Therefore, submit to God. —James 4:7
Seventy years ago this past May, the Supreme Court ruled on Brown v. Board of Education. On the third anniversary of that famous school desegregation decision, May 17, 1957, the Prayer Pilgrimage for Freedom found Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in front of the Lincoln Memorial where he offered the keynote address titled, “Give Us the Ballot—We Will Transform the South.”
That passionate cry to “give us the ballot” spoke to me this week. I’d been asking questions that countless thousands ask during election seasons: “Why should I vote?,” and, “How should I vote?” Especially in Texas, which ranks among the lowest nationwide in voter turnout, and where, according to a “cost-of-voting index” compiled by political scientists at Northern Illinois University, Jacksonville University, and Wuhan University in China, it is harder to vote than in 49 other states, Dr. King’s demand for voting rights rings prophetic.
The “why” is simple. If we don’t vote, the potential for transformation falls flat. If the crux of our faith is repentance—which, translated from the original Greek ‘metanoia’ in Mark’s gospel means to completely change our way of being—then withholding my vote is suppressing the possibility for things to transform from the status quo to the kin-dom of God. Give us the ballot, and we will repent from stagnation and put our transformative faith into action.
So, what about the “how”? How do I act upon my faith convictions in the voting booth?
In that keynote address, Dr. King said, “So long as I do not firmly and irrevocably possess the right to vote I do not possess myself. I cannot make up my mind—it is made up for me. I cannot live as a democratic citizen, observing the laws I have helped to enact—I can only submit to the edict of others.” If faith empowers me with freedom from the edict of others, if faith liberates me from living a life prescribed for me by the powers and principalities of this world and into the possibilities and promises of God, then I do not have to, nor should I, submit to anything but love. That faithful submission informs the how.
As a beloved citizen of the kin-dom of God, where each of us is called to care for one another as kin, looking out especially for the most vulnerable among us, how I vote is determined by my submission to God; to my saying “yes” to God and, consequently, “no” to the edict of all else. And God is love. Therefore, I vote with love. That is the how.
I will vote with love, stepping into the voting both as a change agent in witness to Jesus’ exemplary charge to prioritize and defend children, to recognize and respect women, and to treat the ones our society deems “the least of these” as members of Christ’s family.
I will vote with love, making each democratic selection in witness to the God who loves justice, who liberates those living under oppressive systems, and who advises those who love God to look out especially for the orphan, the widow, and the alien—those most susceptible to harm in any community.
I will vote with love, casting my ballot in the interest of hospitality, where all of God’s children receive one another with mutual respect and reverence, anticipating life-changing blessings to come out of that kind reception of our neighbors, no matter who we are or where we come from.
I will vote, because every child of God—including me—is one another’s keeper; and the vote I cast will be determined by the best interests of the neighborhood, seeking the moral, emotional, practical, spiritual uplift of the entire community toward a truer reflection of the kin-dom of the Creator of us all. I will vote with love. Why and how should I vote?