11:7,6 - The Mennonite

Gerald Shenk
teaches at
Eastern Mennonite
Seminary,
Harrisonburg,
Va.
This article is
available as an
audio file at
www.The
Mennonite.org
38 TheMennonite November 7, 2006
REAL FAMILIES
Families divided by politics
Another election season has passed. Fierce
storms roiled the body politic. Sudden new
controversies provided endless entertainment
in the talking heads industry. Partisan powers
scrambled to identify wedge issues that pull us
apart, stir us from our lethargy and secure our
allegiance in the binary rituals of voting. Yes/No,
these/those, for/against, incumbent/challenger—
What shall we do with such portentous choices?
From what I’ve observed, families often have
difficulty talking about their political differences.
Perhaps, as the business world suggests, we
decide it’s better simply to avoid topics that produce
unwelcome tensions. When as newlyweds in
California for seminary studies, my wife and I in
1975 took marginal employment at Stump
Mortuary in exchange for no-cost lodging. The
directors reflected prevailing wisdom: “Two topics
we don’t discuss with our clients are politics and
religion.” They sought seminarians for the job but
forbade these realms of predictable controversy.
The political season creates opportunities in the
courses I teach. When we consider the social context
of theology, for example, the uses and misuses
of religion in political campaigns beg for critical
analysis. Probing the ubiquitous voters’ guides
reveals disturbing assumptions. And while I do not
conceal my own commitments, I try to prevent
classroom discussions from degenerating into banter
and partisan rhetoric. My goal is to make the
classroom a safe space for examining a wide range
of opinions. Shouldn’t it be so in our families also?
I’ve made this my goal in my family. We talk politics
a lot; we’ve gone to rallies together and follow
multiple news sources. But party loyalty isn’t at
the heart of it. Rather, we speak of underlying values
that cut across party lines. We complexify
issues; we discuss voting options, but all the while
we keep a larger frame of reference in view—the
kingdom of God.
Strange things happen, however, when people
whose values we thought we knew suddenly pop
up on the other side of the gulfs that divide us. An
unaccompanied minor at a family reunion blurts
out a political slogan that puts him at odds with the
rest of those present, and awkward silence ensues.
A meanspirited bumper sticker shows up at a family
gathering, too provocative for civil discourse.
I am drawn to an approach I observed during a
similar season of political hyperventilation while
we sojourned at Reba Place Church in Evanston,
Ill. In 1984, the body politic was riven with fears of
militarism on one side and concerns over abortion
on the other: “How can you be a Christian and support
an abortion advocate like Mondale?” And just
as passionately, “How can you be a Christian in
this church and support a warmonger like
Reagan?” The discussion went beyond careful
nuances and subtle distinctions. The congregation
and its leaders could have pulled apart into partisan
camps.
The wise elders took prompt action to convene
a Sunday afternoon forum for the whole church
and invited people from “each side” to make brief
presentations.
The single question, as I recall: How does your
evaluation of issues in this campaign reflect your
commitments to God’s kingdom?
We listened carefully to accounts from either
side of the political divide. These were not the
usual sets of Democratic or Republican rhetoric.
Rather, each began with faith affirmations, rooted
in our shared vision of the reign of God. We joined
in commitments to life, to care for those in need
and to a vision for peace across the world’s most
painful divisions. Within this larger framework,
some moved toward engagement with the lives of
the unborn, while others urged resistance to militarist
campaigns. Each side had persuasive points,
but the aim was not to recruit the undecided into
one camp or the other. Rather, each put forth,
along with their sincere convictions, an acknowledgement
that the deeper concerns of the other
side also carried weight with them.
The wisdom of the elders moved us beyond the
simplistic boosterism of slogans and T-shirts in the
heat of the election. They let us hear that none of
the choices was perfect. And even if we left just as
convinced of our personal preferences among the
available candidates, we were also more able to
answer the original grating questions of how they
can be Christians in this fellowship and support
candidate X.
Perhaps this approach can be used in our families
as well. When our values cut across party
lines, because we belong first to God’s higher
kingdom, then we can prod each other to show
our children a better way. Two people I most
admire are married, yet she votes Democrat and
he Republican. Their love and respect for each
other, even while differing substantially on their
choice of candidates, is a reminder in our family
about the larger kingdom purposes they both
serve. TM