This State of the Nation: When Faith Becomes a Border

By Bishop Michael H. Odom Sr.

There’s a subtle sickness spreading through nations and hearts alike—the belief that God belongs to us more than to them.

It wears many faces: race, flag, language, party. And when it speaks, it sounds holy but
breathes division.

History has shown that whenever people claim divine ownership over a race or a nation,
faith hardens into ideology.

It’s what we now call religious nationalism—when God’s name is draped over political
ambition, or when a people believe their soil is the center of His affection. But the God of Scripture has never been territorial.

He’s not impressed by our borders or birth certificates. He’s moved by justice, mercy, and humility. The moment we make God a mascot for our cause, we stop reflecting His image and start reshaping Him into ours.

Many invoke Israel as proof that God chooses nations. But biblical Israel was not chosen for privilege—it was chosen for purpose. Their calling was not to be the only people blessed, but to be a blessing to other people. Prophets kept reminding them: “You are a light to the Gentiles.”

Yet even Israel struggled with the temptation to turn covenant into superiority. The lesson wasn’t that they were better—it was that responsibility is heavier than privilege.

Modern Israel, the nation-state, stands in a complex tension between survival, politics, and faith. Its creation was born out of deep trauma, but its existence now raises timeless questions: What happens when sacred history meets modern power? When security becomes sanctified, and faith becomes fused with nationalism?

Whether in Jerusalem or New Jersey, the danger is the same—when faith becomes a flag, and love becomes conditional. When “God bless America” means “God bless only America,” we’ve traded revelation for religion.

The gospel cannot be caged in ethnicity or ideology. Grace does not pledge allegiance.
If we believe God is only for our kind, our color, or our country, we’ve shrunk a limitless God to fit our limited hearts.

This isn’t a call to abandon identity—it’s a call to redeem it. We can love our country
without worshiping it. We can cherish our culture without cursing another’s. The true mark of divine favor is not dominance, but service. Not who rules, but who reconciles.

Maybe the real state of the nation isn’t measured in GDP or elections, but in how we treat the stranger, how we handle the truth, and how we hold each other when everything else is shaking. Because a divided faith cannot heal a divided world.