Advent and Christmas

Working through the letter of 2 Peter over the last few weeks, one of the things I've noticed is that forward momentum in the Christian life, driven and energised by hope for the second coming of the Lord, is a much bigger thing in the New Testament than it is in much of the contemporary Christianity with which I am familiar.  For 2 Peter, it seems to me, you're either growing in Christian character or you're falling back into the orbit of the corrupt world; you're either straining towards the promise of a new heavens and new earth where righteousness dwells or you're scoffing at God.

Particularly striking at this time of year, as Advent gives way to Christmas: the way in which you look forward reveals something about the way you look back.

If you're not growing in Christian character (looking forward), you've forgotten that you were once washed from sin (looking back).

If you're scoffing at the idea of Christ's return and the final judgement (looking forward), you've forgotten the Majesty that has already been revealed in Christ (looking back).

It strikes me that if we're not looking forward to Christ's second coming, that is a sign that we've critically misunderstood Christmas.  If we think, with the classic liberal and with many a nativity play, of Christmas as simply a particular example of the everyday miracle of life (i.e., as a myth), we will expect that existence will simply roll on as it ever has done: a series of miracles, the world infused with the miraculous.  No second coming here.  If, on the other hand, we follow some apologists and more conservative theologians and make Christmas all about history - a one-off, uniquely glorious event - we will not necessarily be driven to expect any further events - or if we do, we must confess them to be logically somewhat disconnected from the first.  Maybe a second coming, but what has that to do with Christmas?

But if we see in Christmas the breaking in of the end, the ultimate, into our history - interrupting its flow, bringing into history that which history could never throw up of itself: redemption, salvation, new creation - if we see that in the story of the manger, then we must look for the full and final revelation of that salvation.  Redemption which does not redeem, new creation which gets lost in the old: these are impossible things.  If in the baby in the manger we see - let us get to the absolute point - Almighty God, then we must expect the glory of God to fill the earth as the waters cover the sea.  We must, therefore, look forward to his return, his full unveiling, the judgement of all the earth.

Which is more or less what I was trying to say about this time last year!

Vote like a sinner

Up until a few days ago, I was considering spoiling my ballot tomorrow.  I know a number of other Christians who are thinking along the same lines.  I've changed my mind.  I'm going to vote.  Can I encourage you to do likewise?

Here's the thing: I think we've got to a point where voting for any of the main parties in this election involves you in sin.  I don't think that's hyperbole.  You cannot as a Christian vote for a party mired in antisemitism, or a party pledged to decriminalise abortion.  You cannot as a Christian vote for a party which has shown little regard for the truth when campaigning and little regard for the vulnerable when in government.  You cannot as a Christian vote for a party which wants to throw the basic of God-given human nature out the window and legally enshrine a radical gender ideology.

You cannot.  Not as a Christian.

And so the only way to preserve your conscience intact, the only way to be righteous, is not to vote.  Right?

I think the problem with this perspective - and it was mine until a few days ago - is that it assumes that there is a group of the righteous, sitting somehow detached from the society around us, not as yet implicated in its wickedness.  It is not so.  Vote or don't vote.  You are nonetheless part of the society which has thrown up these options.  Where do you think this evil choice came from?  From the evil hearts of other people?  Not at all so.  Not at all.  No, we too, like the rest, are guilty, culpable.

Not us Christians?  Surely not us?  But has it all happened without us?  Have we spoken and lived clear alternatives?  Have we stood up for the unborn as we should have done?  Have we clearly defended our Jewish neighbours?  Have we shown by our lives and our speech just what human being means and is meant to be in God's creation?  Have we taken action for the vulnerable?

We too, like the rest.

Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

Not to vote is to try to opt out.  But you and I are in it up to our necks.  You can't just opt out of the swamp in which you have lived your whole life, the swamp you have helped to build, through your negligence, your weakness, your own deliberate fault.  You belong with these people, not standing over them in some superior place of righteousness.

So get out and vote.  You can't vote for any of these as a Christian.  Well then, vote as a sinner.  Pick your red lines - the things you won't cross - and take the appropriate action.  I won't vote for a liberalised abortion regime, I won't vote for antisemitism, and I won't vote for gender confusion.  So I'll vote for the other guys.  And I'm not saying you should do that.  I'm saying you should make a decision and get involved.  I'm not saying that as a Christian you really ought to vote.  I'm saying that as a sinner you really ought to vote.

Put a cross in a box, and as you put it there cry out to heaven: I am a man (or woman) of unclean politics, and I live amongst a people of unclean politics!  Woe, woe is me!

Be justified, not by your vote, but by your Saviour.  Be justified from your sinful vote.  Vote and trust, vote and believe.

Vote and confess.

Keep on being kind

A friend encouraged me yesterday to re-post something from just before the General Election in 2015.  Back then, I just wanted to encourage people to be kind.  Think the best of people.  Don't assume that others have terrible motives.  Speak well of one another.  That was all I was after.

Honestly, I couldn't simply re-post it.  Go back and read it, and see how far things have deteriorated over the last four years.  Look at the picture of Dave, and Ed, and Nick; three men with very different politics but obvious mutual respect.  It was a more elegant blogpost, for a more civilised age.

Nowadays I really couldn't encourage you to assume the best of everyone in politics.  It would be naive, even negligent, to do so.  There is, I am convinced, real evil at work in our politics.  When parties are going into a general election pledged to decriminalise murder in the womb; when a major party in British politics has been named the number one existential threat to Jews around the world; when politicians are pledged to enshrine corrupt gender politics into our laws; when at least one political party is led by someone with a proven track record of lies and deceit...  No, I can't tell you to assume the best.  There is evil at work here.

But here's a thing I can say on apostolic authority: if evil is not to overcome us all, and is instead itself to be overcome, it is to be overcome by doing good.

So I think we can - must - keep on being kind.  That in no way means failing to call out evil where we see it.  But it does mean recognising that there is no righteous choice here, and if others are making different choices from us - choices we can't understand or see the moral justification for - we can be generous and humble in the way we think, and gentle in the way we speak.  We might want to challenge people to change their minds; but we do it with kindness.

We Christians need to look to the model of Jesus, and model a robust kindness, a kindness which doesn't brush over evil, but looks it squarely in the eye and is nonetheless powerfully gentle, confidently humble.

However you vote, or whether perhaps you don't feel you can morally justify voting at all, keep on being kind.