While we had stir fry on Tuesday, April 7, it was my favorite TACO Tuesday in some time. Because for a brief moment, however fragile, however complicated, there was a pause.

A two-week ceasefire.

In a world that has felt like it’s been inching toward the unthinkable, even a pause can feel like grace.

But let’s be honest about the kind of grace this is.

This is not the peace of Christ.

This is not reconciliation.

This is not justice rolling down like waters.

This is a temporary halt to a crisis we helped create.

Let’s refuse to rewrite the narrative. The Strait of Hormuz was open before this escalation. The threats of annihilation were not necessary. The rhetoric of “all hell raining down” was not diplomacy. It was domination dressed up as strength.

When President Trump or anyone else suggests that this moment is the result of brilliant negotiation, we need the courage to say what is true: You do not get credit for putting out a fire you poured gasoline on.

Especially not when that fire was ignated with language that flirted openly with genocide (the destruction of an entire people). There is nothing strategic, clever, or praiseworthy about threatening mass death. Ever.

The ends do not justify the means. Not in the Kingdom of God. Not in any moral framework worth holding onto.

And yet… here we are.

Two weeks.

Jesus once said: If you have faith the size of a mustard seed… (Matthew 17:20)

So maybe that’s what this is. A mustard seed moment. A fragile, trembling hope that something better could emerge, that cooler heads might prevail, that violence might be de-escalated, that lives might be spared.

If I’m being honest (yes, some pastors still aspire to always tell the truth), my doubts have been louder than my hopes lately.

Because we’ve seen how quickly words turn back into weapons. We’ve seen how easily truth is bent, twisted, and discarded. We’ve seen how moral lines are crossed and then justified in the name of patriotism or even faith.

So yes, I am praying. But I am praying with eyes wide open.

Let’s not celebrate this as a win. This is a pause. A fragile interruption. A breath between threats.

If we treat it like a victory lap, we will miss the urgency of the moment.

Nothing about the underlying posture has changed. The rhetoric has not been repented of. The threats have not been owned. The moral failure has not been confessed. Until those things happen, the danger remains.

Let’s name something else that is deeply troubling…I see many “faithful” people defending these words, suggesting they weren’t meant literally, that they were just strategic, just posturing, just part of the game.

But this is exactly the problem.

When threats of destruction are dismissed as “just words,” we have already lost our moral footing. This type of leadership is unacceptable…no matter how you spin it, soften it, or sanitize it.

As followers of Jesus, we simply cannot tolerate this. Not because we are partisan. But because we are Christian.

So what do we do with these two weeks? We do not relax. We do not scroll past.We do not move on. We act.

This is a pause to:

Pray: not vague, passive prayers, but bold prayers for peace, for restraint, for transformation of hearts hardened by power, greed and ego.

Plan: how will we, as people of faith and conscience, continue to show up?

Communicate: call, write, and meet with those who represent us in Congress. Make it unmistakably clear: this is not acceptable. (I could write several posts expressing my disappointment, but not surprise, by the response of my senators – silence, and representative- a proclamation of unwavering support for Trump’s actions).

Advocate: for policies and leaders that value human life over political posturing.

Let the world know that this is embarrassing. This is un-American. This is not Christian. This is unacceptable.

There is another truth we cannot ignore.

Many are still defending this behavior…not reluctantly, but enthusiastically while also claiming the name of Jesus.

Let’s be clear: this is not Christianity. This is idolatry. It is the elevation of nation, power, and personality above the teachings of Christ.

Jesus said: By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another. (John 13:35) He didn’t stop there. He expanded that love to include neighbors and enemies alike.

Christian nationalism, by contrast, makes room for love…but only of self. It draws tight boundaries around who matters and who doesn’t. It blesses force where Jesus commands mercy. We cannot serve both.

We often say, “this is not who we are.”

But if we’re honest, this is exactly who we are right now.

Maybe it’s not who we aspire to be. Maybe it’s not the deepest truth of who we could become. But it is who we have become…

A people willing to excuse cruelty.

A people willing to justify threats.

And unless there is real, collective transformation (moral, spiritual, political) this is who we will continue to be.

A people willing to trade integrity for power.

We also need to abandon the illusion that we are automatically the “good guys.” Moral superiority is not a birthright. It is earned through humility, justice, and compassion. And right now, when we threaten devastation, alienate allies, and justify it all with religious language, we are not reflecting the light we claim to carry. We are obscuring it.

Here’s a free pro tip: Take a hard look at your social media feed.

If you see voices celebrating threats of destruction…

If you see people excusing dehumanizing language…

If you see “Christians” cheering tactics that contradict Christ…

Click that unfollow button…or at least “mute” them…even if just for a season…

Not out of spite, but out of spiritual clarity.

What we normalize shapes us. What we tolerate forms us. What we consume disciples us.

Two weeks. That’s what we have.

Two weeks to prepare, not for celebration, but for what may come next if nothing changes.

Two weeks to raise our voices. Two weeks to demand better. Two weeks to embody a different way.

Because this is not okay. It has never been okay. And it will never be okay.

The Church must not grow weary. The people must not grow silent. The truth must not be softened.

The ceasefire is not the end of the story. It is the moment where we decide whether we will keep telling the truth or start believing the lie.