God Is Not Absent

We are currently living through the longest government shutdown in United States history. Some of our own church family members are unsure when they’ll see their next paycheck. Others are navigating how to feed their children without the support of SNAP. It’s complicated, heavy, and at times deeply frustrating. I find myself praying not only for resolution, but that something redemptive might emerge from all of this.

In moments like this, I’m reminded of Israel’s early history when the people insisted on having a king. For generations, Israel had no monarchy. They were a people led directly by God, guided by judges and prophets. Yet the desire to be like the surrounding nations grew stronger, and the people demanded a king. Samuel, the prophet, warned them plainly about what kings do:

“He will take your sons… he will take your daughters… he will take the best of your fields… he will take one-tenth of your grain… and you shall be his slaves… And on that day you will cry out because of your king whom you have chosen.”
—1 Samuel 8:11–18 (NRSVUE)

Still, Israel persisted. They chose the tallest, handsomest man they could find—because appearance felt like strength and legitimacy. And though there were bright moments under the monarchy, the long story is one of loss, division, exile, and heartbreak. In choosing a king, they weren’t just shifting political systems; they were shifting trust.

There is a tension today between trusting God and the church to care for one another and expecting the government to do so. We hear familiar phrases: “It’s the church’s job, not the government’s.” or “The only reason the government provides assistance is because the church failed.” I understand the impulse behind these statements, but the reality is more complex.

When Israel expected the Messiah, they looked for a political liberator—someone who would overthrow Rome and restore national sovereignty. Yet Jesus did not dismantle Roman welfare programs, nor did He campaign for new ones. He simply told His disciples to feed the hungry—and then He fed five thousand with bread and fish. Jesus showed us that provision is not either/or. It’s both/and. God works through governments, and God works through His people. Neither relieves us of compassion.

We may not be able to resolve a shutdown. But we are not powerless.

We can bring meals to families whose paychecks are paused.
We can support We Care and our weekend food ministries.
We can invite someone to dinner.
We can be present, attentive, and generous.

These are not small things. These are the things that remind a hungry world that God has not forgotten them—and neither have we.

And maybe, in a time when institutions feel uncertain and systems feel fragile, the witness of the church is this:

We love one another because Christ first loved us.
We feed one another because Christ fed us.
We show up for one another because Christ never left us.

Even in crisis, God is not absent. And neither are we.