Recently the group of us on this journey we call the Big Year Out travelled to the Philippines for a mission exposure trip. One of the steps in preparing was to obtain an Australian passport, which led me to the question of what it means to be an Australian citizen. As an Australian citizen there are certain rights the government guarantees for me including voting for whichever candidate I like in fairly run elections, a fair trial if I’m accused of a crime, worshipping whichever God I choose and openly speaking out against government policies. I’ve never really had to think about this too often – at the last election the biggest danger in my way was the crowd of party workers armed with how to vote cards. 

In the Philippines things are very different. I try to keep up with events in the world and so over time I have seen so many stories of famine, war, government abuse and corruption. When you see these stories you realise that outside your living room is a messed up world, but in this fast-paced world of images and multimedia it’s all gone by the time the sports bulletin comes on. Going to the Philippines was eye-opening because when you look out the car window and see children doing what would be called slave work in Australia, there is no sports bulletin coming up to hide it out of view again. On just about every street even in the richer areas, you see people living in dodgy little ‘houses’ with less structural integrity than a shed here. On the side of the streets you can but for them it is just about trying to survive. It’s something you experience rather than just see because a report on TV or in a newspaper cannot fully capture the smells, the sounds or any more than a small rectangular view of the sights. But the most amazing aspect of what at times felt like a Foreign Correspondent report come to life was to meet the people who are the story.

Seeing it all on the side of the road or visiting a place like Smoky Mountain is too real for comfort, but to then hear the people at the centre of these stories share personally is like a knife to the soul – you feel the pain yourself. Many of the pastors we came across are classed as enemies of the state by government agencies and some had experienced some kind of harassment from the government. We heard stories of friends who had been murdered, blatant corruption in electoral processes and of institutional corruption ripping off poor people. The greatest example was Pastor Berlin Guerrero – a man we visited in prison who has been tortured and unjustly imprisoned because of his faith, but yet he still chooses to be a revolutionary because of what Christ has done in his life.

To meet people officially labelled enemies of the state merely because of who they choose to worship was very humbling because they pay a heavy price for their faith while my government protects my choice to follow Christ instead of persecuting me. This idea of citizenship and how the meaning is so different in various nations then got me questioning things on a much deeper level. What does it mean to be a citizen of the Kingdom of God? It’s a tough one, and one that has so many perfect answers of what it should mean as opposed to what it can mean.

The answers to this big question that resound with me the best are found in the writings of the apostle Paul which have against all odds survived over 1900 years after he died. Paul understood quite well that to take citizenship of God’s kingdom seriously meant becoming a revolutionary because being a citizen of God’s kingdom was to oppose the unjust and self-serving systems of the world. Since about a week into our time in the Philippines I now take this citizenship of God’s kingdom seriously, and in turn that means investigating the risky idea of being a revolutionary. In the book of Romans, Paul passionately makes the case for why it is best to choose to be a citizen of heaven despite the consequences on earth. He particularly exhorts his friends in Rome to “not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2)

Refusing to conform carries a heavy price. Like the people of the Philippines these days, Paul knew quite well that any government facing a revolutionary movement will attempt to crush that movement with the entire might of their military forces. The Roman Empire was the dominant superpower of the day, so for Paul to state “in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:37) was an extremely bold move. Today we know Paul was correct – the great symbols of the power of Rome are now mere tourist attractions while the revolution Paul chose to join continues to grow stronger even in areas the leaders of Rome never knew existed. This price for refusing to conform does applies to everyone, each price different according to the circumstances – since the trip I have met a young person whose own parents deliberately oppose their decision to follow Christ.

In 2 Corinthians, Paul also makes two points about this revolution and how it’s going to work that are extremely important for me personally. The first is that citizenship of God’s kingdom is not about being a subject or slave of an overlord who wants to make life miserable.But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:16-18)

Choosing to join the revolution requires surrendering to God because our own ideas of freedom are false and inevitably lead to slavery. His freedom is different because it is a transformation that happens from the inside out. We begin to be more like God because our priorities are turned upside down and it becomes the greatest expression of our God-given freedom to live life walking in step with him. The revolution starts at that point when the choices we freely make begin to line up with the choices that Jesus would make in the same situations. The other point from 2 Corinthians is about what the revolution will look like to an outsider. Paul says “we are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us.” (2 Corinthians 5:20)

In international relations, ambassadors are sent by nations only to other nations with whom they have friendly relations. An ambassador’s role is not to attack other nations but instead to reason with them as representatives of all that their own nation stands for. If we are ambassadors, it means this revolution is not about opposing others but actually about loving them. Christ refused to condemn the people of the world (John 3:16-21) even as he was tortured on the cross (Luke 23:34) so our response should be to do likewise – love others even when they don’t love in return. Many of the situations we saw or heard about in the Philippines made me value what we have as Australians like never before. Likewise, something happened during our time in the Philippines and now I’ve realised that the importance of living a revolutionary life is so much bigger than I ever thought it could be. This whole revolution thing suddenly means so much more than ever before.Every day God offers each of us a chance to be part of the revolution. I’m on board, are you?