“Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, the gospel concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh. … Through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the gentiles for the sake of his name, including you who are called to belong to Jesus Christ. To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” (Romans 1:1-3, 5-7)
I don’t usually write about Paul. His letters can feel dense, argumentative, easily conscripted into debates that flatten their urgency. But this Advent, Paul’s opening words to the Romans feel newly poignant. When the political news of the day, every day, makes me want to hide under my furniture, these words roll around in my mind. Set apart rather than elevated, not purified from the world but marked by a different allegiance. In a culture increasingly organized around extraction of data, labor, attention, even creativity, being set apart by allegiance rather than usefulness feels quietly subversive.
That phrase matters right now. In the U.S., Christianity has been used to draw lines: who belongs and who does not, who is “real” and who is suspect, who is protected and who is expendable. Political language has trained us to think in categories of us and them, often baptized with religious vocabulary. We see the same logic at work in our technologies, which sort, rank, and commodify people as inputs and outputs rather than neighbors. Paul’s claim pushes in the opposite direction. The gospel sets him apart not to exclude but to belong differently.
From the opening lines, Paul insists that this gospel is not new, not improvised for political convenience, and not owned by any one people. It is promised long ago, rooted in history, embodied in flesh. And its audience is expansive: all God’s beloved. Paul names the Gentiles explicitly. Those once defined as outsiders are not a footnote; they are central to the story. Belonging here is not something that can be scraped, replicated, or scaled; it is relational, costly, and particular.
This matters in an Advent shaped by fear and fracture. When communities organize to protect neighbors during immigration raids, when mutual aid steps in during government shutdowns, when people share food, information, and care because systems have failed, these are signs. Not signs of divine rescue from above but signs of a gospel that refuses exclusion. Signs of a belonging not controlled by borders, paperwork, or political identity. They resist a world that treats people as resources to be managed rather than lives to be honored.
People depict Jesus, Mary, and Joseph as refugees in a dinghy boat in response to a far-right group holding an anti-immigrant “Christmas” rally in London on Dec. 13, 2025. (Jonathan Brady/PA Images/Alamy)
Paul’s gospel is dangerous precisely because it dissolves the categories we rely on to feel secure. It insists that belonging precedes deserving. That grace is not a reward for correct belief or national loyalty but a gift that creates responsibility toward one another. To be “set apart” by this gospel is not to withdraw from the world but to live in it without surrendering to fear-based divisions.
Advent reminds us that God comes into a world already organized by power and exclusion — and does not accept its terms. Paul names Jesus as descended from David and declared Son of God through resurrection power, not to reinforce hierarchy but to reframe it. Authority here is not used to draw tighter circles but to open them.
If Christianity is used today to justify separation, Romans calls us back to its center. The gospel does not teach us who to keep out. It teaches us who already belongs and asks whether our lives will bear signs of that truth.
Rev. Kristel Clayville, Ph.D., is ordained in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and writes and teaches at the intersection of religion, technology, and ethics.
NOTE: This is part of our Unsettling Advent devotionals running Nov. 30-Dec. 24. You can subscribe for free and receive them each morning in your inbox.
