Some people have a vision for leadership. Some people seem to be born for politics. Other people are thrust into the spot-light because their sister drives the political machine. Linus Van Pelt entered the political arena because his sister talked him into running for school president.
After Linus made Charlie Brown his running mate, he began campaigning. He promised that under his administration he would do away with Kindergarten “Cap & Gown” graduations and sixth grade parties. He vowed wage increases for custodians, teachers, and administrators. Most importantly, he guaranteed that any dog wandering onto the playground would be welcomed with open arms; yea, he solidified Snoopy’s vote with that one.
Leading up to the final speech, Linus was climbing in the polls, even if Lucy was strong-arming the voters; victory was all but assured. Nothing was going to stop him from claiming the race, that is, until he felt compelled to witness to the crowd about the Great Pumpkin. Suddenly, like a train derailment, the momentum came to a screeching halt. Snoopy’s commentary was on target, “If you’re going to hope to get elected, don’t mention the ‘Great Pumpkin.’”
The mixture of religion and politics is always combustible, if not toxic. When the church looks to flawed men and government to move its agenda forward, truth is the first casualty. Right behind truth is integrity, which its corporate identity is sacrificed for the political cause. It seems that the agenda must be defended by the Christian community at all costs; the “at all cost” part is particularly disturbing. For what end will the church go to protect and to project its own agenda? Who will the church be willing to endorse as a candidate in the pursuit of its own cause?
The Scriptures of the first century were far from neutral on the relationship between God’s Kingdom and Man’s Kingdom. First, we never find Jesus, nor the Apostles, campaigning for a civic leader or a government official. The Jewish and Roman government became the means by which Jesus, Peter, and Paul were executed. Jesus taught that the government deserves its fair share of taxes (Mk. 12:13-17), and both Paul and Peter called us to “submit” to rulers and the government (Rom. 13:1-7; 1 Pet. 2:13-17), as opposed to “support” a candidate. Nowhere does Scripture teach Christians to embrace national loyalty. In fact our primary loyalty to the Kingdom of God must take precedent over any loyalties to earthly kingdoms (Phil. 4:20-21).
Secondly, by the time John writes Revelation, the situation with the Roman government had changed. The dominate image running through its pages is a slaughtered lamb (Rev. 5:6), which seems appropriate. The church was facing persecution (Rev. 2:3, 10, 13), some of which arose from the Jewish sector, but most originated from Rome. Since Jesus was crucified by the Roman Empire, he, through John’s revelation, appears to call Rome to accountability by way of a lamb (Rev. 18). As my friend, Greg Stevenson, said, “Revelation was written, in part, to those who felt a little too comfortable with the Roman government” (see his book, A Slaughtered Lamb). If he’s right, those advocating a national Christian faith may need to take another look at John’s Apocalypse.
Politics does nothing to unite brothers and sisters, but continues to provide another wedge, or a means to sow seeds of distrust among the saints. Denominational loyalties have been successful at creating division instead of unity, as when Charlie Brown and Linus argued over Santa Claus verses the Great Pumpkin. Charlie Brown summed it up best, “We’re obviously separated over denominational loyalties.” All the arguing over candidates creates more division in an already divided nation. And if the nation is divided, can the church rooted in the nation ever find unity? Can we unite in spite of the politics forcing us to divide? It’s why David Lipscomb emerged as a pacifist; he wept over good Christian men killing each other in the name of God during the Civil War. I’m witnessing the same thing today, only instead of guns it’s with words and the battlefield is social media.
I grew up with a high appreciation for our nation, and my parents taught me to respect the Flag and the President. I admire the Founding Fathers and their courage to sign the Declaration of Independence. I love the 4th of July with the fireworks, patriotic music and cookouts. As a senior in high school, I represented the United States in a cross country meet in Taiwan, and wearing the red singlet with white lettering that said “U.S.A.” on it was the closest I ever came to my dream of running for the United States in the Olympics. As a BSA Scout leader at various levels, I could not be more proud that my two sons are Eagle Scouts. I’ve stood for the National Anthem and knelt at the cross. But if I have to choose between either standing before the flag or kneeling before the cross, the choice is clear. I choose the cross.
I fear that the Church has blurred the lines between two kingdoms: Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of Men (i.e. any government or government organization). We’ve trusted the State to make laws based on our faith, and to have the integrity to live by those laws. We’ve believed the government to speak for and on behalf of the Church, and to protect the rights of Christians everywhere. We’ve assumed that a faith-based government will produce and support a faith-based society. We’ve denied or minimized times when America has acted in ways that have shamed Christians and the Christian faith, while the ungodliness of elected officials continues without being held into account. More so, we’ve failed to comprehend how a philosophical shift has taken place in our society that longer asks what it means for the Bible to guide our paths.
In the TV special, “You’re Not Elected, Charlie Brown,” based on the 1964 comic strip, Linus wins the election because his opponent cast the last and deciding vote. He does so for Linus. In his opinion Linus was the better man. If only, given our current political environment, we could see those who disagreed with us as the better men/women.
bonum dolar!
(i.e., Good Grief!)