A new approach to politics

Two stories.  I am the goof in both.  The second happened a few years ago while I lived in Vancouver.  The first was a few years before that while I lived in McAdam, NB.

The first story takes place while I was travelling on a Sunday and attending a church that was not my own.  In the pew ahead of me was a familiar face, though the owner of the face would not have any idea who I was.  I only knew her because she was on TV quite often.  She was an MP and happened to belong to a party that I do not support in most instances.  In fact, this MP also made a few recent statements that irritated me, so I was not overly fond of her in particular.  I was a loud and boorish 20-something and everyone I met would eventually find out my thoughts about her, her opinions, and her party.  That Sunday, however, I was completely speechless.  The communion plates were in front of the sanctuary.  As I sat there, readying myself to eat the body and drink the blood of my God, I became uncomfortably aware that this woman – at her very core – is not a politician who bothers me.  She is my sister in Christ.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

The second story is set in a pub in Vancouver called The Wolf and Hound.  It is a fine establishment on West 10th.  A friend and I were sitting on the patio and he asked me about someone who died.  I was a bit choked up.  I expressed my admiration for the person in question.  This man was going to fix our problems.  He was going to take everything that was wrong and he was going to make it right.  He was so close to doing so a few months before and he was supposed to get another chance a few years from now.  Instead, he was dead and we were left with nothing.  We certainly had no more hope, even though he told us that hope was better than fear.  The entire time I spoke to my friend, the words were sounding familiar and I could not figure out why.  I realized it a few weeks later.  I sounded very much like the men on the road to Emmaus when they spoke about Jesus near the end of Luke’s gospel.  I was not talking about Jesus at the pub, however.  I was taking about Jack Layton, who had died a few days earlier.  It was not my intent but I elevated the late opposition leader to the role of saviour.  Without intent, but done none the less.

In both cases I was definitely wrong and most probably sinful.  I talked of one politician as if she were less than human.  I talked of another as if he were more.  Neither statement could possibly point people to Jesus.

As these stories and my reaction to them indicate, I am religious.  I hold my faith tightly.  It is the lens that I see the world through.  I value theology as it helps me to better understand the God I love and follow.  I value the church because it forces me into community, which helps me to see that what I believe is something lived.  Religion and theology exist in the good and bad bits of life.  They do not start and stop on my bookshelf.  I value the knowledge that something bigger than me exists, which helps me to realize that my point of view isn’t the only thing that matters when I make a choice (in fact, it might not matter at all).  I believe that “something” is in fact a Someone, the resurrected Christ, Jesus.  I am not simply religious then.  I am a Christian.

For many years I have attempted to balance faith and politics.  This balance is a struggle.  The slightest tweak can knock down the house of cards of religion and politics that I built.  My past is littered with things I used to help keep the balance.  There is not a major political party in Canada that I have not voted for, either provincially or federally.  Every time I voted I was convinced that I voted for the only candidate possible.  I read a lot of political news and try to vary my sources, although a couple of voices dominate in Canada making variety often difficult.  I also have read all or part of several books, blog posts, and articles about the intersection of faith and politics.  The struggle remains.

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I wonder if the struggle remains because I should not even be struggling.  Maybe my perspective has not changed like I would like it to because I am still looking through the wrong lens.  Looking at my political past, it is obvious to me that I put politics and faith on the same level in my worldview formation.  This has allowed politics to shape what I think about Jesus.  This is a problem.      

Talking of my political past may be a bit of a misnomer.  I have never run for office.  I am not a party member.  I am simply a citizen and this is how I try to write and who I try to write to, rather than to candidates or representatives.  My hope is only to be part of the conversation with regular, every day Canadians as an election looms, particularly with Christians because that is also how I write. 

I do vote.  I also continue to criticise and to compliment specific politicians and specific ideologies.  In my view, doing so is more than my right or my privilege – it is my responsibility as a citizen in a democracy.  However, while exercising this right and fulfilling this responsibility are important, they are not ultimate.  Pointing to Jesus is my primary purpose as a Christ-follower.  The image of God is stamped on my being.  I destroyed that image.  Jesus restored it.  I must, therefore, reflect God’s image to the rest of creation, not least to my fellow people.  Reflection is why I was created.  Ideology is not. 

I can truly say I am neither a liberal nor a conservative, neither a progressive nor a traditionalist, neither neutral nor partisan.  These are all political words and I will no longer allow them to shape my worldview.  I am a Christian and I approach the world through this lens.   

All of this to say that element one of the approach to politics that I now take is to watch my language and to order my words properly.  I am a Christian first.  I am a Canadian second. 

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If I vote, I compromise.  I have zero choice in that.  There is not a political party in Canada that matches my (admittedly imperfect) code of ethics or my (again imperfect) view of the Kingdom of God with absolute symmetry.  Incidentally, none of the major parties are so far gone that I would say that I can never vote in their favour or at the very least agree with them on a particular issue.  As much as I hate to say it, I will have to plug my nose a bit when I vote in October.  It is just the way it is.  In my riding, the candidates are imperfect human beings.  That is true for you too.  I have no choice but to vote for someone that will screw something up at some point and will make a decision that offends me at another point.  We do no one – least of all the church – any favours by pretending that our guy is always a hero and that everyone else is always a jackass. 

Voting for someone in October does not mean I endorse everything they do.  It does mean, of my options at the time, this choice is the closest to what I think is the ideal.  One of my professors in seminary told us that we should be able to take a pen when we are reading a book (except the Bible) and write “yes” in the margins twice and “no” in the margins twice.  I think this is probably as accurate for political platforms as it is for books.  In fact, I would have a hard time viewing someone else’s opinion as much more than an advertisement if they will not criticize at least one idea from their own choice of candidate and compliment at least one idea from another.

Element two of my new approach to politics is seeing the candidates, both locally for MP and nationally for Prime Minister, as humans.  They are neither heroes nor villains.  They are neither angels nor devils.

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The third, and last, element of my new approach to politics flavours one and two.  I must remember why I was created and act accordingly. 

As a Christian, my first order of business is to bring glory to Jesus.  I was created to worship and to reflect God.  I was not created to make my opponent look like a fool.  Luke 6 explains how to love my enemy.  Surely, if an enemy gets this sort of treatment, a mere opponent is to be afforded at least this standard.  I was not created to prove a point or to really get one over on those darn Tories/Grits/Dippers/whatevers. 

Jesus puts a high command on his Kingdom subjects – love the Lord with all your heart and mind, and love your neighbour as yourself.  Simply put, my rights as a subject of Queen Elizabeth are not particularly important in this conversation.  I am also a subject of King Jesus.  If my response to a situation does not love God and neighbour then my rights are irrelevant because my response is not right.  As a political actor my role is to glorify God.  When I use the name of God I should only use it to glorify Him. I should not use it to score political points. 

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Democracy will still exist on October 20 and I am not saying we should not debate or even say our opponent is wrong if we see that he or she is wrong.  Pretending someone is not wrong purely to avoid hurt feelings is not love, at least not in the sense the Bible presents it.  When I speak about politics, then, I should speak in the same way as when I speak about anything else.  I should demonstrate patience and kindness.  My words should have no trace of jealousy or pride.  I should not be selfish, rude, or irritated.  I should neither hold on to a record of wrong doing nor should I excuse evil.  My talk should always be happy when I hear truth, regardless of the source.

Remember your name.  Remember our humanity.  Remember you’re created.