Dock Resource Kit
Sunday sermon, 22 June 2025
As part of our Romans Revisited series, this sermon looks at how Christians are called to live faithfully in a politicised world. Drawing on Romans 13, Phil explores three key identities — citizens, strangers, and ambassadors — and how each helps shape our public witness. He encourages us to honour authority, resist compromise, and represent Christ with courage and grace. In a time of political tension and culture wars, we are not called to win power, but to live as faithful followers of Jesus — grounded in Scripture, filled with the Spirit, and committed to the good of our cities.
Key Points & Takeways
Discipleship includes public life — our politics, work, and words should reflect the way of Jesus.
Romans 13 calls Christians to honour governing authorities, recognising God’s sovereignty even in flawed systems, and to live with respect, integrity, and grace.
We are both citizens and strangers — called to seek the good of the city while remembering our true home is in God’s Kingdom.
History warns us about the dangers of power, especially when the Church becomes too entangled with the State, losing its distinctiveness and prophetic voice.
Luther’s Two Kingdoms doctrine helps us understand God’s rule through both grace and justice — and why Church and State should not be confused or conflated.
As ambassadors of Christ, we represent a better Kingdom — not grasping for power, but serving with humility, courage, and faithfulness.
Political engagement matters, but no party fully captures the gospel. We act with wisdom, led by Scripture and conscience.
The Church is most powerful when it’s faithful, not dominant — we are called to be salt and light, witnessing to Christ in every sphere of life.
Dock Discussion Questions
Citizens & Strangers:
How do you personally navigate the tension of being both a citizen of your country and a citizen of heaven? Where do you feel that tension most in your daily lifeThe Church & the State:
What stood out to you about the different roles of Church and State? How might this help us avoid either disengagement or over-identification with political power?Ambassadors of Christ:
Where are you currently positioned to be an ambassador — representing Christ in your workplace, community, or relationships? What might faithfulness look like for you in that setting?Living Distinctively in Public Life:
The talk closed with the idea that “faithfulness is never wasted.” Where might God be calling you to renewed courage, love, or integrity in your public life — even when it’s costly?
Long-form, editted transcript
Romans Revisited.
Women, Leadership and the Gospel-Shaped Church
This morning, we’re continuing our Romans Revisited series — working our way through some of the most challenging and important themes in Paul’s letter.
We’ve already talked about a framework for ‘how we know what’s right’, about ‘our bodies, desires and marriage’, and last week about ‘women and leadership’.
And today, we’re stepping into another big, complicated, and deeply relevant question: how do Christians relate to political power? How do we live well — as faithful followers of Jesus, navigating life in a culture that often sees things very differently?
To launch us off, we’re going to read a short but often misunderstood passage from Romans 13.
Romans 13.1-7
1 Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. 2 Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. 3 For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and you will be commended. 4 For the one in authority is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason. They are God’s servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer. 5 Therefore, it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of possible punishment but also as a matter of conscience.
6 This is also why you pay taxes, for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing. 7 Give to everyone what you owe them: if you owe taxes, pay taxes; if revenue, then revenue; if respect, then respect; if honour, then honour.
Paul talks here about submission, taxes, respect, honour — and about government being God’s servant for the good of society.
It’s a striking passage — and let’s be honest, it can sound jarring depending on your political views, or how much trust you have in those in power right now.
Some will hear these words and feel affirmed. Others may feel uncomfortable.
We live in a time of deep political polarisation — not just here in the UK, but globally. Our newsfeeds, our workplaces, even our churches can feel like battlegrounds of competing ideologies.
It’s like you have to pick a side: left or right, red or blue, GB News or Guardian reader, Stop the Boats or Just Stop Oil, MAGA or… well, whatever the opposite of MAGA is.
And into all that, Paul says: be subject to the governing authorities.
Really?
Well — we’re going to unpack that.
But first, let’s be clear: this series is about discipleship. And in Week 1, we said that we live not just by conscience, but by Scripture — Spirit-read Scripture — even when it challenges us.
And Romans 13 does exactly that.
Because the Bible never sits neatly on one side of the political spectrum. It critiques both left and right. Not to offer a better party platform, but to call us into a different Kingdom — one shaped by love, justice, grace, and truth.
So this isn’t a talk about political theory — it’s about how we live well as followers of Jesus in a polarised world: honouring those who serve while holding onto our prophetic identity as the Church — living faithfully in East London, in workplaces full of competing values, in a society that often doesn’t share our vision.
To help us, I want to offer three pictures drawn from Scripture: Citizens, Strangers, and Ambassadors.
Citizens — who honour authority and seek the good of the city.
Strangers — who don’t conform to the culture around us.
Ambassadors — who represent Christ and his Kingdom in all of life.
And I believe God wants to meet us today — not with a strategy, but with a calling: to live wisely and faithfully in public life. To be salt and light in a city that badly needs both.
Citizens
Seeking the Good of the City
So, what does it mean to live as good citizens?
Paul writes: Let every person be subject to the governing authorities... for there is no authority except from God.
And that might sound straightforward — even a bit blunt. But as we’ve been doing over the past few weeks, we need to read it carefully, and in context.
Paul is writing to Christians in Rome — the capital of the empire. This is not a democracy. This is Nero’s Rome. A city of temples, slaves, brutal punishments, economic exploitation, and occasional bursts of persecution. And yet Paul doesn’t call them to protest or withdraw, but to practise a kind of quiet, steady integrity.
He tells them to be subject. To do good. To pay taxes. To live honourably.
Why?
Because Paul believed that God is ultimately sovereign — even over flawed political systems. He’s not saying every ruler is godly. But he is saying God is not absent from human structures, even when they’re broken. So our instinct as Christians isn’t to tear down or rebel, but to live faithfully — and be a blessing.
This is actually a deeply Jewish idea, rooted in the words of the prophet Jeremiah to the exiles in Babylon: in Jeremiah 29:7 we read, “Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile... Pray to the Lord for it, for if it prospers, you too will prosper.”
This is what Paul is picking up — a vision of people who belong to another Kingdom, but who live well in this one.
People who bring peace, honour, and blessing — not chaos, resentment, or cynicism.
And in our own context, I want to say clearly: being a good citizen matters. Not because the government is perfect — but because we are followers of Jesus, and our public life should reflect that.
Paying our taxes. Speaking with respect. Honouring authority — even when we disagree, even when we’re frustrated, even when we didn’t vote for them.
That doesn’t mean silence — or blind loyalty.
Throughout the book of Acts, Paul stands up to injustice, appeals to his rights, and challenges both religious and political authorities. He’s not passive. But his posture is never arrogant or tribal — it’s faithful, courageous, and humble.
And that’s the call for us too.
For many of you, this isn’t abstract — it’s your day job. You work within the state: teaching, shaping policy, delivering services, managing impossible caseloads. Some of you carry quiet responsibility for entire departments; others work on the front line in schools, hospitals, council offices, or the courts.
We see you.
And we thank God for you.
Your work matters.
You’re not on the edge of God’s mission — you’re right in the thick of it: holding things together, seeking the good of the city, living out justice, care, and order — even when it feels like no one sees it.
Jesus said in Matthew 5, “You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world... Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven”.
That’s what you’re doing — your daily faithfulness is part of what God is doing.
But I also want to say: we know the pressures you face. Ethical grey zones. Bureaucracy. Competing priorities. Endless emails. Awkward policies. Systems that sometimes feel more broken than helpful.
And so I also want you to hear this clearly — your job doesn’t have to be perfect for God to work through it. You can still be faithful, even within tension. And we want to pray for wisdom, courage, and grace for you.
For all of us — this is our calling. Whether we work in the public sector or not. Whether we’re students, business owners, parents, artists, retired.
We are all called to live in such a way that our citizenship reflects our faith. Not with arrogance. Not by shouting. But by being quietly radiant with the goodness of God. Honouring those in authority. And trusting that even in a broken system, God is still at work.
Strangers
Holding Power Lightly
But there’s another part to our identity — one that runs alongside our calling as citizens. As followers of Jesus, we’re also called to live as strangers in the world.
Hebrews 11 describes the faithful as those who, “admitted they were strangers and exiles on the earth… longing for a better country — a heavenly one.”
And 1 Peter 2 the Church is called to live, “as foreigners and exiles” — distinct from the culture, even while fully present within it.
That’s the tension we hold — as citizens and as strangers. We seek to bless the world — but must never become too comfortable in it.
And one of the greatest dangers in Christian history has been when the Church becomes too closely entangled with political power. To see how that happens, we need to take a short walk through history — to a man called Constantine.
Constantine
Before Constantine, the early Church was small, persecuted, and on the margins. For three centuries, Christians had no buildings, no legal status, and no institutional power. And yet the Church grew — through hospitality, holiness, courage, and the witness of ordinary people living out the gospel.
Then in the early 300s, everything changed. Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity. He legalised the faith. Built churches. Gave privileges to bishops. And over the next decades, Christianity moved from the margins to the centre of society. It became the religion of the Empire.
Church and State became entangled.
In some ways, that was a gift — freedom, resources, public voice. But it came at a cost. When the Church gets comfortable with power, it can forget who it is.
Over time, Christianity stopped being the radical, servant-hearted, counter-cultural movement of Jesus — and started looking more like an institution designed to keep people in line.
The Church gained political influence — but lost something of its prophetic edge.
And that’s a pattern we’ve seen throughout history — not just in Rome, but in every society where the Church gains power: it risks being shaped more by politics than by the gospel.
Fast forward to East London, 2025. We’re not in Constantine’s Rome — or Victorian England. The Church no longer shapes the curriculum, writes the laws, or holds the nation’s moral voice. And for some, that feels like a loss.
But I want to gently suggest — maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
Because when we’re on the margins, we remember who we are: a people shaped by grace, not status — a Church of strangers and exiles, not empire-builders — formed by the cross, not by control. A community that doesn’t need to win power, but simply to be faithful.
We’re not here to dominate culture. We’re here to bless it, serve it, and witness to a different way.
And when our faith feels misunderstood, it’s easy to retreat or react. But perhaps this is a moment for quiet courage and renewed confidence in who we are, even without cultural power.
Because the early Church didn’t grow by being powerful. It grew by being faithful.
And that’s our call too.
You don’t have to have a platform to make a difference. You don’t need to be in Parliament to change the tone of a conversation. You just need to be rooted in Christ. Filled with his Spirit. And willing to live in a way that shines — even when no one’s looking.
Because in a noisy world that’s full of power games and self-promotion, the quiet strength of someone who lives with integrity, kindness, and humility — that’s real power. That is what changes things.
Luther’s Two Kingdoms
Each week in this series, we’ve been naming a core theological idea to help frame the topic. This week, I want us to consider something known as the Doctrine of the Two Kingdoms.
It’s a framework developed by Martin Luther — one of the key figures of the Reformation, whom we mentioned in Week 1. It’s helped Christians wrestle with how to live faithfully in the world, especially in relation to government and society.
At its heart, the doctrine says this: God rules the world in two distinct but related ways.
Through the Church, God rules by grace — forming a community shaped by mercy, forgiveness, and love, where Christ is King and people respond freely to his Word.
Through the State, God rules by justice — using laws, systems, and institutions to uphold order, restrain evil, and promote the common good.
The idea is that both are under God’s authority. Both are ways in which God acts for the good of the world. But they are not the same thing.
And a helpful summary could be:
The Church isn’t here to govern.
And the Government isn’t here to disciple.
In other words, the Church should never try to control society through legislation or coercion. And the State should never try to shape the Church’s worship, doctrine, or mission.
When those boundaries blur, things tend to go wrong.
Now — this way of thinking has been misunderstood and even misused at times. In the 20th century, during the rise of Nazism in Germany, some Lutheran Christians used the Two Kingdoms idea to justify political silence. They said, “Well, that’s the State’s realm — it’s not our place to interfere.” And so the Church became passive, even complicit, in the face of evil.
That’s not what Luther intended.
The Church isn’t called to retreat or stay quiet. As prophetic strangers, we cannot stand by when truth or justice are at stake. We’re not a lobby group or an arm of government — but we are the body of Christ, his hands and feet on earth, called to care, and called speak truth with courage and love.
This means: if you’re serving in law, government, planning, education, or civil society — you are part of God’s common grace in action.
Your work matters.
It’s not second-tier or spiritually thin. It’s one of the ways God upholds justice, peace, and public good. You’re participating in his sustaining work in the world.
But alongside that, the Church carries a distinct and vital calling:
To pray and proclaim.
To serve the poor.
To speak truth — even when it’s costly.
To love enemies.
To reflect heaven, not mirror the divisions of earth.
That’s not weakness. That’s Kingdom strength.
So as strangers and citizens, we live in tension — present in the world, but not shaped by it. Engaged, but not co-opted. Serving faithfully, while longing for a better country.
Ambassadors
Living as Witnesses of a Better Kingdom
So, we are citizens of our nation. Strangers in the world. And ambassadors of Christ.
That’s the language Paul uses in 2 Corinthians 5 — “We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us.”
Ambassadors live in one place but represent another. They’re present — but speak on behalf of somewhere else. That’s our role too: to be present in East London — in our workplaces, institutions, and homes — but always representing another Kingdom.
So what does that look like?
It looks different to the way of the world.
Because even though God rules through both Church and State — each with its own role — the temptation is real: to seek power instead of living faithfully, to focus more on winning than witnessing. You’ve probably seen it. Maybe even felt it.
Just one of the clear examples in recent years, I think, has been in parts of the American Church, where deep alignment with political parties and culture wars has — at times — confused the gospel with ideology. Christians have been drawn into combative, angry, and ungracious postures in the name of defending ‘Christian values’. It’s led to division, tribalism, and disillusionment — especially among younger generations looking on.
But of course, this isn’t just an American story. It can happen anywhere. In any tradition. In any church. Because the temptation to seek control is always close at hand.
And you don’t need to be in high office to face this temptation. We all do. It shows up in staff rooms, council meetings, WhatsApp groups — even pulpits. Wherever there’s influence, there’s pressure: to compromise, seek approval, stay quiet. To start acting as if we’re meant to win culture, not serve it.
This isn’t a criticism of public engagement — that’s a good thing. We should care about justice, law, and society. But when the Church seeks control or ties itself too closely to a political movement, it risks losing what makes it distinctive — the grace, truth, and humility of Christ we’re called to carry as his ambassadors.
And let’s be honest — most of us still vote. We participate. And that’s good. But it requires wisdom. No party fully reflects the gospel, so we discern: which policies reflect justice? Which leaders show integrity? Where can I act in line with Scripture and conscience? We may vote differently in different elections — but always remembering that our highest loyalty is to God’s Kingdom, and our role is to be ambassadors of his way.
And for some of you, passion runs deep. You follow the news closely. You write to your MP. You care about housing reform, climate justice, education policy, healthcare funding, criminal sentencing, or foreign aid. Maybe you’ve marched, campaigned, canvassed, or even stood for election — not to impose your faith, but to seek the good of your neighbours. That is good and godly work.
We need Christians in politics.
Not to dominate the space, but to serve it — with wisdom, grace, and justice. Our country needs people shaped by Christ — ambassadors who remember where their true allegiance lies, and that God’s Kingdom advances not by control, but through love, truth, and sacrificial witness.
We’re not here to win culture.
We’re here to reflect Christ.
The goal is not to hold power, but to live as ambassadors of Jesus’ Kingdom — faithful, even when it’s costly.
And in the Kingdom of God, faithfulness is never wasted.
A Call to Live Faithfully in Public Life
Let’s land this where Paul does — remembering that discipleship includes really practical things, even political things (with a small ‘p’) — paying taxes, showing respect, living justly and with dignity.
This is our calling — to live wisely, faithfully, and distinctively in the public square.
To honour those who serve.
To seek the good of our cities.
And to remember that our true citizenship is in heaven.
Let’s serve in politics — but not make it our god.
Let’s care about public life — but not be consumed by it.
Let’s speak up — but never shout down.
Let’s act — always in love, and for his glory.
Let’s remember that Jesus said:
“You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world... Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”
As we close this morning, let me say again — especially to those working in government, education, the NHS, and public service: thank you.
Your work matters.
We see the weight you carry.
May you be strengthened to serve with courage and wisdom, knowing that God is with you in the midst of it all.
And to all of us — let’s be a people who honour, who pray, who serve, and who live like Jesus.
The world doesn’t need a louder Church — but a more faithful one.
Closing Prayer
Lord Jesus,
You are King above all kings,
Lord above all governments, powers, and systems.
And yet you came not to dominate, but to serve.
Not to seize control, but to lay down your life.
We stand before you now
as your people —
citizens of heaven,
living here on earth as strangers and ambassadors.
Called to follow you in every part of our lives.
So send us out:
To live with integrity,
To act with justice,
To walk in humility,
To speak with grace,
To serve the good of our city,
And to show the world what your Kingdom looks like.
Strengthen those among us who serve in public life —
in government, education, health, and law.
Give them wisdom, courage, and peace.
And for all of us, Lord:
Help us to be salt and light
in our workplaces, our families, our neighbourhoods,
until your Kingdom comes in full.
Amen.