My first memory of political consciousness was the 1988 presidential election. There was a mock election in my second grade classroom and I asked my parents for advice ahead of time.
George H.W. Bush won handily. I voted for the other guy.
After the results were announced, I was perplexed. What was up with my parents? They seemed like all the other parents of my classmates. Everyone had a minivan and a basketball hoop in the driveway. We took swim lessons at the community pool and played Nintendo in our basements. Most of my neighbors did not attend the church where my father was the pastor, but they still went to a church.
The only major difference I could discern was that my mother didn’t eat meat. My father did, but Mom cooked most of the meals. I concluded that vegetarianism was the divisive issue.
And next time I vowed to vote differently!
Now a pastor and a parent, I think about the perspectives we use to judge one another. Liberal. Conservative. Gun owner. NPR supporter. NASCAR fan. Vegetarian. Christian. We often focus on divisions.
Yet, we the people should look to unite for our own best interests, as well as the welfare of life on our planet. A mere 1% of the population controls half the wealth. A half-dozen or so international companies have the rights of an individual citizen. Powerful special interests make decisions without regard for the American public but for their own financial gain.
On my more optimistic days, I believe that voters can broadly coalesce across partisan divisions for the common good. That Democrats and Republicans will join together in opposition to cheap energy policies that bankrupt the environment for future generations, even if we hurt our financial bottom lines in the short term. And that progressives and evangelicals can agree to expand the definition of the sanctity of life to include more comprehensive and affordable healthcare, even while holding uncompromising positions about abortion.
I’d like to think that people of good faith would unite to protest police brutality, advocate for public schools and provide affordable housing in our local communities. But then I read this:
Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division.
Such words seem to contradict the image of the gentle Jesus that adorns most Sunday school classrooms. The verse that follows would not be part of a campaign for “family values.”
From now on there will be five in one family divided against each other, three against two and two against three.
According to the Gospels, Jesus was a brown-skinned, homeless man executed by the unjust powers of the state. He aroused fierce opposition from the wealthy, powerful elite and paid with his life. Although his followers in this country are rarely called to martyrdom, the desire to follow his teachings will nevertheless lead to opposition.
It’s one thing to oppose powerful lobbies in Washington, but something else to find yourself divided from someone you love.
In our family, my wife and I are outnumbered by three young children. Still, she and I make the rules. No hitting. Stay behind the fence in the backyard. Screen time only on the weekends. We explain that these rules are for the safety and well-being of each individual, as well as for the good of everyone in our family.
But at eight years old, our firstborn understands the idea of a simple majority and vehemently protests the injustice of his dictatorial parents!
I hope to see my adult children in the shape and substance of their moral character. I hope I will be able to listen and learn from them as their opinions evolve, even if their politics differ from my own — perhaps one day I will eat those words! But I will always strive to look at my children with love.
From my childhood, I remember one particular game of Old Maid against my father. We played in his pastor’s study and the game came down to selecting between the last two cards. I won by looking at the reflection of Dad’s cards in his glasses! He flung off his glasses in mock outrage – my firstborn! cheating in church of all places! – and I fell to the floor laughing.
Dad clearly wasn’t concerned with winning. It wasn’t about the rules. Better yet, it was about a higher law. He taught me how to look with humor, grace and affection. I’ve never forgotten that little moment. Might such a perspective actually help to bridge the divisions in our country?
All I can say is that seeing is believing.
