Dear President-Elect Trump:
Eighty-three percent of Americans identify themselves as Christian—including you. While I write today from the Christian perspective, it is important to note that other faiths—Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and others have similar beliefs.
Christians are followers of Jesus Christ. Christians seek to serve in the world and to act how Jesus would act if He were acting instead of them. When Christians serve as Jesus would serve, they qualify to bless the world with the portion of Jesus’ love that flows through them—the measure of that portion being dependent on how closely their efforts align with how Jesus would serve or act if he were doing it personally. Correspondingly, the measure of that power diminishes when our efforts stray from how he would serve.
Worse yet, the power of our service diminishes to the extent that we do such service in our name and for our purposes, rather than doing so selflessly.
In addition to serving, Jesus intends for his followers to develop His qualities and characteristics–to be humble; to be long-suffering, and kind; to not envy, to not be puffed up, to seek not his or her own, to not be easily provoked.
Serious followers of Jesus from every Christian religion feel the responsibility to serve others and to do so in a manner that is worthy of being called a Christian.
In a world of increasing need, opportunities for service to individuals, one’s community, or the world at large have increased. Those who desire to serve others, therefore, have a nearly limitless array of choice in what I call the marketplace of need. Followers of Jesus offer up their devotion to Jesus through the service of their choice.
Service in the public square—political service—is just one kiosk in the ever-expanding market place of need, but it should be an essential stop in the market place for all. Political service takes all forms, whether as a candidate, an office holder, or as a committed citizen.
Political service and involvement in the public square, however, is tricky work for the serious Christian. How does one campaign for office, for example, without seeking his or her own in a world where “public service” has gradually become a euphemism for a high perked job instead of selfless sacrifice to move the public good along?
How does the Christian not become puffed up, when the quality of his or her work is rated in publicly discussed and developed approval ratings?
How does the Christian avoid feeling provoked when only wanting to exercise a right of free speech is met with hatred, disdain, and at times violence?
How does the Christian disciple retain any vestige of humility when his or her success in the public arena is dependent on the ability to raise oneself above an opponent.
It is not surprising, therefore, to understand why followers of Jesus either choose other opportunities of service in the marketplace of need or often elect to separate their religious beliefs from their political practices. Whether one is an officeholder or merely an interested citizen, the rationalizations and the justifications are similar:
I cannot make a difference if I don’t play by the system’s rules. Therefore, I will play by the system’s rules to become part of it, and then I will change it. I will denigrate my opponents. I will point out their flaws and blemishes. I will minimize my candidates or my own weaknesses with the best spin that I can muster. I will plot and plan for how to make myself or my candidate look good.
In so doing, we dismember the real, yet invisible parts of us that could make the real difference–the quickening and enlarging power of pure love as taught and exemplified by Jesus.
It is ironic that we perceive the armaments of Christianity—love, kindness, meekness, humility—as unnecessarily constricting and heavy for competition in the political races of the day when they are the very attributes that grant us real power. Hence, we lay them down, justifying in our minds, that the only way to win and to thus make a difference is by unyoking ourselves, at least temporarily from Christian virtues. We assume that absent the weight, we will run more competitively against those who regard such Christian virtues as a ball and chain, rather than an anchor to our souls.
We often fail to see that Jesus is a God of ironies—that he can feed 5000 people with a few loaves and fishes and have more left over than he had at the beginning; that water turned to wine at the end of the celebration is the best of all; that somehow a ragtag group of American farmers and woodsmen could defeat the strongest power on earth; that it is only by losing our life that we find it. That the anchor of Christ provides the lift for us to expand our views and find inspired remedies to our problems.
Why would it be any different today? The answer lies in the irony. It is in loving, not fearing, each other. We face very uncertain times, and we deal with sure problems. The power of love is not merely symbolic. It is the power to heal hearts and to heal nations.
The solutions to our problems today will not be found in the current feuding political powers of the day but in steadfastly seeking the power of love. While the anger and wrath that fear spawns, and which we see all around us, will continue to motivate some, there is a better way. Love cannot inspire the angry mind, nor will its healing power save a proud nation.
Americans hold a duty to develop the tools and power that flows from love as we participate in the public square. The power of love is an expansive power that teaches us all things, including the power to find the solutions to health care, immigration, our burgeoning deficit, and every other problem. We are better off with a few uneducated men and women devoted to and guided by a love that we are a body full of angry yet educated policymakers.
Undoubtedly, as we seek the power of love while serving in the public square, as we boldly declare the real source of our power—which is love and not ourselves—there will be those who ridicule and scorn. But let us remember that our objective is not popularity, it is to say and to do the things that heal our nation.
Political scientist and Christian Neal Maxwell said it this way: It may well be that as our time comes to “suffer shame for his name” (Acts 5:41), some of that special stress will grow out of that portion of discipleship which involves citizenship.”
Ultimately, our quest should not be to save the nation, and it should be to develop the tools of love and to allow love to do with our collective lives, whatever it will. So it was with the founders of our nation. Said John Adams when others were vacillating on the bold step of declaring independence: “Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in the beginning, we aimed not at independence. But there’s a divinity that shapes our ends . . . Why, then, should we defer the Declaration?”
As Americans, it is time that we give our hands and hearts to the pursuit of solutions found only through the power of love.
Sincerely,
David O. Leavitt
