Twenty-eight days from now, every American citizen age 18 and older will be free to do what approximately half the world can only dream about.
We will have the opportunity to choose our own leaders.
But this astonishing privilege once again seems to be compromised by a pervasive fog of disappointment, mistrust, and cynicism.
It goes something like this: Out of a population of 333 million people, these are the most impressive candidates we could muster? Is this really all there is?
The need of the hour is hope in the midst of political discouragement.
Author and pastor Brian Roberts, writing a few years back in Relevant magazine, provides four helpful reminders:
First, this is not the most important or even the most conflicted election in American history.
Far from it. As we’ve noted in recent reflections, it’s hard to top the drama of the election of 1800, in which Thomas Jefferson acknowledged paying someone to spread lies about his opponent John Adams – at the very moment when the survival of our young nation was at stake. Then there’s the election of 1860, in which Abraham Lincoln was publicly vilified as “the original gorilla.” Half the states threatened to form a new country if Lincoln was elected. He was, and they did – ultimately because they believed it was acceptable to own fellow human beings.
We may think our nation has never been in such a sorry state when it comes to incivility, divisiveness, and the crass politicizing of every current event, including the destruction wrought just 10 days ago by Hurricane Helene. But that’s only because we need a refresher course on the no-holds-barred, bitterly contested campaigns of 1824, 1876, 1960, and 2000.
Every four years we’re breathlessly assured, “This is the most important election in history.” Roberts provides some helpful perspective: “Every generation thinks it’s living in the most important moment in history. We’re not, our parents were not, and our children probably won’t be. And that’s OK.”
Second, no matter who is elected, we’re not headed for either the Apocalypse or the Millennium.
In recent decades the party occupying the White House has depicted its service to America in messianic terms. The party that’s been out of power at the same time has typically suggested that the first party’s continuance in office would mean nothing less than the end of the world.
Political ads swing wildly from glowing promises to threats of democracy’s collapse. An alarming number of people believe that those who support the Other Party aren’t just mistaken. They are inherently evil.
Our assurance, however, is that the timing of the real Millennium and the real Apocalypse will not actually depend on voter turnout in Pennsylvania and Georgia.
Third, God calls us to pray for our civic leaders.
“First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (I Timothy 2:1-2). The apostle Paul makes a similar plea in Romans 13.
That means praying even for the leaders whose policies, character, or outrageous statements leave us scratching our heads.
Who was governing the Roman Empire when the earliest Christian leaders penned Romans and I Timothy? That would be Caligula and Nero, respectively, two of the most unhinged politicians in human history. According to church tradition, Nero ordered the executions of both Peter and Paul. Roberts observes, “If you’re mocking your governing leaders on Facebook, the Holy Spirit is grieved. We should spend more time honoring our leaders and less time vilifying them.”
Fourth, if we’re motivated by fear, we’re on the wrong road.
People who rail relentlessly about politics don’t love their country more than the people they’re screaming at. Fear – whether fear of open borders, or financial ruin, or war in the Middle East, or Social Security cuts, or whether climate change is at least partly responsible for that next hurricane barreling across the Gulf of Mexico – may indeed motivate slices of the electorate for short periods of time.
But fear, in the end, is poisonous to our souls. We are not called to anxiety as a way of life, but to trust.
Our grounds for such trust is clear: “God reigns over the nations. He is seated on his holy throne” (Psalm 47:8). God hasn’t resigned his position as director of the cosmos. And he isn’t going to be unseated by the electoral college. That’s our hope on Election Day.
Our privilege is to be part of the drama on November 5. We each get to play a role.
Best of all, we can know this:
Before, during, and after that day’s events, God will still be God.
Comments