Why Defending Our Politicians is Killing Our Spiritual Health
Early in the 2016 presidential campaign, one of the
front-running candidates uttered a ridiculous lie. I know, I know, how could I
point out just one lie from that era of punch-drunk history? Well, that same
day a friend asked me what I thought of said-candidate. I mentioned the
ridiculous lie of the day, and my friend retorted, “It wasn’t half as bad as
what all the other candidates say.”
Imagine me looking perplexed.
Shouldn’t we who have yoked ourselves to Christ see lying to
an enormous group of people for the sake of personal gain as a universal evil?[1]
Surely the actions of others don’t transform an immoral action into a moral
action. This line of logic is called moral relativism—the idea that morality
can be defined based upon the actions of someone else. Imagine you have two
children. You catch one stealing a toy car from a friend and when confronted
the child says, “yeah, but my brother stole some ice cream from the grocery store
last week.” The child cannot make stealing a toy okay because her brother did
something worse. Actions stand and fall based upon their own merit. We all know
that’s true.
And yet, it is also a timeless truth that we tend to be
willing to gloss over evil when it comes from someone we support or someone who
provides us with gain. Take Isaiah’s incendiary words to the Israelites for
example:
Ah, you who call
evil good
and good evil,
who put darkness for light
and light for darkness,
who put bitter for sweet
and sweet for bitter (Is. 5:20)!
and good evil,
who put darkness for light
and light for darkness,
who put bitter for sweet
and sweet for bitter (Is. 5:20)!
Isaiah denounces the Israelites for a variety of things in
his long and very specific book. In his fifth chapter, however, he describes
the very phenomenon I’m describing. The Israelites have watched their leaders do
evil things: greedily taking land and depriving the poor of their place in
Israel (5:8); a daily pursuit of drunkenness (5:11); disregard for God’s teachings
(5:12); and a corrupt legal system (5:23). I say “leaders,” here, because these
are not actions common people could take, because in ancient agrarian societies
common people subsisted on too little to commit most of the crimes listed
in Isaiah’s prophetic tirade. And yet, Isaiah announces condemnation for the whole
nation: “Therefore my people go into exile without knowledge;
their nobles are dying of hunger, and their multitude is parched with thirst” (5:13).
Ordinary Israelites gave their leaders a blank check by defending
their evil actions, passing darkness off as light. Doing so created a rupture
in their own relationship with God. That’s what the exile was, after all, a recognition
of the fissure Israel’s sin had opened between their nation and God. They
wandered away, trading light for darkness and good for evil.
And so, here we sit in an era not so far removed from the
days of Isaiah. We too find ourselves defending immorality, only with sleek
keyboards instead of scribbles on scrolls. And I think we too are experiencing
a fissure, one that may yet be unconscious, between ourselves and our God who
delights in justice and righteousness.
Might we return to a place where our lips and typing fingers
defend what is good? I understand that we live in a society nearly bereft of
truly good politicians and that many of us feel obligated to throw in with candidates
and parties who we feel are lesser evils. Therefore, I’m not saying we have to
vote for perfect people. Voting isn’t really in my view here at all. Vote your
conscience, but if your candidate or party of choice turns tail on what is good,
do not raise your ire in defense. For that is a very dangerous road.[2]
Instead, let us pursue a slowness toward anger and
defensiveness at each week’s political upheaval. Let us ask the cheesy, but
correct question: what does Jesus think about this? What might he say? What has
he already said? And how might I follow him?
[1] It
isn’t lost on me that you’re bound to read this article and think I’m talking
about President Trump. Rest assured, whoever’s
immoral actions we choose to defend, we do so as a step away from the
trajectory of Christ. There’s a whole lot of that going around these days and
it is not a blindness unique to President Trump’s supporters. In matters of spiritual health, it is always far more beneficial to look inward and take stock of our own motives than to make a list of debts owed by our opponents.
[2] An
afterthought: consider the Father’s
stance toward the prodigal son. I’m not advocating a lack of compassion for
public figures who travel wayward roads (or non-famous people in our social
circles). Instead, like the Father, we must hold them in our hearts and prayers,
while we let them go where they choose, without going with them. And we hope
for a day of returning. It’s important to separate love from defense of action.
Love waits patiently, without harsh words, and allows self-determination. We
can remain in hopeful contact and redemptive connection with all types. Much of
my ministry career has taken me into the dark corners of other people’s addictions
and this is the paradoxically stark and subtle line I’ve tried to follow in
each case. If it's possible in those cases, then surely such a relationship can take shape in any situation.
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