EDITOR'S NOTE: Please note this week's blog posted January 2, 2008 was written on December 18, 2007. The blog was written for publication in the church's newsletter "threads" and because of the holidays the printer requested that copy to be published on January 2nd be delivered on December 18th. Jim's comments are in no way intended as a reflection on current events and headlines that have developed in recent days.
I’ve always loved politics. I don’t know why. So much of the political arena is distasteful—it can be a very messy business, in which ends can be seen to justify means, in which lofty goals can be sacrificed for short-term gain, in which the common good can be trumped by the mad pursuit of position and power.
Perhaps, that’s why the public per se views politicians warily. We tend to be suspicious, guarded at best. I’ve been shocked by how some members of our church family speak of them cynically, even with contempt. Once, while standing in the church foyer, a parishioner told me she believed the first President Bush (“Number 41”) was “the lap-dog of Satan.” There’s more: she was referring to Ronald Reagan as she spoke of “Satan.” Ouch.
The Democrats don’t get off easy, either. I can’t even repeat what I’ve heard some church folk say about Bill Clinton, not to mention Hillary. Local politicians can reap the whirlwind, too. It’s a tough crowd, out there.
Twenty-five years ago, I was a member of the Washington State Legislature, representing the 74,000 people of northwest Seattle in the statehouse at Olympia. John Spellman was Governor at the time; old enough to be my father, he was used to the rough and tumble inherent in any political career. But, as I found myself occasionally the Governor’s guest (for example, enjoying cheese and crackers in the Governor’s Mansion following exhausting, nearly-all-night sessions), I saw something else: John Spellman was a husband, father of six kids, and committed Catholic, who delighted in reading Luke 2 every Christmas, not for political gain but because that’s who he was. I’ll never forget him telling me, “Government service is the highest calling in life, save one: the Christian ministry.” He believed it; I did, too.
I’ve met all kinds of people with political portfolios. Some were bad apples—but most have been principled men and women reaching for the right. In my years as a pastor in Anderson, I have become well acquainted with many politicians, from both sides of the aisle. None has a monopoly on virtue; no one is without flaw. All are real people, with real families, real questions, and real feelings.
Sadly, we sometimes imagine that every politician has an agenda when he or she walks through the church door—that the church is “being used.” I have, regretfully, heard that said about every political figure that has ever, at one time or another, called this church home, including: Dennis Carroll, Rodney Cummings, Sam Hanna, Mark Lawler, David McIntosh, Tom Newman, Mike Welch, and, yes, the new Anderson Mayor, Kris Ockomon. I have seen them differently; each has been, at important moments, moved by God at work here.
Just before Thanksgiving, Kris Ockomon called and offered my wife a job in the Mayor’s Office. It was, on several levels, an answer to our prayers. We never imagined Maureen working at City Hall, but we were praying for employment. The whole boys-in college deal has been a huge financial challenge for us.
But, because I’m a pastor, nothing is just simple. What would the implications be for the church? What will people say? Will they think we’re taking a political stand, one way or another? I have prayed in public with parishioners, both Democrats and Republicans (Kris asked that I, as his pastor, for instance, would offer a prayer at his swearing in ceremony on New Year’s Day), but I have tried to walk carefully, avoiding casting a political pale over the church. Would this job be seen otherwise?
We prayed. We consulted with David Sebastian, the Chair of our Board of Elders (and Dean of the Anderson University School of Theology); he believed it was a most appropriate move; no problem. We spoke with members of our Madison Park Small Group (including former County Prosecutor Rodney Cummings, no stranger to the hardscrabble of politics in this town—he said, “Maureen, I think you should do it”). In the end, we believed the Lord opened the door and Maureen walked through it. Her new post starts today (January 2).
Kris has been very gracious and straightforward; he has high hopes for his new administration. We respect him; we have no quarrel with outgoing Mayor Kevin Smith, either. But like both Kevin and Kris, we long for Anderson to succeed. If Maureen can help advance our community by managing the front desk in the Mayor’s Office, well, she’s glad to do what she can.
Politicians are people, too. So are pastors. Just like you. Thanks for understanding.
And, oh yeah, if you, along the way, have a problem with the new Mayor or have a question about the city’s course, don’t call me. Call him. I’m sure he’d be glad to speak with you. If you have a question about the Bible, give me a call. That’s my line.
Happy New Year, Madison Park. We love you. I Timothy 2:1-3 and Matthew 7:12
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
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