinger 2 Comments

This past week I came across a link to an interview about memes. It sprang from a news story about something—I’ll just say, um, edgy—that the president did, posting a meme that portrayed Hakeem Jeffries, the House Minority Leader, in a sombrero and stereotypical moustache. It wasn’t exactly high art, just a sloppy cut-and-paste job—it was, after all, a meme, and one of the defining features of memes is sloppy cut and paste. The White House released it in both photo and video form; The Guardian and numerous other outlets called the latter a “deep-fake video,” but I don’t think the production values of the video nearly rise, or sink, to that level, though it did put words, including vulgar ones, in Sen. Schumer’s mouth.

The conversation in the podcast—I assume that’s what this interview was part of—turned to the social significance of memes in the current culture, in conjunction with a discussion about whether this particular meme was racist. The guest observed that when he was a young journalist, he would have thought that it was, but that now he’s inclined to see it as a form of political satire. In the process he seemed to be defining memes as a new, creative literary form, combining kitschy art (that was not his term) with creative social comment. I took him to mean that they are an ironic combination of lowbrow graphics with much more nuanced implied commentary.

I don’t think I agree with him—about the novelty, I mean. It seems to me that memes are simply another form in a long tradition of cartooning. This meme, I think, is an example of a specific form of cartooning, the political cartoon, in the tradition of Thomas Nast, but many memes have no political content at all, thus falling into the general category of cartooning. This “new” art form has been birthed by a couple of social factors: the fact that the internet has made everyone a publisher (there was lots of commentary on that 25 years ago or so), and the rise of simple and efficient computer-aided graphics in association with word processing. These factors were new 25 years ago with the advent of the web, but they’re common now; and as I say, the art form of social commentary through graphic design goes all the way back to the ancients.

And that means that the edginess, the acidity, the, well, meanness, of the art form is absolutely nothing new. I easily recall the Palatine Alexamenos Graffito, which pictures Christ on the cross with the head of a donkey; and I’m sure that those with wider expertise in the ancient world could cite numerous examples from the inscriptions and literature that are centuries older than that.

There is a power in cartooning that derives from the cleverness of the nonverbal art. All humans react, at some level or other, to the ironic twist, the “Gotcha!” of a new insight, a new take, especially when it involves a heated social controversy. It makes the proponents laugh, and it makes the opponents rage.

It occurs to me that this rhetorical power is accompanied by a counterbalancing danger, which is apparent in this specific meme. Any visual art, such as a political cartoon, is inherently subjective; it allows the viewer to impose a variety of meanings onto it, with what we might call a reader-response reaction; those who see it will interpret it in the light of their own experiences and ideologies. In this case, the president’s opponents will invariably see it as racist, and his supporters will invariably tell the opponents to lighten up—it’s just a joke.

And that will be followed by commentary on the sad socio-political situation of extreme polarization that gives everybody a hair-trigger, knee-jerk response.

Thus, I suppose, has it ever been.

The current situation gives us a frank look at the moral brokenness of humans. We treat our opponents without empathy, and then we criticize them when they respond as emotional beings with strong convictions—as I do to the Alexamenos Graffito. I don’t see mocking of the Son of God, in the act of dying for my sins, as anything near clever. And I ought to be able, therefore, to empathize with emotional responses to the mocking of the deep commitments of my fellow humans, even those with whom I have significant disagreements.

In every generation there are those who decry the lack of empathy. But if history is any guide, it is likely to remain part of our social fabric until Jesus comes.

I find comfort in Jesus’ promise of return and redemption. For those who see that as fiction, I’m afraid I have no realistic long-term comfort to offer.

On Greeting Strangers

October 2, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

This is an Old Guy Observation and Meditation.

I’ve noticed over the decades that the practice of greeting strangers is declining. When you pass someone on the sidewalk—or on the street if there is no sidewalk—fewer and fewer of those someones will look you in the eye, smile, maybe nod, and say “Hello!”

During my student days, my school encouraged a culture where you said hello when you passed someone on campus. Of course, there were logistical constraints; if the sidewalk was crowded (say, between classes), nobody felt the need to greet each of those people—though you might greet friends in the crowd as they came by. More recently I’ve noticed that the practice no longer seems to be part of that culture.

Now, I’m not going all “good old days” here; the old days had their imperfections and irritations, and I, like everybody else, noticed them and complained about them more than I should have. And cultural practices change over time, often for perfectly good reasons. I can think of a couple of reasons the practice of greeting strangers has declined.

The first, I think, is a consequence of the Sexual Revolution of the 1960s, which promoted sex as a simple biological function rather than a blessed consequence of a committed union. Anytime a culture rejects the purpose of a divine gift, that gift will become distorted, and the distorted practice will bring dangers and other harms.

In this case, it’s standard safety practice now for lone women to ignore men they don’t know. With the increase in sex-related crimes since the ’60s*, women don’t want to act friendly in situations they perceive as risky. You look straight ahead and ignore the guy. And that’s good thinking. I’m always conscious of when I’m alone and walking behind a lone woman; I don’t want to cause her anxiety, so I’ll typically walk slower to increase the distance between us or even change my course. And of course, if a lone woman doesn’t greet me on the sidewalk, I take no offense. She has no idea what kind of monster I might be.

A related matter is the increase in sex slavery in more recent years. In particular, children are warned about “stranger danger,” and those warnings are eminently sensible. So if kids don’t greet me, I take no offense at that either; in fact, I’m less inclined than I used to be to greet children I don’t know. Who’s this strange old man, anyway?

A second reason for the decline in greetings is technology—phones and earbuds, most commonly. Lots of people multitask with their walking time, listening to music or podcasts, or catching up on texts. Nothing objectionable about that. I’ve noticed a few occasions where I couldn’t see any earbuds, said hello, and the person just completely ignored me. I try to exercise the biblical principle of giving people the benefit of the doubt (1Co 13.4-7, most directly) and just let it pass. Maybe the problem’s more with my eyes than their ears.

But though I understand the forward march of culture, I miss the old practice of saying howdy.

Speaking of culture, something I’ve noticed in rural Africa is the good reason why hardly anything begins on time: when you’re walking to an appointment, you’ll likely meet someone you know, and of course you’ll stop and greet him, and ask him how his family is—each family member, by name—and take some time to demonstrate that you value his friendship. It’s not seen as rude to keep people at your destination waiting; wouldn’t it be even more rude to brush off someone who’s standing right next to you?

I love the sense that makes.

So Africans—and African-Americans—will talk about “Africa time” and laugh, and I’ve come to appreciate the laughter as a nod to a cultural valuation of grace and love for neighbor. Of course we’re not going to start on time—and that’s a good thing!

I’m not going to grouse about the “defects” of our culture like an old curmudgeon, but I am going to keep looking on-comers in the eye and say howdy if they return my look.

If they don’t, no judgment. But I think our world would be a better place if we were on Africa time.

* There’s complexity to the data, including varying legal definitions of rape and consent, and the question of a possible increase in reporting rather than incidence.

Photo by Weichao Deng on Unsplash

On Protest, Part 4: Protesting Well

July 24, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: First Things | Part 2: The Landscape | Part 3: Levels of Authority

It’s time to get down to brass tacks, as they say. We’ve looked at the key biblical material on authority and civil disobedience; now how do we live that out today?

What do we do when the government—the law—orders us to disobey Scripture?

Let’s get specific. Should you feed and house an illegal immigrant (or undocumented migrant, if you prefer)? Should you hide him from ICE? Should you lie to ICE? Should you try to stop them physically?

You and I have Christian brothers and sisters who are asking themselves these questions right now, and who need answers—right now.

Let me suggest a pathway for thinking through to a wise and right decision.

 First thing first: recognize that God has providentially brought you to this place for His purposes (Ps 37.23). This issue didn’t come out of nowhere, and you are precisely where you are by the will and plan of God. He will provide the wisdom you need to make a right decision.

Further, a significant part of his plan is to develop in you the character of Christ (2Co 3.18). Look for His purpose in your own character development, submit humbly to it, and pursue it. That might include improving your understanding of his Word, interacting appropriately with other believers (especially those further down the path of sanctification than you are), deepening your prayer life—Jesus, the perfect Son of God, felt the need to pray all night sometimes; how about you? and me?

Evaluate your disagreement with the authority figure in light of the Bible’s teaching. Be honest with yourself. And as I noted earlier, consider carefully the thinking of believers, particularly long-time believers, who disagree with you. To do this, you’re going to have to swim against the polarizing forces in the current culture. You’re going to need to talk calmly and respectfully with people you disagree with.

Nobody does that anymore.

Further, recognize your own limitations. You cannot reliably discern motives, nor can you know all the considerations in any decision by an authority. 

If you are convinced that the authority is acting unbiblically, begin by submitting to the authority’s procedure(s) for challenging the decision. It is not an accident that you are under that particular authority. Most of us live in a democratically oriented state system, and there are things we can do short of burning it all down. We can interact with those in authority; and there are legal ways to exert political pressure.

If your conscience, informed by Scripture, forbids you to submit to that authority’s procedures for redress, then disobey humbly and graciously, and submit to the penalty. On the other hand, if you can and do follow the procedures, and the authority overrules your plea, then you need to make the same decision: must you disobey in order to protect your conscience? If so, then do so, and accept whatever penalty the authority determines. 

 Let me add a rider to this. The Bible indicates that Paul responded to government persecution in various ways. As mentioned in the previous post, sometimes he went underground with his civil disobedience (2Co 11.32-33). Some would see that as evidence that you need not disobey publicly and take the penalty. Fair enough.

More often, however, Paul disobeyed publicly and faced the state’s response squarely. But even in these cases his tactics varied. Once, tied to a whipping post, he asserted his right as a Roman citizen by turning to the nearest official and saying essentially, “Say, isn’t it illegal to beat a Roman citizen without a trial?” (Ac 22.24-29). At which point the whip disappeared.

That story always makes me laugh.

Earlier in his career, he used a different tactic. In Philippi, he and his colleague Silas took the beating, making no mention of their rights (Ac 16.22-24). The next day they confronted the authorities by revealing their Roman citizenship (Silas was apparently a citizen too, Ac 16.37), a fact that put these authorities in jeopardy of the death penalty. Paul insisted on a public escort out of town and even took the group by the church’s house (Ac 16.39-40), as if to say, “These are my friends. It would be a shame if anything happened to my friends.”

Is it too strong to say that Paul was blackmailing them? That’s a good question.

Paul knew how the system worked, and he worked it, to his own advantage and to that of the work of the kingdom.

Even an unjust steward knows how to do that (Lk 16.8).

Jesus instructed us all to be “wise as serpents and harmless as doves” (Mt 10.16). In this chaotic culture, he will enable us to do that.

Together.

Photo by Koshu Kunii on Unsplash

On Protest, Part 3: Levels of Authority

July 21, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: First Things | Part 2: The Landscape

Given that the world system, and its inhabitants, are broken, we have to expect that the divinely created order, as represented in the biblical authority structures, will not perfectly conform to the divine standard of justice. Thus those in various degrees of authority over us will at least occasionally be unjust.

What do we do then? Man the barricades? Take it to the streets? Burn it all down?

There are some that think this way. My suspicion is that they’re a relatively small portion of society, but they outsize their influence by the sheer volume of the noise they make. Squeaky wheels, after all, do get greased.

We’ve based our thinking about authority structures on a quick survey of the biblical material. Looking a little more deeply, however, makes a couple of things abundantly clear:

As just noted, our authorities are imperfect.
When they fail in their obligation to promote justice, we have options.

Since God created these authority structures (as noted in the previous post), and since God is Lord of Hosts, Creator of Heaven and Earth, he holds authority over the existing powers, and we owe him obedience in all things. Thus if your home, or state, or church orders you to do something that violates God’s will as expressed in his Word, then you must disobey that earthly authority.

We have multiple examples of this. David ran from King Saul (1S 19.18ff) even while respecting his position as king (1S 24.1-15). Paul escaped from the king of Damascus by going over the wall in the middle of the night (2Co 11.32-33). In an appearance before the Sanhedrin, the Jewish Supreme Court, Paul called the high priest a “whitewashed [and by implication deeply filthy] wall” (Ac 23.3). (To be fair, I note that the interpretation of Paul’s intent here is disputed; some think he didn’t realize to whom he was speaking, as he says in verse 5. But I’m doubtful that he wouldn’t recognize the high priest, and I suspect he was being sarcastic in verse 5, implying that a genuine high priest wouldn’t act this way.)

Most interpreters think the clearest illustration of this principle of Higher Authority is in Acts 4, where the Sanhedrin orders Peter and John to stop preaching about Jesus. This restriction, if obeyed, would clearly be disobedience to Jesus’ last command, the Great Commission, which obligates the two to preach in his name.

Their response is classic:

Whether it be right in the sight of God to hearken unto you more than unto God, judge ye. ²⁰For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard (Ac 4.19-20).

In the Olinger Revised Version, it reads,

You do what you want; we’re going to do what we have to do.

And they continued to preach, directly disobeying their governmental authority. In Peter’s case, that brought him imprisonment (Ac 12.1-3) and eventually, tradition says, execution by crucifixion. John, on the other hand, lived a long life and died a natural death—if you can call slaving in the salt mines in your 80s a natural death.

There is indeed a higher authority.

Now, if we are to obey God when our authorities contradict his will, then it’s really important that we know what that will is. If a voice in your head tells you to take a shot at the President, and you think that voice belongs to God, you’re going to be in a pile of trouble with guys in black suits who talk to their wrists, and even worse, it will all have been for nothing, because that voice in your head is not in fact from God.

There’s only one reliable source of God’s words and will, and that is the Scripture. We all need to know what it says.

And further, we need to be sure of our biblical understanding. If the Bible-believing population is divided on whether the Bible actually says this or that, we need to slow down and evaluate what we’ve read. Maybe one side’s wrong and the other is right; but the very division among people who love God and believe their Bibles should call for some extra thought and careful consideration.

Next time: bringing it all together on a Thursday in July.

Photo by Koshu Kunii on Unsplash

On Protest, Part 2: The Landscape

July 17, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: First Things

As broken people—like everybody else—in a broken world, we will face disagreements and conflicts. To ameliorate and mediate these conflicts, God has established authority structures under which we all live and function.

Before I delineate those, I’d like to note that much of modern culture rejects the whole idea of authority structures. Anarchists, such as Antifa, reject all governmental authority. Non-religious people reject church authority structures, of course, and a majority of contemporary Western culture rejects familial authority structures, most obviously the authority of husbands over their wives and the authority of parents over their children—the latter seeming particularly unpopular with many teachers in public education.

Now, such people are of course free to believe whatever they want, but as is the case anytime humans reject the divine order, they run pretty quickly into a workability problem. Whether you’re doing away with government or other authority structures, you’re going to end up with chaos, with everyone doing what’s right in his own eyes. That’s been tried before (Jdg 21.25)—more than once—and it has never turned out well. Feel free to think of examples beyond the two I’ve mentioned; the pattern holds.

Arguments against authority typically simply cite examples of abuses of governmental or ecclesiastical or familial authority, and there are many. But the fact that something is done wrong is no argument that it cannot be done right, or that it is so inherently evil that it shouldn’t be done at all. Is Florence Foster-Jenkins proof that nobody should sing? Given the brokenness of the world and its inhabitants, there will always be abuses. When they occur, we ought to correct them, but we will never construct a system in which such abuses don’t happen.

How about

“Come on, people, now, smile on your brother;
Everybody get together, try to love one another right now”?

I heard Jesse Colin Young sing that live on Boston Common more than fifty years ago. Didn’t work then; doesn’t work now.

So I would suggest that it’s worth our time to recognize the authority structures under which God has placed us and to seek to live orderly, sensible, and realistic lives instead of insisting on the “freedom” of making things up as we go, all the way to utter chaos.

I’ve already identified those authority structures above (contextually, as formal debaters say), but let me list them formally here, in the order in which God created them.

The Home / Family

The first people God created he intended to be a unit, an organism. Specifically, they were to be husband and wife (Ge 2.18, 21-25), and, as the language indicates, they were to have children (Ge 2.24, “one flesh”; cf Ge 9.1, 7). Later Scripture speaks repeatedly of the authority of parents over their children (e.g. Ep 6.1-4).

The State / Government

There is obviously no need for a state until the human population grows beyond a single family, but that apparently came very early in history, given the extended lifespans in that time (Adam, for example, lived to be more than 800 years old [Ge 5.4]). Adam’s son, Cain, established “a city” (Ge 4.17), probably several centuries after creation. We’re not told what sort of government it had, but some organization must have been involved.

As Noah left the ark after the flood, God bestowed on humans the authority of capital punishment (Ge 9.6), which I think can serve as a clear indication of human government.

And if the state can kill you for violating its law against murder, then clearly it has authority and can command obedience.

It’s worth noting that pretty much all government in those days—indeed, all the way through the Medieval period—was autocratic. Of course the ancient Greeks experimented with democracy in Athens and Sparta, but that was short-lived and not influential. The current broad menu of governmental systems is a recent and unusual development. But the authority has always been there.

The Church

This third authority structure is a relative latecomer, having been instituted after the earthly ministry of Christ, at Pentecost (Ac 2.47 is the first biblical mention of the church as existing). It is never said to have authority over nonbelievers (hence the poor record of theocratic systems in the centuries since), but believers are often told to recognize and obey ecclesiastical authorities (e.g.2Th 3.7; He 13.7).

Now.

Since the world and everyone in it is broken, these authority structures are broken as well. There are mistakes and errors in judgment and execution, and often there are abuses.

Now what?

Next time.

Photo by Koshu Kunii on Unsplash

On Protest, Part 1: First Things

July 14, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

We live in a culture of protest, and one that didn’t just recently arrive on the scene. Nearly a century ago Mahatma Gandhi advocated non-violent protest against the British Empire’s claim of sovereignty over Indian affairs. Martin Luther King Jr. borrowed significantly from Gandhi in his leadership of protests against Jim Crow practices during the height of the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s. Pro-life protesters have been active outside abortion clinics for decades. Beginning in 2009, Tea Party activists protested publicly. And more recently various Occupy and Antifa factions have engaged in protests, most famously in Seattle and Portland.

I’ve chosen to name these specific examples for their diversity—not just on the political spectrum, but the degree to which they advocate civil disobedience or violence. There are clearly different ways to protest.

Protest is an effective way, especially with political issues, to get a cause onto the political agenda. It’s even implied in the US Constitution. It’s a common tool for dealing with authorities with whom we disagree.

A context of protest provides a good opportunity for us to evaluate the biblical data on authority and to give some thought to how we can best respond when one of our authorities acts in a way we think is wrong.

So let’s begin, as we always should, by laying out some biblical principles that can help determine our philosophy of protest and then guide our application of that philosophy.

The Glory of God

The Prime Directive is the glory of God. Our thoughts, words, and actions must reflect positively on him; they must attribute weightiness to him, giving others legitimate reason to think well of him—whether they end up doing so or not. We cannot control the decisions others make about their view of God, but we must not give them legitimate reason to think poorly of him.

Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God (1Co 10.31).

Only He is worth all of our love, all of our loyalty, and all of our devotion. God is the only person we can follow blindly—and He doesn’t ask us to; he has left millennia of historical record of his goodness, greatness, and faithfulness.

This is a weighty task, one with eternal consequences. It must not be merely in the back of our minds as we lay out our plan of action.

Thus it’s worth stating here at the outset that the cause for which we protest is always—always—secondary to our primary purpose of glorifying God and carrying out his commission to take his gospel to the ends of the earth.

The Brokenness of Our World

Our world, and everything in it, is broken. In God’s good plan, sin has damaged his creation. It has rendered us broken as people, and it has broken our environment and our circumstances (Ge 3.1-19). I’ll get to some implications of that later in the series.

So we must not be surprised by evil, including injustice; but on the other hand, we must not be apathetic about it either, waving it off as “just the way things are,” with a flippant “if it doesn’t affect me, then what do I care?” As part of bringing glory to God, we are called to battle the world’s evil and bring healing and relief, to the degree that we can, where evil reveals itself.

God Reigns

God is not stymied or frustrated by evil; he is so much bigger than evil that he can use it to accomplish his own purposes (Ge 50.20). God is directing the course of each life for his glory (Ps 37.23). And for now, he has called all of us to walk as broken people in a broken world. Sometimes this means that we will experience evil and injustice (Job 1).

But in the end, his will—his good will—is always accomplished. He directs and sustains us through evil things purposefully, in order to accomplish His goal in us: to conform us to the image of His dear Son (2Co 3.18).

Next time, we’ll look more closely at the systems he uses to accomplish this.

Photo by Koshu Kunii on Unsplash

On Silence During Chaos, Part 3: Panic

May 5, 2025 by Dan Olinger Leave a Comment

Part 1: Personal | Part 2: Political

You didn’t really think we were going to get through the sociopolitical situation in one post, did you?

At the end of the previous post, I noted the almost constant pressure to see the current sociopolitical situation as apocalyptic: if we don’t do something now, everything will be ruined!

A few thoughts about that.

First, one of the basic rules of detecting and preventing fraud is to resist salespeople who are pressuring you to Act Now!, to get this special deal that won’t be available later. This technique happens in sales flyers for grocery stores; it happens at Wal-Mart; it happens at car lots; it happens when people are trying to lure you into a timeshare, or an investment in gold, or some hot stock, or some dark horse at the track.

And it’s bogus. People who listen to those salespeople are going to lose their money, or at least they’re going to get less than they paid for. Fear makes for lousy decisions.

Now, politicians and pundits are salespeople too. And they know, from long experience, that pressure tactics work. As one former advisor to President Obama famously said, “Never let a serious crisis go to waste.” (That was Rahm Emanuel, in 2008.) Sometimes it’s a war; sometimes it’s an economic issue such as inflation or recession. Sometimes it’s an environmental catastrophe, or even just an apparent one, that serves as an opportunity to goose the level of governmental control. But it’s always something.

So Trump is “a danger to democracy.” Biden’s immigration policy—or lack of one—will eventuate in “the last election of our lifetime.” Gotta do something. And the something you gotta do is vote for our guy, or support our policy.

And thus has it ever been. Goldwater was going to bring nuclear death to that little girl picking daisies. Johnson was a warmonger, and Humphrey would bring us back to peace. Then Nixon was the warmonger, and McGovern would bring peace. Then Carter was going to destroy the economy. Then Reagan—oh, boy, did they unload on Reagan. “We begin bombing in five minutes!” Clinton. Bush 43 and the “weapons of mass destruction” in Iraq. Obamacare. Trump the First. Biden and the immigration invasion. And now Trump the Second.

One of the benefits of living for a while is that you realize that the news never changes.

And in a day when everybody has a publishing platform, the simplest thing for individual citizens to do is to cooperate by spreading the story or the meme that confirms your bias, that makes the side you want to be on look right and righteous and rigorous.

And here’s the thing. Most of the people who are doing this have no idea what they’re talking about. They think they’re fighting the good fight, but they can’t possibly be sure, at least not in an informed way. And some of them even post—after having done their “research,” which consists of reading an outlet that they have chosen to trust specifically because it tells them what they have already decided to believe—that their friends should “educate themselves.”

So given the likelihood that any given political crisis is being overhyped—perhaps by both sides—I would conclude that waiting for a bit and seeing how things go is the better part of wisdom. Most of the predicted catastrophes never happen.

I have an acquaintance, a Facebook friend, who’s professionally in a position to interact with influential people, including some people whose names you would likely recognize if you follow the news. He’s no fan of Trump. And the other day he posted that the likelihood is that things are going to turn out all right.

But what if it’s a real crisis? What if we really do need to act immediately? In the previous post I noted the importance of being informed, and cool-headed, in a crisis. That means that even if the current situation is in fact a crisis, and not just a manufactured one, those who are acting out of fear or ignorance—that’s most of them—are unlikely to be of any real help, and in fact are likely to do harm.

I don’t want to be one of those people.

If I’m not an expert on tariffs or immigration or law enforcement or military readiness—as, apparently, everyone else on Facebook is—then I’m going to get out of the way and let the people who know what they’re doing take care of the situation. I’m not going to add to the chaos on-scene by shouting uninformed opinions at the people who are actually trying to accomplish something.

Now, if they need help with Koine Greek, or biblical exegesis, or Christian theology, or online teaching, or experiential learning, or poaching an egg, or roasting a Thanksgiving turkey, I’ll be glad to help. But in the meantime I’ll stay in my corner.

Next time: about that Christian theology …

Part 4: Peace 1 | Part 5: Peace 2

Photo by Jonathan Harrison on Unsplash

On Silence During Chaos, Part 2: Political

May 1, 2025 by Dan Olinger 1 Comment

Part 1: Personal

Another factor in my political reticence is the current sociopolitical situation.

I’ll start with the fact that we have the biggest and most powerful government in the history of the world. That’s a lot of power. And when there’s that much power, a lot of people are going to want a piece of that action. And typically, those people are not potential statesmen; they’re in it for themselves, and they’ll do whatever is necessary to get it.

Some of them go the route of political office. They run for something achievable—say, city council—and they manage their image carefully, working up through the ranks until they get the Big Prize: US Senate. (I’d suggest that that’s usually more desirable than the Presidency, because it’s more likely to be achievable, and because it has lower visibility; once you’re the President, everybody’s after your job—even the people who say they’re on your side. The Senate consists of 100 people who think they ought to be President instead of the current guy.)

Some go the route of journalism. They go to journalism school (which, by the way, no longer teaches accuracy in reporting; it teaches advocacy, taking a side and “reporting” in such a way that you influence the public to your position—which is a virtue, because of course you’re right), then work their way up from the local newspaper (if it even exists anymore) or TV newsroom to one in a larger city and then, if possible, to the network. Again, you’re not likely to get the anchor chair—though a home-town girl from Wade Hampton High in Greenville did a few years ago—but you can be the White House correspondent, or national security correspondent, or some other reporter who’s likely to make the national newscast multiple times per week.

Some go the route of influencers—maybe because they’re rich (we’ve seen a lot of that lately) or because they have expertise in foreign affairs or monetary policy or political campaigns, and they can thereby get the President’s ear.

The situation is complicated by the fact that in a complex political or policy environment, truth is damaged not only by what the outlet says; it’s damaged too, sometimes even more, by what it doesn’t say. If a network refuses to carry a story because they think it would help the “other side,” they’re leaving the public with a skewed view of reality. I’ve seen the New York Times do that, and I’ve seen Fox News do it; and for those for whom Fox News is too far left, I’ve seen the fervently pro-MAGA outlets do it as well.

But all of this is about the power. Big government attracts the power-hungry. Those who have the power will do anything to keep it, and those who don’t will do anything to get it.

In that environment, what will the news, and the news releases, be like? They’ll be telling one side of every story, the side most likely to get the government office, or the corporation, or the journalist, more power. And even those who speak most ostentatiously about putting out “no spin” are spinning. That’s a power grab too.

Now. In that environment, what’s a consumer to do?

Well, the standard advice is to hear both sides. But if both sides are skewing, who’s to say that Side 1 + Side 2 = The Truth? I’m reminded of the engineer who, upon hearing a friend say that she used a cheap tire pressure gauge but took the average of three readings, said, “Why do you think the average of three unreliable readings will be more reliable?”

In practice, then, our short-term sense of the situation is simply not going to be reliable; it’s going to take some time for the truth to come out.

To use a current example, President Trump says he’s going to use tariffs to negotiate deals with other countries, likely eventuating in what is effectively free trade. His opponents say it won’t work, and that in any case he’s inflating the number of countries who want to negotiate. Now, the only way to know who’s right is to wait and see whether his claim is verified.

But that raises another problem.

There’s no time for that!

This will be the end of the world!

We need to act now!

We’ll talk about that next time.

Part 3: Panic | Part 4: Peace 1 | Part 5: Peace 2

Photo by Jonathan Harrison on Unsplash