August 23, 2026

Exodus 1:8 – 2:10
Romans 12:1-8

“Faithful Resistance”

I’ve found it quite interesting to reflect on the stories from the Book of Genesis this summer. We’ve read about Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar; and about Isaac and Ishmael. We have followed Isaac’s line, meeting Rebecca and their children Jacob and Esau. Jacob married Leah and worked for many years to marry Rachel as well. Altogether, they had 12 sons, including Joseph who was Abraham’s favourite, but hated by his brothers.

Last Sunday, we heard the story in which Joseph, now in a powerful position in Egypt, receives his family during a terrible famine and helps them, leading to the whole family’s move to Egypt.

As the Book of Exodus begins, the deaths of Joseph and his brothers are noted, but of course their descendants continue to live among the Egyptians. Verse 7 describes their presence this way: “The Israelites were fruitful and prolific; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them.”

So when a new king rises over Egypt who has no memory of Joseph or respect for him and his family, the situation of the Israelites begins to change. Over the course of likely 3 or 4 hundred years, the Israelites in Egypt go from neighbours to slaves as they are subjected to oppression and hard labour.

By the end of this morning’s reading, we are introduced to the child Moses, who we already know will be the one to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, through the wilderness, and into the promised land. But for now, the people of God are experiencing terrible suffering, and some of them are being ordered to cooperate with the evil that is being done to their community.

Infanticide was not uncommon in ancient societies. Most often it was the baby girls or infants that had deformities who were killed. Sometimes babies were killed in ritual sacrifices as well, and it was not unheard of for baby boys to be killed if they were heirs to a throne and someone with power wanted that throne for himself.

But this order to the Hebrew midwives to kill all the baby boys right after they are born must still have been quite shocking. What would they do? Slit their throats? Suffocate them? Drop them on their heads and pretend it was an accident?

“Of course the midwives refused to do it,” we might tell ourselves. “How could anyone possibly do such a horrific thing? Of course they lied to the king of Egypt, telling him that the mothers gave birth too quickly and the babies were born before the midwives even arrived.”

But the reality is that people throughout history have cooperated with similarly evil orders when powerful people enjoined them to do so. For example, across Europe, many governments and citizens cooperated with the Nazi occupation rather than resisting it. This included political appeasement, administrative cooperation, and participation in persecution.

Vichy France deported 76,000 Jews to Nazi camps, actively assisting German authorities. Belgian, Danish, Dutch, Norwegian, Hungarian, Yugoslav, and Greek governments signed alliances or cooperated with Nazi demands, sometimes out of ideology, sometimes out of fear. These were not fringe actors — they were ordinary citizens, police, bureaucrats, and leaders who chose cooperation.

I am reminded of the well-known poem “First they came…” by Martin Niemöller, a German Lutheran pastor and theologian who wrote it after World War II as a confession of his own silence during the rise of Nazism.

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist

Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist

Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist

Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me

Niemöller recognized that his silence, as much as more active participation, was cooperation with the injustice and evil of the Nazi regime. If he had spoken up, he likely would have been killed as well, and yet he regretted the decision to do nothing. I imagine that he felt shame because he couldn’t find the courage to stand up for what was right, as the Hebrew midwives did.

When we remember the story of Shiphrah and Puah, and we read that they “feared God; [and] they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live,” we must consider how our faith, how our love and fear of God guides us to speak and to act for justice and righteousness, even when our words or actions may put us at risk.

Being a Christian doesn’t mean “going along to get along,” keeping to ourselves and not causing any trouble. Just think of the many times that Jesus challenged the authorities, the times that he broke the rules in order to do what was right, and the personal risks that he took in order to heal, and help, and demonstrate love and care for the marginalized and oppressed people.

The Apostle Paul suggests to the Roman Christians that their faith calls them to self-giving, risk-taking practices of love. He invites them to “present [their] bodies as a living sacrifice” and he calls them not be conformed to this age, but to be transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that they may discern what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect.

In our time, one of the most troubling movements in North America and other parts of the world is the rise of Christian Nationalism. Let me be clear: Christian Nationalism is not Christianity.

Christian nationalism is an ideology that seeks to establish Christian cultural and political domination within a nation, claiming that a particular nation was founded as Christian and must remain so. Such claims conflate religious and national identity and devalue all those outside what it labels “Christian” — and yet it often fails to exhibit core Christian teachings such as love of God and neighbour or Jesus’ teachings in the beatitudes.

Christian nationalism routinely demonstrates a rejection of the Scriptural call to care for the stranger, the foreigner and vulnerable people such as refugees. Too often, its love of power leads it to seek power over other nations and people as well, wedding Christianity with war or with imperial ambitions. Its pursuit of cultural and political domination distorts the gospel and embodies teachings that do not reflect the love God shown to the world nor the ministry to which disciples of Christ are called.

The mass deportations happening in the United States, carried out without due process or any concern for the human rights or dignity of the people involved, is one of the impacts of Christian Nationalism. And if you speak to American citizens, you’ll find all kinds of responses to what is happening – those who approve of what ICE is doing, getting rid of the illegals and protecting the country for its citizens; those who are remaining silent because what’s happening doesn’t affect them; and then there are the people who are protesting, the people who are protecting, and the people who are providing sanctuary. Many of them are people of faith who are putting their faith into action, sometimes at great risk to themselves.

As Presbyterians, we probably don’t think of ourselves as a particularly political church. Although we have opinions about what is happening in our society and the wider world, we may think of voting as our main way of influencing the political environment.

But the Apostle Paul reminds us that we should not allow ourselves to be conformed to the world, but to let God transform us by the renewing of our minds, discerning what is the good, acceptable, and perfect will of God.

And then, he goes on to talk about how we are gifted with all kinds of gifts and abilities that we are to use for God’s good purposes in the world. In this particular list, he mentions prophecy, ministry, teaching, encouraging, giving, leading, and showing compassion. I don’t think that he imagines all those gifts simply being used within the confines of the Christian community, but they are gifts we are called to use for the good of the world that God loves.

Like the prophets of old, we are called to speak the truth to power and to call our societies to the values of justice, kindness, mercy, and compassion that God desires for all human communities. One of the ways we are doing this right now is through a church statement on Christian Nationalism which has been prepared for study and report across the Presbyterian Church so that it can be adopted and shared widely by the General Assembly next year.

The 2026 General Assembly adopted a recommendation: That, in order to support the study and rejection of Christian nationalism, sessions, presbyteries, and other courts of the church be encouraged to learn more about how Christian nationalism is counter to the gospel and to the life and teachings of Jesus Christ.

We’ll look at the statement carefully at Session and likely Synod, but I’ve printed some copies, and I’ll provide a link with my sermon to where you can read it online, whether or not you’re a member of one of those governing bodies: presbyterian.ca/about/life-mission-agency/christian-nationalism/

Teaching is also vitally important – not only learning the content of the Bible that we hold dear, but also learning to interpret it, and apply it, and discerning how to speak and act in the world in ways that embody the good, acceptable, and perfect will of our loving God. I think it’s important that we keep this in mind in every Bible study and discussion group we do together, as well as in every sermon that is preached from this pulpit.

And here’s a simple one: How about doing some encouraging? We can always encourage one another within the congregation. But how about encouraging other Christians who are living out their faith in bold, courageous, risky ways for the good of their neighbours?

The 2026 General Assembly of our Presbyterian Church approved this recommendation from the International Affairs Committee: That members of the church be encouraged to pray for the safety of all who protest injustices, and that they write letters of pastoral support to sibling denominations in the United States, expressing concern for their well-being, and assuring them of our ongoing prayers.

It wouldn’t be difficult for our Session to write such a letter to a Presbyterian congregation in Minneapolis, or to the Presbytery of the Twin Cities Area, or to another community where Christian people and leaders have been standing up and speaking out for justice and the protection of vulnerable people.

Following the example of Shiphrah and Puah, many people today are exercising faithful resistance against the unjust powers of our time. I’m thinking of protesters in the U.S. who refuse to ignore the deportations of their neighbours. But I’m also remembering international volunteers who are spending time in Palestine and Israel in the World Council of Churches’ Ecumenical Accompaniment Programme. They accompany local people and communities, offering a protective presence, and witnessing their daily struggles and hopes as they live under occupation.

And I’m thinking of Filipino nuns who continue to step into dangerous spaces as “moral shields,” especially in communities facing militarization, land seizures, or political violence. Religious sisters accompany Indigenous leaders during confrontations with mining companies, they stand beside families targeted by extrajudicial killings, and they join front‑line human rights vigils where their presence makes soldiers or police think twice.

I wonder what our faithful resistance is going to look like today or tomorrow. Can we use our voices, our bodies, our gifts, and most of all our faith and our belief in the love, mercy, and justice of God to make a difference in the world? I hope so.