My Election Season Manifesto

OK, I admit it. Sometimes I hate being a pastor.

Why?

Because sometimes I just can’t say the things I want to say.

There are times, for instance, when I’d love to jump into the political foray.  But here’s the thing. America right now is a deeply divided nation. About half of us lean liberal, and half of us lean conservative. So if I come down on one side or the other, I give about half the people in the country an excuse to stop listening. That’s the mistake the Episcopal Church has made. In the end, our staggering decline may be as simple as over indentifying with a political position. For a church that prides itself on being welcoming, that sure leaves a lot of people out.

I believe the larger message of the Gospel—that we need to love God and each other and treat all people right—is too important for that. In other words, if I am to exercise the kind of love Jesus commends to his followers, then I need to consider how my words and actions will effect others—especially those who are different from me. If those words are hurtful for the purpose of furthering my own cause, getting attention, somehow boosting my own ego, or allaying my own insecurities, then I need to value my brothers and sisters highly enough to find a better way ahead.

This doesn’t mean we don’t weigh in with our view of things. It does mean that there is a thoughtful, kind, and respectful way of doing so that is increasingly absent in America right now (and certainly on Facebook). Actually, I love being a pastor, because when I am true to my calling it forces me to speak and act from the perspective of putting others before myself (although I don’t always succeed in this, obviously).

The fictional narratives of both political parties not withstanding, life is complex.  There are two sides to everything, and it’s the wise person who sees that instead of using the party line as an excuse to stop thinking, whatever your party may be.

There is always a reason people believe what they do, no matter how wrong-headed it may be,  and it is the loving person who remembers that.  As a pastor, I can tell you that nine times out of ten, that reason can be traced to people who have hurt them.  This does not justify a belief that is wrong, but if we are ever going to really change it—instead of making ourselves feel superior, witty, and brilliant—we must first understand why they see the world as they do.  Then we must stand with that person in their pain, whatever is causing it.  Perhaps then, together, they will be able to walk out of it.

Maybe during an election year we’d all do well to pray the prayer of St. Francis every day. Maybe we’d do well to post it on our keyboards. From my perspective, at least, St. Francis--like Jesus before him--had it right.

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

Comments

[Katt Hancher]

Amen.

[Elly Hilz]

Amen! Very well put.

[Kenbergner214]

I think this is a wonderful glossing over of some important truths. Truth number 1: There are some absolutes. To simply say that people feel the way they do because someone has hurt them is to say that they are wrong for (possibly) the right reasons. But it ignores the possilbity that they may be right for right reasons.

My nephew, who I love very much, is gay. Naturally he believes in Gay Marriage and a host of other things (such as abortion) that I, frankly, disagree with. I was not hurt by a gay person. I was not aborted. I just see the obvious truths of creation and scripture and acknowledge that God's creational order indicates that marriage between male and female is the natural and intended order of things.

Similarly, abortion is clearly the termination of life (early life, but life none the less). And if life is sacred, created by God, then we are killing millions of his creations for our own selfish convenience alone. To me, this is an obvious absoloute. There is no glossing over the truth by simply saying I feel this way because I was hurt by an abortionist or whatever.

Mind you, I am outspoken because I think it is equally as selfish to take the safe and painless path of quietude on certain subjects. I could care less if the Jets win in OT, but where faith in our Creator God is concerned, well, that gets personal for reasons other than "someone hurt me".

It was a nice sentimant though.

[Cephas]

I need to consider how my words and actions will effect others—especially those who are different from me.”
“If they hate you, know that they hated me first.” It’s not us they hate, but Christ who we preach. If you preach Christ, don’t worry: he won’t deny you before men. But if you consider how your words and actions will effect others, and you let it sway your testimony, he will also deny you before his heavenly Father.

"This does not justify a belief that is wrong, but if we are ever going to really change it—instead of making ourselves feel superior, witty, and brilliant—we must first understand why they see the world as they do. Then we must stand with that person in their pain, whatever is causing it. Perhaps then, together, they will be able to walk out of it."
- Well put! but let's beware not to stand with them and enter damnation for the sake of friendship. God is very clear: "if you love me, you will keep my commandments" and "your brothers blood cries to me from the ground". No matter how broken and hurt others may be, we cannot allow them to be hurt even worse because we're afraid to compassionately shoulder them towards the tough decisions of seeking the forgiveness and mercy of God. All are broken, but repentence belongs to those who seek it sincerely.