It Is Still Up

It is still up. That sign. A kind of conflation of faith and politics that is at the heart of the church’s current challenge to have a voice in healing the cultural wounds around us, infected with the pus of untreated infections long ignored and moving toward gangrene. 

That sign has been in the front yard of a house in the neighborhood where I walk every day since October. A few days before Christmas, it was taken down, and I said a prayer of thanksgiving as I walked by. There were still two big banners reading “TRUMP” on either side of the front door, but at least the lumping of Jesus and Trump (or any politician) on the same banner was gone. For me, the issue isn’t that the sign promotes Trump (or any politician; I’m not taking sides here), but that the sign seems to put Jesus on the same level as Trump.

Once all the ruckus in Georgia about voter fraud started showing up on the news every night, the sign reappeared. Most of the politicians who represent me in state and federal government were posting and speaking about the supposed fraud and incompetence of the Georgia Secretary of State, Brad Raffensperger. None of them were mentioning the fact that judge after judge, more than a few appointed by Trump, were dismissing court cases due to lack of evidence. All of them tend to promote themselves as “people of faith.” This sign seems to reflect their worldview.

I walked early on Wednesday, before the events in our nation’s Capitol took place. The sign, of course, was still up. On Thursday, it was well after lunch before I could break away for my walk. I was hoping the sign would finally be taken down. Surely no one wants to suggest that Jesus approves of what happened in Washington on Wednesday.

But, alas, it is still up. That sign.

I’m no fan of Nancy Pelosi, but I must say that seeing some thug sitting in her office chair behind her desk with his feet propped up on the desk was nauseating. Seeing signs like “Jesus Saves,” “Jesus,” and “Jesus 2020” being carried by the mobsters was even more nauseating. Immediately, I began to wonder how the Capitol Police would have responded had this been a group of people of color and not mostly white. That should give pause to any thoughtful person. How did it come to this?

It is unlikely that I’m smart enough to fully answer that question. But I know a part of the answer has to do with the idea of truth. Telling the truth, to be specific. 

Lots of people on the political right would love for the Ten Commandments to be hung in every courthouse, every school building, and on the public squares of every town. I had another neighbor once who never went to church, but during every election cycle, would put a sign in his front yard with the Ten Commandments and signs supporting politicians on the right. But that’s a story for another day.

I wonder if the politicians who want the Ten Commandments to show up everywhere are aware that one of those famous ten says, “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.” (Exodus 20:16) Or, to take that a step further, I wonder if they are aware that the Jesus they call their Savior said, “Let your statement be ‘Yes, yes’ or ‘No, no’; anything beyond that is of evil.” (Matthew 5:33-17)

Whatever else that statement from Jesus might imply, it is rooted deeply in the idea of truth and honesty. We live in a system that has worked pretty well since the Constitution was approved by the delegates to the Constitutional Convention on September 17, 1787, which became official when New Hampshire became the ninth state to ratify it on June 21, 1788. Obviously, it isn’t perfect and hasn’t worked perfectly. But over the long haul, it has enabled these United States to function in ways that have become the envy of most of the world.

Courts established by that Constitution, as well as state courts established in ways consistent with that Constitution, have repeatedly declared that they have seen no evidence of fraud. Knowing that reality, I can either accept the judgment of the courts until such time as other evidence is shown, or I can shout lie after lie after lie about fraud, whip a crowd of folks who already feel alienated from mainstream culture into a frenzy, and experience the chaos of Wednesday. 

One need not be a genius to determine which of those alternatives is best suited for the stability of our government, our culture, and in many ways, our world, and which is most consistent with the Prince of Peace who called us to be peacemakers. Notice it is peacemakers, not just peace keepers, in Matthew 5:9.

The unique place of American democracy and justice became a place of horror, to a large extent because of lies.

Yet politicians, from the current president to local legislators, insisted that there was fraud, viciously attacked officials who said there wasn’t, and ignored the judgments of state and federal courts. All of this resulted in what the world witnessed Wednesday. The unique place of American democracy and justice became a place of horror, to a large extent because of lies. Or, to use Ten Commandment words, “bearing false witness against our neighbors.” 

While it was much too little and way too late, I will give the President credit for saying on Thursday what he should have said in November. Good hindsight, however, is hardly what is needed to be a good leader. I will even give a nod to Lindsey Graham, a perpetuator of much of the “bearing false witness” stuff that has been going on since November, for finally saying in the Senate Wednesday night something to the effect of, “I’m done with this guy.” 

But my state and federal representatives remain mum. None has posted a word condemning the chaos and insurrection that went on in Washington on Wednesday. They have spoken openly about accusations of fraud in the election, but not a word that I’ve been able to find on social media condemning the behavior that has not only embarrassed our nation and its claims to be the world’s most pro-democracy country, but has likely also put us all at risk with regard to national security. 

Yet when it came to alleged election fraud, in some cases, they viciously attacked Secretary Raffensperger and his office, and even Governor Brian Kemp. It is theoretically possible there was fraud – and if so, there are legitimate ways to address that, starting with presenting evidence that can withstand review by the courts. But Wednesday’s events weren’t theoretical; we all watched it happen live on the screens in our homes. The silence I hear is both disturbing and deafening.

I don’t mean this to be political in the sense that one side is good and the other is bad. The truth is that I’ve voted for far more Republicans over the years, since I started voting in 1972 by voting for Richard Nixon for president, than I have Democrats. More often than I can count, I’ve either not voted for an office at all, because both sides were so offensive to my values, or I’ve written in names of people I know who would be better at the job than either candidate, even though they had no chance of winning. 

So these are not the words of some far-left Democrat who sees a crisis too good to ignore. These are the words of a follower of Jesus who is sick and tired of Jesus and His gospel being victimized by political power grabs from people who assume Jesus would be hanging out with them in their halls of power and wealth instead of amongst the poor, the homeless, the hungry, the imprisoned, the sufferers of injustice, and a host of other people whose real needs get ignored in the battle to imprison Jesus in our political values instead of letting Him shape our political values.

I’m confident Jesus might be saying to us right now, “The time is fulfilled. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe the good news.” (Mark 1:14,15)