Who are you voting for? Some conversational advice

I will add to my previous comments about political conversations that this way of talking and thinking is very hard. I wrote that post on a happy afternoon after a long conversation with people whose thought processes are similar to my own, although their conclusions differ wildly. I am quite aware that this is not always the case, and that there are people who make these conversations painful no matter how hard you try. I name no names.

I don't want to seem naive on this point; I interact with enough people every day, even on a small campus, that I know how difficult it is to have hard conversations graciously when the other person seems dead set against that very thing. Even when they are on board with your approach, basic cultural and vocabulary differences sometimes make meaningful conversation practically impossible. So here are a few quick tips on talking with people who disagree with you on politics - or any other sensitive topic:

1. Remember humanity
I do mean that you should remember that you are human and they are human, and for that very reason you will both be wrong about something. However, I also mean that everyone should remember that our conversations have implications for the rest of humanity, for the great questions of life and death, poverty and wealth. If you are in a position to talk about these things, you are probably in a position to do something about them. It's really not about you at all.

2. Benefit of the doubt
I tend to think that I am better at this than your average grad student - why do we immediately assume that because someone believes x, they will also affirm r, e and m? Just because someone thinks differently does not mean that they have sold their souls or that they would affirm the agenda of a totalitarian regime. As you can see, these other letters simply do not follow, except in the word extreme.* 

3. Practice
This may seem callous of me, but at some point conversations have to come down to personal integrity. You're probably not going to convince "the other guy," whoever they are, that you are right and their entire cognitive framework is skewed, unless you have unwittingly stumbled on a great work of the Holy Spirit. Which is possible. In most cases, however, you can talk until you're blue in the face only to discover that they weren't listening to you at all, but instead assuming that you affirm r, e and m as well as x. So do this instead of asphyxiating: get in the habit of communicating what you want to say clearly, concisely, and respectfully. Even if that person never gets it, perhaps the practice you have in this conversation will help you be more graceful and persuasive in your next encounter with disagreement.

I hope to soon write a response to my own question: who am I voting for? Hopefully it will be done before election day, but as I said... if an election is the end of the conversation, then we're doing it wrong.

*see what I did there? 

Who are you voting for?

Election Season is coming down to the wire, and I hear that tensions over it are running high. On the small college campus of a Christian school, however, it is easy to be insulated from the outside world and the concerns of the nation. For some students, this begins (or perpetuates) a spirit of apathy; between school, clubs, sports and complaining about the food, there is plenty here to occupy young minds. When someone asks our generation to care, don't we normally ask, what difference does our caring make anyway? "It feels like a lesser-of-two-evils decision," and "voting third party is voting for [insert candidate] anyway" are more thoughtful, but express the same sentiment.

A smaller group of students choose to care - intensely. Much like their parents before them, these students know where they stand, who they should vote for, and often what the Bible says about it. The Geneva College Republicans have meetings and t-shirts and an informational table once in a while. There is a quieter, but no less dedicated, group of Democrats furthering their cause on campus. It would be unfair to say that their devotion does no good, but the polarization of their views often lends itself to intimidation rather than honest conversation.

Honest conversation is something that our campus desperately needs, but sometimes the election conversation is ended before it begins because of our fatalistic - or pugilistic - attitudes. This election season, however, I have a new perspective to offer you; new to me, although I can hope that it is not new to you.

Although it sometimes seems that Christians have more to learn about suspending judgment than the rest of the world, there IS something unique about having these conversations at a Christian school, or even more specifically, at Geneva. To summarize the Reformed perspective, we understand the Bible to be God's story which tells us of the good creation of all things, the brokenness of all things, the redemption of all things, and the hope (promise!) of restoration for all things. We, as Christians, are part of the redemption: who we are and what we do, after we have encountered Christ, is inexorably linked to God's love for his creation. It is our duty to represent God well and work toward that final restoration (Romans 8:18-30).

Thinking of the world in this way, therefore, leads me to believe that the real question in our conversations is not, "what do you think about [insert party or candidate]?" It is, "Who and what do you care about?" It is, "How does the current political climate, or a particular election or candidate, impact that thing or those people that you care about?" In the student ministry office we have been drawing attention to the election as often as we can. We frequently disagree - and we know when the conversation starts that we will disagree - but that doesn't stop us from talking about it. None of us questions the others' salvation when we discover that they are registered Democrat, or that they might support a pro-choice candidate, or that they are okay with rich people remaining rich. The discussion is about more than a "position" that can be summarized in one sentence on a political poll. I find it impossible to dismiss the input of a friend when I know that their position, like mine, is driven by a deep love for the poor and the oppressed; our political disagreement grows out of that love, but does not change it.

I find hope in having conversations about politics that end with hope rather than anger, and in having conversations that recognize that one election - or even all elections of all time - will neither fix nor damn the world. Life is bigger than that, and God is certainly bigger than that. In the end, whether there is a Republican, Democrat, or cartoon character in the White House, the things we care about will not change, the people we love will have no less need. Political discussions are important, laws are important, deciding how to vote and discovering the issues is important... but never forget that they are not the most important things.

The conversations that start because of politics cannot end with an election. If we really care about these things, there is no "win" or "lose" for us, only more or less difficult work for us to do as we move forward, with hope, to the work that God has given us:

He has told you, O man, what is good,
     and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
     and to walk humbly with your God? 

                     Micah 6:8 

Teaching and Shalom

As a student of Higher Education, I spend a portion of every day (including Sundays) immersed in literature, in new and old perspectives of what education could be, should be, how it is and might be done, and every now and again I get to meet some of the people who make these things happen. I am always daunted at the prospect of blogging any of my thoughts; first, because I cannot be sure that my audience is familiar with the material, and second, because I might be wrong. (I know, it would be absolutely tragic to put a potentially incorrect statement on the internet - who does that?)

In our most recent class, however, we have been reading from Nicholas Wolterstorff's book Educating for Shalom. I am almost certain, based on the title and a certain repetitive refrain within the collection of essays, that Wolterstorff is arguing that the end goal of Christian Higher Education is "shalom" - that is, the biblical vision for justice that goes beyond our usual definition: "Shalom incorporates right relationships in general, whether or not those are required by justice; right relationships to God, to one's fellow human beings, to nature, and to oneself. The shalom community is not merely the just community but is the responsible community, in which God's laws for our multifaceted existence are obeyed" (23). The byline of the book - Essays on Christian Higher Education - makes it clear that Wolterstorff is writing to a very particular audience; in fact, he writes to an audience that should be easily convinced by his pedagogy.

I have not found a way to deny his premise. To be entirely honest, it may be too broad for anyone to deny: who in their right mind rejects world peace as a worthy goal for any societal institution, let alone higher education? However, since there will always be people who, from choice or disposition, require that all questions be answered, I had to ask the following question of this premise: if this is true, can you - should you - really do it? Again, it would be odd to reject the idea that shalom is the appropriate end of Christian higher education, but what if we believe this but do not have the honor of working at a Christian institution?

Can I advocate for shalom to students who are not looking for it? Is it unfair to a student to "indoctrinate" them rather than to give them a fair "objective" choice between this and any other end? I would say that the question is better phrased "Can I not do these things?" Because shalom is good. Absolutely good. That is the point of it, to be good for all people, closer to the love and reconciliation of Christ. If we really believe it, then we cannot help wanting this. We have to believe that every student wants this, that this will improve their human experience... even if they are not looking for it.

The question is raised again as I write my "philosophy of education." If I were submitting this statement to a public institution, how would I state my case without what I believe about humanity made Imago Dei? If the role of the professor is to profess truth, and what I believe to be true is recognizably Christian, what do I do?

I may be simplifying the issue, but I am convinced that there is nothing for it - at some point, perhaps far earlier than we would imagine, the only answer is Christ. Christ-followers may be reacquainting themselves with the embodied gospel, the gospel that demonstrates love and justice instead of simply talking about them, and that is a good thing. However, we cannot hide behind our actions and pretend it is enough. If we truly believe what we claim to believe, action will not be enough.

At some point, the words must be said; God help us say them well.