🐮 Proper 12

Readings: Genesis 18:20-32; Psalm 138; Colossians 2:6-19; Luke 11:1-13.

Proper 12 Readings:

• Genesis 18

• Psalm 138

• Colossians 2

• Luke 11

Good morning from Albany, Oregon. I'm Brother Logan Isaac, and you're listening to First Formation. Today’s readings are powerful, and I want to focus especially on Colossians 2, though I’ll touch on the others too. There’s so much to say about The Lord’s Prayer in Luke 11, but that’s another episode.

"He Disarmed the Powers..."

The verse that grabbed me today is Colossians 2:15:

“He disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in it.”

The grammar is clunky—probably the NRSV—but the message is clear: Jesus confronted corrupt power and exposed it publicly. That hits home for me.

If you’ve followed me on TikTok, GIJustice.com, or elsewhere, you know civil rights, dignity, and justice are not side issues—they're central to my calling as a veteran and a Christian.

Becoming a Good Christian Soldier

I joined the military before 9/11. Afterward, everything became about nationalism. But I wasn’t looking for a flag—I was asking:

• What does it mean to be good?

• To be a good man? A good Christian? A good soldier?

That question has shaped everything for me. Many veterans only start asking those questions after someone challenges their morality. For me, it was a forward march toward meaning—not a retreat from guilt.

Why Deconstruction Never Fit

People talk a lot about deconstruction, but that term never quite landed with me. I wasn’t tearing anything down—I was looking for something sturdy enough to hold me up. A faith, a tradition, a community that could hold the full weight of me—not a sanitized version.

And I haven’t found one yet.

Christianity and Military Metaphors

The early church didn’t shy away from military metaphors. Paul uses them freely. But modern theologians often reject anything associated with empire, power, or violence—without recognizing the cost of that rejection.

I’ve been closer to war than most of them. And I’ve seen the damage caused not just by war itself, but by simplistic condemnations of it—especially when they come from those who have never had to fight.

The Myth of the Spat-Upon Veteran

In God Is a Grunt, I write about the “spitting on veterans” myth and how it’s been twisted by both civilian and military narratives. It wasn’t civilians who invented that lie—it was a military veteran trying to rewrite history for ideological gain.

I’ll be releasing chapters of God Is a Grunt here on First Formation starting August 3 or 4. Stay tuned.

Seeking Mentors, Finding Gimmicks

I didn’t have veteran mentors at Duke or St. Andrews. And many of the mentors I did have were profiting off military communities without understanding them.

Worse, they often expected us to feel a certain way about our service—grateful, ashamed, useful—without listening to how we actually felt.

Naming Abuse, Defending Dignity

When I began using the language of “bias, harassment, and discrimination” in 2016 to describe my experience—not just as a veteran, but as an employee and student—I got pushback. A lot of military families just shrug off injustice. They call it "circumstance" or “shitty life syndrome.”

But internalizing those messages—You’re a monster. You’re not human.—that’s how depression and suicide take root.

Refusing to Collapse

People say I’ve “burned a lot of bridges.” But I say this:
A bridge that collapses when you walk across it isn’t a bridge—it’s a trap.

What I’ve found instead were drawbridges. And when people saw me coming—honestly, openly, unflinchingly—they pulled up the bridge. That’s not on me.

Truth as Spiritual Ammunition

In my own work—whether on my blog, through my publisher, or in person—I’ve used the truth as my primary weapon. Not to harm, but to reveal.

If my story has any power, it’s because it’s backed by receipts. Audio. Video. Documentation. I don't exaggerate—I document. That’s my version of spiritual combat.

Fighting the Good Fight

I’ve considered writing a new book called Onward: Spiritual Combat for Rank and File Believers. I’ve never fully explained the principles guiding me, but some of them are just muscle memory now.

• If someone fires at you metaphorically—overwhelm with truth.

• Record everything—receipts are armor.

• Speak plainly—even if it gets uncomfortable.

This is how I fight the good fight—not with violence, but with precision, conviction, and relentless honesty.

When Truth Feels Like a Threat

Recently, I told someone I was going to speak to the media about their inaction on military civil rights. That alone—just telling the truth—was interpreted as a threat.

It went to court. The DOJ gave them free lawyers. They claimed to feel “unsafe” being in the same room as me, so the judge let them testify remotely—even though I had given the court transcripts and recordings proving I never made threats.

That moment hurt. Not because I lost—I didn’t—but because a judge believed a lie with no evidence. That’s the reality of entrenched power.

The Light Hurts When You’ve Lived in Darkness

Sometimes, when you shine a light on injustice, people say you’re the problem. That your insistence on dignity is “aggressive.” But what they really mean is: You’ve forced me to look at something I’d rather ignore.

Truth is a disinfectant—and for people who thrive in the shadows, that’s terrifying.

A Combative Non-Combatant

This verse in Colossians reminds me:
Disarm the powers. Make them a public example. Triumph over them.

That’s what nonviolence looks like when it has teeth. It’s not passive—it’s potent. It’s not about avoiding conflict; it’s about transforming it.

We need combative non-combatants. Soldiers who’ve laid down arms but haven’t laid down their will to resist.

Final Word: Victory Doesn’t Always Look Like Winning

Some might say I haven’t “won.” But I know the monsters are at bay. I know I have the truth—and I know how to use it. And that means I’ve already won more than most.

If we speak of faith as a battle, as Paul does, let’s be honest:

• Not all battles are physical.

• Not all violence spills blood.

• But all truth exposes power.

So if the worst they can say about me is that I told the truth too loudly—
I can live with that.