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.

Flags and Faith and Muslims

My dad was right, as he usually was, the day that he and I were talking about whether or not the American flag should be displayed in a church sanctuary. “Dad,” I said, “the sanctuary is the place where we worship Jesus, not a country. People from all nations come together in church in the name of Jesus. The cross is the symbol for the Christian church, not the American flag.” He replied, “Sal, it is because of the flag that you have the freedom to worship in your sanctuary in the first place.” I’m not sure that I ever admitted to him that he won that discussion, but he did. His logic made perfect sense and reminded me of what a privilege it is to be free to worship however I want. I think of that conversation often when my gaze falls on the American flag that sits beside the Christian flag in our sanctuary.

I try not to dignify much of the craziness of politics with a response, but today I need to let my father’s words speak.  “It is because of the flag that we have freedom to worship.” This nation was not founded so that only people who fit a narrow definition of Christianity could worship in freedom. Some of our most important stories of the origin of our country relate to people who had to flee nations who did not think they were Christian enough.  Members of several religious sects whose practice of religion had been outlawed came here so that they could worship as they felt called. 

To declare that people should be prohibited from entering this country if they are Muslim is abhorrent to our founding principles. It should also be abhorrent to us as people of faith. Freedom of religion isn’t really freedom if it only applies to me and not to other people’s religions. We were not founded on the basis of “freedom of my religion.” If we think that the only way we can live as followers of Christ is to fear people of other faiths, then we have missed something  in our Scripture reading. We are called to welcome the stranger and to treat the world- even the people that we might call enemies- with tender love. 

There will always be rhetoric on all sides during a political season, and it’s not worth it to chase after every offending comment. With these comments about a faith issue, though, I can't not speak up. I must say out loud that I am thankful to live in a nation that offers freedom of religion to me and everyone else.  We can never let that freedom be diminished for anyone, nor should we condone rhetoric that celebrates that possibility. 

You see, my dad was right all along. He pretty much always was. He was always one of the smartest men around, and I am convinced that's still true.

Snakenado

One of the cheesy delights of this summer’s vacation was the chance to watch “Sharknado 3.” In case you haven’t had a chance to watch any of the three Sharknado movies, the premise is simple: A bunch of deadly sharks gets sucked up into a tornado. The resulting sharknado proceeds to drop hungry sharks out of the sky, where they eat people in spectacular ways. Apparently, the only effective way to kill a shark dropping from the sky is with a chainsaw, especially if you happen to have already been eaten by the shark and need an exit strategy. (Does movie making get any better than this?) This year’s installment was particularly good, with plenty of chainsaws and cameos of celebrities getting eaten, including Jerry Springer and the entire cast of the Today Show.

Good, clean fictional fun, right? Well, it’s all fun and games until the fiction becomes reality.

One morning last week, I was sitting on the beach when I noticed a really cool scene unfold in front of me. A seagull was flying by with a 2-foot snake in its claws. I thought that was a pretty astounding feat for a small seagull. “You go, gull,” I cheered it on as it flew near me. I looked around to see if anyone else was admiring this spectacle, but the family next to me wasn’t paying attention.

Suddenly, two other gulls decided they wanted the snake for themselves and gave chase. In the ensuing skirmish, the seagull dropped the snake.

A few feet in front of me.

A snake. Dropping from the sky. Right in front of me.

Where is a chainsaw when you need one?

Stunned, I sat there in fear, waiting to see what the snake was going to do. It turned out that it didn’t do much of anything since it was already dead. Whew!

Again, I looked to family beside me. They still had not noticed anything. The gulls came back and had a noisy argument about who got the snake. The original gull settled the argument by proceeding to swallow the snake whole, beginning with the head. I was pretty impressed, because I couldn’t see how 2 feet of snake would fit into the gullet of a seagull.

The family beside me still hadn’t noticed this really cool nature happening right in front of us, but I kept watching, and the gull kept trying to swallow the snake.

Finally, the gull realized the enormity of its task and flew off, with half of the snake inside and half of the snake dangling from its mouth. After flying a few feet, the gull gave up and regurgitated the entire snake, dropping it harmlessly to earth. 

The gull flew away, and the dead snake lay where it had fallen, which was inside the beach bag of the oblivious family beside me.

Snakes falling from the sky. You never know what might happen next in God’s creation, but you always want to pay attention so you don’t miss out. And so that you’re not surprised when you unpack your beach bag at the end of the day.