Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with each other in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. Ephesians 4:2-3
Basically my excuse for glancing through the newspaper every morning before my quiet reflective time is that I am bringing these events into my meditations and prayers. So today, as I am flipping throughs stories about refugee camps full of Syrians, drug tests for middle school athletes, concealed gun permits on the University of Colorado and 140 million dollar salaries for CEOs of nonprofit organizations, I read about Ralph Reed.
“God’s right-hand man,” plans to unleash a sophisticated, microtargeted get-out-the-evangelical-vote operation that he believes could nudge open a margin of victory if Mr. Romney can keep the race close. In the coming weeks, he says, each of those 17.1 million registered voters in 15 key states will receive three phone calls and at least three pieces of mail. Seven million of them will get e-mail and text messages. Two million will be visited by one of more than 5,000 volunteers. Over 25 million voter guides will be distributed in 117,000 churches. He admits what seems an audacious prediction: that record numbers of socially conservative evangelical Protestants will turn out for the first presidential election in history without a Protestant on the Republican ticket. “God,” he said with a laugh, “has a sense of humor.” That may be, but Mr. Reed has a plan. And he has the money to back it up: an estimated $10 million to $12 million from contributors across the Republican spectrum, according to a partial list of donors and people with direct knowledge of his operation.
His two big focal points is the President’s health care overall which requires all insurance companies, even religious ones, to provide free contraceptives and outlawing gay marriage.
And beyond the fact that it breaks my heart that not only all the money and the power in our political systems says that these are the two top issues that binds the hearts of followers of Christ, even more so it is frightfully humbling to identify myself publicly as a follower of Jesus Christ when this is the crowd in which I make my pilgrimage.
And cannot this money be spent on low-income prenatal counseling or after-school tutoring or providing a few more Child Protection Services workers or people who process papers at Veteran's Affairs or mosquito netting in the Sudan or even billions and billions of little red Bibles in five different languages. But rather “God’s Right-hand man” is called to bother people at dinner time and provide a few more cents to the folks at the United States Post Office, which isn’t entirely a bad thing.
I cannot even begin to wrap my brain around how my fellow filled-with-the-Holy-Spirit others see this as following Jesus, someone who assiduously avoided politics as being “horses and chariots” in whom man puts his trust, but even more clearly spoke against aligning oneself with wealth and power. Not even to begin to find a place for his clearly delineated How Then Shall We Live Sermon on the Mount. Now I can argue logic and consistency and organize long lines of Scriptures triple referenced with my brothers. All day long, and probably long into the night as well.
But rather, I am told to bear with each other in love, striving for unity through the bond of peace.
But what about them, I sputter, what about the logs and trunks and branches poking out of their eyes?
What is that to you?
Maybe it’s time for a long walk in the desert.
And as I examine my own right hand, starting to crumple and twist a bit with arthritis and nicely bespeckled with too-much-sun spots, I can raise it. I can stand up, raise my hand and join Ananias and say, “Here I am, LORD.” Completely humble and gentle, but with a fire in my belly. Here I am, LORD.
Holy Spirit, help my heart to be soft and malleable and full of courage. Help me to
remember who I really am. Help me to overflow with genuine love, and act out of that
love, rather than just adding “one more thing.” Fill me with yourself.
