“Not everyone who says to me Lord, Lord, will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only those I find doing the will of my Father.” (Mat. 7:21)

While many Christians assume that confession, baptism and church attendance is the sine- qua-non of salvation, a closer reading of scripture would serve to indicate otherwise. While the atonement of Christ may cover the sins of the repentant, what hope remains for those who continue to indulge their fallen nature after having once repented? Has the Spirit been conferred upon the believer only to become a handmaiden of sin? I think not! As the Apostle Paul, said: “Having once been saved, how can the repentant return once again to the dominion of sin?” (Rom. 6:2) Clear enough, yet he unpacks more by saying: “…that through the Spirit by faith, we eagerly await the hope of righteousness” (Gal. 5:5) Interesting! What happened to the nearly universal understanding that righteousness has been imputed to us through grace, because of Jesus’ meritorious sacrifice on the cross?

While the obvious correlation between these two trajectories is in their potential outcomes, the apostle again makes it abundantly clear that those who willfully continue in sin “…will not inherit the kingdom of God.” (Gal. 5:19) In other words, the path toward “life everlasting” is that path which produces righteousness. Yet, even though Christ said that “the kingdom of Heaven commeth not through observation, it is within,” (Lk. 17:20-21), he was speaking metaphorically of how the kingdom first appears, as if from a tiny mustard seed planted in our hearts, to its eventual expression through works pleasing to God, and then collectively until it becomes a sheltering tree of life for others.

While many await the resurrection in rapt anticipation, it might be appropriate to address the resurrected life. If we recall the parable of the wedding feast (Mat. 25:1-6), there were ten consecrated virgins, five of which had oil for their lamps, and five who didn’t. Yet all ten eventually became weary and slept, awaiting the bridegroom’s return. Upon the master’s impromptu arrival, all those with oil were able to trim their lamps (making fine adjustments in order to produce even more light) and were granted entry into the wedding feast, while those who remained unprepared and without oil, were not.

When viewing the parable within the larger context, (Mat. 25: 14-30) it becomes apparent that the oil is of particular importance. Although each virgin has the requisite lamp, it is the oil that becomes central to the story, as without it there can be no light. While the lamp can be seen as emblematic for the potential of spiritual illumination, it requires a spark to ignite it. From that perspective, it would seem that the Holy Spirit would serve that purpose, as it is the Spirit which provides the anointing for our service. This in turn connotes to not only a spiritual intimacy, but a sense of shared responsibility in concert with the Holy Spirit. “Faith is not programmatic; it is not a matter of spiritual progress, but arises as a result of repentance, which in turn produces works.” Admittance to the wedding party therefore requires more than belief, it requires action. As the apostle James said: “…can faith alone save us?” (Jm. 12: 14-17)

Realistically, there never has been a doctrinal architecture sufficient to account for the faith which calls one to service. A faith which to this day remains a mystery, in spite of all the theological calisthenics that attempt to explain it. And, regardless of what can be said in the Church’s defense concerning canonical oversight, or its shepherding of the historical church, a salvific relationship with God remains entirely independent of hierarchical mechanics. And sadly, whatever contribution the Church has made is now being eroded. As in its current struggle to remain relevant in a post-modern society, it now finds itself pandering to the inactive and the unwilling, even as it preaches an insipid gospel so as not to offend anyone.

Simply put, the single-track of holiness has become a well-travelled road of ruts., with the open door of salvation now that of a revolving door opening onto a “street of dreams.” In the current religious environment, service has come to mean exactly that. — A “what’s in it for me” weekly entertainment venue and Sunday nurture narrative. Yet service is what the Lord requires, of us. As he said: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.” (Mat. 12:30) And considering the fact that he alone was counted worthy to open ‘The Lambs Book of Life,” having sacrificed himself in hopes of securing “a kingdom of priests unto our God,” (Rev. 5:10) it leaves little doubt as to the path that lies ahead. While “cheap grace“, as Bonhoeffer put it, may buy us time, its primary attraction is to defer responsibility through unmerited favor until the final chapter.

But, if we think that because of the hour the church has become irrelevant, I would beg to differ. Considering the circumstances, a living church is what the doctor ordered; form then must follow function. Even though the denominational landscape is part of our faith DNA, its obvious that religious expression alone can never formulate the spiritual transformation needed to turn a rake into a plowshare. As for the reason, tell me where is the doorway wide enough, the hall large enough, or the altar sacred enough to annoint the harvest to come? While religion has served as an instrument of faith, it is only the servants themselves that will attend the wedding feast. Let us open wide the doors of our hearts then, even as we sanctify ourselves for service, and in doing so become the lamps that light the way.

“…The law was not made for a righteous man, but for the lawless and disobedient.” (1 Tim. 1:9)

America is burning! Fueled not only from a sense of deferred hope and endless frustration, but through a spirit of rebellion, as demonstrated by acts of lawlessness and wanton destruction. Nevertheless, a social order derived solely through the enforcement of law will never be sufficient to impose the self-restraint needed for peaceful coexistence. Although justification exists for challenging governing authorities concerning their failure to institute meaningful reform, democracy still remains central to its effectual resolution, yet democracy itself is still dependent upon individual responsibility for its collective viability. But, whether the problem lies in the failure of our institutions, or in ourselves alone, it is perhaps the de-moralization of society itself, with its growing emphasis on entitlement, which is at the root of the decay in this post-modern society.

Although the impetus for social activism has always been to right the wrong of injustice, historical attempts at reform have repeatedly fallen victim to competing interests, which in turn have either been better organized or better funded. And, if we can let history be our guide, we might do well to remember the French Revolution of 1793 and the people’s revolt over the price of — bread! Yet, their initial justification was eventually coopted by the charismatic figure of Robespierre, the guillotine and The Reign of Terror. And in retrospect, the outcome was nearly the same for the Russian Revolution of 1917, which provided the opportunity for Bolshevism. In turn, the Chinese Cultural Revolution soon followed, but it too succumbed to a counterrevolution orchestrated by Chairman Mao and the Red Guard, with their hollow promises, followed by social purges and mass famine. The point being, that after all this time society has yet to bring about a structured reform that’s commensurate with a state of elevated consciousness in the individual, a prerequisite for any kind of lasting change reflective of an equitable and just society.

While the American Revolution is often viewed as one of those few exceptions, it also has fallen well short of its democratic aspirations and precepts of founding as a government — “…of the people, by the people, and for the people.” Although it willingly accepting Indians, as well as Blacks, as voluntarily conscripts during the Revolutionary War, the recognition of their separate “inalienable rights” routinely met with derision from the public sector and “lawful” resistance from the top. And, if it hadn’t been for the personal sacrifice of a few of their number, freedom’s march would never have been anything more than a hallelujah in a hailstorm. Yet, when we consider the progress they did make, it was simply due in large part to those individuals who found the moral courage to rise above the fray.

And, while the majority of these notables were motivated by reason of basic survival, human dignity, or the simple injustice of it all , there were others who saw in their abridged rights an inequity which could only be remedied by appealing to scripture in the light of the U.S. Constitution, thereby serving to convict White Christian Americans of their complicity in the prevailing sentiment of “Manifest Destiny.” Foremost among these was William Apess (1798-1838-?), a Pequot, Methodist Minister, who successfully argued on behalf of God in light of the enshrined principles of the U.S. Constitution. “While Christianity was a faith that could be offered to Indians because it confirmed their equality with all other humans…, it could not come at the expense of an unrelieved deprivation of native liberty and the deliberate destruction of their cultural and physical beings. To that end, his need was not to convert Native Americans to Christianity, but to controvert Euro-Americans’ historical exclusion of his people from the making of America.” (O’Connell, 1992) What can be further said of Apess can be summed up in these few words: “With thinking men, those whose sentiments are worthy of regard, there is but one opinion, and that is the soul of the Indian is immortal.”

Best remembered standing at the front of the strengthening concourse in Washington D.C., saying “I have a dream…” Martin Luther King Jr. also challenged entrenched interests, but through non-violent, direct-action. Although King proposed a means of social equality through integration, his contemporary Malcolm X was more pragmatic and forthright, identifying the system itself as the source of the problem. Yet, like Apess, they both seized upon the principles of the nation’s own founding to secure the higher ground, and in doing so awakened Americans from their self-imposed slumber to reengage this nation’s true purpose. Addressing the people directly, while at the same time arguing from a superior position of religious ethics they succeeded where others had failed. By stirring up a spirit of conviction, while underscoring the original “social contract” of unity and shared destiny, they in turn reminded the people of their collective responsibility in promoting and protecting their promised freedoms. And central to that concept of American liberty, they emphasized the prerequisites of responsibility, sacrifice and self-restraint as a preliminary requirement for all those who would desired to live within a nation of free people .

While contending for the greater good is a requisite for progress toward a more perfect union, its realization will remain forever distant without a complimentary regeneration of our ethical acuity and moral proclivity. But, even as our collective conscience cannot survive in a spiritual vacuum, any appeal to a higher authority will remain forever vacant without a corresponding belief in its heavenly origin. In that regard, we then might consider the early English reformer, John Wycliffe (1328-1384), who said: “This Bible is for the Government of the People, by the People, and for the People”. And, in spite of modern sensibilities, the Bible still serves as the only extant blueprint for the formation of a truly civil society.

As a country of mixed races, religious pluralism, and secular idealism, America’s unifying and compelling vision, as articulated in our own Constitution and Bill of Rights, has always been our common cause. But when our consumptive tendencies serve to subvert our higher calling, political misdirection, and chaos are soon to follow. And, sowing into the wind our indifference we will then reap the whirlwind of own indiscretion. Change may come, but let it not be at the cost of our deepest convictions. And, while I would argue that the only thing keeping us from the flames at this point may be a collective repentance, we are for certain approaching precipice from which there will be no turning back. But whether we are consumed from below, or in the end, lifted on high, “…repentance must first come to the house of the Lord” (1 Pet. 4:17). The sepulcher must first be opened and the dead raised, as only those alive in Christ will live to inherit his Kingdom.

“I went outside early one morning to pray, over there where you go, when I looked up and saw this big, shiny, cylinder-like object way up in the air over the village. It looked like a big bomb, with seven smaller bombs hanging down from it. And on the side of the Big Bomb these words were written: Moto emekuja Kutoka binginni emkuja Kinni.” (Reverend David Salmon 2002)*

While this post concerns that vision, received by a revered Alaska Native elder, the late Rev. Dr. David Salmon, its symbolism serves to illustrate the inter-connectivity of the Spirit regardless of time, geography, or culture. And while the vision appears to take on increasing relevance as the future continues to unfold, the circumstances surrounding its appearance affirm God’s continuing witness among the Indigenous peoples of the world.

Apart from the particulars of the vision, when I questioned David about what it meant, he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know, and neither does anyone else I’ve talked to.” Then, abruptly getting up, while stepping into his office, he soon returned with a scrap of paper on which he’d written the words of the vision, saying: “Here, you take it, maybe you can find out what it means.” A few months later I did. My spiritual brother and mentor, Rev. Eridard Mukasa, had been stricken with cancer and the prognosis was less than promising. I made reservations, and by the following afternoon my family and I were at his house in Pasadena. Yet we weren’t alone as if turned out. even though we were the only non-Africans in attendance. Later that same day, as the women began to prepare dinner, and I chatted with the men in the living room, I was surprised to learn that they were all Christian ministers, most having only recently emigrated to the United States from all over Africa.

Once the initial formalities were over and their curiosity finally got the better of them, the questioning began. “How do you know Eridard, how did you first meet; where did you come from, and why are you here, etc.?” Yet, when I offered that I was a Native minister, from Alaska, called “…to unite the Indigenous peoples of the Americas under the banner and headship of Christ,” it was eyes wide open. After a lengthy interval, the one to my right turned, and with some hesitation said: “Tell us about the vision.”

After describing the connection between my calling and that of David Salmon’s, I reached for my Bible; removing that piece of paper upon which the words from David’s vision had been written, I handed to him. The look of shock on his face as he read it, as well as that of every single one of them was electric. After a long pause, the one to my right finally turned and said: “This is strange indeed, as we can all read it; it’s written in Kiswahili (the universal language of Africa). It concerns an ancient prophecy from before the arrival of the White missionaries and well-known all over Africa. “Moto emekuja Kutoka binginni emkuga Kinni, or Moto Kutoka Mbinguni concerns a time in which the “fire from God” will rain down on earth, purging the just, while consuming the wicked.

Turning once again, my host paused, before saying, “It would be just like God to bring you and Eridard together, for the two of you are both alike. Even so, we were all called here, individually, and seeded according to God’s purposes, to speak life into America and prophesy, that these bones might live, and so become a mighty army beyond numbering.”