In this seemingly shifty and shakeable world that we are trying to survive, or for goodness sake build something in and leave a legacy, how do we ensure we aren't building monuments that won't one day be erased from the face of the earth by some megalomaniac's missiles? And as we read of such missiles unraveling millions of lives and life missions through our screens as we enjoy hot-buttered toast with well-roasted coffee, how do we swallow without some measure of guilt? Why me? Why not me? How do I feel, much less act, in solidarity with the oppressed without being depressed? The answer to these questions isn't easy or straightforward.

We read in Matthew 13 that the kingdom of heaven is like a man who planted wheat. His enemy came in the night and planted weeds amongst the wheat. When they began to emerge from the ground, his servants asked if they should go through the field and pull out the weeds. The owner said, "no, because by doing so, you will uproot some of the wheat. Wait until the harvest." This world is God's. His kingdom wheat is growing and will bear a fruitful harvest. It is also true that there is trouble, suffering, wars, disasters, etc. sown in amongst the wheat. As long as there is mortality, there will be death and disease and grief and loss. But, we do not have to focus on them. They do not determine the ultimate meaning of the universe. They do not have the final word. They do not get to tell the story that we are all a part of.

The most responsible thing we can do to show our solidarity with Ukrainians and with every other people group that is undergoing persecution...is to love our kids, to throw birthday parties, to walk our dogs, to tend our gardens, to hug a loved one, to speak words of life, and to show simple acts of kindness to a stranger. Simply put, the way we beat the darkness out there is to cultivate light on the inside, through all the little, faithful things. Folding laundry, changing diapers, taking that online class, putting in extra time at work, taking time off of work to take our kids to a park, all of it—every single bit of normal life—will confound the powers of darkness in the world, to the point of making them transparently silly and laughable—like the emporer in his new clothes—to prove that the power they project isn't real. They want—no, they need—our fear to stay alive, to stay in power. But we know. We know there is no real power or authority outside of King Jesus. If we convert all of our fear into trust and place it in him, every other intimidating thing, every big scary bad guy, gets deflated, shrunk down to something (if it wasn't so harmful) almost pitiable.

Do not fear the authoritarians. That's what they want you to do. Do not fear what they fear. Fear the Lord and be free to live a beautiful life in your school, in your workplace, in your neighborhood, in your community. Create beauty and give it away. Give everything you do the attention of a gardener with a flower garden...and know that that is more important for our world than anything a president or military can do. The world wants you to believe that you are low on the totem pole, that your life is insignificant, that titles and accomplishments are the only things that prove your worth. This couldn't be further from the truth. When you bake cookies for your neighbor or invite an immigrant into your home for a meal or watch someone's kids for them or tell a joke that brings smiles to faces, you are releasing something so powerful and impactful, that presidents and kings would be jealous.

Jesus doesn't tell us that we don't have enemies. He just shows us how we can make them our friends. Because, we should know by now that there is no "them." There is only "us." He makes this clear when he says that when we visit the prisoner, when we give the thirsty a drink, or when we give the destitute clothes, we do all these things unto him—as if they were Jesus himself. Who and what were these people before? The prisoner was a criminal; the thirsty may have been a cheat; the destitute may have "gotten themselves into their mess." But Jesus never gives us permission to disqualify certain segments from mercy or from kindness. Jesus turns the the criminal-turned-prisoner into himself, the whatever-turned-destitute into himself; the strapped-for-cash-turned-prostitute into himself; and with all these Jesuses around us, we have the privilege (and responsibility) to serve him, to love him, to care for and feed and cover him, to bring him into our families, to convert them with love into pillars of our communities.

You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Turn your light on. Sprinkle your salt. We all need reminding who’s in charge here.