But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God's people… (1 Peter 2.9-10)

You’ve probably seen or heard the term, Christian nationalism, and with increasing frequency.  What is it?  Is it an acceptable ideology before God?  Most of the time, when Christian nationalism is brought up in the public square, it’s for the purpose of demonizing the ideology and its adherents, and there are legitimate concerns.  But they’re concerning  because of God’s instructions, not some public figure’s opinion. 

Broadly speaking, nationalism is the notion that the leaders of each nation-state should put that nation’s own interests first in its governance.  This is distinguished from globalism, the idea that rulers’ responsibility is to the whole world, even at the expense of their own citizens.  How, then, does “Christian” modify “nationalism”?  The idea espoused by Christian nationalists in the United States is that this was founded as an explicitly Christian nation, should remain so, and that Christianity should be politically privileged over other religions.  Inasmuch as Christianity is the true religion and every person on earth ought to hear and obey the gospel, that doesn’t sound so bad; but as noted above, there are problems to consider.

Some blur the line between Christ and the state, effectively making an idol out of the latter.  This appears in a variety of ways, but is most easily observed in the tendency to make a political leader into an imitation of the Messiah, with the reasoning that, just as soon as so-and-so gets all the power, all of our problems will be solved.  But Jesus said, “the poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me” (Jn 12.8).  God’s kingdom is heavenly, and so is his salvation.  This is both foolishness and idolatry.

Another problem occurs when Christians treat their faith as nothing but a justification for their political beliefs.  Our faith should determine our position on political issues, of course, but if you’ve never altered your stance on a political question based on what the Bible says, and instead have only used it to find justifications for your prior convictions, you’re doing it backward!

Then there’s the problem of reading God’s promises to Israel, and determining that modern America has replaced Israel as God’s chosen people, as if the passage in 1 Peter 2, quoted above, were aimed directly at America.  This is absurd.  It’s the same nonsense preached by the Black Hebrew Israelites (who claim they’re the true descendants of Abraham), and by the somehow even more ridiculous White British Israelites (who don’t call themselves that, but they’re definitely out there—in more ways than one!).  God’s people are those who are faithful—“Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham” (Ga 3.7).

But despite these legitimate concerns, that’s not what those in politics and the media have in mind, when deriding Christian nationalism.  They’re primarily concerned with things like getting rid of Christian words and symbols from the public sphere, and doing away with Christian morality in laws.  In the case of religious art or teaching in public, what’s the alternative?  Man is inherently religious.  Remove religious symbols from public, and they will soon be replaced by others, perhaps of a false religion, or even more likely, by the symbols and teaching of the secular establishment, which is its own religion.  What about the influence of Christian morality in the law?  The alternative here is simply injustice.  You can’t be a Christian, and believe that anyone other than God should be the final word on justice and morality.

Note that the term, Christian nationalist, deliberately evokes the similar-sounding but wildly different white nationalist.  It’s possible to find avowed white supremacists who speak in support of Christian nationalism, but true Christianity demands we recognize the God-given worth of every person, regardless of race.  Christ’s kingdom has, from the very beginning, cared not a whit about skin color or national origin—the first Christians came from a group of

Parthians and Medes and Elamites and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabians… (Acts 2.9-11)

Christian nationalism is mostly invoked to suggest that you’re a bigot, if you profess to be a Christian and believe that Christians have a duty to “make disciples of all nations” (Mt 28.19).  This is done in order to pressure Christians to stop acting on their faith in public—in effect, to stop being Christians.  Don’t take the bait.

For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ…(Philippians 3.18-20)

You’ll find the people of whom Paul warns, at both of the extreme ends of this argument—on one side, using Christ’s kingdom as a club to enforce their earthly will, and on the other side, the same thing, dressed up differently.  But while we’re bound to be born into some kind of political structure and citizenship, our real citizenship, the one that matters, is in heaven.  Live accordingly.

Jeremy Nettles

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. (Matthew 5.17)

Statements like this from Jesus have led some Christians to conclude that the Law of Moses is still in effect for God’s people today.  Never mind that Paul tells us Jesus brought Jew and Gentile together “by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances” (Ep 2.15), or that “the law was our guardian until Christ came” (Ga 3.24).  Never mind that the Jews’ covenant with God ended when one party to the contract—Jesus—died.  Never mind even that God predicted, while the first covenant still stood,

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah…” (Jeremiah 31.31)

Despite these assurances, one of the quibbles that still comes up is the assertion that the Jews’ dietary code applies to Christians.

Jesus would seem to have settled this argument, when he spoke to his confused disciples about onerous requirements enforced by the Pharisees and scribes.

“Do you not see that whatever goes into a person from outside cannot defile him, since it enters not his heart but his stomach, and is expelled?” (Thus he declared all foods clean.) (Mark 7.18-19)

However, as straightforward as this sounds, objections still arise.  Where the ESV says, “Thus he declared all foods clean,” the Greek text is more concise; saying, “καθαρίζων πάντα τὰ βρώματα” (katharizōn panta ta brōmata, “purifying all foods”).  But there’s a minuscule difference among the manuscripts.  It hinges on whether the final vowel of the word behind our English “purifying” is a long ō, or a short ŏ.  This tiny difference in sound and appearance is more important than it seems.  If it’s ō, then Mark is adding his own parenthesis, telling us that, by the way, this teaching in effect means all foods are clean.  If it’s ŏ, then Jesus is saying the process of digestion and excretion means all foods end up as the same thing, and in the same place.  This is the path followed by the King James Version and its derivatives, translating the phrase, “purging all meats” (KJV).  If that’s the case, there’s some little room for debate.

Proponents of the dietary code for Christians haste to point out God’s instruction to Noah,

“Take with you seven pairs of all clean animals, the male and his mate, and a pair of the animals that are not clean, the male and his mate…” (Genesis 7.2)

This was eons before the Law of Moses, and yet a distinction between clean and unclean animals is already assumed.  But, while this is related to the dietary code in Leviticus 11, it’s not the whole story—before the flood, God hadn’t given man license to eat meat yet, at all (cf. Ge 1.29-30, 9.3)!

Some Christians make the huge mistake of ignoring the Old Testament.  Others make the equally huge mistake of relying too heavily on it, and misunderstanding God’s purpose for preserving it as a gift to us.  In these latter cases, there’s a continual push to mirror some of God’s commandments to the ancient Israelites.  However, that’s not what Christ planned or instructed.  In one vision, he set Peter straight on two points.

…he fell into a trance and saw the heavens opened and something like a great sheet descending, being let down by its four corners upon the earth. In it were all kinds of animals and reptiles and birds of the air. And there came a voice to him: “Rise, Peter; kill and eat.” But Peter said, “By no means, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.” And the voice came to him again a second time, “What God has made clean, do not call common.” (Acts 10.10-15)

The more important point is that the gospel is for Gentiles, too.  But the vision makes no sense, unless the animals are made clean! Given the opportunity to bind the dietary code on new Gentile converts a few years later, the apostles and elders at Jerusalem instead told them,

“For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay on you no greater burden than these requirements: that you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols, and from blood, and from what has been strangled, and from sexual immorality. If you keep yourselves from these, you will do well.” (Acts 15.28-29)

This is about as conclusive as it can be.  The dietary code was one of the defining, visible distinctions between Jews and Gentiles, and if God intended for it to be carried over into the new covenant through Christ, this was the time to make that clear.  But he said nothing of the kind.  Later, when Paul addresses this very point, he says things like,

“One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables” (Ro 14.2).  Or, again, “Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink” (Co 2.16).  He even warns that some Christians will distort the teaching of Christ, including those who

require abstinence from foods that God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth. For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God and prayer. (1 Timothy 4.3-5)

Of course, anyone who wishes to abide by dietary restrictions is free to do so.  But don’t bind them on others; don’t start thinking it makes you better; don’t put your trust in your own works.  If you’re a Christian, Christ has sanctified you.  You didn’t do it by abstaining from food or drink.  Cleansing comes from God, through the purifying and atoning sacrifice of his Son.  Put your trust in him.

Jeremy Nettles

The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later. So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden. (1 Timothy 5.24-25)

A persistent gripe among atheists and others hostile toward Christ and the Bible, is that the ostensibly perfect and unchangeable Word of God is so full of contradictions.  Many have published lists of these supposed contradictions, and while a few are genuinely difficult to explain, the great majority of examples cited on most lists serve only to demonstrate that the skeptic has no more than a passing familiarity with the text he so despises.  The context—textual, narrative, historical, and theological—in almost all cases clears up the confusion and leaves us in awe of the author’s wisdom and obvious authority.  Nevertheless, as we do our best to wrap our feeble minds around the nature of the immortal, invisible, eternal, all-knowing sovereign of creation, it’s not surprising that our ability to comprehend comes up short from time to time.  Often, he tells us through his Scriptures things that are not exactly in conflict with each other, but that stand in tension with each other, setting an outer limit on the silly extremes to which we would otherwise try to take God’s commandments and observations.

An example of this can be seen in Jesus’ well-known Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus spends considerable effort illustrating that the outer appearance does not always match the inner man, beginning with the instruction,

“Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 6.1)

Yet, he says before the sermon is over,

“You will recognize them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? So, every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit.” (Matthew 7.16-18)

There is certainly no contradiction here.  The most straightforward conclusion to be drawn from Jesus’ combination of warning against putting on a show of righteousness, and his prediction that the unrighteous will reveal themselves, is simply that putting on a show doesn’t work—people see through it.  This is, of course, true; but it’s not the whole story.

Jesus gives examples—giving to the needy, praying, and fasting.  These are all good things to do.  They are the fruit.  But doesn’t that mean those who do them are healthy trees?  Similarly, Jesus’ instruction is to keep your giving a secret, pray in private, and do your best to conceal your fasting.  But to an outside observer, the person who keeps Jesus’ instructions about this may appear to be bearing no fruit at all, and what is he left to conclude?  Sure, he’s not the judge who matters, and Jesus says three times over, “your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Mt 6.4, 6, 18).  But how are we to know a tree is healthy, when the tree keeps concealing its fruit from us?

This isn’t all that challenging to figure out.  It’s not that Jesus is mistaken, nor has he changed his mind; it’s just that there’s some tension between the instruction and the prediction.  When we observe a single good work from an individual, we know it would be foolish to pass a sweeping judgment based upon one action, that this is a righteous person.  Even if we didn’t know better, Jesus tells us to beware of judging and pay careful attention to the standard we use, in the very same sermon (Mt 7.1-5).  Just as we wouldn’t pick a single apple and judge the tree based on a glance at that one specimen, we know to look at the whole picture before declaring a tree good or bad.  Even when we notice someone giving to the needy, or praying in public, or fasting out of devotion to God, if we pay attention we’ll easily see whether he’s trying to make a spectacle  of himself, or just doing a good deed without drawing attention or accolades.  If he’s putting on a show, he won’t fool most people.  They’ll generally notice the defect in the fruit, and rightly conclude that this is not a good tree.

On the other hand, if you’re “always abounding in the work of the Lord” (1Co 15.58), you’ll be noticed no matter how hard you try to hide your good works.  Some of that attention will be unwelcome and uncomfortable.  Jesus tells us—again, in the very same sermon—“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 5.10).  Even the severest persecution and most damning lies will not change God’s mind about you, and his chosen people will generally not be fooled, either.

Paul covered both sides of sin and righteousness in the short quote at the top of this article.  “The sins of some people are conspicuous, going before them to judgment, but the sins of others appear later” (1Ti 5.24).  They may hide them for a while, but try as they might, their sins most certainly will become apparent.  “So also good works are conspicuous, and even those that are not cannot remain hidden” (v25).  Try to hide them.  It’s an incredibly effective way to make sure you’re doing them out of devotion to God, and not a desire to exalt yourself.  But don’t be surprised when you’re found out.  An abundance of good works will not escape notice.

…if you pour yourself out for the hungry

        and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,

then shall your light rise in the darkness

        and your gloom be as the noonday. (Isaiah 58.9)

Jeremy Nettles

The first chapter of the Old Testament book of Job is one of the most gut-wrenching passages in the Bible, as it relates, in vivid detail, how the title character lost everything in one fell swoop.  It’s not a story of a rough few months, or even just an extraordinarily bad day, but rather the complete unraveling of Job’s entire life in just a few moments.

…and there came a messenger to Job and said, “The oxen were plowing and the donkeys feeding beside them, and the Sabeans fell upon them and took them and struck down the servants with the edge of the sword, and I alone have escaped to tell you.” While he was yet speaking, there came another and said, “The fire of God fell from heaven and burned up the sheep and the servants and consumed them, and I alone have escaped to tell you.” While he was yet speaking, there came another and said, “The Chaldeans formed three groups and made a raid on the camels and took them and struck down the servants with the edge of the sword, and I alone have escaped to tell you.” While he was yet speaking, there came another and said, “Your sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in their oldest brother's house, and behold, a great wind came across the wilderness and struck the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young people, and they are dead, and I alone have escaped to tell you.” (Job 1.14-19)

Sometimes struggles, trials, and misfortunes seem to pile up on us today, too.  While it’s good to consider Job’s situation in order to keep our own troubles in perspective, the knowledge that someone suffered worse, on the other side of the world and several thousand years ago, doesn’t actually alleviate our sufferings.  But there are plenty of New Testament reminders that provide clear direction.  One tells us to rejoice:

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (James 1.2-4)

In another, Paul welcomes persecution  because it brings him closer to Jesus—he’s particularly interested to “share his sufferings” (Php 3.10).  In a different letter, he encourages afflicted Christians by pointing out, “as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too” (2Co 1.5).  Along similar lines, Peter instructs Christians to endure undeserved harsh treatment, and reminds us not to behave in such a way that we come to deserve it!

For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly. For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure? But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. (1 Peter 2.19-20)

He also gives us a reward to keep in mind, later in the same letter, instructing us, “rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed” (1Pe 2.13).

So, we have ample encouragement to endure suffering with a good attitude and righteous behavior, as well as a promised reward to follow our toil.  But it’s a tall order!  Often we feel overwhelmed by our troubles, especially when they multiply as Job’s did, and then we give in to despair, surmising that there’s no point trying to handle it all graciously, since we’re certain to fail.  When that happens, it’s good to consider another well-known verse that specifically addresses temptation, but applies to trials in general.  “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability” (1Co 10.13).  The next part of the verse talks about the “way of escape” God always provides, but even before we get to that, pause to contemplate, for a moment, that God knows what you can handle, and will never allow you to face trials beyond your ability to navigate successfully.  This is the same thing, after all, that he did with Job.  God himself did not inflict all Job’s misery on him, but he did, in fact, call Job’s righteousness to Satan’s attention, inviting him to do his worst.

And the Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job, that there is none like him on the earth, a blameless and upright man, who fears God and turns away from evil?” (Job 1.8)

Satan is successfully baited, and accuses both Job and God of misrepresenting the bond of faith between them.  God allows Satan to attack Job—Satan requires permission from God to tempt you!—but he also imposes a limit: “Behold, all that he has is in your hand. Only against him do not stretch out your hand” (Jb 1.12).  God is confident Job can handle so much, and prohibits Satan from exceeding that level.  He refuses to let Satan go beyond your ability, too.  That doesn’t mean that passing the test will be easy, or pleasant, or that it will look the way you expect.  It doesn’t mean you won’t face difficult trials.  It doesn’t mean they won’t pile up in devastating ways.  It doesn’t mean your friends will stick by you, or that enemies won’t accuse you.  It certainly doesn’t mean that in the end, you’ll get everything back twice over in this life, as Job did.  But you can face your trials in a way that pleases God, refusing to give in and curse God; and the reward that awaits you beyond death will be far greater than you can even imagine. 

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12.1-2)

Jeremy Nettles

Then Boaz said to his young man who was in charge of the reapers, “Whose young woman is this?” And the servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, “She is the young Moabite woman, who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. She said, ‘Please let me glean and gather among the sheaves after the reapers.’ So she came, and she has continued from early morning until now, except for a short rest.” (Ruth 2.5-7)

Sometimes it’s assumed that Ruth is hiring out her labor to Boaz’s crew.  But that’s not the case.  Rather, she has asked to glean, and that is something different entirely.  She’s not getting paid for this work, because she’s not performing a valued service to the owner of the field.  No, whatever she gathers, she’s allowed to take home and use for herself.  Why is Boaz so cheerful about the prospect of this newly-arrived Gentile woman making off with grain that he laboriously cultivated?  Because he respects the Law of Moses.

When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field right up to its edge, neither shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest. And you shall not strip your vineyard bare, neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard. You shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the Lord your God. (Leviticus 19.9-10)

God included several other, similar notes at various points in his Law; for example, one in Deuteronomy specifies that these privileges belong to “the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow,” a recurring theme throughout that book (24.19).  Ruth fits into each category—she is poor; she’s a Gentile just arrived from her former home in Moab; she’s bereft of her father-in-law, whose family she had joined by marriage, and to top it all off, her own husband has also died, making her a widow, too.  She and her mother-in-law Naomi have only each other; they are alone and destitute.  God’s Law allowed them to gather enough grain to feed themselves, but not enough to exploit it for profit.  God demonstrated his foresight and love through these commandments, as well as his desire to shape his people’s habits and mold their character, so that they would learn to have a generous heart like he has.  Indeed, the list of related laws In Leviticus 19, which began with the right of the poor to glean, is capped off with the oft-quoted, “you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Le 19.18b).

Compare this to the modern approach—the welfare state.  It’s obvious that there are still people in need, and whether they brought their troubles on themselves or not, it’s good to make sure they aren’t simply ignored—that their suffering is alleviated and their basic needs are met.  But the similarities end there.  In the system God designed for Israel, family bore the responsibility before anyone else.  Jesus tore into the Pharisees for eroding this expectation:

“But you say, ‘If a man tells his father or his mother, “Whatever you would have gained from me is Corban”’ (that is, given to God)—then you no longer permit him to do anything for his father or mother, thus making void the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down…” (Mark 7.11-13)

In cases where there is no family member available to help, there’s no reason for the unfortunate soul to starve; he’s allowed to simply take his food from the farms that spread across the land.  The farmer is in no way required to gather grain, thresh, mill, leaven, and bake it, then deliver a quota of freshly-baked bread to the poor.  The poor  have to work for it themselves, albeit far less than the farmer himself already has.  Rather than an entitlement to food, it’s a right to gather, requiring deliberate exercise—both literally and metaphorically!

Similarly, the farmer’s responsibility is rather small—simply to allow the poor to feed themselves on the standing grain in his field.  But there’s no standard in the law for how close to the edge they’re allowed to reap, or how many grapes to leave on the vine for the poor—leaving it to each individual’s own judgment, forcing him to decide how much he will leave.  Surely many took this as an excuse to be stingy; but how many others developed an attitude more like that of Boaz? He told his employees,

“Let her glean even among the sheaves, and do not reproach her. And also pull out some from the bundles for her and leave it for her to glean, and do not rebuke her.” (Ruth 2.15b-16)

This goes above and beyond the Law, to be clear.  But it’s exactly the sort of outcome God was aiming for, in giving them such a Law, with such room for their own discretion.  It left room for Boaz to be impressed with Ruth’s work ethic.  It left room for Ruth to be incredibly grateful to the individual whose food she was being allowed to take and eat.  It left room for them to love each other, and from that love, unending blessings flowed.

In contrast, our centrally-planned, wasteful, and routinely abused system of entitlements has encouraged the poor to hate the rich, who pay the taxes that feed them, but rarely stoop to recognize their individual humanity.  It has encouraged the rich to despise the poor, who show them no gratitude and only seem to require more and more as time goes on.  It’s more complex than just that, of course, but in basic terms, while no system will be the Paradise for which we all yearn, it’s clear that no one is happy with man’s attempts to solve the problem of the poor.  But as Jesus told his disciples, “you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them” (Mk 14.7).  He still encourages us to help them.  His system is better.  It’s one that starts, not in the halls of power, but in the heart.

Jeremy Nettles