Politics and Love

Unless you live in a cave (without internet access, which means you wouldn’t be reading this anyway), you already know about the vote that changed the way America works.

It’s almost as if I’m in mourning.

And not because I think health care reform is a bad idea, or that the way America is going about it is incorrect, or that I’m going to have to pay more taxes, or that the government is taking away our freedoms.  I have no doubt that Jesus is for social justice (thank you, Mr. Beck, for the lunacy last week).  When Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full,” I’m quite certain he wasn’t speaking about going to heaven, but instead about the way we live life now.

And it’s not because I think the government is taking away the church’s right (responsibility?) to care for the less fortunate, or robbing us of our blessing, or imposing some sort of reform on the religious that removes “love” from the giving equation.

I’m most disappointed in this: that everyone thinks they’re right.

I have friends, very close friends, on both sides of the issue.  And what has become  apparent to me over the last 12 hours or so is that most of them are more concerned with who is right, who has the wittiest retort, or the most clever put-down.  Winning the argument means making the other side lose, putting them on the defensive, and making sure they feel cornered enough to spit venom in self-preservation.

And I guess winning arguments and being highly regarded in the eyes of people who agree with you is pretty important if you need to further an agenda or be on the right side of a political discussion.

…but not if you claim to know Jesus.  Since when is it more important to be right than to love well?

About 2000 years ago my friend Paul had some pretty profound words about how to interact with people:

“If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears.”

Maybe the idealist in me believes these words could still be true today.  But I’ve seen it work; it’s at the very heart of lives who call Jesus their “savior”.  It’s what softens attitudes, garners the most serious attention, and gives the most life.  It is what saves and what protects, what is nonsensical and beautiful, illogical and imperfect.  But love never fails.

Perhaps the most important thing to remember, at least for those of us who would call ourselves Christian, is not that health care reform, economic reform, or political reform will truly save anyone.  But love will.  The love Jesus gave and gives through his people can change the world.  At least that’s what Jesus thought.

I’m sure this sounds all-too simplistic.  I pray that it is.

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