Beloved Calvary,
This week Rev. Humbert and I stood in Washington, D.C. with more than 2,000 United Methodists from across the country, clergy and laity, gathered for worship and faithful public witness around immigration reform. We sang. We prayed. We listened. We marched. And we remembered who we are.
Our Bishop, Latrelle Miller Easterling, stood before us and proclaimed from Psalm 24: “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.”
She did not whisper it. She did not negotiate it. She declared it.
It all belongs to God.
Not to empires
Not to markets.
Not to political parties.
Not even to the church.
To God.
Psalm 24 asks a piercing question: “Who may ascend the hill of the Lord? Who may stand in His holy place?” Ad the answer comes back: “Those with clean hands and pure hearts.”
That question followed me through the halls of Congress.
As I participated in meetings and advocacy, my concerns were not partisan. They were constitutional. They were pastoral. They were moral.
I am deeply troubled by policies and practices that appear to erode the guarantees of the 14th Amendment, equal protection and due process under the law for all person. These protections are not fringe ideals; they are foundational to who we claim to be as a nation. When due process weakens for some, it weakens for all.
I am also concerned about the protection of the vocation of law enforcement itself. Many officers enter their profession with a commitment to serve, protect, and uphold constitutional order. When enforcement policies are marked by chaos, opacity, or violence, the moral and ethical framework that has historically shaped American law enforcement is strained, even shattered. That is not good for communities. It is not good for officers. It is not good for the soul of our nation.
Psalm 24 reminds us that we do not own this land. We are stewards. Tenants. Sojourners. And stewardship requires justice.
Bishop Easterling warned against what she called the “miseducation of the baptized”, when Christians become so formed by nationalism or power that we forget our first allegiance belongs to God. The cross stands higher than any flag. The eagle never flies above the cross.
That does not mean we reject our country. It means we love it enough to call it toward its highest ideals.
Untied Methodism has always held together personal piety and social holiness. We pray. And we act. We worship. And we work for justice. We seek clean hands and pure hearts, not only in private devotion, but in public life.
What I witnessed this week was not anger. It was repentance and re-imagination. It was clergy kneeling in prayer for members of Congress. It was a declaration that mercy and law do not have to be enemies. It was a conviction that due process, family unity, community safety, and constitutional integrity are not opposing values, they belong together. The earth is the Lord’s.
If that is true, and I believe it is, then justice belongs to God. Mercy belongs to God. Dignity belongs to God. And we, as disciples of Jesus Christ, are called to seek God’s face in how we order our common life.
I returned home grateful for this congregation. Grateful that Calvary Frederick is a place where faith is thoughtful, courageous, and compassionate. Grateful that we can hold complex conversations without losing love for one another.
May we continue to pray for our elected leaders.
May we pray for immigrants and families navigating uncertainty.
May we pray for law enforcement officers seeking to serve with integrity.
And may we ask ourselves the Psalm’s question:
Are our hands clean?
Are our hearts pure?
Because it all belongs to God.
Until Sunday, and all the days between,
Dr. Hutoon