The High School Sunday School class that I lead has been working through a series on Faith and Politics in the lead-up to and, now, fallout from the recent election. A few weeks ago, the class session was focused on exploring the differences and tensions between the “Kin(g)dom of God” and the political systems of our day. One activity we did to explore this topic was a spectrum exercise where I read a statement and had the class place themselves somewhere in the room along a spectrum of “highly agree” to “highly disagree.”
One of the questions prompted some especially good discussion from the group. I asked them to place themselves in the room in response to the following: Christians are obligated to vote.
Many of the other prompts elicited mass movements from one side of the room to the other, but this prompt gave the group pause, and most ended up somewhere toward the middle of the room. The discussion that ensued showed that the group generally agreed that voting was a good thing to do but didn’t necessarily think it was a “Christian obligation,” with some tipping slightly more toward agree and some slightly more toward disagree.
Personally, I think the group was right on track with these responses, though I would likely place myself slightly more toward agree than most of them. It is not that I think voting is a sacred and holy act unto itself, but I see participation in the voting process as one way–albeit a small way–that we claim and use the power we have to help create a world that reflects our deeply held values. No candidate for office or ballot initiative will ever be able to fully live up to those values or usher in the Beloved Community on their own, but I do believe that Christ calls us to use whatever power we do have in ways that help move us closer to that kin-dom.
Many of us find ourselves grieving at the results of the election because they represent a clear move away from some of our most deeply held values. As Joel wrote last week, many of us find ourselves “dis-illusioned” to a world where we can finally see clearly the hard truths of this nation. Many of us find ourselves afraid of what the new administration might mean for the bodily autonomy of women and girls, the recognition of queer relationships and identities, the devastating effects on immigrants and people of color, or any of the other unknowns about what new policies might be put in place.
But we must not forget that the exercise of power through voting is not the only power we hold. The power of Christ “wielded” by the Church has always been at its best a bottom-up, relational kind of power; mustard seed power that grows from small humble beginnings but quickly takes root and grows like a pesky weed.
There are a lot of unknowns about what the next months and years will hold, but I see it as an opportunity for our congregation to lean into our deeply held values by finding new ways to use our power to create a world that reflects those values.
This could mean preparing our physical spaces to once again stand with immigrants by offering sanctuary. This could look like marching in the streets, using the power of our bodies to disrupt untenable policies. This could look like using the power of our voices and our words to reaffirm the worth and dignity of those whose identities may be put under attack. This could look like using the power of our financial resources to support organizations that are doing good work in our communities. This could look like using the power of our presence and time to commit more deeply to building community with those around us, resisting the isolating effects of a system that wants to entrench an “us” versus “them” mentality.
No elected official or governmental system can completely strip us of our power to love as Christ loved. So let us grieve what needs to be grieved. Let us look clearly at what has been dis-illusioned for us about the world. But then, when we are ready, let us also find new ways to use whatever power we have to be what the Church has always been called to be.
So I turn this back to you: How can we be the Church right now? What spaces do you need us to be holding? What preparations should we be making? What sources of power do you imagine us using now and in the future? Please feel free to respond to this email or reach out in other ways if you would like to continue this conversation with myself or others in the congregation.
