Month: October 2025

An interesting question came up in this week’s scripture study class: Is British secularism—and the decline in church attendance—due to the social welfare system? Are people, as the question put it, worshiping at the altar of government?

It’s a question that could just as easily be asked of Americans. So I looked into the matter, reviewing the latest findings from the British Social Attitudes Survey and its extensive report on religious belief.

Why Religious Identity Has Declined

The continuing decline in religious identity that began in the 1960s seems to stem from two primary factors. First, a widespread belief that religion has contributed more to conflict and violence than to peace. Second, a conviction that science and technology are more reliable sources of a good life than religion. In fact, public trust in religion now ranks very low—just above trust in Parliament, which is saying something.

Changing Views on Sex, Gender, and Equality

Another powerful influence has been the dramatic shift in public attitudes about sex and gender roles. Religion is often seen as condemning homosexuality, while the wider public increasingly regards it as simply another way of being human. Moral and ethical worth are no longer judged by one’s sexuality but by one’s integrity and trustworthiness.

Similarly, greater acceptance of couples living together outside marriage has reduced the perceived need for the church’s rituals. And while many faith communities still struggle with questions of women’s leadership, the larger society has moved comfortably toward full equality.

From Social Obligation to Personal Choice

Religious identity and political affiliation are no longer closely linked in Britain. A few generations ago, denominational membership and church attendance were social obligations, and social class often dictated which church one was expected to attend. Religious faith itself was not necessarily required—it was the appearance that mattered.

The same was once true in the United States. During the 1950s and ’60s, social norms assumed one was Protestant, Catholic, or Jewish. No one asked if you went to church—only which church you went to. Religion was a social expectation, not always a matter of deep conviction.

What was preached on Sunday too seldom challenged the morality of business, politics, or private practice. The Rev. Norman Vincent Peale’s 1952 book The Power of Positive Thinking made self-help, lightly decorated with religion, a popular alternative to Christian discipline and theological depth. Evangelists like Billy Graham became wildly popular because they offered an emotionally satisfying religious “snack” to fill the hunger left unaddressed by local churches. But revival enthusiasm seldom translated into enduring faith passed on from generation to generation. It did, however, open the door to the kind of Christian nationalism we struggle with today.

If Preachers Have Nothing to Say…

My gut-level response is this: if preachers have nothing important to say—and there is no social penalty for not going to church—why go?

I do not believe any nation’s social welfare system undermines religious faith. The church is not, nor has it ever been, the community’s provider of food, housing, clothing, or jobs. At the same time, essential to the Christian way of life is abundant generosity in service to the poor and marginalized. The church seeks to model that generosity for others while advocating for public policies that devote public resources to mitigating the causes of poverty and promoting public health through healthcare available to all regardless of means.

If British churches are declining, the same critique applies to many in the United States. The gospel is still preached, but often buried beneath two powerful forces: first, the widespread belief that one can live a decent, comfortable life without religion—not in wealth, but in the expectation that daily life will be reasonably secure and predictable; and second, the rise of mass-marketed religion—slick, entertaining, and emotionally appealing—what I would call religious candy: sweet but lacking nourishment.

What the Church Must Boldly Proclaim

The church does, in fact, have something vital to say—and it must say it boldly. The heart of the Christian message remains this: God is not one thing among many in the universe, but the very source and sustainer of all that is. Through God’s self-revelation, God has shown us how to live with one another in harmony, peace, and justice. God has declared that certain forms of social and economic life are unjust and unacceptable, and God has entered human life through Jesus Christ to teach and demonstrate the way that leads to true life in the fullness of all that we have been created to be.

That fullness is realized only in part now, but will be experienced in full in life beyond the grave. Resurrection life is not a reward but a promise. It is freely given to all who will receive it, yet everyone is free to reject it and pursue their own course.

Skeptics may argue that we have our beliefs and they have theirs, and ask who we are to say ours is the better way. We have no right to say ours is the better way—but God does. Ours is not a path of our own invention; it is the way revealed through the holy prophets, the incarnation of Christ Jesus, and the power of his resurrection—each of which exists in verifiable, recorded time.

Far more important, God has shown us in Christ that no power on earth or in heaven—not even death itself—is greater than divine love. To trust one’s life to anything else—science, technology, or government programs—is to trust in the fragile illusions of human invention. Reason and progress may improve our material existence, but they cannot replace the reality of God or the depth of God’s love for creation.

If Christians do not boldly proclaim the way of the cross as the way of life and peace, the church will indeed continue to fade—not because of government, but because we have failed to speak the truth that gives life.

“Merit” and “meritocracy” are words I hear bandied about in the news and elsewhere—sometimes praised, sometimes condemned, depending on who’s using them. One would think that merit applies simply to the proven skills and aptitude a person has for the task at hand.

I remember earning merit badges as a kid—proving I could kindle a fire, set up a tent, or pass a swimming test. In the adult world, a soldier or sailor who displays the knowledge and ability needed for a higher rank can earn promotion based on merit. We like to think the same holds true in schools and workplaces of every kind. Most organizations aspire to reward people on the basis of merit.

A meritocracy, then, would seem to be a community or society in which knowledge, skill, and aptitude determine how one is evaluated for positions and promotions, rather than social status, wealth, family, connections, or race.

As virtuous as that may sound, it can easily be corrupted when individual performance—exclusive of the team’s performance—is the only measure of worth. When that happens, individuals pursue their own advancement at the expense of those around them. It becomes a kind of cutthroat, win-or-lose competition in which the success of the whole unit no longer matters. That kind of meritocracy undermines the well-being of the community—and that is especially dangerous when the “unit” is the nation itself.

There is an extreme form of American individualism that exalts self-reliance above all else and treats any interdependence as weakness. As heroic as its adherents try to make it appear, that ideal collapses the moment tragedy or crisis strikes. When that happens, some demand as much help as they can get from others; others rediscover the virtue of caring for one another—at least until conditions return to normal and the corrupt form of meritocracy reasserts itself.

I was privileged to have been given executive authority at a young age, but it took me far too long to understand that my success depended on the success of my group. The temptation was to let others compete for individual recognition, when what I really needed to do was ensure that every member of the team had the knowledge, training, aptitude, and tools to do an excellent job—and that they worked together, not against each other. I learned that lesson the hard way, though mentors had tried to teach it. My own father was one, and another was management theorist W. Edwards Deming, who thundered, “Stop focusing on the individual; pay attention to the system.” They were right.

A particularly painful and costly lesson about meritocracy was demonstrated during World War II. Bombers flying over Germany were escorted by fighter planes whose pilots were instructed to pursue and destroy attacking German fighters. Many did so with great skill, earning the coveted title of “Ace” and being celebrated in the news. But while they were off chasing German planes, the bombers were left unprotected and losses were high. It was competitive meritocracy at its best—and worst.

One group operated by different rules: the Red Tails, the Tuskegee Airmen. This all-Black unit, set up for failure, surprised everyone with its success. They surrounded their bombers in tight, disciplined formations, each fighter responsible for a specific sector. They were to engage enemy planes in that area but not pursue them beyond it. Few of them became aces, but as a unit they downed many enemy fighters. More important, no bomber under their protection was lost to enemy aircraft. There were losses from flak or mechanical failure, but none to enemy fighters. It worked because they were a disciplined team with the right training, equipment, and leadership to form a well-coordinated whole that accomplished its mission: to protect the bombers and bring them home alive.

It should have been a lesson for the ages—but it was soon forgotten. There were other lessons learned during that war as well. Women proved they could do every factory job men could do, without sacrificing quality or productivity. Strategic planning and coordinated effort—done in that uniquely flexible American way—proved more effective than the rigid methods of the enemy, who relied on tactics over strategy. Individual initiative was valued, but always in service to collective success. Like the Tuskegee Airmen’s example, the point was well made, and then quickly forgotten.

Benjamin Franklin tried to make the same point back in 1776. He’s credited with saying, “We must all hang together, or we shall surely hang separately.” The Articles of Confederation offered a costly demonstration that independent states competing with one another while pretending to act as one nation was impossible. The Constitution drove home the truth that opportunity for individual success depends on the welfare of the whole.

Amendments to that Constitution have strengthened and broadened its protections, extending opportunity and rights to all Americans, not just some. It has not been an easy path. Too many still seek to restrict opportunity and rights to a chosen portion of the population. They have made enemies of fellow citizens who only seek the full measure of rights once reserved to white Americans. They have scorned immigrants—documented and undocumented alike—who come seeking a better life in the land of opportunity. They have championed a distorted form of individual competitiveness that ignores the welfare of all..

Most egregious of all, some have claimed the name of Jesus Christ while promoting policies antithetical to everything for which Christ lived, taught, died, and was resurrected.. 

I think there are two ways to bring this to a close.

First, to those who claim the name of Christ: be reminded that you are to discipline your life, as much as you are able, to the way of love Christ taught and commanded. In that way there is no room for retribution, no threats of violence, and no denigration of others.

Second, to the American public as a whole, regardless of religious tradition: recommit to a national ideal that personal freedom, opportunity, and success depend on the health and welfare of the entire society and everyone in it. Particular attention must be paid to the conditions that sustain poverty and limit opportunities to enjoy the comforts of sustainable prosperity for all. That ideal depends on individuals exercising personal responsibility for their own actions, including their obligation to contribute to the greater good. It also requires an informed citizenry, reasonably well versed in civics and history, which in turn depends on freedom of the press, academic freedom, and an honest, truthful understanding of how we became who we are and what we hope to become.

Would you like me to integrate this into the version of your article I edited yesterday so you can see how it flows as a complete piece?

Halloween aside, the Feast of All Saints is just around the corner. It’s one of those peculiar holy days where many are not quite sure what to do with it. I suggest that this year we set aside the usual crowd of traditional saints and focus our attention elsewhere. Where?

There are people, living and dead, who have helped form our understanding of what it means to be moral human beings—people who have lived with courage in a world that does not always respect or value morality. Perhaps we should spend some time reflecting on their lives and how they have exemplified for us what it means to live with integrity and respect for others.

Few of them will ever appear on an official list of saints. There may be exceptions among well-known figures whose books or public lives have influenced us, but I’m thinking more about those who have shaped us through personal relationships.

Quite a few come to my mind—my own father among them. He was the spiritual leader of our family and modeled generosity for me. Others who shaped my early years included a Lutheran pastor, a small-town police sergeant, and a high school classmate whose name I can no longer remember. Later in life there were a professor of philosophy and religion who was also a Franciscan oblate, and another professor of management who drew deeply from the Ten Commandments in his teaching. I’ve known clergy colleagues long deceased and others still living; an old-fashioned family doctor who still made house calls when few others did; a senior investment executive whose quiet faith guided his decisions; and a respected Sioux Nation chief who was a long-time parishioner.

The point is, these were ordinary people—men and women who were part of my life and helped me understand the deeper meaning of what it is to be a moral person striving to follow in the way of love, the way of the cross, and to respect the dignity of every human being. Like you, I have had times when my own failures and weaknesses left me in great need of that kind of mentorship. I am certain that each of those exemplars would say the same about themselves: there were times when their own shortcomings required the guidance of others.

Everyday saints such as these have been trusted exemplars of a better way because they have had to overcome their own struggles. They never achieved perfection—their closest friends knew better than to expect it, and their critics were quick to point out their flaws. But perfection was never their goal. Their goal was to commit their lives daily to Christ and the way of the cross, to walk with confidence amid change, hardship, and chaos.

What they all shared was a deep trust that “we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:15–16)

In my previous article, I tried to make a case for what constitutes authentic orthodox Christianity—faith expressed in many ways by many denominations yet sharing in one common belief, present in one holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. As important as that is, it is not sufficient. Faith affirmed in our religious services must be lived out in daily life, and nothing reveals more truthfully what we believe than the words we use in everyday conversation.

Most of the words we speak each day serve a utilitarian purpose. We use them to communicate the ordinary necessities of life—at home, at school, at work, and in our communities. There is nothing particularly sacred about most of it, yet the way in which we use those words—the tone we embed in them—bears sacred weight. They reveal much about our beliefs, attitudes, and behavior.

Following in the way of Jesus Christ, if that phrase is to mean anything, is more difficult than we often think, especially when it comes to the words we use. Words have enormous influence on what we believe and what we do. As the Apostle James observed:

“Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect, able to keep the whole body in check with a bridle. If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole bodies. Or look at ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits.

How great a forest is set ablaze by a small fire! And the tongue is a fire… With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.”
(James 3:2–10)

None of us get it right all the time, but we are commanded to keep working on it. Yet some who claim the name of Christ don’t even try. They use words intended to humiliate and degrade, inciting hatred of others with little regard for the violence that follows. It is more than embarrassing—it is an offense against God and everything Jesus lived and died for. It betrays the very heart of the Christian faith and makes a mockery of denominations and congregations striving to live into the way of life God prescribed in Christ Jesus.

“I tell you, on the day of judgment you will have to give an account for every careless word you utter; for by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.”
(Matthew 12:36–37)

Television, streaming services, and social media are awash with provocateurs stoking fear that the United States is no longer a “Christian nation.” It never was. It has been a nation in which nominal Christianity was the dominant religion—a shallow one at that—often serving more as emotional balm for anxious souls than as a call to follow the path of Jesus. Too often it has blamed every hardship on some vulnerable population said to be the enemy of all that is good and proper. Few of us have escaped that trap, yet most, I hope, try to repent and make amends. Still, too many revel in religious scapegoating, claiming to be “biblical” even as they desecrate the teachings of Jesus and the apostles.

“Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so your words may give grace to those who hear. Put away all bitterness, wrath, anger, wrangling, and slander, together with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.”
(Ephesians 4:29–32)

There is a universal stumbling block we must overcome in following Christ in our daily lives: the cultural formation that shapes us from childhood. Every generation inherits norms, attitudes, and behaviors that give society stability, but too often these norms are given the authority of Holy Scripture, supported by verses taken out of context as proof texts. They have been used to justify prejudices and injustices that oppress others and deny them the privileges we claim for ourselves.

Each Christian must test whether our assumptions about what is sinful or objectionable to God align with the commandments to love—and with the apostles’ teaching about living in the way of Jesus.

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good… Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them… Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all… If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink… Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
(Romans 12:9–21)

Action movies rarely deviate from plots of revenge that promise justice. It can be uncomfortably satisfying to see the “bad guys” get what they deserve—perhaps because it satisfies our own grudges. Our current president promised to be a person of retribution and has made good on that promise, seeking revenge on those who held him accountable or disagreed with him. Taken together, popular entertainment and political rhetoric are normalizing personal revenge as acceptable social behavior. As James wrote, “My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.”

Vengeance belongs to God alone. It is, curiously, a vengeance whose purpose is to save, not to condemn. How that works out is God’s business, not ours. Our duty is to seek justice fairly and humbly, knowing that it will always be imperfect. History is full of both the best and worst examples of human justice; we are obligated to abolish the worst and pursue the best.

“By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control… Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.”
(Galatians 5:22–24)

To “crucify the flesh” does not mean abolishing passion or desire but keeping them under control. Passion becomes destructive when it turns obsessive and begins to control us; desire becomes sinful when it displaces what is necessary, right, and good. To crucify our passions and desires is to bring them into harmony with the way of Christ’s love.

“The wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.”
(James 3:17–18)

Authentic orthodox Christianity is manifested in persons and communities committed to living the way of Christ’s love as best they can, given their human limitations and frequent stumbles. They are marked by humility—by the willingness to confront their failures, renew their efforts, and rely on God’s help. Self-righteousness has no place among them.

What makes them authentic is their disciplined intention to measure themselves by God’s commandments to love—and to be honest about what that measurement reveals. Their authenticity is certified not by perfection, but by perseverance: perseverance in showing love to others, even when criticized, persecuted, or despised.

There are many ways in which the Christian faith can be expressed and remain orthodox—but not every way is. The ultimate authority for what is true and good is found in the words and deeds of God incarnate, Jesus Christ. Every other claim to what is good and true is subordinate to and judged by these. That includes all of Hebrew scripture and everything in the letters of Paul and the other apostles.

Not every voice proclaiming itself to be Christian truly is. In every age there are loud voices attracting followers down paths far from the one Jesus pioneered for us. The Church itself can err—and has. Therefore, it must always be a Church in the process of self-examination, confession, and repentance.

The one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church takes many forms in many places. Amid all its vast variety there are two measures of orthodoxy. Both are necessary and one is more important than the other.

The first is a shared understanding of who God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is. This is necessary because people are inclined to create gods in their own image. The Lord God Almighty is not a thing among other things in the universe but the very source and sustainer of the universe itself. We are God’s creatures—not the other way around. What we can know of God has been revealed to us by God, first through prophets and sages, and finally in Christ Jesus, who is God incarnate. The measure of Christian orthodoxy is the degree to which we submit ourselves and our wills to that one holy, revealed truth about God.

The other necessary—and more important—measure of Christian orthodoxy is the degree to which the Church and everyone in it does their best to follow in the way of Jesus Christ as he commanded and demonstrated by his words, deeds, death, and resurrection. Jesus left us with three commandments upon which hang everything else in Scripture and life.

The first was to love God with all one’s heart, soul, and mind—without reservation.
The second was to love oneself and one’s neighbors, even those neighbors one does not like or trust. Neither was new. God had given those commandments long ago, as the Hebrews leaving Egypt for Canaan were taught how to become children of God. The third commandment was new: to love one another as Jesus has loved us.

What that love looks like was demonstrated in Jesus’ every word and deed as recorded in Holy Scripture. We are to be imitators of him to the best of our abilities.

What follows is a brief examination of these two measures, in the hope that they might help readers discern which public voices are—or are not—proclaiming authentic, orthodox Christianity.

The Church, by its own right, has no inherent authority to declare what is or isn’t authentic Christianity. God does. The authority lies in the three commandments of love and there is no higher authority than that. The Church merely affirms what God has revealed through the prophets and what Christ Jesus taught and commanded and to what his disciples witnessed and bore testimony.

While God’s revealed truth is eternal and inerrant, our ability to understand it is not—and we can easily go astray. By about 250 years after the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the Church had spread throughout the Roman Empire and far beyond. In that time, people had begun to invent out of their own imagination various ways of claiming to be Christian that were inconsistent with Holy Scripture and with the testimony of those who had been closest to Jesus.

It was time to separate the wheat from the chaff. Church elders met in sometimes contentious but always prayerful councils resulting in the Nicene Creed. The Creed established a wide circle within which there are many ways to express the orthodox faith in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Questions remained and it took several other councils before they were fully addressed.

The Creed remains today the essential definition of orthodox Christianity. It accommodates an enormous variety of ways in which denominations can express their shared faith. Nevertheless, a fourth-century understanding of God and salvation has difficulty fitting the conditions of our time. That should not be surprising. Our understanding is always partial and always changing. As the Apostle Paul said, we see in a mirror dimly; we know only in part. We will not fully understand until we enter God’s heavenly kingdom and the greater life beyond the grave. In the meantime, we do the best we can—recognizing that we may be wrong and always learning.

The Nicene Creed is a necessary but not sufficient measure of authentic Christianity. More subtle—and more important—is the requirement that Christians do their best to follow in the way of Jesus Christ and his commandments of love. As the Apostle James wrote, even the demons know who God is. Reciting the Nicene Creed and believing it to be true is only the beginning. James also wrote that one must be a doer of the word and not merely a hearer of it.

To be an authentic Christian is to obey, as best we can, the commandments of love in thought, word, and deed. A religion that claims to be Christian but proclaims teachings antithetical to loving God, loving self, and loving neighbor as Jesus demonstrated is simply not Christian—no matter what it calls itself.

It is difficult for every generation to discern what those commandments mean in the complicated circumstances of life. Yet these same commandments also lead us to new and deeper understandings that often upend the normal ways of thinking and doing. We are always in a state of becoming, always in the process of new birth—a process often painful, confusing, and untimely. It takes patient, prayerful discernment to let God lead us rather than trying to lead God.

To be an orthodox Christian is to be intentionally aware that we may err—and sometimes have. We may hold on to old ways too long or adopt new ways too soon. But we can have confidence that God will lead us, if we listen with our hearts, to greater depths of love—and remain cautious about how easily false prophets can mislead the gullible.

With all that in mind, it should be clear that so-called Christian nationalism—seeking to bind a form of Christianity unknown to the ways of Jesus Christ to a form of government that would repeal the American experiment in republican democracy—has nothing to do with orthodox Christianity. Nor do public figures speaking with voices of orthodoxy, who claim to defend Christianity while oppressing and abusing the very people whom Jesus healed and reconciled.

Beware of those who try to use God to pursue agendas that undermine the three commandments of love and fail to show respect for the dignity of every human being and for God’s sacred creation.

(based on Jeremiah 29:7)

Babylon captured Jerusalem about six hundred years before Christ and exiled all but the poorest of its residents to various parts of the Babylonian Empire. God, speaking through the prophet Jeremiah, instructed them to seek the welfare of the place where they were, to pray for it, because in its welfare they would find their own.

That was a long time ago. God’s people remain scattered across the world, yet the instruction still stands. We are to seek the welfare of the places where we live. We are to pray for those who lead them, because our own well-being depends on the welfare of the cities and nations in which we dwell.

It sounds like wise advice, but modern American individualism resists it. Many of us have been raised to expect that society should make our personal welfare its highest priority, while our contribution to the welfare of society is voluntary—something to offer if convenient. That’s a generalization, of course, but one with more truth than we like to admit. The problem is that it reverses God’s command. Those who claim to be God’s people are commanded to seek the welfare of the places where they live, for it is only in their welfare that we can find our own.

If we are to take God’s command seriously, we must ask three questions:

1. What do we mean by welfare?
2. What is required for the welfare of our cities and nations?
3. How does the welfare of our community contribute to our own?

The Hebrew word translated as welfare is shalom. Most readers know it as a greeting meaning “peace,” or perhaps “grace and peace to you.” But it means far more. No single English word captures its depth.

Shalom embraces the breadth and depth of wholeness without which peace cannot exist—freedom from want, from danger, the blessing of a congenial community, the opportunity to prosper according to one’s ability, and the contentment that comes from meeting life’s challenges. Even that description falls short.

The point is that we are not commanded merely to wish for the welfare of our cities and nations, but to seek it. Seeking requires action. It means working for the welfare of these places as a primary obligation of living in them.

The needs that make up a community’s welfare are vast. None of us can do everything, but each can do something. It begins with care for our families and friends, for the neighborhoods where we live. It requires that we treat each person with honor and dignity, as one made in the image of God. Bluntly, that rules out any form of abuse or exploitation. It demands that we actively seek each other’s good, regardless of whether others do the same. We are commanded by God to do what we can, regardless.

The welfare of our cities, states, and nation depends on making continual progress toward the promises of our Declaration of Independence and Constitution, as amended. Human knowledge and skill have grown, and with them our responsibility to develop new ways of relating to one another for the good of all creation.

We must be honest about practices and conditions that prevent shalom from flourishing, and be willing to change direction when needed. God is still speaking, still creating. We must listen with intention to where God is leading us—honoring the old ways, yet living into the new as God reveals them.

Above all, the welfare of our communities depends on how we treat the poorest and least advantaged. If that is not clear to everyone who claims to be one of God’s people, we have failed. Facing this truth requires unapologetic honesty about our own prejudices and the courage to confront conditions that subjugate others, create obstacles to shalom, or favor the demands of the wealthy and powerful over the needs of all.

God commands us to seek the welfare of the places where we live, but does not promise that we will achieve it. We may fail. We may make small progress—or great strides forward. Whatever the outcome, we are commanded to seek: to act for the shalom of the places where we live. That is our calling.

The more we seek the welfare of our communities, the greater the likelihood that we will find our own. What makes up our individual welfare? President Franklin D. Roosevelt suggested four freedoms:

• freedom from want,
• freedom from fear,
• freedom to worship, and
• freedom to speak.

Our constitutional amendments have opened those freedoms to an ever-wider variety of people, regardless of race, sex, or condition of life. The prophets went further, teaching that social and economic justice are essential to shalom. No one should be penalized for being poor, and no one is entitled to be wealthy as a matter of right. Those who are rich in material goods, knowledge, or wisdom are obligated to be generous, humble, and mindful that they are not inherently better than others. Their wealth must serve the common good.

Only by seeking the welfare of the places where we live can any of us hope for our own personal shalom: safety, shelter we can afford, food and clothing enough, times of rest and joy, and the satisfaction of meeting new challenges that call forth our best efforts.

If we reverse the order—if we demand that society place our personal welfare first—the result is decay and destruction. Society corrodes. Most people live fearfully as subjects of the state, or worse, of lawless warlords. A few may enjoy fragile privilege, but none will know shalom.

Growing up in Minnesota, the only thing I learned about Columbus Day was that in 1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Otherwise, Columbus Day wasn’t very important. As a minor footnote, we also learned that Columbus stumbled on some Caribbean islands and never set foot on the mainland of North America.

Given that it was Minnesota, we also learned that Leif Erikson had probed the shores of North America almost 500 years earlier. Nordic history describes Vikings routinely traveling to portions of North America to trade, hunt, and fish. But what we did not learn was that Polynesian navigators were able to traverse the islands of the Pacific at will, or that the great Chinese merchant fleet was sailing the waters of the Arabian and Indian Oceans in the seventh and eighth centuries.

Columbus, with limited navigational skill and rather crude sailing ships, nevertheless accomplished something worth remembering. He opened the door to a furious assault on the oceans as Europeans attempted to understand the world beyond their own parochial limitations—creating maps and recording findings that could be shared widely. He helped reveal opportunities for scientific investigation that were previously unthinkable.

I don’t think any of that was his intention; it’s just what happened as a result of his voyages. Sadly, he also opened the doorway to conquest, subjugation, enslavement, and empire-building. Whether he had any idea that such things would follow, I have no idea. It seems his primary interests were wealth, prestige, and power. It didn’t end well for him—he gained and lost it all.

With that said, I have no particular stake in celebrating Columbus Day as a national holiday. It was never celebrated where I grew up, except in name. If Italian Americans wish to celebrate it as a tribute to their heritage, by all means, let them do so.

I’m also not very keen on simply substituting Indigenous Peoples’ Day for Columbus Day. The idea is too important to be a mere replacement for something else. It deserves its own day, enacted in law—a day dedicated not to an abstraction of “indigenous peoples,” but to their particular nations, histories, cultures, and contributions to American life.

It should also be a day recognizing the injustices heaped upon them, not only during the European conquest of North America but also in the enduring legacy of that conquest—indignities and abuses that continue to this day.

Don’t be confused: this is not about chest-beating or self-condemnation for what those of European heritage have done to Native Americans. It is simply about being honest with ourselves. Reparations can never fully be made, but the future can be different if we are willing to face reality without fear.

Perhaps the best way to begin is to give Indigenous Americans a day in which their voices are heard and not ours—to let them decide how to celebrate and how the rest of us should celebrate with them. Let them be the ones who determine what the day should mean for the entire nation.

Our break is over. Although I did my best to keep up with the news, it was refreshing to simply look at the ocean, the rugged terrain of Alaska and the Aleutian Islands, and the beauty of Hokkaido and Honshu in Japan. It was a powerful reminder that this fragile Earth, our island home, is a magnificent and sacred treasure. The Earth is strong and resilient, but it requires care, and it is clear that we have not done well as stewards of creation.

This trip, like last year’s visit to the Nordic lands and the islands of the North Atlantic, demonstrated how much of the rest of the world is working hard to make amends. How sad it is that the United States is doing just the opposite—at least for the next three years. It is shameful and, as an American traveling abroad, deeply embarrassing.

Equally embarrassing was becoming more aware of the disrepute in which our current administration is held by others around the world. Thankfully, that disapproval does not extend to Americans in general. The United States was once the epitome of Western civilization and the model others aspired to follow. That is no longer true. We may still have the world’s largest economy and the highest standard of living, at least by some measures, but it is equally clear that every other industrial nation is far ahead of us, each in its own way. We are struggling to keep our heads above water, sinking toward second-tier status. Many will refuse to see that reality, but it remains nonetheless. It will take decades to emerge from it—if we can at all—should the current administration establish a trend that cannot be reversed.

As we prepare to celebrate the nation’s 250th anniversary, we might remember that 250 years is only an eyeblink in history—a very short time for any civilized nation to have existed. We declared our independence on the grounds that a tyrannical government had deprived us of our rights as Englishmen, and so we were compelled to go our own way. The Constitution, as amended, has been the instrument by which we have declared our intent to be a nation in which individual rights, dependent on the greater good of the community, are guaranteed to every person regardless of their condition in life.

For 250 years we have been living into that promise—never fully achieving it, but always progressing toward it. The nation has endured many challenges, including a brutal civil war, but it has always survived and moved forward. There is no guarantee that the American dream will endure. Its survival depends entirely on the will of the people to recognize truth and reality in the face of intentional deceptions that promote a false narrative. These deceptions create an illusion of a past that never was, a present that does not exist, and a future that embraces everything antithetical to our Constitution, the American dream, and our hope for greater freedom for all.

We have created enemies where none exist. Citizen protests against injustice are called insurrections. Relatively peaceful cities are labeled war zones. It is frightening because it is truly dangerous. It demands our utmost courageous opposition—but even that is not enough.

We must be clear about addressing the practical issues of everyday life through the proclamation of workable solutions to basic needs: food security, affordable housing, clean energy, restoration of our infrastructure, and quality public education in every area of need—from kindergarten through trade schools, community colleges, and universities. These are the essentials, and they must be addressed first. Other important issues of social justice remain significant, but the essentials must come first. Only then will the majority of the public be willing to understand and support the need for greater social justice for those on the margins.

I have no idea how any of that will work out—or even if it can. What I do know is that each of us can act as if we care about our neighborhoods, our cities, and our nation. If we care, we will behave in ways that treat them with respect and contribute what we can to make them better.

This is especially true for those of us who call ourselves Christian. We are commanded by our Lord to do so. There is no excuse that relieves us of that duty. Every political and social ideology is subordinate to our Lord’s commandments: to act in love for others, to respect the dignity of every human being, and to work for the welfare of the places in which we live.