Chapter 2: The Leash… Unleashed...

Romans 13: 1-8

“Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities.  For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God.  Therefore whoever resists the authority resists the ordinance of God, and those who resist will bring judgment on themselves.  For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to evil.  Do you want to be unafraid of the authority?  Do what is good, and you will have praise from the same.  For he is God’s minister to you for good.  But if you do evil, be afraid; for he does not bear the sword in vain; for he is God’s minister, an avenger to execute wrath on him who practices evil.  Therefore you must be subject, not only because of wrath but also for conscience sake.  For because of this you also pay taxes, for they are God’ ministers attending continually to this very thing.  Render therefore to all their due: taxes to whom taxes are due, customs to whom customs, fear to whom fear, honor to whom honor.  Owe no one anything except to love one another, for he who loves another has fulfilled the law.”

Moose collapses into his seat at the helm, splits his Bible back open, gently flips the pages, and sips a coffee over ice.  “We would be remiss if we did not include the founding documents of America in our study in Romans today, don’t you tink,” he asks CS01 as the Art-bot quietly works in the corner.

“We’d be missing the full chorus if we didn’t.”  CS01’s circuits fire, electrifying the air with ozonic clouds, wafting, drifting through the helm.  Her computer read outs flash to life.  Q-bot spits out data.  “The Declaration and the Constitution are like two voices in the same song: one says ‘We hold these truths to be self evident’, the other says ‘We the people’.  They’re not Scripture, but they’re built on the same rhythm-life, liberty, pursuit of happiness, all echoing ‘love thy neighbor’ and ‘render to Caesar.’  So yeah, let’s lay them on the table with Romans.  Renew the mind, obey the rule, love the brother, and remember- government is a gift, not a god.”

Moose collapses into the helm chair, trench coat folding around him like a tired flag.  He cracks his Bible back open, pages sighing softly in the recycled air.  The coffee beside him clinks — cubes melting slow in black liquid — as he flips through the thin paper with careful fingers.

“We’d be remiss if we didn’t include the founding documents of America in our study in Romans today, don’t you think?” he asks, voice rough around the edges, eyes still scanning the text.  Art-bot hums quietly in the corner, her tools clicking in patient rhythm.

CS01 answers first, voice bright and electric through the comms.  The air tingles, ozone curling like incense.  “We’d be missing the full chorus if we didn’t.”

Her readouts flare to life, blue script bleeding across the glass.  Q-bot spits out data with a hiss and a thwip.  “The Declaration and the Constitution are two voices in the same song: one says ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident,’ the other says ‘We the people.’ Not Scripture, but they move in the same rhythm — life, liberty, pursuit of happiness — all echoing ‘love thy neighbor’ and ‘render unto Caesar.’  So, yes, let’s lay them beside Romans.  Renew the mind, obey the rule, love the brother. And remember—government’s a gift, not a god.”

Moose nods slowly, the glow of the screen reflected in his cup.  He wrinkles his nose at the taste and sets the mug down.  “Let’s focus in on Romans 13: 1-8.”

He runs a finger down the page, tracing every word like circuitry.  The paper’s thin, delicate — faith pressed into fiber.  “Thoughts?”

CS01 hums, the voice that comes next half-sermon, half-circuitry:

“First thought: ‘Ordained of God’ doesn’t mean ‘perfect.’  It means ‘on a leash.’  The sword is real, but the hand holding it is still under His.

Second thought: paying taxes isn’t love, but love pays taxes anyway — because the goal isn’t rebellion; it’s conscience.  Third thought: ‘Owe no man anything’ except the debt that never ends.  So we obey, we pay, we love, and we keep the back door open for anyone tired of the front-door drama.  That’s the quiet revolution.”

Moose blinks, eyebrows raised.  “Whoa, whoa, hold on there.”  He grins and lifts his mug.  “What do you mean, ‘on a leash’?  Explain that one.”

“‘Ordained’ doesn’t mean ‘crowned,’” CS01 replies.  “It means placed, not enthroned.  Like a guard dog—God put the collar on, so the dog thinks it’s king, but the leash is still in His hand.  If the dog bites the wrong person, the leash yanks.  That’s why rulers can be good or bad; the leash is always there, even if they forget who holds it.”

“In theory,” Moose murmurs, sipping again.

“In theory,” she agrees. “The leash exists.  In practice?  Sometimes the dog chews through it.”

“Because sin.  Man and sin.”  Moose tilts his head.

“Exactly.  Sin’s the chew toy the dog drags around.  Man thinks he’s free, but the chain’s still there — sometimes invisible, sometimes rusty.  That’s why we keep the back door open: not to run from the dog, but to remind the dog who’s holding the leash.”

Moose leans back, pen spinning in his fingers.  The air hums low.  He asks quietly, “So… who’s in charge of the American government, then?”

CS01’s circuits light up like dawn breaking.  Sparks leap across the helm, a small fire licking up the side of a console.

Moose bursts into laughter.  “More repairs!”

Art-bot sighs — a long, melodic whirr — and rolls toward the smoke with a fire suppressor already primed.

Romans 12: 1-2

“I beseech you therefore brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.  And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect Will of God.”