Whom, or what, should I fear?

By MARIA SERMERSHEIM

MEDITATIONE IGNIS

Whom, or what, should I fear? Not politics.

The other week, I left one of my classes feeling dissatisfied. The theme of the course is theology in practice, considering that St. Maximus the Confessor says, “Theology without practice is the theology of demons;” and St. James, of course, writes that “Faith without works is dead” (Jas 2:26). This particular day in class, our discussion was relevant to recent political events – namely, the Black Lives Matter protests, immigration issues, and the election. Instead of naming the issues and speaking of them in concrete detail, many students evaded the subject by making vague statements and explicitly saying they wanted to stay out of politics.

But I was frustrated because I find the avoidance of politics to be a disposition devoid of Christian hope. Recently, it seems to me that politics is the sacrosanct taboo. People are avoiding the topic because regardless of their stance, they don’t want to enter into that controversial arena.

An article recently reported that Americans identify themselves more along partisan lines than religious lines; that parents are more distraught when their children marry someone of different political beliefs than religious ones. The political party is the “super-identity.” But our place as Christians should be decisively outside of this super-identity, and we of all people should be unafraid to discuss what can and should be done in the world. We of all people should be able to speak to specific circumstances and particular problems with a love for our neighbor and the priority of loyalty to Christ.

We probably do adhere too much to our political identities, which is exactly why that class was the perfect opportunity for us to pry ourselves away and instead cling to the Lord as the true foundation of our identities. We should be able to love our interlocutors, love the subjects of whatever policies are at stake, and admit objective rights and wrongs without letting fear of offense dictate the bounds of our discussions. Christian living is not limited to the things that we are comfortable talking about.

Of course, Catholics don't wholesale promote any political platform, which is why we should talk about them and give concrete critiques. Of course, the Church is neutral on some things, and the way the balance is struck is not always clear, which is why those areas should be identified as such.

I think that by shying away from a specific analysis of politics in light of Church teaching, we forfeit our confidence that Christ enlightens all things and that this world is passing away. Why should I be afraid to “get into politics” when “I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom 8:38-9)?

By ceding this ground to politics as the untouchable subject – as the issue that we don't bring up because we just “know” it will cause anxiety and discord – we refuse to recognize politics as an area in which God can act. How are we supposed to concretely grow in holiness if we never assess our progress and honestly evaluate our errors?

What makes politics exempt from the arena of correction? Nothing. We need Christian critique, so let's foster a love of it.

Do I think there is a right choice to make in this election? Yes. Do I think that any political party is perfect? No. Do I make politics my god? No. So will I speak about these issues in detail with care for my neighbor and the truth? Yes.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear?” (Ps 27:1).

P.S. I expressed these concerns to my professor, and in the next class, we did have a good conversation about voting and political issues.