The summer between my 7th and 8th grade year, my hometown area was devastated by a massive storm system that pounded us with hail, wind, tornadoes, and flooding. It spawned 18 tornadoes and caused massive flash flooding that turned roads into lakes and literally left cars floating down the highways. Straight-line winds exceeded hurricane force causing severe structural damage across the area. The destruction was so extensive that a Presidential Disaster Declaration was declared.
A 100-year-old Cottonwood tree was ripped from its roots and sliced my neighbors’ house in half. After the storm passed, I remember scrambling up the tree trunk, dropping into the kitchen, and helping my friend gather what she could from her bedroom. Hoisting garbage bags up to her brother and then scrambling back down the tree. It was the only way in and out of the house.
We were without power and running water for a long time. The tree I used to climb and spend hours reading in was uprooted and thrown across our road. The landscape of our neighborhood was forever changed.
But you know what I was upset about the most?
That I couldn’t obsessively listen to the mmm-boppin’ goodness of my new Hanson CD on my boom box.
*
Jesus is one of the most confounding people to ever walk this planet. He never acted or responded in an expected manner. Given two options, he’d create a third way.
When the political and religious leaders of His day tried to force Him to choose A or B, he’d choose C. And every time He did, He transformed people’s minds and hearts.
His Third Way was revolutionary. Subversive. Radical.
It was reckless, powerful, redemptive.
It was Love.
*
After teaching to large crowds along the shore—pressing in so enthusiastically that He had to preach from a boat—Jesus was tired. After requesting they cross the lake, He promptly fell asleep.
But a huge storm whipped up from nowhere; water poured into their boat. Even the fishermen, the experienced sailors, among the twelve were scared the boat was going to sink. So the bewildered disciples panicked and woke Jesus up. They couldn’t believe He didn’t care about the storm or their fate. But with just a few words from Jesus, the storm ceased.
After speaking to the wind the waves, Jesus turned and faced His twelve closest friends—men who had gone through months and years of crazy adventures with him. “Why are you afraid?” he gently asks them. “Do you still have no faith and confidence in Me?”
And these men, who had seen Jesus heal the lame and cast out demons, actually became more afraid. They thought they knew Jesus. Trusted that He’d save them from the storm in a way that made sense.
But then Jesus goes and creates a third way. He chooses C.
And the power of it rocked their boat more than the storm ever could.
*
I hear a lot of talk these days about what Jesus would or wouldn’t do. What political party he would or wouldn’t support. What issues or countries or people groups he would or wouldn’t care about.
And with each agenda He’s attached to comes an overwhelming message of shame. Of fear-mongering. Of resentment.
And I’m finding that I am not conservative enough for my conservative friends. I am not liberal enough for my liberal friends. I am not moderate enough for my moderate friends.
I’m not Christian enough; I’m too Christian.
Everywhere I look, people—even those I know and love—are drawing lines in the sand. They’re putting on their armor and sharpening their weapons. They’re choosing sides. Staking out their battleground.
Because honestly, our world is burning and we are scared and looking for a savior we can see and defend and follow.
And that is how we have turned politics into a religion. We bow to a power we desperately hope will help the world make sense again. And we sacrifice our souls and each other’s humanity on its altar.
In the hope of being right, in the name of our flesh-and-blood savior, we choose hate over love. We dismiss and dehumanize those who dare to disagree. We yell and shout and steal and kill and destroy. All for the cause of the Greater Good. Of Justice.
Because God is on our side.
And with a sword pointed at your throat, you’re given a choice: You’re with us or you’re against us. Choose A or B.
Honestly, I choose C.
*
There is a storm raging around us.
And like the disciples in the boat, we see the wind and the waves and the impending doom washing over us. We are scared and frantic.
Like the disciples, we have fixed our eyes on what is seen. On what is temporary.
But this storm, it’s not the pandemic. It’s not the social justice wars. It’s not racism or socialism or communism or particular political parties and candidates. It’s not the riots or rioters. It’s not abortion or poverty or mass shootings or slavery or even sex-trafficking.
“Your hand-to-hand combat is not with human beings, but with the highest principalities and authorities operating in rebellion under the heavenly realms. For they are a powerful class of demon-gods and evil spirits that hold this dark world in bondage.” (Eph. 6:16, TPT)
The truth is, we are at war—but not with each other. Those things mentioned above? They are physical manifestations of a kingdom ruled by darkness. A kingdom that breeds anger and resentment and shame and fear. A kingdom that hates Life.
The enemy of our souls doesn’t respect party lines or national borders or relationship boundaries. Like a hurricane, he ravages anything in his path. And while we spew blame and bitterness and bickering amongst ourselves, he is destroying countries, cities, and families.
And the devastation may take years—maybe generations—to repair.
Sometimes the level of devastation and pain we see around us can be too much to take in. And so we focus on something smaller. We funnel all of our overwhelm and anger and confusion and hurt into a righteous fury over things that have no eternal significance.
Hearts and souls are burning and in bondage, and we’re throwing a tantrum because we can’t to listen to our Hanson CD.
*
When the Israelites were faced with Babylonian exile, God showed them how to avoid it.
“Stand at the crossroads and look;
ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
and you will find rest for your souls.
But you said, ‘We will not walk in it.’”
(Jeremiah 6:16)
At this point in their history, the Israelites were immersed in pagan culture—this “set apart” people were undistinguishable from the people around them. It’s only when King Nebuchadnezzar is at the gate to their city that they finally turn to God. They want Him to save them, but they don’t want to change. They are at the crossroads.
And instead of pointing them down one of the paths they want, He creates a third way for them.
And they refuse to acknowledge it.
*
When we fight for a set of values dictated by a political party, a religious denomination, or national creed rather than by the heart of God, we are aligning with darkness.
Because God is Light—in Him there is no darkness. Can there be godly values in each of those things? Absolutely. But they are not God. To esteem anything more than God is idolatry. And idolatry is part of the dark heart of Satan’s kingdom.
When we care more about who is in power—and being on the “correct” side—than with the hearts and souls of those around us, we become unwitting soldiers in an army of darkness.
Should we care about our leaders? Yes—but not at the cost of crucifying others, of shaming them and stealing their humanity and dignity.
We are in a fierce storm that only promises to get worse. And there is more at stake than we are willing to see. We’re looking for a lifeline, and everyone around us is choosing A or B.
And honestly, we are trying to force God to do the same.
We want Him to calm this storm in a way that makes sense to us. We are at the crossroads, and we desperately want Him to choose the way we think is right.
But He’s pointing us down the Third Way.
And so we confess. We repent of our pride and shaming and blaming and dehumanizing. Instead of slandering and slamming, we pray earnestly for our flesh-and-blood enemies.
We get down on our knees and storm the strongholds of darkness instead of social media.
We fix our eyes on what is unseen–for it it eternal, and we speak words of Peace to the menacing wind and waves.
We transform our families, our cities, our nations—not through laws and political parties, but through transformed and redeemed hearts.
We finally take off our grave clothes and let our Lights shine before men.
Suddenly the Good News becomes our rally cry. And we can freely offer Love and Redemption and Hope instead of peddling Jesus as a mascot.
*
Beloved, let us love one another. For Love is of God, and anyone who loves is born of God and knows God. There is no fear in Love; but perfect Love casts out fear. If someone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from Him, that the one who loves God should love his brother also. (1 John 4:7, 18, 20-21)
The kingdom of darkness has its marching orders: to steal, kill, and destroy.
And we who claim to walk in the Light have ours: Love the your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. Love your neighbor as yourself.
This is the way of Love. The way of Light.
It’s revolutionary. Subversive. Radical.
It’s reckless and powerful and Redemptive.
It’s the Third Way.
***
Powerful, Carra. Thank you for this wonderful perspective. You make me wish, sometimes, that I had studied writing rather than music, as you can bring us so much power and light and rightness through your words.