Are We Really "Under"?

One Nation Under God

Most of us have said the words so many times we barely hear them anymore.

One nation under God.

But lately I've been thinking about one particular word.

Under.

We tend to focus on God. But what are we actually saying when we call ourselves a nation under God?

Under isn't beside. It isn't simply acknowledging that God exists. And it isn't asking God to bless whatever we've already decided to do.

To be under an authority is to acknowledge that authority as higher than our own.

That changes the meaning considerably.

If we are truly one nation under God, then government isn't the highest authority. Neither is the President. Congress. The courts. Political parties.

Not even We the People.

The words “under God” weren't added to the Pledge until 1954, but the principle is much older. The Declaration of Independence speaks of rights “endowed by their Creator.”

That's important.

Government didn't give us those rights. It recognized rights that already existed because their source was higher than government itself.

That's what under means.

And it applies to more than government.

If I expect my leaders to recognize an authority higher than themselves, then I have to recognize that same authority in my own life.

I don't get to demand humility from government while refusing it myself.

“One nation under God” doesn't mean God automatically approves of everything America does.

Quite the opposite.

America can be wrong. Presidents can be wrong. Courts can be wrong. Majorities can be wrong.

I can be wrong.

Because none of us occupies the highest position.

We are under.

Under His authority. Under His judgment. Under His standard.

And, by His grace, under His care.

Those are easy words to recite.

Maybe it's time we remembered what we're actually saying.

Trust Begins Where Certainty Ends

Trust is one of those words we use easily until we're actually required to do it. We trust people. We trust institutions. We trust our instincts. We tell others to trust the process and remind ourselves to trust God. But somewhere along the way we started confusing trust with certainty. They aren't the same thing.

 Certainty says: I know what's going to happen. Trust says: I don't know what's going to happen — but I know who I'm relying on. That's a much more vulnerable position. And honestly, that's exactly the point. Trust only becomes necessary when something remains unknown. If I already know the outcome, I don't need trust. I have information. If I can control every variable, I don't need trust. I have control. Trust begins where those things end. And maybe that's why trusting God can be so difficult. If we're honest, sometimes what we call trust is really just confidence that God will produce the outcome we've already decided would be best. That's not trust. That's a preference with a prayer attached. 

Trusting God isn't believing everything will happen the way we want. It's believing His character remains trustworthy when it doesn't. That's why biblical trust isn't blind. It has an object. We trust because of who God has shown Himself to be — faithful, true, just, merciful, and unchanging. That track record matters. It's the foundation the trust rests on. Human trust works differently. People can prove themselves trustworthy. They can also prove themselves untrustworthy. Trust between people can be earned, damaged, and sometimes rebuilt. And sometimes wisdom requires that it be withheld altogether. That's worth saying clearly — because trust is not the same thing as forgiveness. We can forgive someone without immediately restoring the access they once had. Forgiveness releases a debt. 

Trust determines whether someone can safely carry responsibility again. Those are two separate decisions, and conflating them causes a great deal of unnecessary confusion and pain. Perhaps that's what makes trust so valuable in the first place. Trust gives someone — or Someone — weight in the places where we don't have certainty. It says: I can't see everything from here. But I'm willing to rely on what I know about your character. And when it comes to God, that may be the deepest expression of faith there is. 

Not: I know what You're going to do. 

But: I know who You are. That's enough.

#MeaningMatters