Month: May 2026

The Messiah Misunderstood: From Ancient Expectations to Modern Distortions

by Christopher Schouten

Throughout history, there has been a recurring tension between the Jesus of the Gospels and the “Messiah” people want him to be. This disconnect wasn’t just a problem in first – century Judea – it is a central struggle in modern American faith today.

The Ancient Expectation: A Lion of Judah

In biblical times, the Jewish people lived under the crushing weight of Roman occupation. Naturally, their expectations for a Messiah were shaped by their immediate suffering. They looked for:

  • A Military Conqueror: A second King David who would lead a violent revolt to overthrow Caesar.
  • Nationalistic Superiority: A leader who would restore Israel to geopolitical dominance and judge the surrounding nations.
  • Political Power: A king who would sit on a literal throne and enforce Jewish law through state power.

The Jesus we know delivered on none of those expectations.

The Reality: The Suffering Servant

Instead of a general on a white horse, they got a carpenter on a donkey. Jesus did not come to replace one earthly empire with another; he came to subvert the very concept of “empire.”

  • Power in Weakness: He chose a cross over a sword.
  • Inclusivity: He ate with the “unclean,” the tax collectors, and the enemies of the state.
  • The Upside – Down Kingdom: He taught that the last shall be first and that true greatness is found in service, not domination.

The Modern Distortion: Christian Nationalism

In modern America, we see a striking parallel to those ancient, erroneous expectations. The rise of Christian Nationalism has essentially “repainted” Jesus to fit a narrative of power, exclusivity, and domination.

The “Americanized” Jesus

This movement has traded the humble Galilean for a figure who mirrors the very Roman authorities Jesus resisted. This distorted version of Christ is used to justify:

  • The Lust for Power: The belief that Christians are entitled to control the mechanisms of the state to enforce their worldview.
  • Exclusivity: Moving away from “love your neighbor” toward a “us vs. them” mentality that marginalizes immigrants, the LGBTQ+ community, and those of other faiths.
  • Domination: Using the Gospel as a tool for cultural supremacy rather than a message of liberation for the oppressed.

By wrapping the cross in the flag, this movement attempts to turn a global message of radical love into a narrow tool for nationalistic control.

Reclaiming the Prophetic Voice

As progressive Christians, our task is not just to point out these distortions, but to actively reclaim the identity of Jesus in the public square. Here is how we can begin to shift the narrative:

1. Centering the Marginalized

Jesus consistently moved toward the edges of society. To reclaim his message, we must ensure our theology and our activism center the voices of those whom the “Empire” seeks to silence.

2. Embracing Radical Non – Violence

In a culture obsessed with “might makes right,” we must proclaim the power of sacrificial love. This means standing against policies of dehumanization and violence, even when it is politically unpopular.

3. Using Our Prophetic Voices

The prophets of the Bible didn’t just comfort the grieving; they “afflicted the comfortable.” Using our prophetic voices means speaking truth to power in the public square – whether through protest, policy advocacy, or community organizing.

4. Redefining “Kingdom” as “Kindom”

We must remind the world that the Kingdom of God is not a territory to be conquered, but a way of treating others characterized by justice, mercy, and humility. Jesus came not to dominate and rule in the traditional sense, but to create a “Kindom” where all people matter and their fundamental dignity as beloved children of God is recognized by all.

The Jesus of history was a threat to the status quo because he refused to play the game of domination. By returning to that radical, inclusive roots, we can offer a weary world a glimpse of the true Christ – the one who heals rather than hurts, and who invites all to the table instead of excluding and demonizing those who are marginalized.

Rethinking Church: What Intentional Communities Can Teach Us

by Rev. Bill Utke

About a decade ago, following twenty years of ordained ministry, I was given a rare gift: time. With the support of my congregation and a grant from the Lilly Foundation’s Clergy Renewal Program, I entered a three-month sabbatical season of rest, reflection, and renewal.

As part of that journey, I spent three weeks living at La’akea, an intentional community on the Big Island of Hawai‘i. Although the course I had planned to attend was canceled just before I arrived, the community still welcomed me as a guest. I lived alongside full members, trial members, and work traders, sharing in the rhythms of their daily life.

What I encountered did not look like church.

And yet, it revealed something essential about what church has been—and what we might aspire to become in today’s world.

Let me be clear: I am not suggesting that congregations adopt every aspect of life at La’akea. The community differs from most churches in significant ways—there is no shared theology, no formal leadership structure, and it embraces lifestyles many congregations would find outside their tradition.

And yet, beneath those differences are practices that echo something deeply biblical: shared life, mutual care, honest speech, and communal discernment. In that sense, La’akea did not challenge my understanding of church as much as it brought me back to the church’s roots.

Shared Values as Covenant

At La’akea, community is grounded in a clearly articulated set of shared values. These are not abstract ideals but lived commitments that guide decisions, relationships, and responsibilities. Everyone who joins the community agrees to uphold them.

This functions much like covenant. It recalls the early church in Acts, where believers ordered their lives around shared commitments, not simply shared beliefs.

Churches often assume belief is enough to hold us together. But belief does not always translate into shared life. What if we were more explicit—not only about what we believe, but how we live together?

Discernment Over Decision-Making

Perhaps the most transformative practice I encountered was consensus decision-making.

Rather than relying on majority vote, La’akea practices communal discernment. A proposal is offered, discussed, and refined by the group. Disagreement is not seen as obstruction, but as engagement.

When it is time to decide, each person responds in one of three ways: agree, step aside, or block. A “block” is rare and signals a serious concern that the proposal violates the community’s core values.  On member said, “one only uses a ‘block’ when they are ready to leave the community over the difference of opinion.”

This process echoes Acts 15, where the early church gathers, listens, debates, and ultimately declares what “seems good to the Holy Spirit and to us.”

Consensus takes time. But it also builds trust, deepens commitment, and often leads to stronger outcomes. The decision belongs to the whole community—not just the majority.

Practices That Form Community

What struck me most was that community at La’akea was not left to chance. It was practiced.

Each morning began with a conch shell calling the community together. At breakfast, each person briefly checked in—sharing how they were doing physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

It was simple, but powerful. A daily practice of presence.

Evenings brought shared meals, prepared collaboratively, beginning with a moment of silence, breath, or gratitude. Weekly gatherings called “HeartShare” created space for deeper listening. One person could speak openly while others listened and, with permission, asked questions—without judgment or the need to fix.

These rhythms felt deeply familiar. They echoed the practices of the early church: breaking bread, sharing life, bearing one another’s burdens.

Churches often rely on programs to build community. But programs alone cannot sustain it. Community is formed through repeated practices of presence, listening, and care.

A Culture of Mutual Responsibility

At La’akea, everyone contributed to the life of the community—cooking, cleaning, tending the land. Care was also shared. When someone had a need, they named it, and others responded.

Needs were not hidden. They were spoken.

This reflects the vision of the Body of Christ in 1 Corinthians: if one member suffers, all suffer together. Community depends on both honesty and responsiveness.

Leadership was shared as well. Roles rotated. People were encouraged to step into leadership and grow through experience.

The church speaks of “equipping the saints,” but too often leadership remains concentrated in a few. What if leadership development were better woven into the fabric of congregational life?

Space as Sacred Commons

One of the more eye-opening insights for me was the community’s understanding of space.

The Main House at La’akea—its central gathering place—was held in common. No one could claim it. It belonged to everyone.

In churches, buildings, or certain spaces, can gradually become associated with particular groups or individuals. While understandable, this can create barriers.

What if we reclaimed our buildings as sacred commons—not just for members, but for the wider community? Not as something to protect, but as something to offer?

What Might Church Become?

La’akea does not look like church.

But it embodies something the church has always been called to be: a people shaped not only by belief, but by shared life. A people who listen deeply, speak honestly, care for one another, and trust that wisdom can emerge from the whole.

The invitation is not to abandon our traditions, but to rediscover their heart.

Perhaps the future of the church is not something entirely new, but something deeply ancient: a community where discernment matters more than winning, where leadership is shared and nurtured, where needs are spoken and met with compassion, and where daily life itself becomes a kind of liturgy.

The question is not whether such a church is possible.

The question is whether we are willing to practice our way into it.

Since September 2021, Rev. Bill Utke has been senior pastor of Desert Garden UCC, Sun City West, AZ. Beginning in 1993 he has served churches in Southern Illinois, Michigan and Wisconsin.