On Faith and Politics

Today, we are one week out from the 2024 presidential election. Many people I’ve spoken with are feeling an inordinate amount of anxiety about this presidential race, and who can blame them, with both parties catastrophizing the outcome. I’m mostly sad and disappointed, and I’m tired of the fact that we seem to be acting like a nation of toddlers. But as I look back at our past, it seems we were always this way.

As an amateur historian, I find that history grounds me, especially in our current age of aggrandizing every event into the most whatever thing that’s ever happened. American politics has always been a hot mess, and elections haven’t always been peaceable or straightforward. In the election of 1800, for instance, a deadlocked House of Representatives couldn’t reach an agreement on who should become president. Mobs formed in the streets and the governors of Virginia and Pennsylvania began readying their militias for action before the politicians were able to get it together and elect Thomas Jefferson. In 1828, four Democratic-Republicans ran against each other for the top job, splitting electoral votes and forcing the election (again) to the House of Representatives, who made a so-called “corrupt bargain” and installed JQ Adams rather than Andrew Jackson as president, even though Jackson had won the popular vote. Then, of course, there was the election of 1860, which resulted in an entire swath of the nation seceding from the Union and a nearly 5-year-long bloodbath that we call the Civil War.

I’ve said many times in this space that, in my opinion, the biggest threat to our contemporary church in the United States is the politicalization of our faith. We have made an idol of politics, worshiping the doctrine of political parties and seeking salvation in elected leaders. But the thing is, Jesus wasn’t interested in politics….at least, not politics in the traditional sense of the word. In both word and deed, Jesus sought to bring the good news of God’s salvation to all people, tearing down systems of oppression in the process.

Jesus didn’t mess with political campaigns. He didn’t seek out political leaders, nor did he attempt to make himself a space in the political sphere. It’s not that Jesus wasn’t aware of what was happening politically, or that he didn’t care. He just understood that there was something bigger.

In Matthew 11, John the Baptist sends some of his disciples to speak with Jesus. John had spent his entire adult life preparing the way for the Messiah. He had preached a gospel of repentance, leading people into the wilderness to pray and learn and fast and be baptized. He had witnessed that divine moment when Jesus rose from the Jordan River and God had claimed him as his one and only son. But time has passed. Things were not great on the ground in Judea. The Romans were still oppressive, there was still massive inequality, the religious leaders were still hypocrites, and John himself was languishing in prison. Beaten, broken, sensing the end of his time drawing near, John implores Jesus to bring him peace of mind. Are you really the promised Messiah? John asks. Or should we keep looking?

It’s a simple yes or no question, right? But Jesus doesn’t really do yes or no. Instead of affirming John’s query and easing his troubled mind, Jesus tells John’s disciples to….

I love this response, because it’s such a teacherly thing to do. John wants Jesus to tell him what he wants to hear. But Jesus cares too much about John to do that. Instead, Jesus says, watch me.

Watch me. Look at what I’m doing. See the difference it is making. Where there was sickness, there is healing. Where there was death, there is life. Where there was despair, there is hope. Watch me. Then determine for yourself if I am who you think I am.

There are a lot of politicians who claim the name of Jesus in their rhetoric, but I would argue that if their message isn’t bringing healing, life, and hope, then they are not really following in Jesus’ footsteps. And the same is true for us. If our words, whether in person or online, and if our actions are not bringing healing, life, and hope to others, then we have veered wildly from the path which Jesus calls us to follow. We cannot espouse vitriol in one breath and love of Christ in another. That’s not the way it works. If we’re watching Jesus, then our lives should look a little different.

In the book of John, Jesus puts it this way:

Jesus tells his disciples that they should be characterized by love…but not the Hallmark movie kind of love…. but the Jesus kind of love. Jesus gave himself to us courageously, determinedly, trustingly, full-bodily, continuously, selflessly, single-mindedly so that others could experience healing, life, and hope. And if we are to be his disciples, then we must watch, learn, and do likewise.

So next Tuesday, we should vote. But we should also do some kingdom work. Volunteer for an hour or so at a food pantry. Visit someone in the hospital. Check in with a neighbor. Hand out blessing bags to those in need. Send a note of encouragement to someone who is struggling. Post your favorite Scripture verse to your favorite social media site. Pay for someone’s groceries. Let’s let others know that there’s something greater than politics at work in our lives, and that the same grace and love we share can be theirs, as well.

In her book, Savor: Living Abundantly Where You Are, As You Are, author Shauna Niequist writes of the role that the church (and its people) should play in our world. She says, “The church is at its best…when it is more than a set of ideas and ideals, when it is a working, living, breathing, on-the-ground, in-the-mess force for good in our cities and towns.”

In this season of political uncertainty, let’s be the body of Christ for a nation and world in need. Watch Jesus. Then follow his lead.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara