






Are we listening to ourselves, friends?

Can we hear that our language is indistinguishable from the political hue and cry going on around us?

Do we notice that a third voice—a God-given perspective—is completely missing from a conversation where voices left and right have all the representation that they need?

Are we so hungry for relevance that we are willing to allow ourselves to be used as an instrument of party politics?

Have we forgotten that our communities include people who subscribe to both political parties?

Do we really believe that there are no Republicans who care about people?

Do we really believe that there are no Democrats who are not closet communists?

Do we really want to risk our relationships with people who belong to one party or the other, in the name of venting our emotions in public?

Can we be sure that we haven't already alienated some of those people?

Do we really believe that by labeling and libeling people that we illuminate the truth?

This is not prophetic speech. It is not speaking truth to power. It is not persuasive. And it does not make the church more relevant to the political process. In fact, it makes it possible to dismiss Christians as a subset of political opinion left and right  -- people with quaint motives for being involved—but little to add to the debate.

The mark of intellectual and spiritual maturity is the ability not to just take sides in a debate, but to take responsibility for the way in which the debate itself is conducted. That's a tough place to stand and when you stand there you run the risk of being characterized as a Pollyanna and a quietist. But without people willing to do that thankless task all that is left are the politics of attrition.

There was a time when the church was somewhat better at brokering those conversations. We appealed for people to listen to one another. We reminded them that the truth matters more than winning. We counseled them that the truth is always more complicated than we recognize at first. Based on our own inward journeys, we were prepared to acknowledge that we are more broken than we would like to admit. And, based on the experience of others on the journey, we learned that there is more good in others than we are willing, at first, to notice or acknowledge. Those are important gifts to give--particularly when times are hard.

But for the moment, it is hard to see us playing that role. Instead, we are Facebook prophets. Baptized, left and right, as much at war with one another as everyone around us. We are not a voice crying in the wilderness, but a voice shouting with the crowds.