Praying for the President

In the circle I move in, there's nothing quite like politics to get the blood boiling.  Politics is, after all, the way we American Christians grapple with how to take dominion in the good and godly jurisdiction of government. And those of us who are passionate about this good and godly jurisdiction know that the outcome of every election cycle can bring us one step closer to blessing or destruction.

Then, of course, there are the Christians who would not deign to get their hands dirty in such a secular, filthy pursuit. "I only care about the Gospel," they sniff, as if the Gospel-driven Christian would not care about God's jurisdiction of government. That seems misguided to me, considering the all-encompassing range of the Cross's finished work.

We can disagree about whether the American Christian should or should not care about government. But we cannot disagree about God's marching orders to every Christian citizen on the planet. We must pray for our leaders.

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. 1 Timothy 2:1-3

Today is Inauguration Day. President Obama begins his second term as arguably the most Constitutionally dangerous president of our time--after FDR and Woodrow Wilson.  He will assemble his cabinet and his closest advisers, architect his foreign and domestic policies, and move forward with his agenda to dismantle our individual liberty.

But, love him or hate him, he will be the most powerful man on the planet for the next four years, and he will feel that burden acutely. He will be asked to handle crises and make critical decisions in the blink of an eye. If we have national emergencies, he is the one who will be expected to maintain poise and offer comfort. And he will age. Power and authority and 'the buck stops here' does that to a president.

Love him or hate him? Hate him, dear Christian? I wish it weren't so, but there are Christians of my acquaintance who hate our president. They withhold their prayers for the president like the four-year old who decides to get even with his parents by breaking his own toys. They bluster childishly, "He's not my president."

Please. Yes, he is your president. He won the election, even if you didn't vote for him. That's how elections work. And, yes, you have to pray for him. And, yes, it would be best if you would start by praying for his salvation. That's how adult Christians behave.

But perhaps you think he is beyond the power of salvation. He's too wicked for the Gospel. Then let me introduce you to two evil kings who were humbled--and saved--by the mighty hand of God.

King Manasseh became king of Judah when he was twelve years old. Raised by his father, Hezekiah, he must have had plenty of exposure to good and godly governing. But Manasseh was not like his father, and the blessing which Hezekiah had brought to the kingdom of Judah by purging the land of wickedness was short-lived. Evil came back to Judah, and Manasseh led the way, enthusiastically and capably.
He rebuilt the abominable high places.
He built altars for Baal and Asherah.
He worshiped the stars.
He built an image in the Lord's house.
He sacrificed his son by burning him on an altar.
He consulted occult practitioners.
He provoked the Lord to anger.

It's that last one that makes me quake. Even the most simple-minded Christian can see that things looked dire for King Manasseh. And his situation did, indeed, turn dire. The Lord sent the army of Assyria who captured him with hooks (I don't know what that means--but it cannot have been good) and took him away. But there in the darkness and despair of his captivity--which was a direct consequence to his own sin--there, lying in the bed he had made, so to speak, he finally turned to God. Now that is remarkable.

Yet even more remarkable than Manasseh turning to God is that God turned to Manasseh. In fact, God was moved by his entreaty and heard his plea and brought him again to Jerusalem into his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord was God. (2Chron 33)

But most remarkable of all?
Then Manasseh knew that the Lord was God.
He restored the altar of the Lord.
He commanded Judah to serve the Lord, the God of Israel.
Where is evil King Manasseh today? I strongly suspect he's casting his crown around the throne of King Jesus.

Wicked kings and radical conversions, though, were not just found in Israel.
Nebuchadnezzar was no ordinary king; he was more like an emperor. And his Babylonian Empire was known and feared the world over. Thus, he would stand at his balcony, survey his lands, and applaud his own might and glory. In short, he loved his power and his position. But God does not brook with pride or share His glory, and the die was cast. Nebuchadnezzar would be humbled.

Nebuchadnezzar was driven by God into the wilderness where he lived like an animal, unkempt and eating grass, devoid of human reason. At the end of this madness, his reason returned to him. And what was a wilderness to the unredeemed eye was really just part of the Creator's great cathedral. Then this humbled emperor looked up, and he lowered his voice. He acknowledged that God alone is mighty and glorious, and he bent his knee to the Creator/Redeemer God.  Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the king of heaven, for all His works are right and His ways are just. (Daniel 4:37)
Where is Nebuchadnezzar now?
Probably sitting next to Manasseh.

If God is able to redeem wicked Manasseh and arrogant Nebuchadnezzar, is He not able to save President Obama? So pray. Pray for salvation to come to the Obama household. And if you find yourself believing that Mr. Obama doesn't deserve God's mercy and grace, then you don't understand the power of the Gospel. And you don't understand the stories of King Manasseh and King Nebuchadnezzar. Don't for one minute think that Mr. Obama is too wicked for God's salvation.
God saved you, didn't He?

Besides, there is a supernatural transaction that takes place when you pray for your president. Some time may elapse, but obeying God's commands will change your heart. It can endear him to you. I've been praying for Mr.Obama for four years now. He's my president. Prayer humanizes him to me and reminds me that he is made in the image of God. It binds him to me in my heart. I disdain everything this governor stands for; I disdain his contempt for the rule of law and liberty. But I am genuinely concerned for him as a lost soul who is not yet in right standing with God.

Let's go to the Throne of Grace for our president.
Let's bang down the doors of Heaven for his redemption.
Let us, who are dearly loved children of the Father, make intercession for one who is not.

And let's remember that wicked-kings-and-radical-conversions is Gospel business. 

2012 CC Song of the Year

2012.
Well.
That was fun.

Oh, don't get me wrong. There were a couple good things that happened. Alex settled into the next season of life and found that she is quite the academic, after all. Luke graduated from high school and has eagerly embraced college and adulthood.  The family stayed healthy and safe. We celebrated twenty-four years of marriage. Those were some reasons for rejoicing.

But that was not, unfortunately, the predominant tenor of 2012.

For me personally, it was the year of living dangerously. I tried to champion liberty. I did everything one woman with a facebook account and a blog could do to derail the Romney/Ryan campaign. And I upset not a few friends. I watched a good man, a statesman, get railroaded by 'my' party. I watched good, strong Christians  cave to pragmatism (and the atheism that it signifies). I debated the role of the State and the role of the Church with anyone who would listen.

In August, my suspicion that there was something rotten in DC was confirmed when the Mafia rode into Tampa Bay riding a herd of elephants. John 'Don Corleone' Boehner led the way in a shameless game of corruption when he made the delegates an offer they couldn't refuse.
Literally.
They couldn't refuse it.
Because posters with (other names) were ripped from their hands.
Because he rammed down a convention rule-change in which the vote was scripted on the teleprompter,
Despite the 'nays' from the floor.

Then August turned to September, and suddenly the pressure was on  people like me to 'play nice.' By that, of course, they meant I was expected to vote for their man.

But...
(and I said this to a man's face, so I've got no qualms about saying it here)...
If you ever thought that this girl would go quietly,
If you ever thought that this girl would take her cues from the Wide Path...
you would be utterly mistaken.

Yes, 2012 was a year of head-banging, chin-dropping, face-palming frustration for our household. Where have all the good men gone? Not to DC, that's for sure.

And, as if the state of the State was not bad enough, not corrupt enough, just take a gander at what the campaign season did to the state of the Church.

Enter Billy Graham.
Reverend Billy Graham.
Evangelist Reverend Billy Graham.
Behold the doctrinal pretzel Mr. Graham twisted himself into as he declared that we should no longer call mormonism a cult.

Ummm...

Thanks, Mr. Syncretism. Thanks for cheapening the Gospel, the blood that bought you, the Truth. With shepherds like you, who needs wolves? If I were you, Reverend, I'd make haste to the Cross to beg forgiveness of the Savior you betrayed.

More head-banging. More chin-dropping. More face-palming.

And the day after election? What was the Church doing that day? If my facebook account is any indicator, American Christians were full of declarations that God is still in control and Jesus was still the King. Truly, I lost count of how many times people comforted themselves with those proclamations.

As if you wouldn't need that reminder if your candidate had won...
As if I wouldn't need that reminder if my candidate had won...

Head.bang.chin.drop.face.palm.

But my friend Keri reminded me that Jesus IS still king. And she was right. He is the sovereign monarch over all of His creation. There is not one part of all His creation over which He is not Lord. So, perhaps I've all been lamenting the wrong thing when I ask where the good men have gone.

There is only One who is good.

And the government shall be upon His shoulder.

Yes, we're supposed to take dominion. Yes, we should be concerned about bringing goodness to the jurisdictions of family, church, and government in this fallen world. Yes, we should exercise our right to vote and assemble and petition the government and speak freely. Frankly, if we don't correctly view them as responsibilities first, then we can forget securing them as rights.

But this life is a vapor. And this American experiment shall pass away. This Constitutional democratic republic shall pass away. But the Word of God shall stand forever.

Jesus is the King. No, we can't say America has ever covenanted with Him as king (though I'm afraid that's what many people meant the day after the election). But He is king. He's an absolute ruler. He doesn't need our vote or our covenant or our approval to exercise His rule.

The Lord God omnipotent reigneth.

In the end, proud knees will be forced to the ground; the iron fist of the absolute King will make it so.
Humble knees will bend in willing submission; the scarred hands of the absolute King will receive them.

And we will all know then what He knows now:
The kingdom of this world has become the kingdom of the Lord and of His Christ. 

It's not that it doesn't matter what happens in government right now. It does. It absolutely does. But it's good to be reminded that elections do not ever change God's plan. Regardless of who is sitting in the Oval Office, or at the head of any State, for that matter, King Jesus is on His throne.

And He shall reign forever and ever.

Some people grasp that earlier than others.  George Freiderich Handel was certainly one of them, and in the wake of 2012 politics, I'm glad he did. Handel's magnum opus, Messiah, is really a Bible study about God's promise of redemption and His plan for the Savior. Written in 1741, it still remains immensely loved today. And the climax of the oratorio is The Hallelujah Chorus, a declaration of the supreme Lordship and Kingship of Jesus.

When Messiah is performed today, the audience still stands during the Hallelujah Chorus. Curious, that despite the increasing darkness of our world, men still recognize a tradition which brings them to their feet when the truth of Jesus' reign is being proclaimed in the chorus.

But one day, none of us will be able to stand.
King of Kings.
Lord of Lords.
And He shall reign forever and ever. 

Carmel Conversations 2012 Song of the Year:
"The Hallelujah Chorus"
 (and the tenors totally kick it at the end of this rendition!)

In Search of Nobility: My 2012 Reading List

Another year, another round of reads...
I found this year that the recurring theme, albeit unintentionally, was nobility.  Perhaps I began to notice the theme because this is my second year of immersing myself in Charles Dickens. Perhaps I began to notice it because I trudged through a couple of disappointing books people asked me to check out. Whatever the reason, nobility began to find its way into my vocabulary with increasing frequency as I considered character--or lack thereof.

Back to Dickens...

I have a love-hate relationship with Mr. Dickens.  I hate that his cast of characters almost always swells to some unmanageable number.  I hate that I can get to p. 307 and come cross a name that niggles familiarly at the back of my brain because the last place he was mentioned was about p.15. I hate that I'm supposed to remember who this is when I've been introduced to forty-three other characters since this character's debut.  Add to that about ten substantial plot lines ... and it's easy for even the most attentive bibliophile to get confused.

But...the man is a literary genius. And for that I love him. By the time his tale has ended, all of the characters and plots have converged in one incredible climax. Truthfully, my favorite part of every Dickens novel is the denouement. The wicked have richly received their just desserts, and the noble are vindicated. I always close the book with a contented sigh.

Nobility.  It chooses what is right, despite personal cost. Indeed, true nobility doesn't even consider the cost. More than that, though, nobility trains its appetite for a higher standard of goodness which turns it to greatness. When nobility walks into the room, the less fortunate are ascribed dignity, and the low of character begin to squirm. Nobility remembers she sits at the King's table; nobility invites all to meet her there where she serves grace, kindness, and goodness.

Little Dorrit's Mr. Clennam is noble.
So is Molly Gibson of Wives and Daughters.
Silas Marner learns nobility, as do The Wingfeather Saga's Igiby children.
And...some novels lack any nobility at all:
Collins' Hunger Games, Hill's Mrs. DeWinter, and Rivers' Her Mother's Dreams.
They left me sad and unfulfilled.

I often found myself trying on characters.
The Murdstone siblings of David Copperfield.
Absolutely resolute in their opinions.
Absolute strangers to grace.
(Oh please, don't let me be the Murdstones.)
Dickens' Amy Dorrit.
Overlooks offense.
Honors the dishonorable.
(Sigh. I wish I could be Amy.)
Gaskell's Mrs. Thornton.
Independent. Self-sufficient.
Impeccably just. Frugally merciful.
(Ugh. I think I might be Mrs. Thornton.)

Yes, I could use a bit more nobility.
-------------
As for non-fiction, my top picks tend to answer problems I see in the Church.

I've observed that believers who have previously been steeped in legalism tend to swing to the other extreme: the conviction-less place of antinomianism. What an unfortunate place to land. Several books on my list press for church membership and make a persuasive case for defining who's in and who's out. But David Wells' Turning to God: Reclaiming Christian Conversion as Unique, Necessary, and Supernatural was most excellent at proving the need to be a convert, not merely a follower, of Jesus Christ. Wells describes insider conversion and outsider conversion and sets appropriate expectation for how that will look. Bravo, Mr. Wells.

The Future of Justification was a lucid response to NT Wright's unfortunately weird theology. I'm sorry, friends, but anyone who speaks of Liberation Theology or the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Rowan Williams, in complimentary terms is more than half a bubble off plumb. But those are merely indicators. Wright's larger problem is his bizarre notion of justification. Piper kindly lays the smack down. Smack he lays, nonetheless.
Boom, Mr. Wright. Just boom.

What is the mission of the church? Ludwig von Mises isn't the only one rebuking the notion of social justice. And the world is not the only place this concept has been misappropriated. The Church has wandered off into the weeds, too. DeYoung, who, as everyone knows, is my favorite young theologian (rivaled only by Matt Chandler), sets the record straight in What is the Mission of the Church?

Without further ado, here is my list. There are books I recommend and books I really, really don't. There are books I read to the kids for school and books I read just for me. There are books that took their maiden voyage and books I read again and again. This year's total: 56 books; two short stories; 14,954 pages. (I've included pages because I was challenged by our family friend Owen to a page contest. You can read Owen's most excellent blog here.)

Enjoy. And may 2013 be filled with more ideas, more great characters, more great authors, and more nobility.

Revolution by Ron Paul (167)
Maid of Fairbourne Hall by Julie Klassen (410)
Baptism: Three Views by David Wright, Sinclair Ferguson, and Bruce Ware (192)
Thomas Jefferson: Architect of Democracy by John Severance (179)
Madeleine Takes Command by Ethel Brill (192)
Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes (256)
Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell (644)
Classics on Prayer--Books 1-4 by EM Bounds (387)
Monster in the Hollows by Andrew Petersen(339)
Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx(96)
The Future of Justification by John Piper (188)
The Help by Kathryn Stockett (530)
What is a Healthy Church Member? by Thabiti Anyabwile(120)
In Search of Honor by Donnalyn Hess (152)
After You Believe by NT Wright (284)
The Law by Frederic Bastiat (80)
A Praying Life by Paul Miller (268)
Hero of Heroes by Iain Duguid (114)
The Reb and the Redcoats by Constance Savery (203)
Love or Die by Alexander Strauch (69)
Subversive by Ed Stetzer (232)
Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe (299)
Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens (860)
Tell No One by Harlan Coban (346)
Return of the Dragon by Cynthia Rupp (150)
One Hundred Cupboards by ND Wilson (289)
What is the Mission of the Church? by Kevin DeYoung and Greg Gilbert (268)
The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (274)
Trivium Mastery: The Intersection of Three Roads by Diane Lockman (260)
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis (186)
The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien (233)
Evangelical Fallacies by DA Carson (142)
Seven by Jen Hatmaker (221)
Pleasures of God by John Piper (257)
The Explicit Gospel by Matt Chandler (224)
Silas Marner by George Eliot (172)
A Cricket in Times Square by George Seldon (149)
Red Like Blood: Confrontations with Grace by Joe Coffey and Bob Bevington (218)
Soul of Science by Charles Thaxton (248)
Wonderful Wizard of Oz by Frank Baum (188)
Charlotte's Web by EB White (184)
David Copperfield by Charles Dickens (729)
The Church by Mark Dever (166)
Church Membership: How the World Knows Who Represents Jesus by Jonathan Leeman (132)
Turning to God: Reclaiming Christian Conversion as Unique, Necessary, and Supernatural by David Wells (179)
The Harbinger by Jonathan Cahn (253)
William Carey by Jeff and Janet Benge (211)
The Blue Umbrella by Mike Mason (425)
A Holy Ambition by John Piper (150)
Dandelion Fire by ND Wilson (466))
Her Mother's Dreams by Francine Rivers (483)
True Spirituality by Frances Schaeffer (180)
Of Courage Undaunted by James Daugherty (162)
Jane and the Genius of the Place by Stephanie Barron (361)
Mrs. DeWinter by Susan Hill (349)
Skipping Christmas by John Grisham (227)
Chimes by Charles Dickens (106)
The Cricket on the Hearth by Charles Dickens (105)

Inscrutable

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and how inscrutable His ways! (Romans 11:33)

Cathedrals.
Amazing feats of architecture built to God's glory.
"What do you do when you enter one of the great cathedrals?" asks Dr. John Patrick of Ottawa's Augustine College. "You do two things. You look up. And you lower your voice."

The cathedral is awe-inspiring because it infuses within us a reverence for all that is beautiful and strong and bigger than we.
What is a cathedral, after all, but a beautiful fortress which honors the majesty of our Creator/Redeemer?
The cathedral makes us look up and ponder what is above us. The cathedral humbles us and hushes us and reminds us of how small we are,
How our own words, our own accomplishments, are of little import.
The cathedrals were built in times when men feared the God they served,
When they saw Him as sovereign, as omnipotent, as omniscient,
When they understood that He is inscrutable.

In this day of the church building thrown together with the metal roof in the industrial park...
I have to wonder if our buildings are reflective of how small our view of God has become...

I have a hunch about good doctrine.
I suspect that right doctrine, all that is true about God, will do three things:
It will make God big.
It will make man small.
It will comfort the Saints.

And what we believe about God will ground us--or not--when times of testing come.
And they will come,
Because that is life.

Today, the nation is reeling from the Sandy Hook shootings.
I shrug at the philosophical ponderings of the world.
They are insights offered by blind men.
They are meaningless.
Worse, they do nothing to assuage the suffering, the unfathomable grief, of twenty-two families who will bury twenty-two tiny coffins this week.

But I am utterly appalled by what is being said by some 'believers.'
We are the stewards of the Truth.
And we had jolly well better tell the truth about our King.

This is God we are talking about.
His ways are inscrutable.
Inscrutable.
Beyond our understanding.
Impervious to our scrutiny.
God is not on trial here.
He can never be on trial.
He does things we don't understand.
And He owes us no explanation.

It's not that we are charging him with wrongdoing.
But we are trying to civilize Him.
And that is making Him small.
We say ignorant things about Him,
Things like, "He didn't know the future."
So much for God's omniscience.
Or, "He cannot intervene against mans' choices."
So much for God's sovereignty.
Or, "God cannot stop the power of evil in the world."
So much for God's omnipotence.

Know this.
God could have stopped Sandy Hook.
He didn't.
But it's not because He is anything less than omniscient.
Or sovereign over all choice.
Or omnipotent over all power.
Not for one moment did He blink.
Not for one moment of all eternity did He not know this day was coming.
Not for one moment has His perfect plan been derailed or even sidetracked.
Not for one moment has He ever been outsmarted or overpowered by evil.

And everything, absolutely everything, is right on schedule.
The Saints should take comfort in that.

Don't try to civilize God.
Don't even try to make Him understandable.
You'll only succeed at making Him small.

For shame, parents, if your explanation of Sandy Hook makes God small in the eyes of your children.
For shame, pastors, if your explanation of Sandy Hook makes God small in the eyes of your flock.
For shame, Church, if your doctrine renders God impotent,
And man significant,
And chips away at the sure foundation beneath the Saints.

Inscrutable.
He defies explanation.
That's what makes Him God
and you human.
Look up.
And lower your voice.

Your little mind, and mine, will never be able to fully comprehend the ways of God.
Don't ever be arrogant enough to think we will.

The Journey of Psalm 13

How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?
How long will  You hide Your face from me?
How long must I take counsel in my soul
and have sorrow in my heart all the day?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God;
Light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,
Lest my enemy say, "I have prevailed over him,"
Lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

But I have trusted in Your steadfast love;
My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation.
I will sing to the Lord,
Because He has dealt bountifully with me.
                                                      -------
I think I've had four friends discuss depression these last two weeks. And I battle it occasionally myself.
Anger over life's circumstances leads to depression.
Guilt over life's circumstances leads to depression.
Fear over life's circumstances leads to depression.
In short, sin leads to depression.
Oh sure, our hormones or our diet or our health can make us more susceptible to anger, guilt, and fear.
But that's just another way of saying that our hormones, our diet, or our health make us more susceptible to sin...
Because depression is nothing more than the failure to trust in the goodness and the sovereignty of God.

So we throw diet or exercise or medication at it.
But we are rarely honest enough to get to the source.
The sin.

I've been studying the Psalms with the kids this year.
There's something brutally honest,
and gut-wrenching,
and raw
about the psalms.
They are the heart-cry of sheep in trouble.
Sheep who have wandered into toxic weeds
or who hear the howl of wolves in the pasture.
Psalms are the plea of the sheep who recognizes his need for his Shepherd.
And I am amazed by how many psalms start with hopelessness--but end with hope.

Hope.
It is diametrically opposed to this beast called depression.
It is the antithesis.
It is the solution.

And where, dear sheep, do we find this hope?
In our salvation.
Consider the journey of the sheep in Psalm 13 with me.
He is depressed
Because he thinks he is forgotten by God...
"Will You forget me forever?"
Or he thinks he must fix himself...
"How long must I take counsel in my soul?"
Or he thinks he is overtaken by an all-powerful enemy.
"How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?"

But walk with this depressed sheep.
Where does he turn?
To the Shepherd.

"Consider and answer me, O Lord my God.
Light up my eyes..."

And the faithful Shepherd does just that.
Continue as the sheep discovers...

"My heart shall rejoice in Your salvation..."

Isn't it interesting that the Psalm says Your salvation?
Not my salvation.
When we are depressed, we need to remind ourselves that salvation belongs to the Lord.
Not to us.
When we treat depression like a cause, rather than an effect, we miss the fight entirely.
But the sheep discovers that depression is the symptom of sin, and the only answer for sin is Salvation.
We do battle with depression by preaching the Gospel to ourselves.
That is the journey of Psalm 13.

When we start in a place of hopelessness,
we must make sure to end at the Gospel.
We hunker down in the shadow of the Cross.
We declare to ourselves and to the Lord,
I am a great sinner; Christ is a great Savior.*
And then we rejoice in His finished work and the emptied tomb and our eternity secured by Him.
That's when our hearts are overtaken by the potent light of God's salvation that pierces our darkness.

As I write this, Mr. Obama has just been elected to a second term.
And the people of God are struggling with depression.
Dear sheep, our destiny is not determined by the next four years.
It is determined by the sovereign Lord.
The sovereign Lord who uses nations to write history is the same sovereign Lord who hold you and hides you in the shadow of His wings,
the same Sovereign Lord who made you right with Him.
Understand that, and your depression will be undone.

Then you can sing with the sheep of Psalm 13:
"He has dealt bountifully with me."

Let Me Get This Straight...

I should have known my political views would take me off the broad path. And the signs were there as early as my very first trip into the voting booth. It was the Republican primary in Florida in 1988. I was 20 years old and had been waiting for this moment since Gerald Ford lost to Jimmy Carter.

Afterwards, a fellow Christian voter asked, "So, who did you vote for?"
Triumphantly, I replied, "Jack Kemp."
She looked at me. "You didn't vote for Pat Robertson?"
"Pat Robertson? Why would I vote for Pat Robertson?"

There had been an assumption among many Christians that year. Pat Robertson is a Christian. Therefore, Christians will vote for Pat Robertson. But I didn't think Pat Robertson was very presidential. I thought Jack Kemp was very presidential. (Turns out I was right about Pat. Turns out he's a fruit loop.)

Over the next few election cycles, though, I was the Republican whore, voting for whomever the GOP powers-that-be told me to vote for...like a lemming over the cliff. sigh. I voted for ReadMyLips Bush. Twice. I voted for Dole because I really liked his VP choice.  I voted for Bush, Jr. Twice.

In 2004, I was simpering condescendingly over my friends who were 'throwing their vote away' in the Constitution Party. In 2008, I was ready to vote for a fellow named Romney in the Texas primary. But if I remember correctly, he had already dropped off the ballot by that time, so I voted for a Texan named Ron Paul. Then the general election arrived, and I rolled my eyes at my friends who split hairs over McCain's support for embryonic stem-cell research and the fact that Sarah Palin was a mother with five very needy children at home. Was I swayed? Nope.
I was not swayed by the fact that McCain was not pro-life.
I was not swayed by the fact that McCain had authored the unconstitutional McCain-Feingold bill.
I was not swayed by the fact that Sarah Palin had one special needs baby, one pregnant teen, and a horribly disordered home. Hey, she's a Christian. (Wait... This was sounding vaguely familiar.)
The important thing was that McCain was not Obama.
A girl's got standards.

Then Election Night '08 came. And as I watched John McCain give his concession speech, twisting himself into an ideological pretzel in his zeal to 'reach across the aisle,' I thought, "Yikes. I just voted for Mr. IStandForNothing."

My jaw was dropping. This man could have won...and I would have been responsible.
I need a hero.
I need a statesman.
I need someone who will look into the eyes of every compromising, deal-making, weak-willed, principled-in-rhetoric-only politician on Capitol Hill and say,
"Gridlock.
Bring it."

I found him.
A man of principle whose record matches his rhetoric. (What a concept.)
A man who understands individual liberty and the free market.
And if there is ever a lone dissenting vote or a lone voice of reason on Capitol Hill--well, it's usually his.
He's not afraid of gridlock.
He scratches no one's back.
He's a hero.

But there has been another kind of gridlock this time around, and it's nowhere near DC.
It's in the American church.
What a ghastly election cycle this has been. And I think it would be helpful, just for myself--and maybe for my readers--to try to at least understand the arguments of the different political factions in the church in 2012.

So, let me try to get this straight.

Faction One: "I'm not voting at all." These friends have explained to me that they think the Christian should be above politics. That ushering in God's kingdom is our priority. That government is an evil and a distraction. That our focus should be alleviating injustice around the world. Government is an institution inherently fraught with evil.

Faction Two: "I'm voting for Mitt Romney." These friends are politically involved and love their country. They tend to view America as a Christian nation. They want to get back to a truly free market and the rule of law. And, mostly, they really, really fear President Obama and the damage he can do in the next four years. Of paramount importance is getting him out of office.

Faction Three: "I'm voting for Virgil Goode." They call themselves theonomists. They want a Christian leader, a Biblical legal system, and a Biblically moral nation. The idea of putting a Mormon in office to place this nation back in the favor of God is not just laughable; it is anathema. A Christian governor for a Christian nation is not the best hope; it is the only hope.

Faction Four: "I'm voting for Ron Paul." The priority of limited government for the State restricts the power of the State to protecting citizens from each other--not from themselves. The priority of self-government for the Individual puts no restrictions on personal liberty--no matter how ugly that looks. He will not let the State do the job of the Church or of the Family. And as long as the president understands that, he can be a Muslim or a Mormon or anything else.

Meanwhile, one faction tells me God will judge me for not voting for Candidate X. Another faction tells me God will judge me for voting for Candidate X. Godly preachers tell me to be pragmatic. Godly preachers tell me to be principled. One faction claims there's Biblical support for voting. Another faction claims there's no Biblical support for voting. I got one message telling me to stop trying to interfere with the election and that my arguments won't sway anyone. I've gotten so many messages thanking me for talking and telling me that they're thinking critically for the first time that I've lost count.

Gridlock, indeed.

Fortunately, I don't have to keep it all straight.
There is a King coming back.
He'll correct my heresy...
and yours, too.
He'll straighten it all out for us...
every crooked path.

No matter who is president, Jesus is King.
Worship the King.

Every valley shall be filled,
And every mountain and hill shall be made low.
And the crooked shall be made straight,
And the rough places shall become level ways. Luke 3:5 

Sunday's Coming

"I think we created a monster," my mom whispered to me one Sunday after church. She had asked Brett and me to Sunday dinner that night. And when it comes to cooking, my mom's no slouch, let me tell you.
Still, Brett hesitated.
I gave him the evil eye.

But to no avail.
Nothin' doin'.
Today was Sunday.
He was going home to take a nap, watch some football, maybe...putz.
But, no, he was not going out.

And to think we had done all of this to him...

When Brett and I were dating/engaged, we would go to church and then head to my parents' house for some R&R.
Pool.
Steaks on the grill.
Maybe some reading.

At first, all the sitting still nearly drove him mad. Sunday, to him, was a day for running errands, fixing stuff, hitting the grocery store.
Bachelors.
What do they know?

So when he started hanging out with my family, he thought all this 'resting' was wasting time. But then...
...it started to grow on him. And by the time we said, "I do," he was a Sabbath convert. Big time. Which is why he politely but firmly declined my mom's invitation to Sunday dinner.

Harumph.

And for the past 24 years,  Sunday as Sabbath has taken a firm root in the Adams' home.
He likes it like that.
And so do I.

We love our church, and we love our church family.
But after we've gotten in some fellowship time, he and I are both sneaking glances at the clock and edging towards the door.
"Fenuccis!" he yells, and all the shorter Adams' (and the taller ones, too) start heading for the Blue Whale.
And the Blue Whale starts heading for home.

Home.
That's where Sabbath, properly observed, is spent. At least in our family.
If we're spending Sunday with you, and you are not related to us, it's because we like you. We really, really like you.

We pile into the kitchen, and it's a flurry of kicked-off shoes, dropped purses, ditched Bibles, and "I'm hungry!" We eat enough to get the little guy happily off to nap time and then...rest.
Book pages fluttering.
Disney movie going upstairs.
Afghans and football and...quiet.

Then, my favorite part of Sunday: dinner.
No matter what we've been doing the rest of the week, how many meetings or practices or activities or ...or...or...Sunday arrives. And so does Sunday dinner. It's the one night we're guaranteed to have everyone at his place. Candles. Stemware. Yea, even sometimes cloth napkins (that is, when I have failed to replenish the paper variety).  This is serious business, people.

And there, around the table, family happens.
Sermon talk.
Laughter.
Foodie observations.
And while we tend to guard family mealtime during the week, there's just something about Sunday dinner that makes us all linger a little longer around the table.

When we were married, the pastor exhorted us to be faithful to establish traditions.
We listened.
Sunday is one of our most foundational traditions.

This past Sunday, dinner lasted a little longer.
A cold front had blown in, so we piled the dinner dishes in the sink and moved to the backyard.
We lit a fire in the fire-pit; we pulled out lawn chairs; we roasted marshmallows and drank hot cocoa.

The troubles of the day and the worries of the week faded in the moonlight.
We told stories.
We did screaming yellow zippers,
and Cincinnati fire kites.
We laughed and chattered under the full moon.

Sunday is the day we join in the fellowship of the saints and corporate worship and the preaching of the Word.
But Sunday is also the day that reminds us that we can rest.

Rest is a privilege.
Rest is for those whose trust is in the Lord.
Rest is a good gift from a Great Redeemer.

No matter how crazy or chaotic or fragmented or worrisome the other six days of the week can be...
our family celebrates the grace of rest on Sunday...
...because we need the reminder not just of weekly rest
but of the eternal rest that was secured for us at the Cross.

And Sunday has a way of doing that.