Reflections on a Changing World

What have I learned from the events of these past days? How is one to respond to disappointment. I admit that I suffered the first waves of despair over the choices made by our nation last night. I admit that I entertained momentary thoughts of a doomed nation and a declining national ethic. I admit that I caught myself believing the worst of the path we've chosen for ourselves.

But in less than a day I have come to a number of revelations, and I cannot help but find deep, lasting solace in the present state of things.

I've come to realize, perhaps most importantly, that when your world seems to turn against all that you truly believe, you can respond in either despair or joy, both of which arise naturally, depending on the condition of one's heart. Despair wells up far too quickly within the heart of the one who believes that man must save himself. The one who believes that our fate rests in politicians or the laws of man is a man who feels the most at home in the depths of despair.

I felt the first inklings of despair last night, but I am happy to say that I quickly found a greater and more lasting home in joy. I eagerly attest that it was no other but the hand of God that led me to write last week on the prevailing power of the Kingdom of God over the kingdoms of men, with absolutely no forethought of how those thoughts might prove relevant so very soon within my own heart.

I am eternally grateful to have been reminded by the events of this week that no earthly King or President, no matter how righteous or intelligent, will ever bring us any closer to the Kingdom of God, and no earthly King or President, no matter how foolish or malicious or corrupt, will ever stem the progress of the hope that comes from the true Gospel of the Kingdom. An election may have positive or negative consequences, but an election is not the Good News.

And in a way, I can even find reason to be grateful for my present disappointments, for if my chosen candidates had emerged victorious, if the initiatives of my state had passed or failed as I desired, I would certainly find myself as guilty as those who are pleased with last night's results—I would find myself acting against all that I have come to believe, holding out hope that a man or man-made measure could somehow turn the tide of history and bring real peace to the world and real, lasting prosperity to my nation or my world. Those who believe that the present rulers will bring about peace have truly never understood the nature of men; those who believe that somehow we might have turned the tide of man if the other side had won are similarly deluded. I might have hoped for a different outcome for the temporary relief it might have signaled; I might have enjoyed the freedoms it would have offered, but I ought to know better than to fall into despair. I ought to be far quicker to remember to be thankful for a Gospel that does not depend upon the power of man to fix his own problems.

How can I be so quick to fall into despair when I see the petty bickering of politicians; the filth of mud being slung back and forth; the perpetration of terrible, slanderous lies? How can I fall into despair when I know that it is all just a reminder of the truth of the Gospel? Man cannot save himself, and the world itself offers continual, unceasing evidence as to the truth of that statement. How can anyone open their eyes, looking either to the past or to the present, and find hope in man’s attempts to save himself? What sort of madness is that?

True, a bit of comfort and a bit of hope for our nation’s health may have been sacrificed yesterday, but what worth are the idols of comfort and nationalism when compared to the indescribable glory of a true Kingdom, built and ruled by a true and worthy King?