I don’t live in a swing state. I’m thankful for that.
I do live in a media market that borders a contested
state, which is bad enough. I’ve been
subjected to more than a bearable share of TV ads, radio commercials, mailers,
yard signs, and other political detritus.
I’ve been stunned by the pretension, the slander, the misrepresentation –
not just of their opponents position but of their own!
Yes, I’m thankful that I don’t live in a swing state.
But then again, I’m not.
Most peoptle are amazed and horrified to discover that a very
few states, even a very few counties in a very few states, get to decide the future. That there are so few places where elections
are actually contested. That, in the
end, so few votes really matter.
Not me. No, I’m
amazed and horrified that in the 21st Century, in the real world there
are so many places where there is no battle, where elections are not
contested, where most of the people think the same way and believe the same way
and vote the same way.
The election results show us to be a closely divided
nation. But the truth is, in most places
in this country, we are not divided at all.
Most red states are really, completely red. Many blue states are deeply blue. Rural areas are red. Urban areas are blue. White people are red. Everyone else is not.
This is not a good thing.
If this is a truly divided country, then it will be
difficult to heal that division when most of us live so far away from the dividing
line, when we are constantly confronted only by people on our own team, when we
only converse with people who think like ourselves, when we are not in any real
way exposed in some intimate fashion with ideas other than our own. How can we heal our differences unless we
connect to those who are different than us?
Who can admit that they are wrong when all of their neighbors say they
are right?
We have entrenched our divisions geographically,
racially, sexually. Anger will replace
concession, I fear. Injury will fuel intransigence. We will all crawl into our bunkers, load up
on canned goods and sharpen our weapons for the next battle.
And nothing will change.
Which is, on the other hand, a good thing.
Even in my despair I know
the one thing that truly never changes.
The God who is bigger than our fat, stubborn egos. That in the midst of our failures, our
faults, our stiff necks and our sin, God remains steadfast, merciful,
powerful. That in the midst of what is
merely the most recent breakdown of humanity, God’s will is still done, and we
are saved.
And that even our worst
will become the seed of the future.
"When pride comes,
then comes disgrace; but wisdom is with the humble." (Proverbs 11:2)
The gift of this election
is an offered moment to step back and see ourselves for what we are, to confess
the smallness of our dispute, to peer into the impending abyss and, horrified
and shamed, stop. Just stop. Maybe shut our mouths. Maybe fall to our knees. Maybe humbled, and, if even by accident,
discover the wisdom of our God.
And be covered by his grace
and be saved. From ourselves. For each other.
I vote for that.
