Burning Cities, Silent Shepherds
By: Rev. Nathaniel Brown
Minnesota is once again burning, literally and spiritually. Anyone who has watched the last several weeks unfold should be grieved, especially Christians. Yet much of the outrage we hear is misdirected, and in many cases, outright dishonest. Instead of naming rebellion, lawlessness, and violence for what they are, we are told these things are “loving,” “necessary,” or even “Christian.”
They are not.
To see why, we must not begin with modern slogans or sentimental talking points. We must begin with Scripture, echoed clearly and forcefully by Martin Luther during the Peasants’ War. In Against the Murderous, Thieving Hordes of Peasants, Luther identifies three grave sins that define rebellion. Though written in the sixteenth century, his words land with uncomfortable precision in our own day.
Luther names three sins:
Rebellion against lawful authority.
Rioting, stealing, destruction, and bloodshed.
Cloaking lawlessness in the language of the Gospel.
These same three sins are plainly visible in Minnesota today.
Scripture does not hedge on this matter. “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities,” St. Paul writes, “for there is no authority except from God” (Romans 13:1). This command is not optional. It is not conditional. It is not suspended because an authority is unpopular, inconvenient, or disliked.
This obedience flows from the Fourth Commandment. It extends beyond parents to all whom God places over us: in the home, in the Church, and in the civil realm.
There is only one exception. When earthly authorities command what God forbids or forbid what God commands, Christians must obey God rather than men (Acts 5:29). But disagreement with policy, enforcement priorities, or political leadership does not meet that standard. Dislike is not disobedience. Frustration is not justification. Resentment is not righteousness.
In Minnesota, Immigration and Customs Enforcement has been enforcing existing federal law. Whether one approves of that law is irrelevant to the Christian’s duty to honor lawful authority. To oppose law enforcement simply because one dislikes the law is not protest; it is rebellion.
When public officials themselves undermine lawful authority, disorder multiplies. When one authority urges resistance to another, confusion follows. Contempt for order spreads. The sword, which God gives to civil authorities to punish wrongdoing (Romans 13:4), does not vanish because it is resented.
Christians should not be surprised when resistance to the sword results in the sword being used.
The second sin Luther identifies is rioting. Not protest. Not speech. Rioting.
Riots destroy property. Riots terrorize neighborhoods. Riots intimidate the innocent. Riots spread fear far beyond their stated cause. They are not an extension of political expression; they are acts of violence.
In Minnesota, riots have followed ICE enforcement actions and the deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti. Businesses have been destroyed. Events canceled. Lives threatened. Journalists and bystanders were intimidated simply for being present.
None of this is justified. Ever.
Scripture provides clear paths for addressing injustice: repentance, lawful appeal, and orderly redress. It does not authorize mobs. It does not bless intimidation. It does not excuse the punishment of unrelated citizens to force political outcomes. Matthew 18 does not say, “Burn down your neighbor’s livelihood until you get your way.”
Rioting is not merely a violation of the Fifth and Seventh Commandments on an individual scale. It is a collective assault on order itself. Luther was right to describe rebellion as a fire, once lit, it consumes far more than its original grievance.
The most dangerous sin Luther names is the third: cloaking rebellion in the Gospel.
This is the sin of our moment.
We are told that rioting is “loving our neighbor.”
That resisting law enforcement is “standing with the vulnerable.”
That honoring those who break the law is a Christian duty.
This is a lie.
Love does not redefine sin. Love does not excuse lawlessness. Love does not demand that justice be suspended in the name of compassion. To tell someone that ongoing criminal behavior is righteous, or even morally neutral, is not love. It is cruelty disguised as mercy.
If someone is in the country illegally, that is a violation of the law. Christians do not help their neighbor by denying reality. Repentance means turning away from sin, not celebrating it. The Church’s task is not to baptize chaos with religious language, but to speak truthfully, even when the truth is unpopular.
Storming worship services, threatening congregations, and terrorizing the faithful in the name of “justice” is not prophetic witness. It is blasphemy.
Christians are not powerless. Peaceful assembly is lawful. Legal reform is possible. Elections exist. Appeals can be made. Disagreements over policy and enforcement are legitimate.
But there are actions that are never permissible. And there are sins that must be named.
The Church must say clearly and without apology:
Rebellion against lawful authority is sin.
Rioting and destruction are sins.
Calling lawlessness “love” is sin.
When pastors celebrate these things, they are not shepherding Christ’s sheep. They are scattering them. Christ’s warning about millstones is not a rhetorical flourish. It is judgment.
This crisis has exposed a widening fracture within American Christianity, including within my own denomination, the LCMS. Claims of unity ring hollow when open lawlessness is defended from the pulpit. Fellowship is not preserved by silence. It is preserved by truth.
Repentance is still possible. But repentance requires honesty.
Those who cheer rebellion now may find it thrilling, even righteous. But Christ’s judgment is not mocked. The same Lord who welcomed sinners also warned of terrifying consequences for those who lead His little ones astray.
May God grant repentance.
May He restore order.
And may He keep His Church faithful,
even when the streets burn.
Excellent article on the turmoil we're seeing in the world today and what should be our Christian response.
I am writing this in response to this widely circulated Substack post that uses Scripture to interpret recent events in Minnesota. I am responding not because I enjoy public disagreement, but because the framing being offered is shaping how Christians understand authority, protest, and the use of force. When Scripture is invoked to shut down moral questions rather than illuminate them, it deserves careful and public examination. What follows is an attempt to speak plainly, biblically, and honestly about where I believe that framing goes wrong and why it matters for Christian discipleship.
During seminary, I heard a quote by St. Augustine that stuck with me:
"Justice being taken away, what are kingdoms but great robberies?" - St. Augustine, City of God
Over the past several weeks, I have been writing a multi-part series on Medium titled Following Christ When Scripture and Power Collide. The series grew out of a concern I share with many other Christians: the way Scripture is increasingly used to excuse cruelty, silence moral questions, and defend the use of state power without restraint.
The articles are not about partisan politics. They are about discipleship. They ask a simple question that is becoming harder for some Christians to answer honestly. What does it actually mean to follow Jesus when law, order, and human dignity come into conflict?
This post is a response to a pastoral statement about recent events in Minnesota. I am not responding to attack a person or a denomination. I am Lutheran, WELS, in case anyone is curious. I am responding to a pattern of reasoning that misuses Scripture, collapses important distinctions, and confuses obedience with moral silence.
For readers who want the fuller theological groundwork behind what follows, earlier parts of the series are linked where relevant.
One of the core problems with the argument being made is that it collapses several very different things together and treats them as if they are the same. Protest is treated as rebellion. Observation is treated as interference. Questioning the use of force is treated as lawlessness. Rioting is treated as the inevitable fruit of dissent.
Scripture does not make those moves.
Questioning the use of force, demanding accountability, and exercising constitutional rights are not rebellion. They are not riots. They are not lawlessness dressed up as love. They are part of living in a society that recognizes limits on power.
In Part 1 of my series, I argued that following Christ sometimes means refusing to bless authority when it contradicts the life and teaching of Jesus. That is not about disliking a policy. It is about refusing to confuse power with righteousness.
https://medium.com/@hexbus/following-christ-when-scripture-and-power-collide-f945e823eb0b
Romans 13 is repeatedly invoked as if it settles the matter. It does not.
Scripture calls Christians to respect governing authorities, but it does not declare every action taken by those authorities righteous by default. Authority in Scripture is always accountable to God’s standards. Justice, mercy, restraint, and the protection of the vulnerable are not optional additions. They are core biblical concerns.
In Part 2, I addressed this directly. Order without restraint is not biblical order. Power without accountability is not righteousness. Scripture never teaches that Christians must suspend moral judgment whenever the state acts.
https://medium.com/@hexbus/following-christ-when-scripture-and-power-collide-d68fe0f8e4e6
Throughout Scripture, the prophets confronted kings. Jesus confronted religious and political power. The apostles accepted punishment without endorsing injustice. Respect for authority is not the same thing as declaring authority morally infallible.
Another major failure in the argument is the move from saying riots have occurred to claiming that anyone questioning enforcement is endorsing riots. That is simply not true.
Many Christians condemn destruction and violence while also questioning whether lethal force was justified and whether due process was respected. Those positions do not contradict each other.
In Part 3, I drew a clear line between violence that harms neighbors and dissent that challenges power. Scripture condemns the first. It does not forbid the second.
https://medium.com/@hexbus/following-christ-when-scripture-and-power-collide-4b03257a84aa
Calling peaceful protest or observation rebellion shuts down moral reasoning rather than engaging it.
Saying the law was being enforced does not answer whether force was proportional, whether escalation was avoidable, or whether rights were respected. Lawful authority still has limits.
Romans 13 speaks of the sword being used to punish wrongdoing. It does not say the sword may be used recklessly. It does not say the sword may be used without restraint. It does not say the sword may be used first and explained later.
In Part 4, I warned against baptizing harm with religious language. Scripture consistently condemns the use of God’s name to excuse injustice. That is what the prophets were sent to confront.
https://medium.com/@hexbus/following-christ-when-scripture-and-power-collide-e7923d78ddf8
The most troubling move in the argument is the way moral concern is reframed as rebellion and compassion is treated as deception. That move does not protect the Gospel. It empties it.
Scripture does not teach that civil authority defines justice. God does. God commands justice, mercy, and humility. Following Christ means holding power accountable to those standards, not sanctifying every use of force because it comes from the state.
Christians are called to honor lawful authority when it acts justly. Christians are also commanded to defend the vulnerable and speak truth when authority causes harm. Silence in the face of injustice is not obedience. It is abdication.
This is not about blessing chaos or denying the rule of law. It is about refusing to excuse death, escalation, and rights violations by calling them order.
When Scripture is used to shut down questions about restraint, due process, and the sanctity of life, it is not being defended. It is being misapplied.
This moment should grieve us. But grief does not suspend moral responsibility.
Christians are not asked to choose between order and faithfulness. We are asked to follow Christ. Christ does not bless cruelty, excuse violence, or demand that we look away when power wounds instead of heals.
The question before us is not whether authority exists. It is whether we will apply God’s standards consistently, even when doing so is uncomfortable. That is the work of discipleship.
I am still working on Part 5. It should be published soon.