The season does admittedly have its down side. The mail is filled with propaganda and political pitches from hopeful candidates and optimistic fundraisers, but I guess that's okay. It does, after all, create jobs for the folks who sort the recycling.
I sense, though, that some of my friends are not enjoying the season. It has something to do with the coming election, which is admittedly a strange one. The good news is that soon it will all be over. In four short weeks we will wake up, and the election will be history. There are quite civilized nations in this world that, were they holding an election in four weeks, would only now be launching the campaigns, and it would be incomprehensible to think of who might run four years later. Here it seems we launch our campaigns early enough to be able to land settlers on Saturn before the election takes place. And in this particular election season, there is no shortage of folks who would just as soon settle for Saturn as for either of the two major candidates.
Yesterday Valerie and I meandered through the Cascades to Leavenworth and back. We didn't talk about the election and generally ignored the occasional political poster. It was a good day. Mind you, we didn't escape completely. There was, after all, that window display of both Donald and Hillary with a sign that said "I already hate our next President."
Strangely, it seems to me, many of my fellow-evangelical friends have embraced this season with a gusto that has them burdened by the fear that one or the other (or both) of the major candidates will create irreversible chaos for the nation in general and Christians in particular. Some have confused the concepts of spiritual and political loyalty, or perhaps see no difference between them, and they have invested Donald and/or Hillary with greater power to shape the future than God himself. It is inevitable that four weeks from today, some of them will be severely disappointed, and the burden will be heavier. To paraphrase that famous poem about Casey, there will be no joy in Mudville, for mighty (fill in the name of your candidate) has struck out.
To the distress of some of my friends, I have chosen not to be burdened with care about who is elected President. Neither major candidate comes close to reflecting my values. Yes, you read that correctly. I have chosen not to care. Let me explain because I think my choice is a thoroughly biblical one. I am certainly concerned about this country that my parents adopted when I was a child. I'm concerned enough to pray, concerned enough to weep, and concerned enough to trust God for its future and mine instead of being burdened with care. And I'm concerned enough to wonder why so many Christians have opted to invest more in political polarization for a candidate that doesn't reflect their values than they invest in prayer. It strikes me as a strange choice.
I accept my responsibility to a nation that is mine by choice to seek its good no matter who leads it, but I will seek God's kingdom first. I think that means I need to pray for whoever leads this nation. But I'm not going to care; God can handle that, and he has said that he will. It is more important that I seek first His kingdom, which, everybody else's Facebook posts aside, is different from seeking Trump's or Clinton's or any other candidate's.
Whatever I awaken to on November 9, some things won't change. I expect the mountains will still be there. The leaves will still change color in the fall. And God will still be God. He will still continue to build his kingdom, an endeavor He can accomplish purely apart from politics and to which he invites our involvement.
It will still be a great time for my journey, and the destination won't have changed.
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