“For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us” (Ephesians 2:14).
In Ephesians, either Paul or his disciple invites us to see our vocations, the gifts and responsibilities entrusted to us, as holy offerings to the household of God. In this divine architecture, all are called to build the Kin(g)dom of God through mutual dignity, truth-telling, and service. The text challenges us to submit our vocational lives, be it as lawmakers, policy professionals, caregivers, or neighbors, to the self-giving love of Christ, who is our peace. Ephesians reminds us that vocation is not just, or even primarily, about personal fulfillment.Vocation ispublic discipleship. When we honor our own gifts and recognize the vocations of others as sacred, we resist the alienation and hierarchy that mark so much of our civic and political life. This is especially urgent for public servants, who often bear the emotional and physical toll of conflict and unrest. The church must continue to name their labor as sacred and stand with all who bear vocational burdens in pursuit of the common good.
This week, we grieve and condemn a series of recent violent political acts that have shaken our collective conscience. U.S. Senator Alex Padilla (D-CA) was shoved, forced to the ground, and handcuffed by security after attempting to ask a question at a press conference while defending the integrity of public servants. And there was a devastating attack on Minnesota lawmakers that left State Representative Melissa Hortman and her husband, Mark, dead, and State Senator John Hoffman and his wife, Yvette, hospitalized with serious injuries. We name these acts for what they are, political violence. We reject them with our whole hearts.
We are living through a pivotal moment in our nation’s history. The atmosphere is charged with division, fear, and escalating threats against those who serve in public life. But as Bishop Elizabeth Eaton reminded us last year, “division and violence don’t have to be our inevitable future.” Our call, as people of faith, is not to retreat but to show up with courage, love, and conviction.
Lutheran theology grounds us in a robust understanding of vocation: “Freed through the Gospel, we are to serve others through arenas of responsibility such as family, work, and community life”[1]. For those of us in the ministry of public policy, whether in Washington, Sacramento, or our own congregations, this means stepping boldly into advocacy as peacemakers, peacekeepers, and truth-tellers, even when it is costly. Political violence has no place in our shared life. We mourn those whose lives have been stolen by it, we stand with those who have been targeted by it, and we recommit ourselves to the long, faithful work of peacebuilding.
Jesus’s commandment to us to love one another as he loved us must inform our participation in the democratic process. Our faith should give us the strength to listen to our opponents when we want to denounce them, to respect those with whom we disagree, even when our instincts are to respond to fear and hate with disdain and rejection. We must have faith in ourselves and our ability to remain calm in the face of chaos, to preach love when surrounded by anger.
May we resist dehumanizing rhetoric, confess the violent tendencies within ourselves and our culture, and renew our collective courage to live as disciples of the Risen Christ, who breaks down walls and calls us to be bridge-builders, justice-seekers, and peacemakers.
In faith and fierce hope,
PAX,
Regina Q. Banks, JD
Director, Lutheran Office of Public Policy – California
[1] (Sufficient, Sustainable Livelihood for All, p. 7)