We all have our own stories, don’t we? These are the collection of our “greatest hits” that we use to tell others who we are and what’s important to us. And then there are the stories that we only whisper to ourselves. These are the secret stories that are still unfolding; the ones that give our lives meaning and context and purpose. In these stores, we are each cast as the heroes or heroines. In virtually every good story, a hero or heroine must overcome a series of challenges in order to obtain something he or she truly desires. In like manner, we have all valiantly tried to achieve some goal set beyond us.

Seeing ourselves within a story can help sustain us during the difficult times, which will inevitably come. As dark as it gets, if we believe it’s only the second act, we still have time to rally and win the day. In fact, the bleaker the outlook, the more rewarding the story will be when we finally break through. At least, that’s the way Hollywood likes to tell it. But reality can be very different. Often times, we never break through. Instead, the process can break us. Or, even if we do manage to grab hold of the object of our desire, it doesn’t feel the way we thought it would.

So, what happens when the story breaks down? What if, despite all your efforts and prayers, you fail to achieve what you feel you were put on this earth to do? The promotion doesn’t come. Instead, you are laid off and can’t find work. What if you never get that big house on the hill, or you build your dream house, only to lose it? What if the child you pray for never comes? Or your child grows up to reject you and your values? What if you get terminally ill in the prime of your life? What if a tornado blows away everything you own?

Experiencing this kind of failure can be devastating. Our stories can quickly turn from comedies into tragedies. As Christians, this can be particularly difficult. We are told that a loving God hears our prayers, cares about our lives, and wants what is best for us. How can we reconcile those beliefs when prayers go unanswered, our lives unravel, and what we long for never comes? What do we do when we put all our faith and hope in God – and God doesn’t come through?

At this point, I think something inside of us dies. We realize that life isn’t a feel-good story with a Hollywood ending. But what happens next is even more important. After mourning the death of a dream, we must decide how we will go on. What parts of our faith will we still take with us, and what parts will we leave behind? Will we be content to live our lives without hope, simply letting the story write itself? Or will we dare to dream again? The experience can numb us and shut us off. Or, there is an opportunity to allow the experience to deepen and even enrich our lives.

Christ himself seems to go through this at the end of his life when he cries out from the cross, “Father, Father, why have you forsaken me?” Even in this moment of total abandonment, when all is lost, he continues to forgive the very people who have crucified him. He saves a soul on the next cross over. He makes sure his mom is going to be taken care of. And, finally, he still commits his spirit to his Father. Of course, the story doesn’t end on the cross. And so it goes for each one of us.

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A few nights later, the original Wizard of Oz came on TV, so I watched that again, too. I was struck with how true to the original the prequel was – and how far special effects have come in seventy or so years. Both movies essentially have the same message: whether it’s bravery, brains, a heart, or even a ticket back to Kansas, we already have all we need. The notion that simply believing in ourselves may sound a little hokey, but I think there is a certain amount of truth to it and something I needed to hear.

This “Wizard of Oz” is very different than the personal God I grew up believing in. Having a sinful nature, I was totally dependent on God for my salvation. Despite this, “God” was endlessly interested in the minutia of my life, which could have contributed to an inflated sense of self-importance. It also made me expectant of miracles – big and small. This overly-spiritualized faith is similar in many ways to ‘mystical’ or ‘magical-thinking’ and can create a lot of frustration when prayers go unanswered.

Yet, I was also taught that God answers every prayer. Sometimes the answer is ‘yes,’ and sometimes it’s ‘no,’ and sometimes it’s ‘not right now.’ While that certainly covers all the bases, even as a child, I couldn’t help but feel like God was getting a free pass when it came to his batting average. The Wizard of Oz tries a similar tactic by sending Dorothy and her companions on a fool’s errand to get the Wicked Witch’s broom. When they manage to actually succeed, Oz still tries the ‘not right now’ tactic.

It’s only when Dorothy has the chutzpah to pull back the curtains that we discover that the Wizard is really just a man. Even though he’s just a mortal, without any supernatural power, he still gives each person what they really need. I’m not trying to make a theological statement on the nature of God; all I’m saying is, when I don’t get an answer, maybe God is telling me to take personal responsibility and use the gifts he’s already given me. If I listened to my heart and my head, and had the courage of my convictions, a lot of my problems would go away.

This principle can be applied individuals, as well as collectively. For example, if we corporately think that gun violence and shootings are something that needs to be addressed in our society, we should have the brains to figure out common sense solutions – and the courage to carry them out. If our biggest brains (aka scientists) keep warning us about climate change, we need the political will to take some steps toward confronting it. The same is true of deficit reduction. And, at the same time, if we have any heart at all, we should have compassion for the poorest among us.

Sure, it would have been easier if the Wizard had simply granted everyone’s wishes and sent them on their merry way. The Wizard didn’t do that because he couldn’t. But even if he could have, he would have deprived the recipients of participating in the miracle. Being brave or smart or loving is an action that requires exercise and effort and, unless we understand how to access it, the miracle will quickly fade. We all want God to part the Red Sea for us because it’s exciting and easy. But, in the end, the techno-color miracles don’t do as much for us as learning to accept and believe in ourselves. That’s the gift that keeps on giving.

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Years ago, I was living in North San Diego County, trying to figure out my next move in life and searching for any sign from God. The start-up company I had been working for had run out of money, so I was working the swing shift (3:00 to 10:00 pm) at the front desk of a local resort. In the mornings, I spent my time reading, trying to surf, and hanging out in coffee houses. One day, at a coffee house in Encinitas, I met a girl from Australia. We both seemed to be “seekers” and she told me about this person she’d found in the desert who had all the answers. Intrigued with this supposed wise man (and this attractive young woman), I agreed to drive out with her and meet “Ray” (not his real name either).

After a couple of hours, we ended up at a ranch house surrounded by nothing but sand and cactus. A blind woman answered the door and introduced herself as Ray’s wife. She offered us tea and asked us to wait because her husband was in his “meditation hut.” My friend warned me he might be in there for hours and, apparently, it was unthinkable to disturb him. Fortunately, it wasn’t too long before a surly, heavyset man with a beard and a knotty wooden cane emerged. We made introductions and I proceeded to ask him a few meaning-of-life type questions. I don’t recall much of the exchange, although I did ask ‘who or what is God?’ When he admitted that question was beyond him, I was a little more impressed. And, by the time we were leaving, I was still curious what this strange man could teach me.

A couple of weeks later, I went back out to the desert to take part in a ‘workshop’ Ray was offering. There were only a handful of attendees and only one other male, Mike, who would be my roommate for the weekend. A little older than me, Mike was a gentle, sweet soul, who was impossible not to like. Together, our little group endured Ray’s intensive, somewhat abusive, teaching style. He prodded us to publically expose painful memories, and I privately wondered if we should be opening up such emotional wounds. Ray also took us through guided meditations in which he seemed to simultaneously know what was going on in each of our respective heads. Having successfully passed the first weekend, our little group was invited to come back for a whole week of more advanced training.

Surprisingly, we all returned and Ray continued to walk us through his meditation technique that incorporated Carl Jung’s archetypal characters. You would start in a meadow where you would play with your inner child. Next, you might interact with your “twin” or “anima/animus,” which represents yourself in the form of your opposite gender. From there, you crossed a bridge, where you’d have to deal with your shadow self. There is a mountain to scale and, along the way up, a wise person to ask questions. Finally, at the top, you encountered the male and female aspects of God. To work through the entire “mindscape” could take hours, and yet, most of us felt like it culminated in a profound, if not religious, experience.

During the week, we also learned how to use and direct “energy” in the body, which supposedly can be used for healing. And we practiced losing some of our inhibitions through a variety of exercises, including dance. While I was distrustful of anything that might counter my Christian beliefs, I felt like I had learned some useful things during the week. Mike, on the other hand, was over-the-top excited with his newfound knowledge. We split up, with Mike giving a ride to two of the participants to San Diego, and I took the two Aussies to the North County area. Early that next morning, around 4:00 am, I got a call from one of the girls who said Mike had dropped them off, but had disappeared without saying good-bye. That was unlike him and she knew something was wrong.

I rounded up the Aussies and our little group met at the last place Mike had been seen. The police had already been called, but we started to search the area around the apartment building ourselves. An hour or so later, a detective came to the apartment and questioned everyone before telling us Mike’s body had been found. Apparently, he’d been carjacked and his body had been dropped a few blocks away. Since it was still an active crime scene, we all went over. It was sickening to see him lying lifelessly on the street and our whole group broke into sobs and wails. It seemed so senseless – and so strange, especially given how high on life he had been just a few hours earlier.

We still had another, final session out in the desert, which I felt compelled to attend. I was angry at Ray for not attending the funeral – and I had a few more questions: If he was so ‘all-knowing,’ why hadn’t he foreseen this coming? What about the timing… Why did it happen as he was returning from the workshop? What did Mike’s death mean? While I didn’t live in a high crime area either, my car was stolen the day before I was supposed to go back out to the desert. Any reasonable person would have taken this as a sign not to go, but I caught a ride and showed up anyway.

Ray didn’t have any answers to my questions, at least not any good ones. Instead, he tended to blame the bad psychic energy of one of the women Mike had dropped off. He said he’d meditated long and hard on the event and had been able to tap into Mike’s state-of-mind at the time of the attack. He said Mike had been very frightened. Really? No kidding! My darkest suspicions about Ray were being realized. There was a manipulative quality about him that I’d tried to overlook before. Certainly, he didn’t have ‘all’ the answers. And, maybe, we were delving into things we shouldn’t be getting into. After that weekend, I never went back.

Using DNA, the police caught Mike’s killers; a couple of ex-cons who just happened to be walking up the street, looking for a ride. We’ll probably never know exactly what went on between Mike and the men who took his life. I don’t even know why Mike’s memory happened to pop up during my meditation the other day. Maybe it was some kind of warning. Maybe it was just a social call. Or it could be just one of those random things that the subconscious does from time to time. Whatever the reason, it was good to see him again. So, I’ll try to stop squirming long enough to meditate, because I never know who might show up.

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It’s not that there aren’t important issues that are being decided, such as how to reduce the national deficit, how to create more jobs for more people, instilling reasonable gun control laws, and reducing carbon emissions. The list goes on and on. I’m just not sure I have the wherewithal to stay emotionally connected with the outcomes, much less all the political wrangling to get there. Basically, I trust the guy in the Oval Office. I think he’s a reasonable person who is willing to compromise for the greater good. Maybe, sometimes, too willing to compromise.

Besides being weary of the rhetoric, I’d like to think I’m abstaining from politics because I have better things to do with my time and emotional energy. For example, I’ve got a job that requires some attention. I sell residential real estate and the market is starting to come back. As most of you know, I like to write and I’ve been editing a couple of projects that I hope to put out there someday soon. I started volunteering as a counselor at a food pantry/emergency relief center in our area. On top of that, I try to walk my dog and have dinner with my wife and occasionally get to the gym.

My point is I feel like I need concentrate on myself and my immediate circle. It’s not as exciting as the stuff that makes national news, but it’s real to me. I like to think I deeply care about this country – and this world for that matter. At the same time, I feel somewhat disconnected from immigration reform or budget debates. While being aware of the issues is important for a healthy functioning democracy, I cannot lower the deficit, or provide someone with a work visa, or put a background check in place for a person purchasing a gun. I can have an opinion (and a vote), but that’s about it.

I used to live in Texas when I was a kid, so I grew up being a Dallas Cowboys fan. All these years later, I still pull for the Cowboys. Sometimes, I pull so hard I actually pull something. And then it occurred to me: I can’t change the outcome of the game one iota, especially not from my couch in Tennessee. So, what’s the point in being so emotionally invested? Of course, politics has much more serious ramifications than a football game. The policies and laws can affect millions of people, for good or bad. And, it’s important for the media to referee the game and keep us informed of the score.

At the same time, I feel an overwhelming need to refocus my energies on me. I hope that doesn’t sound selfish. I don’t think I mean it that way. Let me try again… I need to focus my energies on the things that I can control and the people that I know. The good news is, if I want to get something done, I don’t have to scrape together the votes or wait out a filibuster. There is no one who can stop me, because I have executive privilege of my own life. And that’s pretty empowering. The only question is – what to do with all this power?

This post also appeared on Patheos Faith Forward.

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1. Slowing down for me is a personal challenge. I tend to rush. I can eat two to three bowls of cereal before my wife has finished one. I’m in a big hurry to get to the next place, even though there’s almost never any real urgency. Yes, I can be that obnoxious guy who honks his horn when the person in front doesn’t instantly see the traffic light turn green. My excuse has been that my internal clock just goes at a faster pace and, while there may be something to that, I don’t think it’s polite, healthy, or even productive. When I’m rushing around or multitasking, I tend to miss important details and make mistakes. More importantly, I don’t enjoy the journey or the bowl of cereal as much as I could. So, I want to practice slowing down. Maybe a yoga or Tai Chi class would help. Whatever gets me to smell the roses and savor the flavor of my bowl of cereal (I recommend Ezekiel 4:9 Golden Flax).

2. Slowing down is necessary for my next resolution: being mindful in the moment. That means not necessarily reaching for my cell phone or the TV remote the instant I get a little bored. In other words, I don’t want to just remove myself from whatever situation I’m in; I want to get more out of it. I suspect daily life is filled with interesting tidbits and tangents that are waiting to be discovered and explored – only I miss most of them because I’m distracted with my own thoughts and worries. What would I find if I just stayed in the moment? For example, it may sound weird, but I enjoy doing the dishes and mowing the yard. These mundane tasks provide a restful, almost meditative quality in their repetition. When I’m finished, I can look at a clean kitchen or a freshly mown lawn and feel a sense of accomplished. I can either view these tasks as items to check off a list or something to enjoy. And I think I need to learn to like more of life’s little tasks, because life seems to be filled with them.

3. Within all the moments that comprise our life, it’s the time with people that give our lives meaning and the relationships that often enrich us the most. I want to really see and hear the people that cross my path. Again, that means slowing down long enough to give my full attention to the person in front of me; whether it’s the cashier at the grocery store, or the friend who I talk to all the time, or even the highly opinionated person at a party. I may not always like what I hear, but I probably need to learn to judge less. No doubt, there will be some people I want to invest more time with than others, but I may not find them if I’m not more open with everyone. At the end of the day, I think I’ll wish I’d been a better friend, listened more to others, shared myself more honestly, and given my time and resources more freely. So, maybe I should get started now.

Slowing down, living in the present, and investing in people all may sound well and good, but they are not very quantifiable. Since I won’t be able to keep a record of my success, how will I know if I’m actually achieving my resolutions? Obviously, these are disciplines that take a lifetime of practice. But I believe all of these aspirations originate from and, ultimately, lead back to the same place: the state of being at peace. Peace is a rare commodity in our busy world. It cannot be acquired through hard work alone or bought by the highest bidder. It’s elusive and sometimes comes when we least expect it; after a hard day’s work, witnessing a sunset, hearing a moving song, or saying a heartfelt prayer. I know I’d like to experience more peace in my life and, maybe I can find it, if I look for it, one moment at a time.

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While Americans have mourned the victims and embraced the survivors, there are disturbing signs that evil continues to thrive among us. Just over the last few days, there have been more threats, some against schools, others railing against the government. Most of these people are probably just venting or seeking attention, but when police investigate, they often do find caches of weapons.

On the weekend after the shooting (December 15th), one person fired off rounds outside a mall in Newport Beach, while another shot up an emergency room in Birmingham. Just down the road from me, in Columbia, Tennessee, a 19 year old posted on his Facebook page: “feel like goin on a rampage, kinda like the school shooting were that one guy killed some teachers and a bunch of students ” 19 people had “liked” his comment.

There’s a lot of blame to go around, but there are a few factors that directly contribute to the anger and violence in our society… For example, according to Nielson, the average TV viewer witnesses 200,000 violent acts on TV by the time they are 18. While this desensitizes all of us, many kids have also been busy mowing down their enemies in video games. These games are so lifelike, they simulate the experience, giving the player actual skills they can use to kill. Obviously, the vast majority of players never take their game playing into the real world, but it shouldn’t surprise us when a few do.

The mother of the Newtown killer was apparently stockpiling weapons and food in preparation of an economic collapse. This phenomenon has become so popular that it has launched a TV show called “Doomsday Preppers.” I understand someone wanting to protect their family from an attacker, but many of these end-of-the-world “enthusiasts” are preparing for a long, sustained war. If you indulge in a paranoid fantasy for long enough, you might turn it into a reality or, at least, a reality TV show.

We live in a country with approximately 350 million guns, and sales have been soaring since the tragedy in Newtown. For years, the NRA has effectively whipped up the fear that guns will be taken away. While no one is advocating for this, it does seem reasonable to limit the size of clips or implement background checks at gun shows. But the NRA, and its most militant members, refuses to compromise and, despite all the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, maintain that even more guns are the answer.

Violent video games, preparing for disaster, and stockpiling weapons all exacerbate the problem, but what is behind the fascination with these destructive tendencies? Of course, there are no easy answers to that question, so I’ll defer to Thomas Merton who, after spending many days meditating on the nature of war, came up with this, “At the root of war is fear: not so much the fear men have of one another as the fear they have of everything. It is not merely that they do not trust one another; they do not even trust themselves… They cannot trust anything because they have ceased to believe in God.”

Could fear be at the root of our need to make war on a global scale or strike out against our fellow man? Could lack of faith be at the root of needing to arm ourselves to the teeth? When we need to protect ourselves from perceived enemies, we are really saying we don’t trust God. Throughout the Old and New Testaments – God, the Prophets, and Christ are continually telling us to “Fear Not.” Of course, that’s easier said than done in a world with real, dangerous enemies.

Part of the problem may be that God’s protection doesn’t look like our version of it. God doesn’t necessarily come cloaked in military might. In fact, God willingly sent an innocent baby into a harsh, violent world; a world that would eventually crucify Him. This makes no sense to a world that glorifies power and strength, and yet, 2,000 years later, Christ’s light still burns in the midst of the darkness. When sometimes this world seems to have gone mad, Christ offers an alternative path of love and peace, and that’s the true miracle of the season.

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As we light the first candle of Advent, called Expectation, I am pondering if anyone here has wanted something to happen? You waited and were very patient for it to happen, yet it never does, or at least not in the way we think it should. You wonder, “What is wrong?” and start second guessing yourself about your life. I’ve done it, many times. What do we do when crappy things happen or happy things don’t happen when or the way we want them to? Do we give up, throw in the towel? Do we forget that our expectations, especially around this time of year, are sometimes unrealistic, or worse?

I remember being in a group of young people who were being chosen in teams for our attributes of intelligence, physical strength, and physical beauty. Being disabled, I was chosen near the end of the process; those with greater physical beauty and physical ability were chosen before me. This procedure really made me feel as though I was nothing; that I was worth less than Linda, John, or Charles. I began questioning myself and God.

Things came to a head in seminary. I started accusing God of favoritism, of playing favorites with others while leaving me out of the loop of his blessings. I wanted to be blessed in the same way I saw other people were blessed. I thought my disability was the cause of why I wasn’t blessed, and I was angry, hurt, and frustrated because of that. I was angry at God because I felt like he didn’t understand my situation. I wanted to cast my disability aside, and like the men and women Jesus healed, get up out of my chair and walk.

In the midst of my accusations I heard Jesus speak very softly and lovingly. He said, “Mike, I am disabled.” Those four words broke me. Here I was accusing God of not understanding me, when he knew more about being disabled than I could ever fathom.

Expectation. The word is loaded with meaning. One definition is the act or state of looking forward with hope or anticipating good changes. As I stated above, I was waiting for something wonderful to happen to me in my twenties and thirties. I had expectations of something really good happening by the time I was forty. However, my life has never quite measured up to what my expectations were. My disappointment in life might be similar to what some of the Jewish people felt when Jesus came.

I believe we Christians have expectations of God. We want God to bless us in ways we think are good. We do not think to ask if God has expectations of us. I believe he does, and his expectations are not wearisome. By his Holy Spirit, he simply expects us to love as he so loved, forgive as he has forgiven us, and serve as he serves us. God expects nothing more or less from us than what Jesus did, if we call ourselves servants of God. Servants have no rights, except the rights their owner gives them.

As I read in Luke, one of the names the Bible gives to Jesus is Emmanuel, or God with us. I told you Jesus understood being disabled because on that Christmas 2,000 years ago, God somehow voluntarily became a man. I did not volunteer to be disabled, and I think none of us would volunteer, if we had a choice. The Incarnation is the only disability that was voluntary, and God in Christ did it all for you and me.

God lived amongst us for 33 years, teaching and showing us how to live, love and forgive. He wants us to do no less than he did. Jesus could’ve given up, he could’ve said we weren’t worth the aggravation, and used his power to destroy the world. He was tempted once or twice to do so. Instead, he stayed on salvation’s plan, went to the cross, died, rose again, and ascended into heaven..

How does this impact our lives today, or should it even impact our lives? It does, and should. One way the fact that Jesus died and rose again impacts my life is: it tells me this life is not all there is. The disabilities many of us have, the loneliness, the tragedies many of us face, even though they are real and hurtful and not to made light of, are inconveniences when one looks at them through the lens of eternity. We can forgive those who have hurt us, because Jesus forgave us. We can be a servant to others in the same way Jesus was. We can love others sacrificially as Jesus has loved us.

We start in the church and once we have a handle on loving our brothers and sisters with all their failings, we can move out into the world. There is where the rubber meets the road, and when we are controversial like Jesus was, we can take comfort in the fact that, as Jesus was rejected, we may be too. But as Paul says in Romans 8:31-39: “What then shall we say in response to this? Are we willing to let our brokenness be poured out to let Jesus Christ be incarnate in us? To put it another way, are we willing let go of our lives, even our most cherished thoughts, for the sake of Jesus and His Gospel?

As we celebrate this season of Advent in our church, I hope we never forget that the baby whose birth we celebrate now, becomes the man of controversy who died on the cross, rose from the tomb, and ascended into heaven. He says softly and lovingly, “I am now standing at the door and knocking. If anyone listens to my voice and opens the door, I will be his guest and feast with him and him with me.” Listen! Are we listening?

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1. In spite of voter suppression laws, the people overcame new requirements and long lines to fill out a ballot. It was as inspiring as it was depressing to see voters standing in mile long lines on Election Day. The democratic process in the United States should be an example to the world, and yet, some Governors made a conscious choice to make voting as difficult as possible on their own citizens. Never-the-less, people overcame the shameful hurdles that were put in front of them and made their voices heard in record number.

2. Courtesy of the Citizens United case, the flood gates were swung wide for special interest groups to pour money into the election process. As a result, conservative Super PACs outraised liberal PACs by an estimated 5 to 1 ratio. Eight of the top ten Super PACs supported Republican candidates. And yet, the avalanche of the commercials designed to mislead and create doubt were not enough to overcome the American people’s common sense. In the end, billionaires like the Koch Brothers and mega-rich hedge fund managers were not able to buy this election.

3. I confess, I took a certain amount of satisfaction in the failed predictions of Karl Rove and the right wing pundits. It’s become the norm to hear Fox News and Rush Limbaugh declare their own sets of facts without having to back them up. That’s why it’s was especially gratifying to see their bombastic claims come crashing headlong into real time reality. Perhaps they will have greater regard for the science and math behind issues such as climate change. While that’s probably too much to ask, it was nice to see them have to face the facts for once.

4. The US is a multi-cultural country that is at its best when it embraces its minorities. The Democratic Party is much more diverse than the GOP because their message is inclusive and inviting. That’s something Mitt Romney still doesn’t seem to understand. And so, it was rewarding to see people from across ethnicities, religions, sexual orientations, educational backgrounds, and social statuses, all coming together to vote for a President that represents all of the people.

5. I try not to take my health for granted, but I can imagine the only thing scarier than being diagnosed with a life-threatening illness is to then be told my insurance provider won’t pay for the treatment. Because of the Affordable Healthcare Act, millions of people will have access to decent healthcare and providers cannot rig the system to maximize their own profits. The House of Representatives has voted to repeal “Obamacare” 33 times and yet, despite all their efforts, the Affordable Healthcare Act will be the law of the land.

6. Disregarding our poorest members for the sake of our richest is a policy that will lead to moral bankruptcy. For over a decade, the Bush tax cuts have largely benefited the upper class over the middle and lower classes. Because of these elections, we will hopefully have a slightly more equal playing field. At least social programs will not be slashed to the bone in order to continue to increase tax cuts for the top percentile. At our best, we are a nation that provides equality to all of its citizens and I believe the majority of us voted for that in November.

A wise man once told me that politics is never an end-game. They weren’t finished counting the votes before the sniping started up again. Fox News continues to promote a cover-up regarding the tragedy in Benghazi. The most celebrated General in the last decade has resigned in disgrace. The fiscal cliff looms. While political struggles will continue, an important victory has been won. With that in mind, I am going to take a few days to enjoy my family, good food, and football. And, for that, I’m thankful.

This article was also posted on Patheos Faith Forward and Truthout’s BuzzFlash.

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In an attempt to transcend the right and left, it can be tempting to avoid making any choice at all, leaving less scrupulous elements to pick our leaders and determine our policies. It’s true; Jesus sidestepped politics. He talked of feeding the poor and showed compassion for the sick and suffering. He admonished us to take care of the least of these and warned about the love of money. He even paid taxes without complaint. At the same time, he avoided questions about Roman rule. Of course, Jesus had a much more important mission; one that takes place in hearts and souls.

Once we have responded to the gospel, we should have a desire to do God’s work here on earth. For me, this involves trying to support causes that reflect his love and mercy in all aspects of life: families, communities, culture, and yes, politics and government. So, shouldn’t we want a government that more closely aligns itself with the principles that Christ exemplified? Do we want to cut social programs to the poor while giving tax breaks to the wealthy? Do we want to turn our backs on the uninsured? Do we want an economic model that is based on survival-on-the-fittest? What are real Christian values?

These are not just ideological questions. They are real to a mother who has been cut from her health care provider. It’s real to a boy who can’t afford a school lunch, much less a decent education. It’s real to a dad whose job has been shipped overseas. It’s real to a grandmother who worries she’ll outlive a voucher to cover her end-of-life expenses. It’s real if we find ourselves in another war and thousands are sent off to fight. It becomes real in the wake of a natural disaster. Even if you are not directly affected by any of these issues, hopefully, you still care about them because they do affect real people – your neighbors.

The government cannot be all things to all people and we must make some hard choices. We need to discuss how we can reasonably reduce the debt; however, surely, the most marginalized are not the first that need to be asked to pay. If the richest 1% controls 40% of the nation’s wealth (and certain wealthy people are paying less than 15% in taxes), maybe they can do a little more. Let’s discuss how we can reduce abortions, including all the ways to lower the number of unwanted pregnancies. Let’s talk about gay marriage, and how can give all people equal rights. While I know no politician or party is perfect, I don’t hear a willingness to talk about both sides of an issue from the right.

Religion can transform a person’s life, but government can help feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and provide basic shelter for the homeless. It can heal the sick. It can educate the young, providing a brighter, safer future for all of us. It can help ensure that the strongest don’t take advantage of the weakest. I believe these are all worthy goals of a society. God has given us the free will to determine what kind of world we want to live in. Hopefully, Christians will not lose their faith in a flawed system, and be willing to make the tough choices.

This article also appeared on Patheos Faith Forward and Provoketive Magazine.

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Last week, I tagged along while my wife took her mom, Bonnie, to the DMV so she could get a photo on her valid driver’s license. Sixteen states have recently enacted restrictive voting laws, and Tennessee is doing its part by requiring most people (although there are exceptions, which I’ll mention later) to have a photo license to vote. While it may not sound like a big deal; it was a very big deal for Bonnie. She has fought back from two strokes in three years and suffers from high blood pressure and osteoporosis. Never-the-less, she was determined to make the trek in order to exercise her right to vote.

Arriving at the DMV, we quickly got a number; then sat down to wait… and wait. After an hour, Bonnie was getting weak and, even though she wouldn’t admit it; her back was hurting. We finally figured out that you can go a kiosk to get processed for a new license. You need to be pretty handy with touch screens to navigate through the IPads, and my wife and I got stuck on one question and had to ask for assistance. After filling out multiple pages and paying an $8.00 fee with a credit card, we rejoined Bonnie in the waiting area. In just a few minutes, Bonnie was called up to the desk to have her picture taken and issued a new “photo” license.

While Bonnie is a courageous woman, she physically wouldn’t have been able to wait for multiple hours at the DMV, and she certainly wouldn’t have been able to submit her request through the kiosk (all while standing up). So, without help, Bonnie would not have been able to get her photo identification, which means her right to vote would have effectively been taken away. I don’t know how many more “Bonnies” are out there. Tragically, there are many who don’t have someone to take them to get a photo ID, or may not be able to wait for hours at the DMV, or have an extra $8.00.

I could understand this inconvenience if Tennessee was having a problem with voter ID fraud. However, at most, there have only been a couple of isolated cases. The major fraud this year involved a RNC consulting group that dropped off fake voter registrations in Florida; and this law wouldn’t prevent that. No, this law has nothing to do with voter fraud and everything to do with suppressing the vote of minorities and the poor, groups that often vote Democrat. Because hunters tend to vote Republican, this carefully crafted law allows an expired hunting license from another state (with no photo) to serve as an ID. But not Bonnie’s valid Tennessee driver’s license.

Senior citizens may have been the unintended victims of this blatantly political legislation. But, like so many other minority groups who are least able to defend themselves, they are suffering the consequences. Not only is this bad legislature, it’s immoral, and Republican lawmakers should be ashamed of themselves for playing politics with democracy. I can only hope that others affected by this law will show the same determination Bonnie did, and fight for their right to vote. And while I don’t know who Bonnie will vote for, I have a feeling she will remember who made her make an unnecessary trip to the DMV.

This article was printed in the Tennessean and the OpEd News.

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