10/12/2026
I just don’t know anymore. I just don’t understand.
Every week events take place in our midst that instill fear, anxiety, and confusion in all of us. Every week.
Just last week we saw multiple rounds fired into a car by ICE agents making an arrest. Inside was a five-year old boy who will now be scarred for a lifetime. Something just isn’t right with this image. Isn’t there another way?
I just don’t know anymore. I just don’t understand.
Just last week it was announced that an ex*****on by firing squad would be televised. This is to be the first U.S. military ex*****on by firing squad in 81 years. The idea of this being televised and potentially being witnessed by children and youth turns my stomach. Something just isn’t right with this image. Isn’t there another way?
I just don’t know anymore. I just don’t understand.
It seems that in the midst of these daily, deliberate acts of instilling fear and anxiety around us we have lost our balance, our perspective, and our moral compass. The pervasive attitude is “us verse them” — an adver-sarial posture that pits us against one another, often over something as simple as a difference of opinion or perspective. It’s a my-way-or-the-highway existence and the road we’re traveling has plenty of potholes and no rest areas. And no one is finding the exit.
Throughout all the years of my ministry I have held to the belief that the theology we embrace is good and powerful enough to bring change to a broken and mis-guided world. Recently, I have commented to my staff that perhaps the reverse is true these days: Has the world and its ways grown powerful enough to cause change even within the church and its people? I say that because I’ve noticed lately that fingers are being pointed, accusations are being made, disagreements are growing, and all is not well within the body of Christ. We have grown skeptical, distrusting, and afraid. And it shows.
On Sunday, I had the privilege of listening to Rev. Dr. Javier Viera, the president of Garrett Evangelical Seminary, preach during the morning service at Duke University Chapel. In his sermon, Javier made an interesting observation that may explain why we appear to be more of the world than of God.
He said (paraphrasing) that the God we imagine defines how we see the people around us. The way we imagine God determines how we treat the immigrant, the poor, and the marginalized. How we see God treating us is, in turn, the standard we use when we approach the stranger, the enemy, even the criminal.
The illustration he used was of Moses going up the mountain to see God and the people’s quick response of making false gods to worship. In that moment, the chosen people of God lost sight of God, the one who cared enough to deliver them from captivity, and replaced that God with an image made of gold. A choice that spoke of their own limited vision rather than to the reality of God whose vision was of a promised land of milk and honey.
As I sat in chapel that morning, I began to wonder: What is the image of God we have in our hearts and minds? If the world has more of an impact on the church than the church has on the world, that image can easily be one of power, control, self-centeredness and violence. That image can easily fill us with thoughts of judgement, retribution, skepticism, and fear. And if that image of God gains control of our thinking we begin to live that out in the way we treat others.
But Dr. Viera reminded us that when you open the scriptures and search for the God portrayed in those books, deep within those verses, there is a picture that emerges:
The Lord is my Shepherd.
One who cares for the one as much or more than the 99.
He leads me beside the still waters.
One who calms the storms with a presence that brings peace, not turmoil.
He restores my soul.
One who understands the struggles of life and provides the need for renewal.
Even though I am in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.
One who calms the anxiety and offers an alternative path.
A table is presented to me where I sit with my enemies.
One who reminds us always that there is a better way than firing gunshots into a car holding a five-year-old or publicly executing someone.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.
Goodness, not hatred. Mercy, not judgement. Not temporarily, but forever.
This is our God whose image needs to be in mind every day when we listen to the morning news or respond to the latest challenge we face.
Every week there are events that take place in our midst that instill fear, anxiety, and confusion in all of us. Every week. And, as a result, I scratch my head in disbelief. I don’t know any more. I just don’t understand.
But every week, every day, every hour, every second, you and I can place an image in our minds, one that when it is deeply implanted in our hearts can direct our path:
The Lord is my Shepherd.
This I know.
This I understand.
I hope you do too.
Bishop Thomas J. Bickerton
Resident Bishop
