The Person in the Pew Next to You

 Pew Research Center just released a poll of what percentage members of each denomination belong to which political party. The closest to the “middle” are the American Baptists, who are 41% Republican, 42% Democrat, and 16% Independent. 

What are our United Methodist numbers?

(Quick, before you keep reading, what do you think our numbers are? Okay, now you can keep reading.) 

We are 54% Republican, 35% Democrat, and 11% Independent.

Do you find those numbers surprising? My hunch is that you’re not surprised if you’re a Republican, because you assume everyone is like you. My hunch is also that you’re surprised if you’re a Democrat, because you assume that everyone is like you. Independents probably aren’t surprised at much of anything related to politics.

It is natural to assume that people that we like would vote like us. After all, if you’re cool enough to be friends, then you’re cool enough to vote the same way, right?

Not so much, particularly in church. In fact, if you’re sitting in a United Methodist church, then you’re likely to be sitting next to someone who fills in a different oval on Election Day, statistically speaking. Just because we pray together doesn’t mean we vote together.

Keep this info in mind in the coming months. Just today, I received a very partisan mass email from a church member, and I took the time to reply, asking not to get future political emails. I’ve made that request to others before, and I’m sure I will do it again.  Just because we pray together doesn’t mean we vote together. (Or maybe we do. Just don't send me mass emails about it.)

Instead, I focus on the reverse: Just because we don’t vote together doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pray together. In fact, in this era, we need to pray together more than ever. Whatever flavor church you choose, whatever candidate you support, let’s pray together. Beyond any candidates or any political parties, we find our unity and our hope when we pray. Together.

Secular Politics

For the first time ever, I have thrown my hat in the ring for an elected position. No, I’m not talking about the presidential campaign. I’m running for the Board of the Prairie Township Fire Protection District.

Really.

Suddenly, and smack dab in the middle of Lent, I find myself forming an election committee, creating a website, getting a bank account, and all of the other minutiae of a political campaign. There is fundraising that needs to be done, in addition to door-to-door visits. Not only that, but there will be yard signs with my name on it that will pop up before the election.

This is way beyond my comfort zone. Trust me. There is not an introvert in the world that looks forward to seeing their name stuck in people’s yards and on the local highway.

Why am I doing this crazy thing? (Did I mention that it is during Lent, which is Busy Season in my world?)

Even though it may sound like it’s a fairly minor position, it comes with some pretty important issues attached. I’ve seen two houses burn on my block, and I know now the importance of quality fire protection. Before then, I had only seen a house fire on the evening news. It is so much more real when you smell the smoke, hear the crackle of flames, and know the family who is watching their house burn. 

If the mission of any fire department is to preserve and protect life and property, then I want to do anything I can to help my fire department live out that mission in the best way possible for everyone within their boundaries. Running for this board seems like an important thing that I can do for my neighbors and my community.

It’s a contested election with some strong feelings on both sides. Therefore, I’ll be campaigning. Thankfully, I won’t have to travel to Iowa or New Hampshire, but I will be doing as much I can to communicate with the good voters of the Prairie Township Fire Department.

I was talking with my 84-year old mother last week about this campaign. She said, “Sally, you ought to be able to tie in being a preacher with running for fire board!” “Umm, Mom, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” “Just a minute, let me think, let me think . . .” And what did my 84-year-old mother come up with? “Vote for Sally. . . or you’ll burn!”

Ack! No. I love my mother dearly and usually try to do what she tells me to, but no. She makes a much better mother than she does slogan-writer.

The election will be on April 5. Until then, I’ll be both busy pastor and busy candidate. I’m not sure exactly how, but I will trust that everything that needs to get done will get done in both worlds.

In the meantime, I’m still searching for that perfect slogan.