“They may call you Doctor or they may call you Chief
But you’re gonna have to serve somebody …”
Bob Dylan said it as well as anybody, painting a lyrical picture of Jesus’ caution against trying to serve two masters. While Jesus gave as options “God and money” (Matthew 6:24), Dylan puts a finer point on the choice: the devil or the Lord.
The choice between the two is more of a tightrope walk than we often realize, the lean away from God profoundly subtle. Especially when the lean is wrapped in Christian language.
The attention given to Trump at First Baptist Church in Dallas Sunday morning, Dec. 19, begs just this question: “Which master is being served?”
I do not understand the thinking behind inviting, accepting or allowing Donald Trump to speak from the pulpit during a Sunday morning worship service. For all the people who would not be given that space at that time—their sins being given as prohibitive reasons—it’s hard to understand Robert Jeffress doing so. It’s enough to raise the question of servitude.
The center of the service
The timing of Trump’s appearance at First Baptist Dallas is problematic all by itself. The service was described as “this special Christmas Sunday.” That being the case, no political candidate (And who thinks Trump is not a political candidate?) should be given top billing in a Christian church’s Sunday morning worship service at any time of the year, certainly not during a service purportedly focused on the birth of Christ.
Beyond the timing, the tone of the service was set before it even started. We could go back to the announcement that Trump would speak at the service, but we don’t have to go back that far. In the fashion all U.S. presidents are introduced, the service was preceded by heralding Trump.
Next, the opening song, “O Come, Let Us Adore Him,” declares Christ as Lord in each chorus, but it immediately followed Trump’s heralded entrance beside Jeffress. We all know Trump has been compared to the Messiah. He himself stated while looking heavenward that he is “the chosen one.”
Speaking of the Messiah, the third song was, in fact, “The Hallelujah Chorus” from Handel’s Messiah.
During the welcome that followed, Jeffress appealed to his audience to “tell your friends and family members around the country that I’ll be on Fox News three times later this week.”
True, he also said his appearances will be to “share the true meaning of Christmas.” Even so, interrupting a service to remind a global audience—which Jeffress later numbered in “the hundreds of thousands” and “the millions”—of his friendship with Fox cuts across the purpose of the service—to worship God.
During the same welcome, Jeffress acknowledged his special guest—Donald Trump—saying Trump would speak at the end of the service. He went so far as to say, “He’s going to be the climax of the conclusion of the service,” meaning Trump’s words were to be part of a worship service.
Still later, during the introduction of his sermon, Jeffress again brought attention to Trump. Later in the sermon, as he described Caesar Augustus, Jeffress noted only one person in his audience knew how it feels to be the most powerful man in the world. Jeffress referenced and addressed Trump throughout the sermon.
This carefully crafted service placed Trump at the beginning, middle and end. Ironically, the service was intended to hail the birth of the only One who is to occupy the beginning, middle and end. His name is Jesus.
What our friends suggest
Jeffress was intent on drawing a very close connection between himself and Trump.
“He has certainly been a great friend to me. I’ve known him now for about seven years, and I count him as one of my closest friends,” Jeffress said.
“He’s not only a great friend of mine, but he is a great friend of this church, and he is a great friend of Christians everywhere. He is,” Jeffress continued.
All of that may be true. I have no way to contest Jeffress and Trump’s friendship. I can say we are known by our friendships. The people we call “friends” say a great deal about us, and those we call “great friends,” even “one of my closest friends,” says even more about us. Our friendships can suggest which master we serve.
More important to Jeffress, however, seems to be what followed. With ascending passion, he declared, “I can say this without any dispute at all: He is the most pro-life, pro-religious liberty, pro-Israel president in the history of the United States of America.”
As a close friend of the former president, those three “pros” seem to outweigh a well-known list of significant “cons” before and throughout Trump’s presidency—including what Trump said stars like him are allowed to do to women; his mocking a disabled reporter; his litany of racist remarks; and his propensity to insult, well, anyone; among others.
This is the kind of person Jeffress calls “one of my closest friends.”
Trying to mix two masters
Jeffress preached for 25 minutes, issued the standard gospel invitation, prayed and introduced Trump, inviting him to share “whatever is on your heart” as a return favor to Trump. Jeffress then invited Trump to the pulpit to greater applause than any mention of Jesus received. Upon reaching the pulpit, Trump received an “I love you” and a hug from Jeffress.
Trump spoke for about 11 minutes—almost half the length of Jeffress’ sermon. It was a patently political message—a typical-though-tame Trump-stump speech, regardless of Jeffress’ protesting otherwise. Trump’s asserting, “Make America great again,” and “America first” can’t be taken any other way.
Trump, known for his inaccuracies, did speak the truth when he said he isn’t our savior. Saying our country needs a savior, he noted: “And that’s not me. That’s somebody much higher up than me, much higher up.”
But then he mixed the admonition, “We have to remember that Jesus Christ is the ultimate source of our strength and of our hope, and here and everywhere and for all time, Jesus Christ” with, “We want to just thank everybody who believes, because we’re believing in our country, we’re believing in the world, we’re believing in life.”
Nope. There’s no mixture. We can’t serve two masters.
Trump and Jeffress walked off the platform together, lauded with chants of, “USA! USA!” followed by a rousing “thank you” from First Baptist Dallas Executive Pastor Ben Lovvorn.
So much for Jesus. The tightrope walk of a Christmas service couldn’t help but look down.
Disclaimer: Lovvorn, gleeful over Trump’s presence, was sure to recite with a straight face, “It is our longstanding policy as a church that we do not endorse or oppose any political candidate for public office or otherwise intervene or engage in any political campaign.” He and the audience got a laugh out of that as he announced the service’s conclusion.
The service concluded with a reprise of “O Come, Let Us Adore Him.”
The truth about us
I’d like to say I don’t have the same struggle. I’d like to say I walk the tightrope of allegiance to God without the slightest wobble, but it’s simply not true. The pull away from God is just too subtle for all of us, as the Bible and all of human history consistently evince.
A Christmas service at First Baptist Dallas is not the only time or place the struggle for allegiance to one rightful master occurs. It just happens to be one well-publicized example.
All of us struggle to walk the tightrope, that narrow path of faithfulness to God. We each must remember it’s not a choice of which side to fall on; it’s a choice between staying up or falling below.
The competing master is below, wooing us in infinite and subtle ways. If we will just switch allegiance, we won’t have to walk the tightrope anymore. It’s so tempting to look down.
Eric Black is the executive director, publisher and editor of the Baptist Standard. He can be reached at eric.black@baptiststandard.com or on Twitter at @EricBlackBSP.







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