PILGRIM NOTES

A society doesn't simply appear, fully formed, either. It is made up of millions of people, each being shaped by families and communities, experiences and traditions, teachers and preachers, algorithms and news feeds, and—I hope—by God. And what—or who—is forming us will inevitably shape what we build together.

I've come to wonder whether we have sometimes built the walls around our belief systems so high that agreement has become a condition of belonging. And if that's true, listening to God becomes more costly than we might imagine. Because what happens if I really ask God to correct me—and he does? What happens if the people I love don't change with me? What happens if I no longer fit comfortably among the people who helped give me my identity?

My vote. The candidates I support. The policies I advocate. The causes to which I give my time and money. Even the way I regard people whose politics I find objectionable. All of it must be subject to the same question I ask about the rest of my life: Is this what God wants of me? And perhaps there is another question beneath that one: What is my influence actually serving? Is it serving the purposes of God as I understand them—love of neighbor, truth, justice, mercy, human d

Looking back, I realize my civic conscience—love for God, love for neighbor, and gratitude for the privilege of living in a free society—was being developed at home, at school, and at church. Long before I had the right to vote, I had the freedom to ask questions, debate ideas, and discover that citizenship requires participation, not merely observation. I'm deeply thankful for the people who taught me that.

When fear searches for an explanation, simple stories become attractive. Some point to immigration, religious pluralism, ethnic groups, or political opponents. Whether these explanations contain elements of truth or not, they often reduce a complicated cultural transformation to a single villain. Fear rarely tolerates complexity. It searches for someone to blame. And once fear has identified an enemy, taking back political control begins to look like the obvious solution.

Does Jesus call His followers to influence the world—or control it? Human beings have long assumed that power is the surest way to influence others. Yet from the pages of Scripture to the unfolding story of history, God consistently works through humble, self-giving love. Twenty years ago, I was pastoring a small church in Tucson. A leader in the congregation came to me, excited about a video series produced by historian and political activist David Barton, who argues that

As a Christian, I believe that when we use the terms faith and faithfulness, we are talking about promising to God, and to one another, that we will do our best with what we have been given. When, out of self-interest, greed, or a lust for power, people seek to dominate others, they corrupt this sacred trust and oppression inevitably follows.