Fewer Broken Pieces

In 100 years, all that will be remembered about this election is that a black man was elected to the Presidency for the first time.  Republican, Democrat, irrelevant.

Some political action committee has started airing ads which highlight the connection between Senator Obama and Reverend Wright.  The hope is that Americans will decide Obama has bad judgment (or hates America, or somewhere in between) and choose to vote for the other guy.  I don’t really care, though I find the silence on Senator McCain’s religious life deafening by comparison.  Obama did indeed denounce Wright, just as Wright had predicted would happen some time ago.  This instance of a politician severing ties with a church for political expediency has probably made me more cynical about politics than anything else.

Perhaps I have some latent bias towards Obama, but try as I may, I just cannot find anything particularly scandalous in the preaching of Jeremiah Wright.  He espouses some opinions which I think are best regarded as “conspiracy theories,” such as the US government introducing drugs or AIDS to black populations, or the government causing levies to fail in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.  However, given the nature of the Tuskegee experiments, I can hardly fault black people for expecting the worst from the government.  Moreover, I myself have been quite enamored with conspiracy theories at times (something which I attribute to being brought up on the X-Files).  Yes, I acknowledge that some of Wright’s ideas are wrong or questionable, but I do not think those errant views invalidate his overall message.

Yet these are not what the media typically focus on.  What they focus on are the more inflammatory of Wright’s statements, including “God damn America,” and “America’s chickens are coming home to roost” (concerning the causes of 9/11).  These out-of-context clips are characterized as “hate speech” or “anti-American” or “having nothing to do with the gospel.”  The essence of Wright’s rhetoric can be summarized thus: “God is not pleased with America when it does bad things” and “America should obey the golden rule.”  I don’t object to either of those messages.  What most people are reacting against is the shock-value of Wright’s statements and tone.  Once again, I do not object to these.  Wright is loud and fiery, and he preaches provocatively.  When presented in isolation, his sermons can be passed as “hate speech” by commentators.  However, when taken in context, his sermons are a powerful prophetic witness.  So I do not count Wright against Obama.

But Obama severed his ties nonetheless.  A presidential candidate cannot affirm an association with someone who speaks against America.  This elucidates the problem of Christian participation in electoral politics.  If we as Christians have something critical to say against the United States, that sentiment cannot be shared by any mainstream candidate for the Presidency.  Therefore I fear voting can at times be an affirmation of patriotism above faith.

We find ourselves today at the end of one of the longest and the most expensive Presidential campaigns in United States history.  I am left with two questions:  Did the nomination and electoral process as manifested this year help the United States select the best possible candidates?  Did the campaign foster civic discussion in a way which helped citizens make the best-informed decisions?

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Pilate presents Jesus

I nearly voted, by write-in, for Pontius Pilate to be the President of the United States.  It would have been a joke, for sure, but the sort of joke which provokes more thought than laughter.  Instead I opted to vote for no one, which sparked quite the outrage among friends and family.  It seems anything is better than not voting, and even the non-vote born of laziness or apathy is better than what I did.  However, this was the desired effect, because I thought a non-vote to be the most effective means to raising my thoughts and concerns about Christianity and politics.

Here I will present three basic reasons that I did not vote for President.  The first two will be rather brief, but the third will form the crux of my current thinking on voting.

First, I have become rather fond of federalism of late.  Therefore I think we would be better served by having our President elected by a means other than a popular vote.  For example, state legislatures could choose free-will electors by preferential vote.  I believe this would facilitate a better selection process which cannot be so heavily driven by the media.  Think of the money which could be saved if candidates only had to campaign for 538 individuals.  Moreover, think of the benefit to our society were we spared from the eternal election cycle and the divisive rhetoric which accompanies it.  This proposal is unpopular by definition, but I think at this present juncture it could be quite useful for states to follow their forebears and take the vote for President out of the hands of the people.

Second, I wanted to give concrete expression to my heavenly citizenship.  The preponderance of salvific and even messianic language coming from some high-profile candidates this season has given me pause.  The hope to which I so firmly hold is Jesus Christ, not the political movement of Barack Obama.  Moreover, the change I seek is the change of Jesus’ inbreaking kingdom, not that of a political “maverick” named John McCain.

Obviously, I have saddled each with a perhaps unfair equivocation of what each means by “hope” and “change.”  Neither Obama nor McCain would say he is seeking to usurp a role which only God can fulfill.  Yet as I considered the concept of heavenly citizenship, I realized that I myself give very little expression to my understanding of the hope and change that are in Christ Jesus.  My hope was indeed vested in Presidential politics, at least in terms of any practical expression.  My hope in Jesus was purely theoretical.  Therefore I thought it best, for my own devotional edification, to opt out of voting for a leader and instead to merely say “Jesus is Lord.”  By doing so, I am expressing that I am not expecting ultimate hope nor change from worldly leaders.  Rather I can relax in knowing that whoever wins this tiny election, Jesus Christ still sits at the right hand of the Father, waiting to usher in His kingdom on earth.

The final reason I elected not to vote this year centered around the question of voting as Christian orthopraxy.  In other words, as I have asked before, is it possible to vote righteously?  Another way of asking the same question: should faith inform one’s voting?  Based on my purely anecdotal experiences, I believe that most Christians want to say that their faith affects how they vote.  My question is different from and prior to that question: how can faith inform voting?

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, light from light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, of one Being with the Father; through him all things were made.

How someone can go from faith (as witnessed in the Nicene creed) to Democrat or Republican is a mystery to me.  I simply see nothing in any tradition’s creed, confession of faith, catechism, or doctrinal statement which can tell me whether supply-side or demand-side economics are better; whether welfare programs are best executed in the US by the states or the federal government; whether “the right of the People to keep and bear arms” should include assault rifles; whether a federal ban on off-shore drilling should be lifted; etc., ad nauseum.  Christian faith, in and of itself, cannot inform our voting, unless there is a measure on the ballot, “Do you believe in one God . . . ”

Saddam is toppled

I think that if asked about these issues, most Christians who say that their faith affects their vote would agree that there is no clear “Christian” position on many of these partisan distinctives.  They are, for the most part, purely a matter of personal preference.  If someone would like to make a political case for a politician or an issue, one must do it from the standpoint of Christian ethics, not Christian faith.  Are there any issues facing the United States about which Christian ethics can make an authoritative pronouncement?  To each individual, it would seem there are.  However, I can affirm the Nicene creed with my Episcopalian friends, some of whom disagree with me on whether abortion should be illegal.  Also, I can affirm the Foursquare doctrinal statement, but many of my friends in that movement disagree with me on the wars.

There is also the question of to what degree our Christian ethics should correspond to the laws of laws and politics of a liberal democracy.  My conservative friends believe that we should clothe and feed the poor, but they do not believe that such charity should be mandated and carried out by the government.  My liberal friends believe that homosexuality is wrong, but they do not believe that gay couples should be deprived of the same benefits as straight couples.  With regard to abortion, should Christians vote for McCain because he takes a principled stand against legalized abortion, or Obama, whose policies might greater reduce the actual occurrence of abortion in the United States?

Sarah Palin’s former pastor said, “If every Christian will vote righteously, it would be a landslide every time.”  In my opinion, the only way to vote righteously is to vote self-righteously.  I know I have made an inflammatory statement here, and I do not wish to unduly offend anyone.  Yet when I look at the complexity of voting and of Christian ethics, I can come to no other conclusion.  Voting is subjective.  Even on seemingly easy questions, Christian tradition cannot easily be boiled down to a vote for a single candidate.

I believe we have to approach voting humbly and dispassionately, if at all.  We do so because in our weakness we admit that we lack the wisdom to discern God’s will in every instance.  We do so because in nearly every case in politics, there is no one right answer, yet we feel compelled by our civic duty to do something.  We do so because our own Christian brothers and sisters, who believe in God with the same sincerity, may come to opposite conclusions.  And finally, by voting dispassionately, we acknowledge that the politics of this world are not the ultimate end.  It does not matter greatly if things do not go our way, because we trust that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

This year I assumed the ultimate dispassionate posture: I chose not to vote for President.  I may or may not make the same decision in the future.  Yet this year it seemed right to me to excuse myself from the noise.  On November 4th, I will be free to take in the greatest spectacle on earth without worrying about a right or wrong result.  I will be trusting in God’s providence rather than the will of the electorate.

I guess I better practice what I preach.  So, in order to make my political voice better heard, and to foster discussion, I am eschewing the private ballot and posting my votes online:

United States Senate - Dave Brownlow (Constitution)

This was a vote against Gordon Smith’s vote to authorize the Iraq war.  He has actually faced reelection since that vote in 2002, but the war started in 2003, so this is his first chance to be called to account.  Also, for some reason I am turned off by Merkley, and this seemed to be an excellent situation to express my general dissatisfaction with the two-party system.  Therefore I voted for the “third party” on the ballot.  There are also some aspects of Brownlow’s platform I appreciate.

United States House (1st District) - Joel Haugen (Republican/independent)

I appreciated Haugen’s blurb in the voter’s pamphlet.  He was originally selected as the Republican candidate, but he opted to be listed as an independent on the ballot.  I have nothing particular against Wu except his ultimate vote for the bailout.

Secretary of State - Rick Dancer (Republican)

I was struck by Dancer’s blurb, and I wanted to vote for someone outside of the establishment of Salem politics.

State Treasurer - Allen Alley (Republican)

Same as above - an outsider with an impressive pitch.

Attorney General - John Kroger (Democrat/Republican)

Let’s face it: he’s a superstar.

Measure 54 - Yes.  Why not?

Measure 55 - Yes.  Why not?

Measure 56 - Yes.  Requiring majority vote plus majority turnout strikes me as anti-democratic.  If we are going to do direct democracy, let’s really do it.

Measure 57 - Yes.  I was conflicted about this.  What ultimately swayed me was my experience as a volunteer in Oregon Corrections and the endorsements this measure received from law enforcement and corrections organizations, not to mention the aforementioned superstar (and future AG) John Kroger.

Measure 58 - No. This is best left to school districts to decide.  Educators I have spoken with do not think this is the best approach.  And, as with all Bill Sizemore measures, I would like to discourage his efforts.

Measure 59 - No.  While I am sympathetic to those who complain about “double taxation,” I am more than a little disturbed at the effect this measure would have on state revenues.

Measure 60 - No.  This matter is best left to school districts to decide for themselves.  Also, why should seniority be totally excluded from deciding pay?  Additionally, I am curious about how classroom performance can be accurately and fairly measured.  This measure does not define good classroom performance.

Measure 61 - No.  I am not a fan of mandatory minimum sentences.  Let judges be judges.  Also, the populist “law and order vote” makes me uneasy, especially when corrections professionals seem to favor 57.

Measure 62 - No.  Being a young buck, I am not (yet?) a law and order voter.  Leave the lottery fund alone.  Also, why not eliminate the voluntary tax of the lottery and actually fully fund our government through taxation?

Measure 63 - No.  This one came down to the arguments.  I trust that removing the need for permits on smaller construction will cause problems.

Measure 64 - No.  Believe me, I am sympathetic to union members whose dues are being spent against their will to fund political campaigns.  However, that needs to be a matter of union charters and negotiations, not of state law.  I am also concerned about unintended legal consequences of this law.

Measure 65 - Yes.  I am an unaffiliated voter.  Why should I have to pay for primary elections in which I cannot vote?  Partisan primaries should not be facilitated by state elections.  Let the parties choose their candidates on their own dime.

President of The United States of America - None.  I will elaborate on my decision to abstain from the presidential vote in a forthcoming post.

Jessica Alba laments silencing herself.

Around each election, there is an increase of media aimed at encouraging young people to register and vote.  The theme of these particular ads is that voting constitutes one’s political “voice.” In other words, voting is the only means of expressing one’s political wishes.  “Only you can silence yourself,” the argument goes.  The thought brings poor Jessica Alba to tears.  Judging by what I have heard and experienced these past months, the concept of voting-as-voice is rather popular in America.

My reading of Nekeisha Alexis-Baker’s essay “Freedom of Voice: Non-Voting and the Political Imagination,” in Electing Not to Vote has lead me to question the proposition that one’s vote constitutes one’s political voice.  Therefore what follows is heavily indebted to her writing.  If voting constitutes one’s voice, then our political voices are very limited instruments indeed.  Here following I will suggest a number of reasons why voting is not a citizen’s only political voice.  Indeed, it is probably the least effective (and certainly least expressive) means of expressing oneself politically.

Voting is binary (or trinary, etc.)

Depending on what is placed on the ballot, the choices for voters are very limited.  In the case of propositions, there is only “Yes” or “No.”  In the case of candidates, there can be anywhere from one to dozens of choices, but there is most often only a handful.  So, to extend the metaphor of voting-as-voice: someone who votes has a voice which can only speak two words.  Or, to use another analogy: voting is a musical instrument which can only play two notes.

So what happens if I need to say something which cannot be expressed in only two words?  What if I want to play Bolero instead of Hot Cross Buns?  As Christians, I suspect this can come up quite frequently.  One candidate might espouse certain Christian values while another might espouse others, and both might espouse some decidedly unchristian values.  Voting by its very nature is limiting.  Therefore it is problematic to limit our own political engagement by choosing voting as our only voice.

Voting is monolithic

When we vote for a candidate, we are voting not just for a person, but for that person’s platform.  It is like the infamous omnibus spending bills in Congress.  We lack a line-item veto.  In the current political environment of the United States, it is highly unlikely that a candidate could make it to the national stage with a platform (and personal character) which could be wholly embraced by a Christian in good conscience.  So if we choose to vote for somebody with whom we do not totally agree, there is no way to express that in the act of voting.  The vote is counted for that individual and there is no indication that my vote is not an endorsement of that candidate’s embrace of abortion or war.  If we want to express that our vote is not an endorsement of the monolithic party line, we must exercise our voices outside of the ballot box.

Voting is unqualified

When we vote, there is no space provided on the ballot to express why we voted for a particular candidate or proposition.  This can be illustrated by an upcoming ballot measure in Oregon. It will create a state law to govern how long English language learners can in taught in their native languages in public schools.  Some will vote “No” because they think this is a bad policy from the perspective of education.  However, others will vote “No” because they think such determinations are best left to local school boards.  And some (like myself) will vote “No” for both reasons, and a few others (including my dissatisfaction with the Oregon initiative process and with the sponsor of this particular measure).  My political voice has a lot to say about Measure 58, but I cannot express it by voting.  Only the “Yes” or the “No” comes through.

Voting is anonymous

Because we use a secret ballot in the United States, voting is anonymous.  I understand the merits of this practice.  However, it compromises the function of voting as one’s political voice.  After I cast a ballot, what I expressed is no longer mine.  It has joined the great cacophony of other voices, and cannot be traced back to me.  Once it is gone, the candidates and pundits are free to interpret the anonymous results in any way they choose, since voting in unqualified and anonymous.  My vote is no longer mine, so it cannot tell anyone anything about me or my opinions.

Conclusion

As far as political expression goes, voting is weak.  In order to fully express myself politically, I must do something in addition to voting.  Herein is the great irony of these ads.  They themselves are a form of political speech outside of the ballot box.  There are many ways to express oneself, including making documentary films, blogging, protesting, and the like.  To think that voting is a sufficient means of expressing one’s political opinions is to be guilty of not having a big enough imagination.  Consequently, I do not regard non-voting as something to cry about.  By electing not to vote, I can express my political ideas - my voice - just as clearly as someone who has voted, but without participating in the problematic institution of voting.  As Electing Not to Vote has shown, there are many good reasons for not voting, ranging from problems of corruption to questions of allegiance.

I concur: “Only you can silence yourself.”  Voting is one of the best ways to do that.

This is the table of contents for my interactions with Electing Not to Vote: Christian Reflections on Reasons for Not Voting.

1. John D. Roth
2. Andy Alexis-Baker
3. Nekeisha Alexis-Baker
4. G. Scott Becker
5. Michael Degan
6. Todd David Whitmore
7. Paul Alexander
8. Tato Sumantri
9. Ted Lewis

Further reflections:

• Voting: A voice with two notes
• Voting with the stars
• Dispassionate Voting
• Obama’s chickens coming home to roost

This is the last in my series of interactions with the essays collected in Electing Not to Vote: Christian Reflections on Reasons for Not Voting. Ted Lewis, the editor of the collection, provides an essay entitled “The ‘Presidentialdom’ of God: Our Conversation with Pilate.”

Lewis focuses on the metaphysics of voting as it were, and does not want to focus on the process of voting.  The center of his inquiry is similar to that of Sumantri: what does our heavenly citizenship mean in the context of earthly politics?  So he opens the essay:

How do we demonstrate our political identity?  What, in fact, determines our political identity?  These are the seminal questions that drove the conversation between Jesus and Pilate, and my hope is that we can draw ourselves into this same conversation. (102)

I appreciate Lewis’ use of Pilate in this discussion.  Pilate represents the very opposite of good government (he was indeed a terror to He who did good).  Lewis argues that “voting for political leaders . . . establishes a bond between people and government in similar ways that religion establishes bonds between people and deities.”  Therefore Christians should refrain from voting, because they can only give such allegiance to Christ.  Lewis’ thesis is intuitive for me insofar as I believe that is what practically happens in many cases.  Partisanship can create strong loyalties which I agree are inappropriate for Christians.  What I am not convinced by is the uniformity of this problem.

Lewis makes an interesting comparison between Christians wielding political power and taking vengeance for ourselves.  I am reminded of course of Romans 12:

Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.

which is followed by this in Romans 13:

[A political leader] is God’s servant, an agent of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.

That is, it seems the state is a legitimate means of God’s vengeance in the temporal realm.  How this would bear on Lewis’ assertion I am not sure, but it was a striking connection for me.

The conversation between Jesus and Pilate is examined with great impact.  Lewis notes that Pilate was a sound and moderate governor, who sought to quell the extreme fancies of the various people he governed, including those who arrested Jesus.  The power of the encounter between Jesus and Pilate is that Pilate put the decision to free Barabbas and to kill Jesus to the people.  A popular vote, as it were.

Lewis posits that Jesus and the Twelve would not have been voters in their day because of how Jesus reoriented politics.  Here Lewis is arguing for non-voting as a normative Christian practice.  This reoriented politics was ironic because Jesus was not acquiring political power through force - quite the opposite.  It is also contrary to the democratic process, because a Christian politics is based on all members being in one in fellowship (κοινωνια) and having the same mind that was in Christ (Philippians 2), not on one group lording it over the other.  Consequently voting (and the Pledge, among other political expressions) are not compatible with God’s politics.

One of Lewis’ strongest points is that Christians place their hope in God and not in the political processes.  Therefore we can rest assured when our personal political preferences do not pan out.  We trust God with the outcome of the election.  In the meantime, we are free to practice the ultimate form of political engagement - love.

Concerning the initial question about political identity, Lewis suggests that it can be best demonstrated by not voting.  Overall, his essay strikes a powerful chord in me.  The question of the expression of political identity is not often addressed.  While I am not convinced that merely voting creates bonds of allegiance between the voter and the state, I am convinced that such bonds are to be avoided.  This essay is an effective capstone to the collection, one which I am sure to reread every two to four years.

I pray that you would step forward and honor your own name in all that happens between now and election day.

This is the prayer offered at the invocation of a McCain political rally this weekend.  That God is the mastermind behind geopolitics (as portrayed particularly in the prophets) is not a popular teaching in modernity.  Indeed, those who dare to interpret current events theologically have a difficult and controversial task ahead of them.  So it is no surprise that the various media outlets have manufactured a certain amount of scandal about the above video.

Is God’s reputation on the line?  Also, what action would God’s stepping forward to honor his own will entail?  Is he going to rig the voting machines?  Will he spirtually suggest (or implant) a McCain vote among Floridians?  Or will he give McCain a golden tongue which will win back the masses in these coming weeks?  My line of questioning probably gives away my stance on the issue.

This is the eighth in my series of interactions with the essays collected in Electing Not to Vote: Christian Reflections on Reasons for Not Voting. Tato Sumantri provides an essay entitled “The Folly of Not Voting: Reflections on the Incoherence of the Church.”

Sumantri opens with a note that the following essay will probably make no sense to someone who is not a disciple of Jesus.  Following is an account of his youth in Indonesia and the political turmoil that nation experienced in the 1960s.  Following that, he notes that he first became disillusioned with politics during the Carter administration, when all the hope of having a born-again President was washed down the drain by the political realities of Washington, DC.

Sumantri concluded that what he was looking for - peace and justice - had no chance of being established by any form of human government.  Godly politics (non-coercive love) cannot be compatible with worldly politics (coercive violence).  Here Sumantri posits that a declaration of “Jesus Christ is Lord” is fundamentally incompatible with the secular politics, where Caesar is lord.

This essay has the distinction in this collection of making the most frequent use of scripture, with Ephesians and Philippians being cited in support of Jesus’ lordship over all earthly political powers and Christians’ heavenly citizenship.  Sumantri understands earthly politics as a form of the “grasping” for power which Jesus eschewed.  In this he is arguing that non-voting should be a Christian norm.

I appreciate that Sumantri seeks to argue against voting in totality (given that most of the essays in this collection understand voting subjectively), based on the nature of being a follower of Christ.  I am also sympathetic to the notion of Christian sojourning in a political context.  Pilgrims do not vote.  I myself am not sure that voting is a violation of allegiance, however.  Nor am I sure what Sumantri does with the state (as described in Romans 13) in light of his position.  At the very least, Sumantri’s argument can be understood as an argument against democracy, but it brushes close to anarchism, which I cannot accept.  Still, I personally do not often contemplate what being a citizen of heaven means for my earthly citizenship.  It could be that non-voting might be a proper expression of that truth.