We all have our prejudices.  To think that we don’t is to be willfully blind, prone to believe that the way we perceive the world actually is the world.  To deny our prejudices leads to an unwillingness to listen to others. It leads to an unwillingness to open up to the possibility that we might actually be wrong and so be able to learn.

One of the gifts, then, of the postmodern movement was to do away with any idea that we might be able to see things from an “objective” perspective.  And while there is a lot that is problematic with postmodernism, this one clarity, about our lack of clarity, has been hugely important.

So that the question is not whether we can free ourselves from our prejudices (we can’t), but rather what prejudice will we choose?  

Or, if we have to see the world through a lens, which lens will that be?

This is where pledging allegiance comes in.  Because it is to what or whom we pledge our allegiance that will ultimately form our prejudice.

The early Christians understood this deeply.  They lived in the midst of the superpower of the age, the Roman Empire, that declared that they and their emperor were bringing peace and salvation to the world through their influence.  And their influence came by military conquest and economic subjugation.  In other words, it was peace for some at the expense of others.

Usually the blood of others.

It was out of this world that the early Christians produced a piece of literature called the apocalupsis.  This is usually translated as “Revelation”, and the text has been used to demonize political opponents, justify wars in the Middle East, and make wild predictions about the end of the world.

But that is not how apocalupsis worked.  It meant, more specifically, an “unveiling” of the present.  And this particular piece was used to unveil the assertion that Rome could achieve peace through military might and economic oppression.  It asserted instead that Caesar was not the true ruler of the world by “unveiling” someone else as sitting on the throne.

And here is what that looked like, “At once I was in the Spirit, and there before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it…Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing at the center of the throne…”

Imagery is everything in an apocalupsis, so notice the imagery here:  

1. There is a throne. This is about political allegiance.  
2. Sitting on this throne is “The (slain) Lamb”, both the language of Jesus and what Jesus does.  He rules the world, not by sacrificing the blood of others, but by sacrificing His blood for the sake of others.  
3. This is at the center.  At the center of all things is the way of sacrifice, the way of love.  
4. This is in heaven.  This is the way that will outlast all other ways, the way that will ultimately endure.

This is how those early Christians expressed their allegiance to Jesus.  Their allegiance was given to the way of self-sacrifice, the way of love, the way of service, the way of grace.  It meant that they withheld their allegiance from the Roman emperor’s way of violence, way of oppression, way of tribalism, way of sacrificing the other for the benefit of the self.

And so they pledged allegiance to Jesus and to no one else.

And so do I.  I pledge allegiance to Jesus.

Because I, too, believe that at the core of everything, what really centers our existence and brings beauty out of chaos is the love expressed through Jesus.  It is a love marked by sacrifice and grace, truth-telling and mercy, justice and peace in the service of all people.

I can center my life on that.  I can pledge allegiance to that.

And where I place my allegiance forms where I place my prejudice.

And so I choose the prejudice of Love.

This is the lens through which I choose to see the world.

I pledge allegiance to the Lamb that was slain.