To My Siblings In Christ: Seek First the Kingdom
Photo by Ryan Millsap on Unsplash
This article was first shared on Pastor JD Larson’s Medium and has been reposted here with his permission.
“Seek the Kingdom of God above all else…” Matthew 6:33 NLT
Many friends and family have reached out in the past month to check in and express their love and concern for me, my family, the church I pastor, and Minneapolis. I’ve been about the work of everyday life — parenting our kiddos, caring for our church, and more. But I wanted to take time to capture some of my thoughts, as an attempt to speak into the moment to those who care to listen.
I want to speak from the heart.
This past month has been, in some ways, deeply joyful for me, my family, and our church community — retreats, Rosie’s 10th birthday, shared meals, microchurch gatherings, moments of real connection. And in so many ways, it has been horrific. Heavy. Disorienting.
It does not feel right to simply scoot past that reality without continuing to create space to engage it honestly.
The word I keep returning to is heavy.
Grief. Fear. Anger. Confusion. Exhaustion.
Some of that exhaustion is a good tired — the kind that comes from leaning in, from loving neighbors well, from refusing to turn away. And some of it comes from the very human desire to simply live your life: to raise your kids, to enjoy the company of others, to move through the world without constant vigilance. Many of us feel the tension between the ordinary life we long to live and the moment we are actually living in. Carrying that tension is exhausting. Naming it is not weakness — it is honesty. It’s also worth naming that the ability to move in and out of that tension — to step back when we need rest — is itself a form of privilege. Not everyone has the option to disengage when the moment becomes overwhelming.
With that in mind, I am deeply proud of the community I pastor. I have watched people love their neighbors in the way of Jesus in tangible, costly, and faithful ways. I will continue to work with and alongside this community to keep loving Minneapolis in this way — quietly, relationally, persistently.
This brings us to what I believe is always the core discernment question for Christians:
How do we live faithfully as kingdom people in moments like this?
What follows, then, is not primarily for them.
It is for friends, family members, and others who have reached out — who have called, texted, or thought of me and Minneapolis — and who may resonate in some way with the labels Christian, evangelical, or Republican. It is written with respect, and with urgency.
A Growing Tension (not a new one)
Over the last few weeks, both in conversation with others and in my own heart, I’ve become more aware of a growing tension—a widening distance between my understanding of the kingdom of God and the realities of government and civic life as we currently experience them. This isn’t new, but it seems like an important moment.
There have been seasons in my life when that distance did not feel as pronounced. But it has deepened.
ICE descended on my city in force, disproportionate to the law they are said to enforce.
They killed Renee Good, a mother of three, a poet, and a caring citizen.
They have accosted and detained people I know, neighbors I share my life with.
They broke constitutional rights left and right
My daughter witnessed a violent arrest on her way to school
My neighbors are scared to come out of their homes
My neighbors with black and brown skin feel like they may need to carry around “papers”…
My kid’s classmates are not at school.
They detained a 5 year old
Then they killed Alex Pretti.
The government said he was a domestic terrorist… but we all saw the video. Far from it. They asked us not to believe our eyes.
All this raises new and familiar questions for me, and I want to keep offering them to you.
I grew up in a context that was loving and kind to me, and not inherently political. But in recent years, some expressions of that world have become increasingly fused to particular political loyalties. That shift has been confusing. It is disorienting to profess allegiance to Jesus while, in practice, giving greater loyalty to power, personality, or party.
This brings us to what I believe is always the core discernment question for Christians:
How do we live faithfully as kingdom people in moments like this?
That question deserves more than reflexes or slogans. It requires discernment, courage, and community.
Learning from History (and Its Warnings)
Much of what has shaped my thinking here has been informed by a recent essay from Process This titled Bonhoeffer’s Warning, Unheeded. I’m grateful for the clarity and restraint of that piece, and for how it draws from the life and witness of Dietrich Bonhoeffer without flattening history or forcing cheap comparisons.
Bonhoeffer’s context was different from ours. But as Mark Twain is often paraphrased: history may not repeat itself, but it does rhyme. And there is enough rhyme here to warrant attention.
Two dangers stand out.
Reasonable Christians have to ask if we have been guilty of both. Or at least resolve to not succumb to them.
The first is sequential complicity.
People do not wake up one morning and decide to abandon their moral convictions. More often, injustice is enabled through years of small decisions, growing social pressure, silence, and accommodation. It is the slow drift of conscience — not dramatic rebellion — that does the most damage. The analogy Trip Fuller gives in the aforementioned article is the old wives' tale about the frog that dies in the pot of slowly heated water.
Bonhoeffer named this with unsettling clarity:
“Christianity stands or falls with its revolutionary protest against violence, arbitrariness, and pride of power and with its plea for the weak… Christians should take a stronger stand in favor of the weak rather than considering first the possible right of the strong.”
The second danger is what Bonhoeffer called sociological stupidity — not a lack of intelligence, but a kind of paralysis that comes from overwhelming social pressure. We become frozen by fear of conflict, fear of rejection, fear of being misunderstood. We over-calculate every possible response and end up saying nothing at all.
This dynamic is closely related to what A Failure of Nerve describes: when anxiety runs high, individuals and systems lose clarity. We default to fight, flight, or freeze. We oversimplify. We cling to certainty rather than truth.
Faithfulness in anxious times is not about choosing a “side.”
It is about remaining differentiated enough to speak clearly without cutting ourselves off from relationship.
Kingdom Independence
This is where the idea of kingdom independence becomes essential.
Kingdom independence is not withdrawal from society, nor contempt for institutions. It is the freedom that comes from seeking first the kingdom of God — independence from fear-based loyalty, conformity, and the pressure to protect leaders at all costs.
It resists two temptations at once:
1 — total fusion with political power
2 — total disengagement from the world
Kingdom independence allows us to respect authority without excusing abuse, to love our country without worshiping its strength, and to call out leaders we may have supported when their actions and character move out of step with the way of Jesus.
I believe — sincerely — that the best thing for our country is a people who are free enough to confront their own leaders when they operate from pride, ego, and disregard for human dignity.
For my part, I believe Donald Trump represents a profound characterological immaturity that has deeply harmed our nation. This is not about policy preference. It is about a pattern of leadership shaped by narcissism, contempt, and grievance — a pattern that stands in clear conflict with Jesus-centered values, and one that has contributed to real violence, including the deaths of two of my neighbors.
Naming that is not radical. It is responsible.
A Word to Conservative, Evangelical and Republican-Leaning Christian siblings in Christ.
I want to pause here and speak directly to those who lean conservative, consider themselves evangelical, or Republican. I do so as someone who has, at different points in my life, considered myself conservative, evangelical, and Republican — and who still understands why those commitments feel meaningful, especially in uncertain times.
I know that for many of you, your posture is not rooted in cruelty or indifference. It comes from real convictions: a concern for social stability, a belief in personal responsibility, a desire for order rather than chaos, and a deep skepticism of movements that promise justice but seem to deliver division.
I understand the hesitation to align with anything portrayed as the “radical left.” I understand the fear that good intentions can be weaponized, that institutions can overreach, that cultural change can outpace wisdom. Those concerns are not imaginary, and they should not be dismissed.
I also understand the social cost you carry. Questioning leaders or rhetoric within your own circles can mean being labeled weak, disloyal, or naïve. For some, it risks friendships, family harmony, or a sense of belonging that has taken years to build.
If you feel caught between what your faith is asking of you and what your community expects from you, you are not alone.
This post is not a call to abandon conservatism or to embrace a different tribe. It is a call to something older and deeper: the freedom to remain loyal to Jesus even when that loyalty complicates our political identity.
My Appeal: Seek the kingdom first
Seeking first the kingdom means refusing to outsource our conscience to any leader — and trusting that faithfulness, not fear, is what ultimately heals a nation.
How can we do that:
Do Not Lose Sight of the Vulnerable
I also need to say this clearly.
These conversations — important as they are — can easily become a distraction from the work that matters most.
While many of us are sorting through our internal tension, there are people in our communities who are not wrestling with abstractions. Immigrant families are still afraid to send their kids to school. Parents are afraid to leave their homes. The powerless and vulnerable are carrying fear in their bodies every day.
If our discernment does not move us toward the vulnerable, then it has missed the heart of the kingdom.
Helping the vulnerable is not one issue among many.
It is the priority.
The Table as Resistance
Kingdom independence is rarely forged alone.
It is sustained in community.
Often, around a table.
One of the most overlooked aspects of resistance in times of moral crisis is how ordinary it often looks.
When we look back at the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and others who resisted dehumanizing systems, what stands out is not only their courage, but their relational proximity. Resistance did not begin with slogans or public platforms. It began around tables — in shared meals, sustained conversation, and human connection.
Historians note that those who retained moral clarity in times of great pressure often did so because they remained relationally connected. Empathy stayed alive. Courage had somewhere to grow.
The early church understood this intuitively. Shared meals were not incidental to their faith — they were subversive acts. To eat together across difference in the shadow of empire was to declare a different allegiance. Tables became places where fear loosened its grip, truth could be spoken, and the vulnerable were seen and protected.
This is why I believe practices like shared meals and honest conversation are not soft responses to hard times. They are disciplined acts of resistance. They slow us down. They resist simplification. They keep us human when systems push us toward slogans and scapegoats.
In my own community, I have seen how tables create space for disagreement without dehumanization, for clarity without cruelty, and for courage without isolation. They help us resist the twin dangers of sequential complicity and sociological paralysis by anchoring us in relationship.
Kingdom independence is rarely forged alone.
It is sustained in community.
Often, around a table.
Repent, Lament, Act
The Christian response in moments like this is not denial or defensiveness. It is a familiar, demanding rhythm:
Repent — reorient our allegiance, name where we have confused faithfulness to Jesus with loyalty to power.
When there is deep injustice, there is always an opportunity for repentance. Not just for those who perpetrate the injustice, but for all of us who bear witness and are affected. Repentance is not simply confessing committed sins — it’s broader and deeper than that. It means to TURN our attention and gaze on Jesus. All of us can do that, and in so doing are transformed. Transformed into more deeply committed Good news of the kingdom people.
Lament — grieve what has been lost, what has been harmed, what is still unfolding
In these times, we need to express the depth of what we are feeling. We can cry out to God with anger, anguish, confusion, whatever we are feeling and thinking. And do this on behalf of others. This is an important Christian practice. One is clearly on display in the psalms. Infact I would encourage you to go there. I encourage you to take time to write a psalm of lament in your own words in response to your experience of these times.
These Psalms capture raw emotion, grief, anger, confusion, cries for justice, and longing for God’s presence — all appropriate for lament in difficult times: Psalm 13, 22, 31, 42–43, 55, 69, 74, 79, and 89:38–52.
Act — move toward the vulnerable with courage, clarity, and love.
What I pray for is the courage for you to respond. You may not do it “perfectly” (that doesn’t exist and is beside the point). In these times, the difference between the kingdom (God’s dream for us and our city, country, and world) is stark. In that difference, there is Good News to be proclaimed through word and deed. Ask, and the Spirit will give you what you need.
These are specific ways North City is doing that, and that I have called our community into. You are welcome to take the same steps.
But do act — to many times I have been guilty of a passivity masked in a “both sides” argument, or a “he’s just an idiot people don’t really take him seriously” or “I don’t want to rock the boat …”
A Call to Action
If any of this resonates, I want to offer a clear invitation.
Have the courage to talk about this in your real relationships. Not online only. Not in vague terms. With people you know and love.
Call your leaders. Express your disagreement and your concern. Name how current actions conflict with your Christian convictions.
Call Donald Trump out clearly. Name the characterological immaturity that is hurting our country and endangering lives. Silence is not neutrality.
The desire of thoughtful, caring people to preserve stability and avoid overreaction has, too often, been exploited to normalize actions from this administration that should have been confronted sooner.
“Seek the Kingdom of God above all else…” Matthew 6:33 NLT
Seeking first the kingdom means refusing to outsource our conscience to any leader — and trusting that faithfulness, not fear, is what ultimately heals a nation.
