Excommunication? Yes.

I spent the early hours of this morning in the ER. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be avoided. I’ve been dealing with trouble in my left eye for the last few weeks, and somewhere along the way, it appears a retina specialist injured it badly enough that it became severely infected. It has only gotten worse over the last week, and, as it turns out, two different eyedrop prescriptions from two separate but equally concerned visits were making things worse. I woke up early this morning realizing that a trip to the ER was unavoidable. Hopefully, I have what I need now. And, as it would be for any grossly disfigured, pirate-like person, I didn’t want to leave anyone waiting on the plank. So, after some rest, time with God’s Word, and prayer, I started tapping away at something I’ve been thinking about all week and was determined to get out.

Maybe you heard the news about Governor Healey in Massachusetts? If not, maybe I should actually start with something else first. And by something else, I mean a definition of excommunication, if only because some Roman Catholics are calling for Healey, a confessing Roman Catholic, to be excommunicated. I’ll get to the reason for the calls in a moment.

In the meantime, let me just say that excommunication is probably one of the most misunderstood practices of the Christian Church. For the most part, people hear the word “excommunication” and imagine punishment. But that’s not excommunication’s point.

Excommunication exists for repentance, absolution, and restoration. Jesus establishes the pattern in Matthew 18:15–20, showing Christians how to move patiently from private admonition toward gathering the whole Church’s engagement. But the process only progresses step by step as the sinner refuses to hear God’s Word, repent, and amend. Still, even in the final step—excommunication—restoration remains the goal.

All of this is to say that excommunication is the Church, in love, refusing to allow an impenitent sinner to exist comfortably in dangerous falsehood that leads away from eternal life to eternal condemnation. For the sake of the faithful, it also means guarding the Church from pretending that open, persistent, and unrepentant sin is somehow compatible with a faithful Christian confession.

Now, back to Governor Healey.

Healey, a Catholic, gleefully signed legislation last week eliminating the state’s previous legal restrictions on abortion after 24 weeks. Under the new law, abortions will be legal right up to birth. You read that right. As it is here in Michigan, a full-term baby can now be aborted in Massachusetts, too. The state’s Catholic bishops had already condemned the measure, even going so far as to call it a “gravely immoral” measure. Of course, that’s a sanitized description. I’d call it state-sanctioned barbarism.

I’ve implied the appropriateness of excommunication for Christians who openly defend and support abortion. In fact, I can think of a couple of folks in the past who transferred from Our Savior to other local LCMS congregations because I spoke those words out loud. I remember my District circuit visitor at the time mentioning the Johnson Amendment, seemingly in passing, and implying that I might be offending someone’s civil rights. I found the argument strange. Why? Because, ultimately, he didn’t ground his position in the Word of God, but instead said something more like, “You’d better be careful what you say about the state, because the state says so.”

That said, forget for a moment that God’s Word seems to matter very little to folks in these situations and instead consider that too many are way more confident than accurate with their Johnson Amendment invocation. Essentially, under section 501(c)(3), churches and other tax-exempt organizations are prohibited from financial partisanship. This means churches cannot use the congregation’s money to intervene in political campaigns on behalf of or in opposition to particular candidates. An easy example is that it can’t donate to or print materials on behalf of a local candidate or party.

What the Johnson Amendment does not say is that churches must become politically mute. Churches remain free to preach and teach concerning anything and everything under the sun. They may take positions on political issues, ideologies, legislation, public policies, and whatever, even when those issues divide candidates. And that’s good, because almost everything in our world is, in some way, Christological, and as such, the Church has both the freedom and the responsibility to engage with it, while also shepherding God’s people through it.

Still, remember that excommunication looks like punishment to the onlooking world, even though it isn’t. Add to that the misunderstanding that many interpret the Johnson Amendment as protection against political persecution or punishment, and we have a problem. But the problem only exists when a person gets both excommunication and the Johnson Amendment wrong at the exact same time.

Regardless of the fact that nothing, not even the U.S. Constitution, supersedes God’s authority, the Johnson Amendment does not say that a church must suspend its doctrine whenever a sinner happens to hold public office or the sinner’s dealings are labeled “out-of-bounds” politically by the culture. The Johnson Amendment does not erase the Lord’s instructions in Matthew 18. In fact, the IRS itself recognizes this by identifying a “formal code of doctrine and discipline” as one of the essential characteristics associated with churches.

Therefore, excommunication cannot be called a political punishment when exercised rightly. The Church is not saying, “You voted incorrectly, so we’re going to hurt you.” The Church is saying, “Through your actions in the public square, you are persisting openly and unrepentantly in something God calls sin, and because we love you too much to lie to you about it, we cannot pretend everything is fine. Repent, be absolved, and amend the sinful life.” And this would be the same process for everyone, whether the sin was committed in a voting booth, at a governor’s desk, in a bedroom, or wherever.

In short, the IRS’s concerns revolve around dollars. It can regulate a church’s use of finances in the public square. But it does not administer the Office of the Keys—the Church’s authority from Christ to forgive and retain sins among its Christians in the public square.

Looking back at everything I’ve just written, I need to be clear, especially for the usual suspects who are likely already preparing to email or message me privately. Understand that I’m not at all suggesting that to be a Christian, one must be a registered Republican. All political parties are imperfect human institutions, and there are plenty of things within the Republican Party that Christians can and should criticize. However, we shouldn’t pretend the two major parties occupy morally equivalent ground on matters about which God’s Word speaks clearly.

They just don’t. Not anymore. Not in 2026.

For one, the modern Democrat Party is nothing like what it used to be. It has committed itself institutionally to dreadfully ungodly positions concerning abortion, human sexuality, marriage, and a whole host of other platform planks that stand in direct contradiction to Christian teaching. And these are not obscure planks buried somewhere on page seventy-three of a policy document. They’re the defining commitments of the party—its principal talking points. On the other hand, while the Republican Party is often just as embarrassingly imperfect on other topics, when it comes to the fundamental moral questions, it remains the only major American political party whose stated positions leave any meaningful room for Christian conviction in the public square.

So, again, to my critics, I would never say that voting Republican makes someone a Christian. Salvation does not come through a ballot box, and the GOP is not the Kingdom of God. But what I am saying is that if Christians care at all about faithful engagement with the world around them, they forfeit the right to pretend that political choices occur in some morally sterilized chamber where God’s Word no longer applies. I’m also saying that at some point, continued political association with official platforms that stand in opposition to God’s Word becomes more than association. It becomes advocacy. It becomes cooperation. It becomes the deliberate lending of oneself—opinions, voice, vote, money, influence, public service, and so much more—to perpetuate things God has strictly forbidden.

That’s where I think the question of church discipline becomes unavoidable.

If a Christian willfully persists in sin, the Church needs to act according to the Lord’s mandate. If throughout correction, the person remains steadfastly impenitent, even as the goal of restoration remains, the door of heaven is closed until he repents. That’s why the Church calls this the Office of the Keys. It means the authority Christ gives His Church to forgive the sins of the repentant and to retain the sins of the impenitent—to open the door with the Gospel and, when necessary, to close it until repentance comes (Matthew 16:19 and 18:18, as well as John 20:22–23).

There’s no doubt in my mind that this applies when the sin has been folded into someone’s politics. If a Christian knowingly and willfully supports and/or makes possible the destruction of unborn life, openly celebrates the mutilation of healthy bodies in the name of gender ideology, or publicly advances other teachings fundamentally contrary to the Christian faith, the Church cannot simply shrug and say, “Well, that’s your political opinion.” Labeling something “political” isn’t a baptismal font. It doesn’t wash the sin away.

So, I suppose the harder question, then, is not whether someone has a D or an R beside his or her name. The question I’m suggesting we consider is whether political loyalty has become an actual loophole that allows, first, for a Christian to deliberately, publicly, and unrepentantly participate in what Christ confesses to be sin, and second, for a pastor to be absolved of having to deal with it like all other sins.

I think it has become just such a loophole. And I think we need to close it, regardless of the fallout, if only because the topic itself is not complicated. In Confessional Lutheranism, we already know that no matter the real or hypothetical scenario, everything must be observed through the lens of God’s Word. That also means, regardless of person—regardless of someone’s job or political office or opinions or whatever—no exemption from Matthew 18 exists for anyone. We all fall under its authority.

In Healey’s case, Massachusetts’ own Catholic bishops have already identified the moral character of what occurred. If they’ve pursued correction according to the Lord’s mandate, and still there has been no repentance and amendment of the sinful life, then Healey should be excommunicated. She used the authority entrusted to her to oppose Christ’s holy Word, then celebrated the moment and smiled for the cameras while doing it, proving her willful rebellion.

In the end, some folks will read everything here and immediately start tallying sins. “But what about this Republican position? What about that Libertarian one?” The question is not whether other sins exist or whether the Church has failed to confront them consistently. The question is whether clear, persistent, public impenitence should simply be ignored. I’m saying it shouldn’t.

Of course, the devil is remarkably skilled at taking what is objectively true and smearing it with enough subjectivity that, before long, God’s Word becomes “your interpretation,” or “your opinion.” That trick has been working for a very long time. Once that happens, the next move is kind of predictable. Rather than asking what the Church is obligated to say and do in all circumstances according to God’s Word, people start asking what the Church is permitted to say and do in certain contexts according to the government’s allowance.

But just remember, the Church’s responsibility to respond to anything doesn’t live or die according to the government’s rules. I can promise you that faithful adherence to the Johnson Amendment’s tax-exemption concerns will not be a part of the Last Day’s calculus. There’ll be no IRS agent seated beside the throne of Christ.

Besides, the Church should never be more concerned about its 501(c)(3) status than its call to bear the Office of the Keys. One comes from the heart of Caesar. The other, from the heart of Christ. Only one survives the grave.

God Will Let It Slide, Right?

I’m reminded of something my daughter, Evelyn, said to me on our way to the school this past Thursday morning.

Folks in Michigan will recall that Thursday was quite the sunny day. Even at 6:45am, which is when Evelyn and I set out for the day, the sun was already well above the horizon. Turning east out of our subdivision, the sun’s beams poured through the windshield, filling the car with its glory. It felt good—the warmth on my face in crisp distinction from the chill just outside my window. Even as it was somewhat blinding, before feeling the need to adjust the sun visor, its first stirring was that of happiness.

Surprisingly, Evelyn grumbled.

“I don’t like the sun in my eyes,” she said, scooting up in her seat and reaching to adjust her visor.

“I love it,” I replied, my visor still tucked neatly above the windshield. “It feels good.”

“I don’t,” she countered. “It’s too bright.”

“Well,” I added, “we probably shouldn’t complain about it, especially since we’ve been longing for days like this all winter.”

Evelyn didn’t respond, but I could tell she was reconsidering her position.

Certainly, I understood her frustration in the moment, especially since I was piloting the vehicle. For as much as I enjoyed the sun’s resplendence, I needed to be able to see, and the sun was making that a little more difficult. Still, the last thing I ever want to do is lie to myself, expressing any dismay at all for something I’ve been waiting more than a half-year of mornings to enjoy. In my eyes, or wherever, the sunshine was a welcomed guest to a long-suffered winter.

Tapping away at the keyboard while recalling this circumstance, I suppose there are plenty of lessons within it to be learned by it. Although, I can’t think of one in particular.

Okay, how about this…

Looking back at what I just wrote, the lesson that seems most prominent is the foolishness found in lying to oneself.

One of the worst things that anyone can do is to lie to his or herself. And it’s not necessarily the lie itself that holds all the danger, but rather the potential for becoming so convinced by your own deception that you willingly exchange truth for untruth. This reminds me of a video of Joe Biden from 2015 I watched this past week. It was a quasi-interesting twenty minutes of Joe sitting before a fawning reporter and cameraman and doing what Joe does, which is to wear a triangular smile while rambling incoherently. And yet, during the purgatory-like segment of softball-question nonsense, there was something Joe spoke about with relative unequivocalness. I ended up posting something about it on Facebook. Here’s what I wrote:

“I just watched a portion of a video of Joe Biden from September of 2015 in which he attempted to describe the authenticity of his Catholic faith. Barely a few minutes into his plastic words I had a thought. To be a liar is one thing. To be a sincere liar is something altogether worse. Or as Shakespeare mused through the character of Hamlet, ‘One may smile and smile, and be a villain.’”

The point behind this comment relates to ongoing news of several Roman Catholic bishops around the country and overseas pushing for Joe Biden to be excommunicated. They’re doing this because Joe claims that one can be a Catholic and be pro-choice—and not just the “safe but rare” kind that the Democrats proffered back in the 80s, but rather the kind that goes right over the cliff into believing abortion (in all of its grisly forms) is a gift from God, and even worse, that full-term abortion is something upon which God dotes with an similarly triangular smile.

Do you know what full-term abortion is? If you guessed a full-term newborn child being killed immediately after delivery, then you guessed rightly. The President of the United States—your president—believes such a thing is holy.

Of course, I expect the nominal Christians to come out of the shadows to say I’m misconstruing his position, that he only supports it in this or that special circumstance. These folks will say this because, well, they voted for him, and like him, they aren’t necessarily using the lens of God’s Word for discerning these things. Well, whatever. Use whichever intellectual dance moves you prefer for avoiding the visceral fact that the President of the United States has given a thumbs-up to doctors delivering and then murdering newborn children if in such a moment a mother decides she doesn’t want her child.

But let me take a brief step backward to where this started.

As a Christian, the only way to arrive at an acceptance of the pro-choice position, no matter the justification, is to lie to yourself about a great many things. It is to lie about what life is and means. It is to lie about life’s Author. It is to lie about what that Author said with regard to human dignity and the truest definition of personhood. It is to wield the Word of God in deceptive ways, and ultimately by such handling, to summarily reject it, whether the one wielding it realizes it or not. Lastly, it is to be caught in the dilemma that to reject the Word of God, by default, is to reject the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ.

You cannot stake a claim in Christianity and reject the Savior who sits at its heart. It just doesn’t work. Thankfully, there remain plenty of Bishops in the Roman Catholic Church who are willing to enforce this basic doctrinal premise.

I wrote and posted something else this past week that comes to mind, too. It had to do with an article from The Federalist entitled “Lockdown Mongers Can Point Fingers, But The Science Is In: They’re To Blame.” By the way, one of the two senior editors at The Federalist is a biblically astute LCMS Lutheran, Mollie Hemingway, whose father is a Confessional Lutheran pastor. I should add that The Federalist has several LCMS writers on its roster of contributors, and in my opinion, that alone makes it one of the few political/cultural news sources out there to be trusted. Anyway, here’s what I wrote when I posted the article:

“The devil has plenty of instruments in his bag, but deception is the glove he wears for wielding each one.”

Again, the point here was to say that there are plenty of tools in the devil’s toolbox for drawing us into Sin, things he uses for convincing us to believe and do the wrong things. But before he goes about his darkly deeds, his grip on each instance begins with deceptively enticing half-truths.

“Sure, I know it’s against God’s Word for me and my girlfriend to live together before marriage,” the young man says, “but it makes good financial and logistical sense to do so. I figure that as long as we have the intention of getting married, God will let this one slide.”

Don’t lie to yourself. Repent.

“It makes perfect sense that the churches are closed,” the husband and wife contemplate over Sunday morning coffee. “The science says that mass gatherings for worship are sure to be super spreaders of the virus. The Church can ‘love thy neighbor’ a lot better by masking up and staying home.”

Don’t lie to yourself. Repent.

“Certainly I’m justified in speaking poorly about that person to others,” she muses. “How could I be wrong in doing so? My friend hurt me, and I need the emotional support from other friends who understand. The only way to get the support is to tell others about what happened.”

Don’t lie to yourself. Repent.

To knowingly persist in such behaviors unrepentantly, having exchanged the truth of God’s Word for lies, won’t end well. Still, the devil will work to convince you that it will. He may even do it in ways that sound pious, kind of like Adlai Stevenson’s infamous words given in jest: “A lie is an abomination to the Lord, and a very present help in trouble.”

Again, I don’t want to lie about the sunshine and say I don’t like it. I love it, even when it’s uncomfortably shining in my eyes. It’s the same here. Don’t be fooled. Stick to the truth of God’s Word, even when it’s uncomfortable to do so. No matter what happens, you’ll have the certainty of real truth. You’ll be traveling along the stepping stones of faith cut from God’s reliable quarry. Along the way, you’ll know and understand the gravity of your Sin—your very REAL Sin—and you’ll know the One who came to forgive you of that Sin, to recreate you by His wonderful love, and to send you out as someone capable of beaming the refreshing and face-warming sunlight of His love in a wintry world of Sin longing for the rescue of a divine summer.