On Barking Dogs and Hills Worth Dying For

I’ve done a lot of thinking recently about political discourse.  Out of some recent discussions, I’ve come to a pretty big decision:  I think I’m going to bow out of and avoid most political discussions.¹

As I’ve pondered the tone of such discourses, I’ve been forced to think about its rancor in a very serious way.  I think here my co-worker’s rebuke that I’m “not doing to Gospel any good” would be well placed, given my tendency to set aside (albeit not by conscious decision) any Christian charity in such discussions.  I find it far too easy to give in to the temptation to assume the vitriolic stance that permeates every side of the political debate.  That, of course, is my problem and something for which I’ll answer some day, but, admitting your problem is the first step to recovery.

Furthermore, my focus continues to shift beyond Washington politics in a lot of ways.  Around the elections of 2000 and 2004, the politics surrounding all of that (domestic, fiscal, and foreign policies and all their intricacies) were extremely interesting to me.  In recent years, however, that interested has waned somewhat as I’ve found myself stretched extremely thin trying to remain abreast in those fields to be informed and effective in any sort of discussion, which is extremely tiring.  In addition, and much more importantly, I’ve been making conscious strides toward deepening my faith and making it more tangible.  Much to my shame, that Faith has had, at times, little impact on my public life and appearance, an appalling, deplorable lack I’m trying desperately to remedy.

As I reflect on those efforts, I’m reminded (surprise, surprise) of a couple of songs.  One by Derek Webb, “A King and a Kingdom,” has this line:

Another line I really like, from Switchfoot’s song, “Politicians,” says

I think they both capture the sentiment I find growing in me.  I am finding it harder and harder² to get worked up over whether or not the CIA is listening in on my phone calls (and whether or not that’s legal); who outed Valerie Plame and was she really outed; how much of my money should the government take from me to give to someone else; and whether or not we should build a giant brick wall along the Rio Grande.  Honestly, as I try to make the reality of the Already But not Yet Kingdom of God more of a force in my life, I view such issues more and more as somewhat trivial in the overall scheme of things (that obviously has not kept from me jumping into the debates, unfortunately).  It is that growing realization of what I’ve always known (well, known since I became a Believer) that makes me increasingly uneasy (and oftentimes embarrassed) with a lot of my political activism (before you panic, Brian, see below :).  I think Cory nailed it with this comment:

I don’t want to be seen as a Republican, nor do I want to be seen as a political conservative.  What I really want to be known as is a man, flawed from birth, who was saved by the grace of Jesus Christ, and who loved those around him.  For me, given the aforementioned flaws, that’s difficult to do if I’m engaged in certain parts of the political debate.  I recognize that flaw in me, and, until/if that flaw is properly under the Lordship of Christ, it’s best both for me and the Gospel if I refrain from those situations, much like a recovering drunk needs to avoid bars.  I say that not because I feel that political involvement is inherently wrong, but that I find it difficult for me to be so involved with grace and love.

I do not, however, plan to completely withdraw from political discourse.  I think it’s of utmost importance to be informed on the issues so that I can vote wisely.  Furthermore, there are issues that are hot button political issues, that also concern me as a Christian.  High taxes and wire tapping are of little to no concern to me from a Biblical perspective (Though there are certain Christian principles that apply there, I’ll leave those battles to others for the reasons outlined above).  The issues I feel compelled to address, though, are those directly addressing moral issues:  abortion, embryonic stem cell research, and the deterioration moral climate in America, for example.  While one could probably build a decent Biblical case against wire tapping, for example, there’s no clear mandate to militate against it (and if you feel that’s the battle you need to fight, more power to you).  With issues like abortion, however, I feel that there is a very clear directive (even though the term is not used in the text of Scripture) that we oppose such evil practices.  The preservation of innocent life and the opposition to those who would willingly take it is, I think, a very strong Biblical mandate, so that’s one field of endeavor I can not in good conscience abandon.  As I’ve discussed, though, I need to strive to allow the Holy Spirit to engender in me that spirit of gentleness and love that Peter talks about.

Even as I write this, I’m struck with the oddness and awkwardness of the timing of such a decision.  To make such a bold and clear confession of faith on the heels of such a decidedly un-Christian debate is the height of hypocrisy, is it not?  I’m not so sure.  If I continue to behave in such a manner, then the answer is an unqualified “yes.”  Indeed, it is the ugliness of that very scene that drives me away from it!  What I hope you see here is, rather, the confession of a contrite heart and a commitment to amend my ways.  I think my coworker, had he pointed his rebuke a slightly different direction, would have been dead on, and that saddens me beyond words.  I probably have done the Gospel no good with some of my political debate, but, with God’s help, I won’t do anymore harm.  All along, it has been for Christ’s Kingdom, not President Bush’s, that I have (or should have) been striving, and it’s high time that I act that way.