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By Anneli Matheson
There is nothing like a heated debate over religion or
politics to spoil a perfectly good dinner party (haircut, dentist
appointment, or any other number of social affairs). Past elections both in
the U.S. and Canada have been particularly intense and, at times, bitter,
creating many awkward meals I am sure.
I moved to Canada over two years ago, for graduate
school, and frequently found myself in tense debates about world leaders,
politics and my native country the United States. Such debates are always
uncomfortable. You know what I’m talking about. The atmosphere is
suddenly charged with the electric energy of disagreement, particularly
when someone has a different opinion about the environment, abortion or
war. And it is in such moments, (when we erupt with outbursts like
“You are wrong, idiot!”) that the very heart of our faith is
tested.
Ballot box faith
Consider that Jesus summarized the law as love for God and
neighbour. Love even when every fibre of our being wants to shred their
political or spiritual views to bits! Like any sincere Christian, I want to
vote for leaders I hope will work to improve the country, and not just vote
out of a crisis mentality. I do not want an applied faith that is so small
that I only sees political enemies, a ballot box-size faith, so that I vote
out of fear, or a faith that would shout obscene names rather than seek to
understand. What if the other leader is elected? How will I model Christ
then?
Conflict
I was
studying in a café recently, strategically positioned near two
occupied comfy chairs. Two men sat drinking coffee. I was ready to claim a
chair as soon as they left. But soon a loud argument disrupted my reading.
The two men, friends I assume, were arguing about what security measures
should be taken in response to the latest terrorist attack. Each constantly
interrupted the other, neither listened, and suddenly one pushed away from
the table and stood up. “You are just full of sh••!” he spat,
his coffee mug teetering. He left the café, and after lingering a
few seconds his friend followed.
Crash! More than a coffee mug broke that day.
Though the comfy chairs were now vacant I stayed in my
hard chair at the small table. To be honest, I was afraid of bad karma . .
. bad, argumentative ‘chair karma’!
Conversation
Elections
are always high stakes affairs. We have to vote on big, sometimes
contentious issues such as the environment, war, the economy, marriage and
abortion. I wish those two men in the café had known how to have a
conversation and not merely an argument. Conversation only happens when
people are willing to listen to each other, ask questions, and at least try
to understand why someone cares about what they care about.
I used to teach worldview studies, and the more I
think about it the more convinced I am that our worldview is as complexly
intertwined with us as our very anatomy.
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Disagreement, especially over politics and religion,
can be an opportunity to listen, converse and build relationships. I am not
saying we should avoid disagreement, bite our tongues and just nod. But I
am saying it should make all the difference in the world how a follower of
Christ behaves in disagreement; too often opinions are exchanged like
gunfire with no possibility for friendship to begin or continue. I have
seen too many bright students willing to debate an opponent, sharpening
arguments and rebuttals, never considering the cost of their victory.
Christ’s ‘dinner party’
Christians should be the
most willing listeners and the most gracious speakers. But when we verbally
shred people we lose sight of Jesus by not loving our neighbour. We have a
lot to learn from his example, that truth is best shared through the
incarnation of relationship.
Perhaps politics only ruins dinner when space is not
created for gracious conversation. Before he died, Christ gathered his
friends around him for a symbolic supper that pointed to his death as the
ultimate means of uniting them in fellowship.
When we gather for dinner, let us love one another,
not only as we pass the roast beef and potatoes, but as we disagree.
Gracious ears – gentle mouths
As we pray for gracious ears and
gentle mouths let us remember that our hope is not rooted in elections or
always being right, but rooted in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus
Christ. We love Jesus by loving one another, even when opinions clash. Our
faith is not merely ballot box-size faith, but full of hope, received grace
and a renewed vision of what it means to be human – in short, a faith
that completely reshapes how we treat one another whether we share the same
opinions or not.
I suggest you have a dinner party. What a beautiful
setting for Christians to show culture that following Jesus does not mean
you have to be rude, dogmatic or hostile. Ask good questions while you eat,
as you share that intimate space too often neglected. So, “pass me
the roast beef, would you? Oh and tell me about how you voted because I
want to listen.”
Options Winter 2009
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