Politicians Are People, Too

“I’v been to over 50 countries. Just got back from Indonesia yesterday.”

I stared at the man in front of me in the voting line. He didn’t look like any world traveler I’d ever known. Dirty ball cap displaying an insignia that may have labeled him a veteran.

He continued, “I speak several languages including Vietnamese, Japanese, Spanish.” He mumbled some intelligible words that sounded foreign. I noticed the rest of his outfit. Dirty jeans and shirt. Well-worn boots.

“Do you have a family?” I asked, looking for common ground.

“One son. He’s 29, but I don’t have much to do with him.”

“How about any spiritual beliefs?”

“Not really. I’m not afraid of dying. I think everyone does whatever they think is right and that’s okay. What about you?”

Here was my chance. “I’m a follower of Jesus. I base my beliefs on the Bible.”

He proceeded to enlighten me on how 90% of the Bible was written by Buddhist monks.

I shut my mouth. He didn’t want to listen, he wanted to talk. At the end of our conversation, he grabbed my arm and told me my husband was a lucky man. Are you reading this, Tom?

Behind me, a young runner-type-woman talked into an iPhone. Hearing she was cold, I offered her my jacket. That opened a conversation with her.

Divorced with two tween sons, she led a busy life. She could be my friend.

All kinds of people, waiting in line to vote. All with joys and sorrows. Some quirky, some kind, some reserved.

It’s after the election, so this morning, I wondered what if I’d stood in line with Governor Romney, and President Obama without knowing who they were. Which one would I like? Which would be kind? Which one would I invite over for dinner to meet my family and puppy, Sam.

Maybe both.

In line, we’re neither red or blue, black or white. We’re people. A nation of people. A nation heading for disaster no matter who is in charge.

I’m reciting Romans. The last part of chapter 1 lists sins that are in the news. Perversion and murder. There is also a long list which contains envy, malice, pride. Sins I’m guilty of every day.

Chapter 2 is interesting. After the long list of sins, It opens with, “Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things. We know that the judgment of God rightly falls on those who practice such things. Do you suppose, O man–you who judge those who practice such things and yet do them yourself–that you will escape the judgment of God?”

Let me take you to another scene. Two weeks ago, Tom and I ate in a good Mexican restaurant in Dobson, NC. A large family took up almost an entire room. They glazed over the topic of politics. We overheard them say, “I vote for Jesus as King!”

Tom smiled and whispered to me, “He already is.”

He is. Judgment will come. Not just on the sins in the news, but on envy and malice and strife and gossip. Sins that need a payment, too.

The payment for me is made. I trusted Christ’s death on the cross as the only payment for my sins.

Mitt Romney will face judgment. So will President Obama. Politics won’t matter then. Only the death of Christ will pay for their sins.

For now, I’m making a resolution of my own.

Be it resolved that:

I will pray for the President of the United States of America each day. My prayer? That he will bow before the King of the universe and govern accordingly.

Maybe he’ll even come over for dinner. Here’s your invitation, President Obama. I serve a mean spaghetti.

Here’s a song about the King.

 

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