Well . . . as this BLOG entry is posted, the nation is concluding the 2022 midterm voting. 

Folks who know me, know that my personal views of American politics and the church have changed over time. I grew up in a setting, and a family, that walked sometimes predictable and sometimes unpredictable paths down the middle of the road that winds through the terrain of faith and politics. Culturally conservative, economically liberal, generally segregated in a white working-class suburb but racially aware and sensitive (if at a distance), and generally committed to the idea that the church is the context in which all of these things are best worked out. I also absorbed a sense that there was something sacred about America--competing with church and family for my ultimate affection. I think my father (now deceased) believed that the Constitution was on par with scripture. His view was not untypical for second-generation immigrants. He rightfully appreciated the opportunities America had given his (my) family. And I shared his appreciation. I simply assumed that while Jesus had no party affiliation, respectable Christians would still tend to lean to the Right on most issues (not all). As a high school student, I gave an invocation at a rally for Betty Ford, when her husband was running for President. And I was proud to do it.

All of that was shaken a bit. First shake came during my college years. Encountering deep, systemic poverty in Chicago and joining committed Christians working to address it. Discovering persons of deep faith who saw the world, and their own experience, differently than I saw my own. Opening up to history in new ways, including seeing that American history is less a story of inevitable progress and innocent defense of human rights than it is a site of often fascinating and sometimes concerning struggles between forces and interests—sometimes coming out well, sometimes not.

Studying in England, I encountered committed Evangelical Christians who considered themselves Marxists (Go figure!). I saw different ways of ordering society and found fresh perspectives looking at America from afar.

Questions welled up. What place, really, has "nation" in the life of faith and the mission of the global church? Where are my primary allegiances, and can I sustain multiple allegiances? In what order shall I place my obligations as a believer?

A growing connection to the Middle East lifted this all to a new level for me. Especially so while living with and observing non-violent Jewish and Christian activists in Israel and on the West Bank. This gave me a sense of how morally powerful faithful, fearless, and selfless action can be. This also left me with a sense of how distorted the conversation around righteousness, justice, and America's role in the world can become when divorced from actual effects.  

America is a shining city on a hill for all to admire and emulate. It's also a power broker, too often ignorant of the consequences our self-serving policies can sometimes have. We do good. We do the opposite of good. And we wander in between, with mixed results. As Americans and as an American nation, we are not one thing. We are many things. This I've come to believe. But let me be clear. I don't think this view is "anti-American." I'm an American and I'm grateful to be. I desire good for the nation.  

So the church. I do think we should be committed to authentic (not manipulated) democracy--not because it's God-ordained, but because it best protects space for healthy dialogue and well-ordered liberty. Yet I also believe we're called to not confuse the nation with God's Kingdom. Our goal as believers is faithfulness, not power. Our vision is God's realm, not American influence. Our Lord is not a political party but is a Crucified Savior who is raised for all people. Our kindred are our American neighbors, for sure, but our kindred are also all people, everywhere, who seek peace, hope, compassionate community, and a just way forward for all (and especially for the vulnerable). I think our alliances should be based on prudence, prayer, and possibility—not party. This I have come to believe, even as I join in praying for the nation (and for the world the nation impacts). God bless America, and God bless all people.