My First Time Voting Democratic and Waging the Right War

This year I’m voting for a Democratic Presidential nominee for the first time in my life. But like everything else in my life, that decision is nuanced.

So before you declare this a victory for your side (‘another one has seen the light!’) or a big disappointment (‘she’s caving to liberal messaging’), hear me out.

Four thoughts, fourth being perhaps the most important.

1. By my vote, I am not condoning the murder of unborn children.

I am vocally, unashamedly, pro-life. Although some people would like to reduce the complexity of the abortion issue into very black and white terms (You’re either for women or against their rights - You’re either for babies or you’re child killers), I call BS. These are false dichotomies that try to oversimplify a complex issue.  I refuse to dehumanize others to prop up my own sense of righteousness; of being on the ‘right side’. Yes, the stakes are high. But no, it’s not either-or (which makes for bad fundraising and base rallying, huh?).

I believe that government has a moral duty to protect life (policies from seat belts, physical abuse, to murder). So, although I don’t believe anyone should tell what a woman should do with her body, I believe government has a role to protect unborn children. With that said, I don’t think any amount of conservative-leaning Supreme Court Justices will overturn Roe vs Wade. I think abortion is here to stay. I think people of faith unwisely put all their eggs in this pro-life basket when they vote, not because they should just accept defeat (we shouldn’t on issues we’re passionate about, just like we shouldn’t accept systemic racism), but unwisely because they’re willing to do it at any cost.

It’s a noble cross to die on; protecting unborn children. The innocent. The fragile. The vulnerable. The voiceless. It’s an easy victim to protect. A lot easier than protecting the right to live of a big black man in the ghetto wearing a black hoodie late at night. Herein lies the problem. We consciously or unconsciously measure the value of lives, and while babies may be the easier choice, it’s not the only choice.

I refuse to think that the only pro-life way to vote is Republican. And if I zoom out and really think about it, expecting votes to solve unwanted pregnancies is like trying to solve self-harm ideation by making suicide illegal. Instead of fixating on legislation to force people in difficult situations to keep their unborn child, I wish we’d spend our votes, resources, and more importantly our compassion, helping prevent these difficult situations/decisions in the first place. Which, of course, is more complicated and inconvenient than checking a box on our ballot.

I’ll end with this question: If you vote for Trump strictly because of his pro-life policies, can you provide statistical analysis that shows, despite a steady decline in abortion since 1990, a notable decline over the last four years? Yes, he’s removed funding. Yes, he sat a more conservative SCJ, but when does it actually save lives? Voting based on this one policy might feel noble and right, but dying on this ideological cross without it bearing fruit is a disheartening reality. One that needs to be reconciled when there other moral costs being paid by your vote.

2. I can not separate the character of a person from the power of the person.

Which makes happily engaging in politics feel pretty impossible. It’s also why I can’t vote for Trump, not in 2016 and not now. Just because God can use imperfect people (something I’ve heard often in circles of faith in the past four years) doesn’t mean we should elect them to the most powerful position in the world. Sure, no one is imperfect. Sure, there’s corruption on all sides. Sure, Bill Clinton had affairs too. Fair. Also, Trump is different. Perhaps vile egos have always filled the White House, Republican or Democrat, but Trump does so unapologetically in public spaces. As a person of faith, I believe there is a moral bankruptcy that no Bible-toting, scripture referencing, or pastoral endorsements can sugarcoat.

The flip side, it’s also why I have a hard time with Biden. The same women who marched in 2017 holding signs saying “Believe Women”, were quick to diminish the testimony of Tara Reade who courageously shared how Biden sexually assaulted her in 1993. We protest and march and weep for Christine Blasey Ford but want ‘more of the story’ of Tara Reade before we believe her. It’s a nasty, sobering reality check, isn’t it? Like this week, how the violent past of Jacob Blake, the man of color who was shot 7 times in the back by police officers, was used as justification because he’s a bad guy and deserved it. Why should we defend a guy like that?

Oh God, help us. Save us from dehumanizing and devaluing people who do not feed our insatiable appetite to feel justified in our personal opinions, protests, words and votes.

Of one thing I am certain: we will vote for a sinner in every election for the rest of our lives. No doubt. But I can not, I will not, vote for someone who I perceive to be severely morally bankrupt, and not only that, leeches on to the ‘Religious Right’ as his means to maintain tyrannical power. Character does matter. It is no wonder that people on the outside of conservative religious thought are completely perplexed by this duality. Me too.

3. I want a moderate nominee.

I think many of us, if we were being honest, have been failed by this two party system. And in the past, while most campaigning nominees craft messaging ‘toward the middle’ during election years, it seems this election, the nominees are pandering to the extremes. Which is why it makes sense that, knowing the appeal of a moderate might swing votes, Vice President Pence shared at the Republican National Conference this week that Biden was just a ‘Trojan horse for the radical left’.

Smart. Diminish the moderate. Make them look like a weak pawn. Maybe Pence is right. Maybe he’s wrong. But gosh darn, I want to give a moderate a fighting chance.

Most significantly…
4. I will not wage war.

I think that Donald Trump became President partially because Christians  have felt mounting aggression from a culture who severely misunderstands them. Criticism of powerful faith leaders isn’t necessarily misplaced, but to enthusiastically label conservative Christians as heartless, anti-women, anti-immigrant, greedy, close-minded bigots is, itself, a close-minded, heartless, and just plain erroneous judgement. It feels like war is being waged against conservative Christians. No one wants to hear of our nuance. No one wants to hear us out. It’s easier to misunderstand, label, and make us the enemy. It’s no surprise then that you get a defensive, fearful, stubborn group of believers voting for someone who promises to change the system. Heels dig in. Walls go up. Opinions get stubborn. Lines are drawn. Not only that, many internalize that war not just against them personally and their values, but against God Himself. Battle on.

Not me, though. I can not love people well, as Jesus overtly commands, if I am waging war against them to defend my faith.

A government not allowing the 10 Commandments posted in court rooms or public prayer led in schools (or large gatherings during a health pandemic) might feel like an affront to God and His people. But imagine yourself living as a Christian in a Muslim Middle Eastern country where legislation favors Muslim thought and practices over yours. Is this how government is supposed to rule, as a moral enforcer of a particular faith? Why do we expect that here - that all people regardless of their own personal beliefs and convictions should be led in Christian prayer by a public employee, can only marry certain people, or see the tenants of a dominating faith posted in government buildings? Some might suggest that these are just the beginning - that more persecution will come. But that’s two tempting cognitive distortions called catastrophizing and fortune telling. I suggest that politics, legislation, plaques, and physical church buildings were not God’s sovereign design to spread His love and mercy throughout the world and yet, for many of us, it’s bitterness about these things that distance us from the very people whom we want to see experience the restorative, life-changing, power of God.

And something else to consider. God doesn’t actually need defending. As Charles Spurgeon says, “The Word of God is like a lion. You don’t have to defend a lion. All you have to do is let the lion loose, and the lion will defend itself.”

God’s gonna be okay, friends.

I anticipated 2020 like I do my dentist appointments: with apprehension.

Which is why Missy Bird and myself created a manifesto for 2020 – ten personal commitments to loving and honoring well during this chaotic year (little did we know how chaotic). Our commitments have been tested, for sure. It hasn’t been easy. It’s been really uncomfortable for me personally - and time consuming. But it’s oh so right.

The battle is on, friends, not to defend God and His people, but against the temptations to dismiss, devalue, diminish, and dehumanize each other. This is the war to wage.

Will you join us?

“Christ is not American. The Church that follows Christ is global. Churches in the US should not be embassies for America but for the Kingdom of God. The National Anthem is not a Gospel song. And the nationalistic rhetoric of ‘America First’ is contrary to Christ.”

-Bernice King