Hilton Head Island, SC – November 4, 2012
The Chapel Without Walls
Leviticus 19:11-18; Romans 13:1-9
A Sermon by John M. Miller
Text – Therefore one must be subject, not only to avoid God’s wrath but for the sake of conscience. – Romans 13:5 (RSV)
First, an admission. The Bible says nothing about voting, not a single word. There had never been voting in the whole history of Israel up until the time of the Roman Empire, and the Romans certainly made no provision for its citizens to vote. For that matter, almost no one living in Judea at the time of Jesus was a Roman citizen, so even if the Romans had created a democracy where citizens were permitted to vote (which they didn’t), very few Jews were citizens anyway.
Up through the period in which the Old and New Testaments were written, democracy had been attempted only once. That was in one city-state of Greece, Athens. Nowhere else in the entire world had democracy even been contemplated. Ancient states were virtually all monarchies of one sort or another. Democracy (literally “rule of the people” from the Greek language) made no sense to anyone except the people of Athens. And it existed only in Athens and only in the 6th century BCE. The point is, the Bible never spoke about whether we are obligated to vote, because there had never been democratic elections during any period of biblical history from Abraham to the writer of the Book of Revelation.
Shortly before the crucifixion, an expert in the religious law asked Jesus, “Teacher, what is the great commandment in the law?” (Mt. 22:34 ff) Jesus answered that the great commandment is to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. The second commandment, said Jesus, quoting from our reading from Leviticus, is to love our neighbors as ourselves. In this context, “neighbors” means “all people.” Ultimately, said Jesus, upon these two commandments the entire religious law is based.
So here is a question for people who live in a democracy: Is it a demonstration of love for our neighbors if we go to the voting booth on election day? All of us choose to live in a democracy. Nobody has forced us to live in the United States of America. It is a deliberate choice on our part to do so. We could move to Russia or China, if they would have us, which they probably wouldn’t, or to Syria or Zimbabwe or Iran, if we brought enough money with us, and they would probably be glad for us to reside in their autocracies. But we live in a democracy, and therefore as both Christians and Christian citizens, we must ask ourselves, “Are we obligated to vote?”
Over the course of the past several decades, roughly only half of those Americans who are eligible to vote do vote. We have one of the lowest voting records of all the democracies in the world. When you consider the obscene amounts of money which have been spent on votes in this election, it is amazing anyone doesn’t vote. On the other hand, all that money being spent on television ads, political mailings, and face-to-face meetings of candidates with the people, may permanently put off some people from ever again casting a ballot. The bags of blown bucks do tend to diminish one’s enthusiasm for the political process. Each of the presidential candidates has raised a billion dollars for his own campaign, and major donors to Super-Pacs have thrown in another billion. That’s three billion dollars just for the presidency, plus many other hundreds of millions on elections to Congress.
Nevertheless, if we live in a democracy, does God expect us to vote? I do not know for certain, nor can I know, but I strongly believe God does expect each of us to vote.
But why? What difference does it make? In terms of the cockamamie existence of the cockamamie American electoral college, half the votes of American voters don’t matter at all. Never will that be more apparent than in the Election of 2012, which is way too close to call on November 4, and will still be too close to call until late on Tuesday evening, November 6, if even then. Truly, almost 50% of the votes cast will have no bearing on the presidential outcome, because only the winners of the plurality or majority of votes in each of the fifty states will receive the votes of those states in the electoral college vote. So for half of all Americans our ballots may as well be burned before we even cast them.
But how can we love our neighbors as ourselves if we don’t vote for the candidates we think are the best for all of us, ourselves as well as our neighbors? In Syria no one really gets to cast a meaningful vote for Bashar Assad, and the same is true of Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe or the Ayatollah Khamenei in Iran, or his puppet, President Ahmadinejad.
Votes matter, because politicians and their policies matter. If we potentially have the ability to influence the course of government, and thus help institute what we think is best for the country, and thus for our neighbor, why wouldn’t we vote? And can anyone provide any valid reason why we shouldn’t vote?
The first Christians were in a very precarious political position. Most of them were Jews, and the Romans were not thrilled with the Jews. Jews wanted their independence, which the Romans were not about to give them, and they also insisted there was only one God. The Romans didn’t see it that way. Therefore the Romans were quite skeptical about this new group of Jewish people who called themselves Christians. There were too few of them to be the problem the other Jews were, but they were a potential nuisance anyway.
The apostle Paul knew it would be foolhardy for the Christians to express any opposition to the Roman authorities. Therefore he gave them what he considered sound advice. The essence of it was this: Never bug the Romans. Be nice to the Romans. Steer clear of the Romans.
What Paul said in Romans 13 is best remembered in the King James Version, not the Revised Standard Version. “The powers that be are ordained of God.” In other words, the Roman emperor and his entire political system are divinely intended to exist, Paul insisted.
Really? Nero, Caligula, Domitian: God intended that there be emperors of that ilk? Surely not! But Paul thought it politic to write what he wrote, because the Romans might be less inclined to think the Christians represented a threat. Paul didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. Government is necessary, he declared, and we ought to support it, whatever kind it is.
It is far easier to take exception to government policies in a democracy than in a monarchy or dictatorship. Political opposition comes at a great price in certain states and in certain periods of time, but in a democracy, particularly one like the United States of America, citizens are free to express their opposition to any government policies. By their votes, they can vote out any politicians whose policies they dislike.
Paul was not addressing citizens in a democracy, however. He was addressing subjects in an empire, and second or third class subjects at that. “Would you have no fear of him who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain; he is the servant of God to execute his wrath on the evildoer” (Romans 13:3-4) This is a profoundly conservative view of how God intends society to work. We may infer from it that even bad rulers are part of God’s plan, and we should obey them. Fortunately, most Christians since the first century have not been as docile or submissive to all governmental authorities as Paul suggested the Christians in Rome should be. But in his defense, he was urging the first Christians not to rebel against what they might think was unjust treatment from the Romans, because he correctly feared that such rebellion would result in Christian obliteration.
Because of the system in which we find ourselves, as opposed to that of the 1st-century Mediterranean world, voting is not only a privilege, it is also a civic responsibility. Even if we are not strongly drawn to any candidate for whom we might vote, it behooves us to decide on the one we think would do better, or at a minimum would do the least amount of harm.
As we saw in the presidential election of 2000, every vote indeed does count. That is true in some elections more than in others, obviously, but it is always generally true anyway.
I personally was involved in three elections. The first was when I ran for president of the student council of West High School in Madison, Wisconsin. As my mother would say, I had more nerve than a canal horse to run, because I wasn’t even a member of the student council. I suppose I fancied myself some kind of reformer, an outsider riding a white horse into the inside. But for the life of me I can’t remember what kind of a reformer I thought I might be. In any case, I lost the election to classmate Jim Olson, who won by six votes. If just three of his voters had voted for me, we would have been tied, and if four had swung my way, I would have won by two votes. Every vote counts, as they say.
The next election was for senior class president at West High, and that I won. I don’t recall if it was a contested election, though I presume it was. (My memory becomes a larger sieve with larger holes the older I get.) The next election was for an independent seat on the Student Senate at the University of Wisconsin. Those living on campus voted for their own candidates, and those of us who were “townies” were considered independents. I lost that election, also by six votes, and also to the same classmate, Jim Olson. Thus ended my political career, which never really began, courtesy of Jim Olson, twice, by six votes. The six votes I remember. Most of the rest I forget. However, Jim went on to become an outstanding attorney, and has always been very active behind the scenes in Wisconsin politics. Whenever I am back in Madison, I love to get together with him to hear what is going on in Badger State politics. He ended up where he should have been, and I trust I ended up where I should have been.
At the diamond jubilee celebration for the sixty-year reign of Queen Elizabeth II this past spring, Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, preached a sermon at a special service to mark the jubilee. He spoke about how we are all to work together for the good of all. He said, “Moralists [archbishops included] can thunder away as much as they like; but they’ll make no difference unless and until people see that there is something transforming and exhilarating about the prospect of a whole community rejoicing together – being glad of each other’s happiness and safety. This alone is what will save us from the trap of ludicrous financial greed, of environmental recklessness, of collective fear of strangers and collective contempt for the unsuccessful and marginal.” Rowan Williams was talking about communal rejoicing for the long and luminous reign of the Queen, but he also could have been talking about how democratic communities and nations rejoice together when they vote in their elections.
Our votes should reflect the level of our concern for “the unsuccessful and the marginal.” It should do that if for no other reason than often the unsuccessful and marginalized do not vote on their own behalf. They need advocates, and they need advocates from both parties. Otherwise they are consigned to continue in their straightened circumstances, because no one comes to the assistance of those who most need assistance. Voting represents “a whole community rejoicing together,” or at least expressing a common concern together.
A man named Francis Spufford wrote a book called Unapologetic: Why, Despite Everything, Christianity Can Still Make Surprising Emotional Sense. Spufford tells of having been an atheist for years, and then having a powerful conversion experience which led him into mystical Christianity. Writing a review of the book in The Times of London, John Carey says of the author, “For him that emotional conviction is primary; ideas and dogmas are secondary. He repeats the Apostles Creed in church every Sunday, and tries, he says, to believe it. But he believes because of his feelings, not the other way around.”
Voting is a way of putting our emotions and our beliefs into action. When we pull a lever or touch a screen by a certain name or political proposal, we are saying what we think would be if not the best than at least the better for everyone, including ourselves. Voting is a supremely communal act. For Christians, however we might vote, it is a means of attempting to transform what we believe into policy, and thus into reality. As it says on the bulletin cover in the quote from Henry Sidgwick, “Reason shows me that if my happiness is desirable and good, the equal happiness of any other person must be equally desirable.”
Are we obligated to vote? Legally we are not. But morally, ethically, and theologically, it seems to me we should feel obliged to go to the polls, however reluctantly we are drawn to any candidate or political idea. Voting is one of the most tangible ways in which we illustrate our solidarity with all our fellow citizens, regardless of how, or even whether, they might also choose to vote.
Elections represent social glue. Two days from now, go to your polling place and help to keep the glue properly operational. God, and your civics teacher, applaud you for it.