They Preach in His Name, But Don't Live in His Light
Preached at Blue Ocean Faith Columbus on August 17, 2025
A sermon on Numbers 11:24-30.
Note - Remember, the video and the text may differ a bit. I rarely stick 100% to my written material when I preach.
Friends, tonight we gather in a time that tests our faith, challenges our convictions, and calls us to remember who we are and whose we are. We live in days when truth is negotiable, when facts mean little if they don’t serve the powerful, when the wealthy close ranks against the vulnerable, and when the very foundations of democratic discourse are crumbling beneath our feet.
We also gather around a text that is both ancient and unsettlingly modern. A text that speaks of leadership, exhaustion, the movement of the Spirit, and the way God calls prophets where the world least expects them.
Recently, Rachel Maddow stated starkly, “Life has not stopped and none of our personal lives have stopped. But also at the same time, life in the United States is profoundly changing, is profoundly different than it was even six months ago because we do now live in a country that has an authoritarian leader in charge. We have a consolidating dictatorship in our country.” The signs are all around us: the poison of nationalism leaching into democracy, fear turned into policy, the silencing of dissent, the targeting of the poor and marginalized as scapegoats for deeper problems, the construction of concentration camps, the use of the National Guard and active duty Marines against protesters, and just this week the takeover of Washington, DC, by the Trump administration.
It is in this moment that God’s Word comes to us. A reminder that God’s Spirit cannot be contained. A reminder that prophecy does not belong only to the powerful or to the appointed. A reminder that if Jesus walked these streets, he would not be welcomed by the halls of power, he would be found among the poor, the outcast, the rejected.
Listen for a word from God in Numbers 11:24-30.
So, Moses went out and told the people the words of the Lord, and he gathered seventy of the elders of the people and placed them all around the tent. Then the Lord came down in the cloud and spoke to him and took some of the spirit that was on him and put it on the seventy elders, and when the spirit rested upon them, they prophesied. But they did not do so again. Two men remained in the camp, one named Eldad and the other named Medad, and the spirit rested on them; they were among those registered, but they had not gone out to the tent, and so they prophesied in the camp. And a young man ran and told Moses, “Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp.” And Joshua, son of Nun, the assistant of Moses, one of his chosen men, said, “My lord Moses, stop them!” But Moses said to him, “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all God’s people were prophets and that God would put God’s spirit on them!” And Moses and the elders of Israel returned to the camp.
This is the word of God for the people of God.
If you’ve only ever thought of Moses as a biblical superhero, I challenge you to look at his humanity. Moses is a scholar and natural leader who benefited from being raised in the royal court. Despite his protests to God that he’s not a speaker or preacher, he does a decent job addressing the diverse group of Hebrews he’s leading. He’s also highly neurotic with a bad temper which gets the better of him more than a few times. Remember, it’s Moses who smashes the first set of tablets of the covenant in Exodus 32 which were said to be the work of God themselves.
In our scripture tonight we meet Moses when he’s exhausted by his role as the nation’s leader. He’s been carrying the weight of an entire people’s complaints, their hunger, their thirst, their endless dissatisfaction. He cries out to God, essentially saying, “I can’t do this alone anymore. Either kill me or help me.”
And God’s response? God doesn’t say, “Buck up, Moses. Leadership is lonely.” God doesn’t suggest that Moses needs to be tougher, more authoritarian, or more controlling. Instead, God does something radical: God redistributes the spirit. God democratizes prophecy.
At God’s command, Moses calls together seventy elders at a special tent of meeting away from the main camp. These elders are literally set apart and called as a type of clergy and leaders. The text tells us that these elders received the spirit and prophesied around the tent. But then we’re told that two of the summoned elders hadn’t come to the tent of meeting. These two, Eldad and Medad, were back in the camp, among the people, and the spirit came upon them too. They started prophesying where they were, not where they were supposed to be. We don’t know why they didn’t go to the tent of meeting, but they hadn’t been at the outpouring of the spirit, at the ordination of the elders. But still, they preach and prophesy in the camp.
When he learns what’s happening, Joshua, Moses’ assistant and eventual successor, is deeply troubled. Not only do Eldad and Medad not have permission to preach, they didn’t even bother to show up to the tent of meeting. Joshua and the other elders don’t even know what Eldad and Medad are preaching.
And Moses? Moses isn’t concerned about what these men are preaching. He isn’t concerned if they’re preaching the approved message or if they’re doing it with the right authority. No, Moses looks right at Joshua and says: “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all God’s people were prophets! And God had put God’s spirit upon them!”
Would that all God’s people were prophets!
Turn to someone and say, “The Spirit will not be contained.”
Friends, hear the good news: the Spirit will not be contained.
The Spirit will not stay locked in the tent, or in the church building, or in the hands of the few. The Spirit runs loose in the world, raising up prophets in the camp, in the streets, in the places where power is most afraid of the truth.
And this brings us to a song, “If Christ Walked These Streets” by the band Call Me Christian. It’s been playing on repeat on my playlists for the last month. It asks a haunting question: “If Christ walked these streets, would we let Him inside?”
Listen to the lyrics:
“He walks through the alleys, past neon-lit lies A shadow in darkness, with fire in his eyes The beggar whispers, I know who you are But the crowd keeps moving, lost in their cars. Would they nail Him again? Would they spit in His face? Or drown out His mercy in power and grace? If Christ walked these streets, would we let Him inside? Or turn up the volume, let the truth be denied? Would the world take His hands, or just bind them again? Trading silver for gold, selling love out for sin? He steps in a church, but the doors are shut tight They preach in His name but don’t live in His light The preachers got wealth, but the beggars still weep He flips all their tables, ‘My house ain’t for thieves!’ Would they tear Him apart on their glowing screens? Drown out His words in a world of machines? If Christ walked these streets, would we let Him inside? Or turn up the volume, let the truth be denied? Would the world take His hands, or just bind them again? Trading silver for gold, selling love out for sin? He walks through the sirens, the riots, the war Holds out His hands, but they’re bloodied once more Yet still He is whispering, ‘Come, follow me’ As nails meet the hammer on live TV If Christ walked these streets, would we let Him inside? Or turn up the volume, let the truth be denied? Would the world take His hands, or just bind them again? Trading silver for gold, selling love out for sin? They call Him a rebel, they brand Him insane A radical threat to their power and fame The same old betrayals, the same old charade Would we fight for His love, or just sharpen the blade?”
Friends, if Christ walked these streets of America today, what would he find?
He would see families broken apart at the border, immigrants treated not as neighbors but as problems to be solved.
He would join us in the horror of people disappeared off city streets and from church parking lots.
He would see laws passed that strip away the rights of LGBTQIA+ people, policies built on the fear of difference.
He would see politicians use God’s name to defend greed, to defend racism, and to defend nationalism.
He would see many of those same politicians claim that women shouldn’t have control of their own bodies, be allowed to vote, or be allowed to participate in civic life.
He would see wealth hoarded by the few while the poor are blamed for their own suffering.
He would experience health care and food traded for tax breaks for the wealthiest Americans.
He would see fear weaponized into power.
The answer is clear: if Christ walked these streets, much of America would not welcome him. We would crucify him again. Not on a Roman cross, but through policies that crush the poor, through rhetoric that spits in the face of mercy, through systems that nail the vulnerable to cycles of poverty, oppression, and despair.
Would they nail him again? Yes. And the nails today look like racist policing, anti-immigrant raids, Transphobic laws, voter suppression, and a gospel twisted into Christian nationalism. The nails are fear which trades freedom for the illusion of safety and forces us to close our doors when Christ knocks.
But here’s the thing, church: the Spirit is still moving. The Spirit is still pouring out revolutionary, transformative love. The Spirit is still raising up prophets, not just in pulpits, but in streets, schools, workplaces, shelters, and kitchens. You can see it in the mutual aid networks that spring up after disasters. You can see it in the sanctuary cities that refuse to cooperate with deportation raids. You can see it in the interfaith coalitions standing together against hate. You can see it in the young people who refuse to accept climate catastrophe as inevitable. You can see it in the organizers registering voters despite voter suppression efforts. You can see it in the healthcare workers still showing up, still caring, still healing.
And make no mistake: America has an authoritarian executive and ruling party. As a nation, we’re walking the road of authoritarianism. We see it in leaders who prize loyalty over truth. We see it in media that spreads lies faster than light. We see it in churches that trade the gospel for political power.
Authoritarianism thrives on complicity. It thrives on silence. It thrives when people give up hope. It thrives when the people of God forget their calling.
But Moses said: “Would that all God’s people were prophets.” And that means every one of us is called to speak. To resist. To tell the truth even when lies are easier. To defend the vulnerable even when it’s unpopular. To proclaim Christ even when the world would rather crucify him again.
Say it with me: The Spirit is not contained.
The prophets will not be silenced.
Christ is walking these streets.
Let me be very clear about two points. First, being a prophet doesn’t mean being self-righteous. It doesn’t mean having all the answers. It doesn’t mean being perfect, pure, or above criticism.
Eve was tempted by a talking snake. Adam just did what the pretty woman told him to do. Moses was a murderer who argued with God. Jonah ran away from his prophetic calling. Jeremiah complained constantly about his job. Mary was an unwed teenager. Peter denied Jesus on multiple occasions. Paul put Christians to death before becoming the church’s first theologian.
Turn to someone and say: God uses imperfect people to do perfect work!
When you think, “I’m not qualified to be a prophet,” or “I don’t have the right education or credentials,” remember that Jesus chose fishers and tax collectors, not seminary professors. When you think, “I’m too young” or “I’m too old” or “I’m too broken,” remember that God specializes in using the foolish things of the world to confound the wise.
Second, prophets are not well-loved. Eldad and Medad made people nervous. Jeremiah was thrown in a pit. Daniel was left for dead in the lion’s den. John the Baptist was beheaded. Jesus was crucified.
A prophet closer to our own time, Archbishop Hélder Câmara, observed that, “When I feed the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why they are poor, they call me a communist.”
And today, prophets are ridiculed. Called “bad people.” Called “woke.” Called “unpatriotic.” Called “radical.” Called “dangerous.”
But the danger is not in the prophets. The danger is in complying early. The danger is in silence. The danger is when we let fear win. The danger is when we stop speaking the truth.
Being a prophet means there will be a cost. Some will leave. Some will mock. Some will threaten. But friends, we don’t speak because it’s safe. We speak because it’s true.
So, what does it mean for us to be prophets in the US today?
That’s the question facing us right now. Not theoretically. Not in some future hypothetical scenario. Right now. Because Christ is walking these streets.
Being prophets in the United States today means telling the truth about what’s happening in our country, including naming the ways that authoritarian tactics are being used to consolidate power and silence dissent.
It means naming racism for what it is, even when it is dressed up as “law and order.”
It means standing with immigrants, refusing to let fear dictate our compassion.
It means affirming LGBTQIA+ lives, declaring loudly that every person is made in the image of God.
It means rejecting the false gospel of Christian nationalism that confuses flag with cross.
It means proclaiming that God’s kin-dom is not built on exclusion, but on radical love.
And it means living differently. Feeding the hungry when policy refuses. Welcoming the stranger when borders are closed. Protecting the vulnerable when laws attack. Speaking truth when lies dominate.
It’s refusing to laugh at racist jokes at work. It’s showing up to city council meetings to advocate for affordable housing. It’s volunteering with immigrant services or teaching English as a second language.
It’s writing letters to editors or to elected officials. It’s participating in peaceful protests or organizing your workplace or running for office yourself.
It can be as simple as treating every person you meet, regardless of their documentation status, their gender identity, their housing situation, their addiction struggles, as a beloved child of God.
Let’s go back to the song one more time: If Christ walked these streets, would we let Him inside?
Friends, Christ does walk these streets. He’s in the unhoused neighbor we pass by. He’s in the Trans teenager fighting for dignity. He’s in the immigrant waiting for safety and asylum seekers scared to go to church because ICE is stalking the parking lot. He’s in the Black child carrying the weight of systemic racism. He’s in the addict seeking another chance. He’s in the people who can’t access health care because their
Medicare and Medicaid benefits were cut. He’s in the families who can’t buy groceries because of changes to SNAP benefits.
The question is not if Christ walks these streets; the question is whether we will recognize him. Whether we will welcome him. Whether we will follow him.
Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets.
Turn to someone and say: We are prophets of God.
Turn to someone and say: We will not be silent.
Turn to someone and say: Christ is walking these streets.
Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets.
When authoritarian voices demand our silence, we will speak.
When fear is used as a weapon, we will proclaim love.
When lies spread like wildfire, we will stand in truth.
When policies crucify the poor, we will walk with Christ to the cross and to resurrection.
Because Easter is our hope. Jesus conquered death and nothing can ever be the same again. Therefore, authoritarianism doesn’t get the last word. Empire doesn’t get the last word. Fear doesn’t get the last word. Death doesn’t get the last word. God gets the last word. Love gets the last word.
And Christ is walking these streets.
Moses longed for a day when all God’s people would be prophets. That day is here. That day is now.
If Christ walked these streets, would we let him inside? The answer is up to us. Will we crucify him again through silence and complicity? Or will we welcome him by becoming his body, his voice, his prophets?
Friends, the Spirit has been poured out on you. You are the prophets this age needs. You are the truth-tellers authoritarianism fears. You are the body of Christ walking these streets.
So go forth. Speak boldly. Love fiercely. Resist faithfully. Live prophetically.
Because the Spirit is not contained.
The prophets will not be silenced.
Christ is walking these streets.
Amen.
Want to listen to “If Christ Walked These Streets” by Call Me Christian? Check it out here!