Of monsoons, American idolatry and Interstate 70

Politics are a big interest of mine, yet I have been very deliberate to clutter this area with only things that are either of concern even for the Christian who isn’t into politics or those that would hold deeper intellectual cachet than the usual partisan tripe.

Well, take a look here.

It appears that Focus on the Family, aka the ministry political outreach group of Dr. James Dobson, have encouraged their supporters to “pray for torrential rainstorms” for the night of Obama’s speech tomorrow night (as it is to be held outdoors, at Denver’s Invesco Field at Mile High).

In their defense, Focus have come out and said that proclamation was intended to be “mildly amusing”.

The joke was lost on me.

Wanna know why?

Because vast swaths of Americans no doubt hold that God really does work that way with His creation, i.e., the only way poor old God would be able to get something done would be through the weather… as commanded by the fervent prayers from more of one group of people against another. (Think of it as a kid playing his aloof grandparents off one another to get around being grounded.)

In this sort of scheme, God becomes our Hit Man, Mob Guy, Messenger Boy, or Biggest Endorsement the Galaxy Has to Offer to Whomever Courts Him Best.

That also makes Him an idol.

Allow me to lay my cards on the table here openly and honestly.

Attempted humor or not, I find these guys’ sentiments vile, theologically bollicksed and despicable.

The God of whom they supposedly speak is a) not at our whims and b) smart enough to reveal Himself in ways that no phalanx of political hacks can pat themselves on the back for provoking.

Demographers and other people-qualified-to-speak-on-such-things say that the younger generation of thinking evangelicals (the age group of pretty much everyone that reads this blog, I’m pretty sure) are turning away from the GOP in droves and are growing to repudiate them entirely.

May I present to you Exhibit A.

Obama and the Black Hole Son

As sleep began to gain the upper hand last night, my mind was carried aloft by that classic party-stopper, “how can a Christian vote for someone who is pro-abortion?” As has more than once in my world proven the case, this is an issue with which we Christian folk think and communicate with an incredible amount of zeal. And not without reason!

If you made it past the word “abortion,” allow me to posit a wider, perhaps more refined way of thinking about not only politics, but our entire world.

I dredged up Col. 1:15-17 for you so you wouldn’t have to look it up:

The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.
For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him.
He is before all things, and in him all things hold together

We sell God’s creation short when we settle for simple explanations of God’s role in the issues of our day, ones that easily surrender to talk of where God isn’t or even can’t be.

As you think about that, let me toss this your way: what if one were to say, based on the famous passage in Leviticus 18, that the entire Bible is about human sexuality and right relations betwixt the genders? Or that the entire Bill of Rights was about the importance of the Third Amendment, which can be used as a check on the power of the federal government’s ability to interfere in citizens’ private affairs and property? Would not either of those perspectives do extraordinary violence to the content, the history, the origins, the authors, etc. associated with those works?

Both of those situations above (which, if you’ll allow your mind just the barest liberty, you’ll no doubt see scenarios in which people would argue those perspectives very well) are what I would call an “adventure in missing the point”.¹

As we discuss “the point” as Christians, we find ourselves in an interesting quandry. Revisit the wideness of the language used above in Colossians: phrases like “all things,” “all creation” and that list comprised of “heavenly things…” to “… earthly authorities.” Surely you won’t object to my saying that Paul meant this list to be exhaustive!

So then, what is “the point”?

Guess what: no answer here.

Here’s what I will tell you though. If in fact all of this high and exalted language of Christ is true, if indeed he is in, before, transcendent and in the midst of “all things,” then such a figure as our exalted Savior in all his transcendent glory should be as frequent an informer as possible to the world of the Christian. In the very midst of the realities of the dirty and the pure, the complex and the simple, the amenable and the lamentable alike, we should seek out and apply that depth, majesty and wisdom.

So then, when we presume to have the “Christian perspective” on something, or to speak “as a representative of Christianity,” let’s make sure we’re taking into account the majesty, the awesomeness, and “all-ness” of Christ. Let’s make sure we aren’t settling for something that isn’t real.

Let’s err on the side of humility.

I don’t know about you, but I’m just not smart enough, holy enough, wise enough, or familiar enough with the Scriptures to say with confidence which candidate, and for what reasons, God is “for” or “against”.

If what Colossians says of Him is true, then I’ll bet He’s got a way to make one vote count for both anyway.

1 I actually first heard this phrase as the title of a McLaren book; haven’t read it.

Stop me if you’ve heard this before…

So, it happened again. Just as I was starting to think that particular sport’s season had passed, I got ambushed by a parent today at work about… wait for it… my Obama sticker.

Now I’ve grown well accustomed to this by now, having been regularly fragged, accosted and prodded over it. I rehearse my arguments in my head during traffic jams and have talked through most of it with friends and roommates. I’m about halfway through his second book, and am as impressed as ever with him.

I heard something today though that I thought was worth your time, however.

SCENE: Dixon Mr. Parnell is running along, minding his own business (well, actually that of the 12 or so 7th grade boys under his care at the Lower School), when an older patron whom he’d never seen prior tosses out something to the effect of, ’so, you gonna tell me how you can support someone so liberal?’.

Pleasant enough of an introduction, right?

So we do our little dance, me quite obviously a bit more practiced when it came to talking with folks with whom I disagreed. I volleyed all her questions right back to her, respectfully, honestly, and with even a pinch or two of humility. But just like that nurse asking you those interminable questions when you give blood, I could tell that her ears and mind were programmed to only spin awake when she heard very specific answers to very specific questions.

Well, I wasn’t giving them, as I just don’t do simple answers anymore when it comes to talking politics.

I couldn’t give her a soundbite for the abortion question, besides to acknowledge how impressed I was with Obama as a political figure, yet that the abortion issue too haunted me.

I couldn’t give her a soundbite for the ”what about his pastor’s comments?” question, besides to acknowledge (just as Obama has) how reprehensible some of the things he said were.

I was able, however, to laugh as she and her fellow interlocutor asked me how I was okay with “his dealings with Muslims and his Islamic background”. I’ve done enough homework to where at least I don’t have to punt on that one. (She promised to get me The Email that would enlighten me.)  

The part I thought was worth sharing with you, though, came like this. The woman began assailing me over Obama’s so-called lack of governing experience. Now just last week I finished an excellent biography of John F. Kennedy. He dealt with those exact same charges with characteristic aplomb, saying that there was “no school for learning how to be President, either”. I related this to her, but she seemed unimpressed.

Our conversation continued for a bit longer, and after a while I made another Kennedy allusion of some sort.

Our dialogue finished there, with her saying, “Yeah, but Kennedy was as liberal as Osama!”

As a sometime student of Islamic extremism, I chortled aloud at that and felt entirely justified in doing so-there is a place for discussion, and there is a place for dialogue, especially during political season at a Christian school. When unbridled, proud ignorance creeps into one of these conversations, I’m cool with shooing it aside for what it is. (Remember, I spend my days with 7th and 8th graders.)

I tried to tell her that bin Laden was as far on her side of what she’d recognize as “conservative” as they came, and about the time my mind really geared up for that particular discussion, she ended things by saying, ”well, I’ve got to run, but we’ll talk about this again, and I’m praying for you!“.

I smiled, we parted ways, and the scene was done.

I’m sure you’ve noticed before how much simpler the world is when you’ve only got two colors: black and white. And I’m sure you can understand the comfort you find in there being only two labels within which you can organize that world: “liberal” or “conservative”. And I’m sure you can realize how much more faithful God is to follow the script you write if you protect it from all but two or three themes.

Stop me if you’ve heard any of this before.   

Why I am not a Christian

I knew it was inevitable, but sure enough today it happened.

I was publicly accosted about my Barack Obama bumper sticker.

I handled myself well, didn’t say anything rude or trite. Don’t feel like I came off as smug, arrogant, or anything else the encyclopedias say about the species of people-who-don’t-vote-Republican.

As I walked in to the Pizza Inn where I did lunch I noticed that my eventual interlocutor had a Huckabee sticker on her car right next to a sticker promoting the very school where I teach.

The exchange went something like this, as I was getting in my car and she had just gotten in hers:

Mom: “Are you really an Obama person?”

Dixon: “Yes ma’am, I am.”

M: “Ohhh,” (worried tone in her voice, as if I’d just gotten a payday advance or taken up smoking) “have you really looked into his policies? I mean, he’s pro-abortion, he’s pro-gay marriage, his tax plan is really anti-family. Are you a Christian?”

D: “Yes ma’am, I am.”

M: (look on her face of bumfuzzlement not dissimilar to that of a newlywed confronted with a sleepwalking spouse) “Well, as a Christian person I don’t really see how you can be. Have you looked into what he’s proposing? I really think you should.”

D: “Yes ma’am, I have and I will.”

M: “Ooookaaaay” (with tone in her voice like that of a doctor who knows the clock’s tickin’ for you, and sympathizes, but can offer you only hope in God’s mercy).

Of course, there was more. As she was talking, my mind jumped straight to ‘wait till I tell my roommate about this!’, so I about all I remember are the highlights. I wasn’t shaken up by it at all, and in hindsight here are a few of the things I’ll say next time we meet:

“Yes ma’am, I am a Christian, and in fact, I teach at the very school you send your kids. Please don’t have me fired!”

“Yes ma’am, well Senator Obama is anti-Iraq War, and that’s pro-life enough for me.”

“Yes ma’am, I’m voting for Obama and yes ma’am, it’s just like you think: I hate babies, embrace terror and think ‘progress’ should be enshrined, deified and permanently capitalized.”

About halfway home it formulated in my mind that who’s gonna get your vote depends on who your pope is. It’s easy for me to vote for a politician who may not be my sort of Christian, or might not even be a Christian at all, because I’m not voting for pope; I’m voting for the head of my “this world” government.

I’m not voting for a pastor.

I’m not voting for any officer of the seminary I attend.

I’m not voting for the head of the elder board.

Jesus’ lordship over my life and our world is safe, regardless of who old Screwface may or may not slide in there on us.

I’m increasingly noticing in my life that all victories, or even tasks you want completed, are functions of your expectations going in. My president is someone whose character, job performance, and virtue I’ll judge not by a religious rubric (just like my mayor or the police chief) but on governmental, secular, corporate/political terms. Out-of-place religious baggage removed then, it is far easier to think clearheaded about who will do the best job legislating, avoiding wars, and smiling most broadly when the “Star Spangled Banner” is played.

Since I’m voting for Obama, and not a Republican, I’m guessing that’s why I am not a Christian to this lady.

All jokes aside-aren’t you glad God’s not really like that?