If the Apostle Paul were alive today — which, theologically speaking, he most certainly is, just not in Washington, D.C. — he would probably take one long look at our national headlines, sigh deeply, and begin writing another epistle. Not to the Corinthians this time, nor the Galatians, nor the Thessalonians, but perhaps “Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, unto the citizens of the United States, scattered across fifty states and a thousand frustrations: Grace be unto you, and peace, from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” And after the greeting, he would start doing what he always did: calling people back to truth, calling leaders back to responsibility, and calling society back to holiness and accountability.

The recent news cycle shows a striking pattern across multiple stories: a Congresswoman pepper-sprayed at a taco restaurant during an ICE raid, Congress fighting for the release of the Epstein files, morally troubling U.S. military strikes in the Caribbean, families being crushed by rising energy costs, and a billion-dollar fraud debacle under Governor Tim Walz in Minnesota. These stories, different though they may seem, are all symptoms of the same disease: a profound crisis of stewardship. The kind Paul confronted in Corinth, and Galatia, and everywhere else the early Church tried to survive amid confusion, corruption, and competing powers.

The Pauline Epistles — the theological backbone of the New Testament — are not dusty relics or academic curiosities. They are the living voice of an apostle commissioned by Christ Himself, addressing real people in real crises. Through Paul, the risen Lord teaches His Church how to think, worship, live, and endure. And as strange as it may sound, the United States in 2025 feels an awful lot like one of Paul’s congregations: confused, divided, occasionally chaotic, sometimes corrupt, and desperately in need of a prophetic voice telling it to return to truth, humility, and righteous order.

Paul’s Calling and America’s Need for True Authority

Paul never claimed his authority came from popularity polls, committee appointments, or strategic alliances. He stated plainly that he was called “not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God the Father” (Galatians 1:1). His authority rested on divine revelation and divine responsibility. And herein lies the contrast: where Paul understood that authority is a sacred trust, many of our modern institutions treat authority as a performance or a privilege rather than a stewardship.

Look at the incident where Rep. Adelita Grijalva wound up pepper-sprayed at a Tucson taco shop. Whether ICE acted negligently, excessively, or simply without clear communication, the result illustrates a failure of ordered authority. Paul told the Corinthians that “all things be done decently and in order” (1 Corinthians 14:40). Government power should protect clarity, not create confusion. Law enforcement should maintain peace, not escalate chaos. And lawmakers should exercise wisdom before marching into federal operations like they’re asking for extra napkins.

You see the same crisis of authority in the debate over releasing the Epstein files. Some leaders resisted transparency, even though victims have waited decades for truth. Yet Paul admonished believers to expose wrongdoing rather than conceal it: “Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them” (Ephesians 5:11). Transparency is not optional for a society that claims moral seriousness. Concealing the powerful is not mercy. It’s cowardice. If Paul rebuked Peter to his face for hypocrisy, imagine what he’d do to leaders hoarding evidence in a human trafficking case.

Authority without accountability is tyranny. Authority without virtue is corruption. Paul would remind America that moral authority is earned through obedience to truth, not through the exercise of muscle.

Paul’s Pastoral Heart and America’s Deep Wounds

One of the most remarkable features of Paul’s letters is their pastoral warmth. He doesn’t just lay down doctrine; he pours out his heart. He weeps, rejoices, pleads, warns, comforts, and challenges. He writes to people he knows. His letters arise from real circumstances: doctrinal confusion, moral meltdown, persecution, division, spiritual immaturity. Sound familiar?

In the Caribbean boat-strike crisis, where U.S. forces allegedly killed incapacitated survivors floating in the water, we see precisely the kind of moral blind spot Paul addressed repeatedly. He had much to say about justice, mercy, and restraint. His words to the Romans about government being “a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil” (Romans 13:4) presuppose a government that can distinguish between threats and non-threats. Once a person is disabled, unarmed, and floating helplessly, the sword must be sheathed. Even Israel’s ancient warfare codes — which Paul knew well — forbade killing those who could no longer resist. The Apostle would look at such a strike and call it what it is: a violation not only of law, but of conscience.

Paul also cared deeply for the poor, not in slogans, but in action. His collection for the Jerusalem saints, his admonitions to generosity, and his insistence that believers provide for their own households all testify to his belief that economic burdens on families are moral concerns. So, when modern American families are drowning in rising electricity bills, Paul’s words feel almost haunting: “If any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith” (1 Timothy 5:8). A nation that claims to value family but designs energy policies that gut household budgets needs a spiritual chiropractor. Its priorities are out of alignment.

And then there is Minnesota’s billion-dollar fraud scandal, where money intended to feed children and vulnerable families was siphoned off while whistleblowers reportedly faced retaliation. Paul told Titus that a steward of God must be “blameless,” not greedy, not careless, not self-serving. What would he say to a government that couldn’t keep track of a billion dollars meant for the needy? Probably the same thing he said to the Galatians when they abandoned sound doctrine: “O foolish Galatians, who hath bewitched you?” (Galatians 3:1). Foolishness and stewardship make a dangerous mixture.

Paul’s Doctrine as the Cure to America’s Disorder

Paul’s theology is not abstract. It is intensely practical, and it explains exactly why America keeps tripping over the same moral potholes.

First, Paul teaches that sin is a universal reality. “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). This means corruption isn’t a partisan issue. It’s a human issue. Democrats fail. Republicans fail. Bureaucrats fail. Officials fail. The problem isn’t which party is in charge. The problem is human nature when left unrestrained by truth.

Second, Paul insists that grace does not nullify responsibility. Forgiveness does not excuse incompetence. Being redeemed does not excuse being reckless. Christian leaders — and any leaders influenced by a Judeo-Christian heritage — are accountable for how they shepherd those entrusted to them.

Third, Paul teaches that truth is a public good. The Church is the “pillar and ground of the truth” (1 Timothy 3:15). When a society loses its grip on truth, whether in policing, foreign intervention, welfare administration, or public communication, it loses its ability to govern morally.

Finally, Paul anchors hope not in political victories but in Christ’s return. This keeps earthly power in perspective. Leaders who remember they are temporary become humble. Leaders who forget become tyrants.

What Paul Would Tell America Now

If Paul wrote an epistle to today’s United States, he would call the nation to return to truth, repentance, stewardship, and accountability. He would urge leaders to stop hiding behind bureaucratic fog and start walking in the light. He would remind law enforcement to exercise strength with restraint, not force without thought. He would call government agencies to guard public funds with the vigilance of shepherds, not the carelessness of hirelings. He would appeal to policymakers to remember the poor, for the strength of a nation is measured not by its GDP but by its fidelity to justice.

He would call citizens to holiness in their personal lives, humility in their civic expectations, and perseverance in their moral commitments. He would tell us, as he told the Philippians, to shine as lights in a crooked and perverse nation.

And then — after rebuking, exhorting, encouraging, correcting, and comforting — he would point the nation to Christ. For without transformation of the heart, no society can maintain accountability for long.

America Needs an Apostolic Backbone

In each of these crises — pepper spray, secrecy, military overreach, financial strain, welfare fraud — we see the same problem: authority without accountability, power without humility, policy without justice, and leadership without stewardship.

Paul’s letters, these priceless Spirit-inspired treasures, give us the remedy: truth, holiness, responsibility, unity, love, perseverance, and hope. They remind us that righteousness is not optional; it is the anchor of public life. They remind us that the vulnerable must be protected, the guilty must be confronted, and the truth must be spoken, even to power. They remind us that earthly nations stand or fall on their adherence to justice.

As Micah 6:8 commands, “What doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”

If America rediscovered that apostolic backbone, our headlines might look very different.