Hey Christians, Let’s talk about Politics

As election day advances ever rapidly toward us, the noise of the world around us heightens to a cacophony of polarized opinions used as weapons toward our fellow humans. We find ourselves drawn to the chaos and feel we must join in the rhetoric of these far-reaching stances. The culture around us has taught us that we must take sides to be American, that our vote is undoubtedly part of our identity, and that freedom looks like the government allowing us its privilege. 

But our freedom does not come from the government we are born or choose to live under. Our freedom comes from the sacrificial death of a man that did not deserve it, in the place of our own deserving fate. 

We must remember that the same “religious freedom” that we so deeply cling to as Christians in the United States also allows others to practice their religions or to practice none. We cannot continue to label the United States a “Christian Nation” when its people, ourselves included, so clearly alienate human lives that were created by God in His image. We do ourselves a disservice in this thinking because it allows us to try to force unbelievers into Christian ways of living that can only come after hearts have been changed by the powerful message of the Gospel. 

We must not fear any political party’s or politician’s election when we are faced with the results. To live in fear of anything or anyone other than God, our Creator, is to undermine His sovereign power and infinite wisdom. So, whether or not your preferred candidate is elected, as Christians, we must remember who we serve and who alone has the power to change hearts, people, lives, and nations. We are electing broken people who struggle with sin, just like you and me.

Instead, it is with Christ, God’s Word made flesh, that we go into a broken world to set right what has been destroyed. We must not believe that an elected official will be the true change we wish to see in our communities. Instead, we must vote with consideration for our neighbor, for the vulnerable, for those whose privilege has been stifled under corrupt men, and for the good of our nation as a whole – both our brothers and sisters in Christ AND those who do not yet know His grace and mercy. And after we vote, we must march with the light of Christ into our homes, workplaces, neighborhoods, grocery stores, schools, and every place we go to bring the healing power of the death and resurrection of Jesus into each and every heart, soul, and mind. 

Hope on Saturday

I woke up this morning well before my alarm. I got up, let my dog out, and started a pot of coffee. I sat on down on the couch and pulled out my Bible to read about the Empty Tomb, and the bumbling confused disciples, and the women whom Jesus appeared to first, and his graciousness in appearing to Thomas, who couldn’t believe without seeing, and Peter’s pure joy in seeing Jesus once more as he rushed through the water to greet him. 

As I was reflecting on the scripture I stared out the window at the snow gently falling on the ground, knowing that there was likely 5 inches of it coming our way. Yesterday it was warm and sunny and lovely, and my nose was still red from spending the day outside. 

Typically, snow is my least favorite form of precipitation, but with nowhere to go but my home and Easter Morning in my midst, I was thankful for the reminder that the snow brings, “Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow.” (Isaiah 1:18)

Oh, how much can change in a day!

On Saturday, the disciples and those close to Jesus were mourning his death. They were wondering what it was all for, what it all meant. None of them could imagine that this could possibly be the plan. That anything good can come from this. 

Then, with the rise of the sun, two women were face to face with an empty tomb and then face to face with their risen savior. Everything had changed and they ran to tell the good news. 

Perhaps you don’t understand what it all means, or what the plan is, or why it is happening. You might be grieving a job, or your community, or your freedom. And there is space for that – we’re having a dark Saturday. 

But we live knowing what happens on Sunday morning.
We live knowing good news that the two women ran to tell their friends. 

We know that hope is alive.

Jesus meets us in our grief, in our doubt, in our unbelief, in our confusion. He meets us with nail-pierced hands and spear-pierced sides. He meets us on the other side of the grave and the darkness. He meets us in a pandemic. 

He comes, shining bright and alive, bringing freedom and offering hope. 

And that’s where we get to live – even though it’s our dark Saturday, we live in it with hope.