I had a long and wonderful chat with my oldest driving home from volleyball about politics and the election. I felt so proud as a father that my son has taken an interest in matters of justice, to see him mature, care, and think (and also grace me with talking to his poor, uncool Dad). The conversation was spurn on by the fact that I had bought a used copy of a book by Jimmy Carter awhile ago, and I pulled it off my shelf that day looking for a quotation, all to find that it was actually signed by Carter itself. I felt a drive to read the whole book out of some impression of just how precious this work was, how pertinent for our time. I could not put it down, reading his wise and saintly words.

So, it spurred a conversation about why don’t all Christians think the same way about politics with my son. I tried to say there have been Christian influences in all the different political parties in Canada and it depends on what set of concerns some Christians believe are the most important. At University of Toronto, I had the pleasure of being the TA for Rev. Dr. Reginald Stackhouse for his course on the Ethics of Wealth and Poverty in the Christian tradition. He was a man who served at one point as an Anglican priest and a Red Tory MP before becoming a professor, and he got me to read Edmund Burke (the principle thinker of what it means to be “progressive conservative”: the notion that social progress can be enacted through traditional values and institutions), as well as the great Canadian philosopher, George Grant, who believed in a timeless good that must found our approaches to liberty and use of technology. Grant’s vision of a Canadian Nationalism against American corporate, empire-like forces is as important today as it was then. At a conference as U of T, I also had the pleasure of meeting and having a conversation with Nicholas Wolterstorff, and he lectured on his book, which shows how the liberal tradition and its commitment to inalienable human rights is actually, historically, based on the Christian commitment to humans being made in the image of God. Human rights were developed in Europe by Christians well before the Enlightenment, and Christians continue to taken up this logic: if humans have dignity being made in God’s image, there are certain things we will do to uphold that dignity and certain things we will not against that, whether that is banning the death penalty or refusing as best we can to violate the choices we all have to make as to what our convictions are and which God will we worship (or not). If God sees us all as having equal worth we ought to live towards a way of realizing that, despite as well as in and through our differences. I took courses at the Institute for Christians Studies—a wonderful learning community of Christian philosophers—and did course work on the Frankfurt school of critical theory: mostly Jewish philosophers that saw what happened in Nazi Germany and in Russia with Stalinist-Lenninist Communism and reflected deeply on the nature of oppression and authoritarianism in culture. Theodor Adorno’s work, Minima Moralia, is an attempt to ponder “all things broken awaiting messianic light” in a way that has the kind of brutal honesty a modern prophet should have. Also, I pastored a church that had historic roots in the Social Gospel: folks who walked with Tommy Douglas, fighting for unions and worker rights. Douglas believed in universal health care because if we need our bodies to be free, to make health based on one’s financial means was to directly say the rich are worth more than the poor and will thus always be more free. One lady in my church told me how her father, a union advocate for the mines in Sudbury, would at dinner read the Bible and the minutes of parliament and pray God’s kingdom come. The Social Gospel holds that salvation touches all parts of life, not mere souls escaping a hopeless earth to get to a blissful hereafter, and so, seeking a common life where violence is reduced, poverty is alleviated, and illness is healed are all parts of what it means to see “God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Yet, when I was pastoring in Sudbury, I was an active member of the Green Party, supporting them because I was very impressed with Elizabeth May. Green thinking around sustainability combines ethical and fiscal responsibility that deeply impresses me. The local Green candidate, who of course did not have a blessed chance at getting elected (the area is an NDP stronghold), was a friend, an organic farmer that helped the church build our community gardens, and I decided that supporting good people was more important than trying to vote for who I thought could “win.” Christians have all kinds of reasons and influences for thinking the way they do, and my own convictions have changed significantly over my life.

I tried to say that many Christians have not thought well about what convictions they see as applicable to everyone politically and what should be reserved for one’s conscience or their own religious community. Some think issues like abortion, traditional marriage, and somehow denying the realities of what transgender individuals face (much less the responsiblity to make society and church community safe for them) are so clear and uniform in the Bible and Christian tradition that they warrant being something Christians should seek to advance on behalf of everyone—even if others don’t want it (I must admit some frustration with these folks, if only because it feels like the loud default of so many—and let me be the first to say that theologically these matters are not as clear as they often claim). Some are solely concerned at preserving an individual’s liberty against any and all government interference as a chief good (I don’t know how that is possible in modern, interconnected society without this allowing corporations to take over our common life or this merely reinforcing a privileged class’ liberty against a marginalized one but okay). Meanwhile, others see issues of social justice and social rights, how we care for the most vulnerable and voiceless of society through our political and democratic will is really the more apparent convictions that Christians ought to advance as our witness (and of course, others would say these are only things for the churches and charities to do). Others see environmental sustainability as the primary issue effecting human flourishing today and for the future. Some see wars we need to support as essential to advancing good, while other Christians are pacifists, believing Christians should have no part in violence. The list goes on.

On top of that, there are practical complexities to voting in Canada: Does my vote support the local MP (their experience and character), the party and its policies, or the person who will be Prime Minister? How do we ensure an accountable democratic process, honest journalism, and rigorous education so that we can even be at liberty to vote and discuss these things that matter well? (I will here admit my frustration at the stuff being turned out by American-owned news companies in Canada like the Sun and the National Post as opposed to the publicly owned and funded CBC, which, while certainly not unbiased, still offers so much more balance and accuracy). Fundamental to this election for many is a candidate that is economically and morally qualified to stand up to Donald Trump and what Trump means as an existential threat to Canadian prosperity and global stability, but of course, people don’t all agree. There are some Canadians that really do believe Canada should become the 51st state and follow suit.

I hear those voices and I struggle. I struggle to see them as thoughtful, informed, and consistent, but it would be a sad error to believe all the people that disagree with me are obviously dumb or dangerous. And so, I tried to say something to my son that I hope all Christians in this election season can understand: it is not obvious. If you think things are obvious, you are probably doing it wrong. To understand just how complex people and politics are should always be, as a Christian, a cue towards gentleness and understanding. Christians should read, think, and care about their convictions (see the read list above of books that have influenced me), if only to resist the poisonous noice of outrage, scapegoating, and spin that the powers so much want us to drink up and accept as the way things are and should stay, despite it slowly killing us. Don’t listen to the pundits and sycophants. Listen to the great lights of the past for inspiration like Jimmy Carter or MLK, folks who walked with integrity, paid dearly to do what is right, and offer something that will feed our souls in this soulless age. Christians should passionately advocate for justice in our world, but understand Christianity is diverse, the Bible and tradition are many-voiced conversation of what God’s kingdom looks like and how we might see it. I ask myself continually: who am I privileging in thinking this way? Who could I be hurting if this is my vision of an ideal society? Are not those folks just as much God’s children as I? Can my vision of justice really be so if it is willing to leave someone behind? It is possible to be honest without being haughty as well as kind without compromising. In light of that, choose empathy over judgment.