I'm going to be voting soon, and like many Americans, I've been giving some thought to the issues facing our country. Immigration, the economy, abortion, crime, healthcare, and the role of government are all subjects that generate strong opinions and sometimes considerable anger.
But I've been thinking about something deeper than the issues themselves.
What causes two people, both of whom consider themselves decent, compassionate, and morally responsible, to look at the same situation and reach entirely different conclusions?
I don't think the answer is as simple as Republican versus Democrat, conservative versus liberal, or even right versus wrong.
I think much of it comes down to how we understand ourselves, our purpose in life, and the source of our moral convictions.
Where Does Our Understanding of Right and Wrong Come From?
My Christian faith is central to how I understand the world. I believe moral truth comes from God. Right and wrong are not determined by what happens to be popular, socially acceptable, or personally advantageous.
That doesn't mean I always know what is right. Far from it. My understanding is imperfect, and I continue to learn.
But I believe there is a difference between discovering what is right and deciding for ourselves what right and wrong ought to mean.
Someone who doesn't believe in God can be honest, generous, compassionate, and deeply committed to doing what is right. I don't question that.
But I do see a difference in the foundation from which those convictions arise.
A person may develop a strong moral conscience through upbringing, relationships, empathy, reason, or a desire to contribute something good to society. Those are worthwhile things.
For me, however, the deepest understanding of compassion comes through knowing God. It is not simply a matter of learning to behave morally. It is a matter of growing in relationship with Him.
And that brings me to something I believe is often overlooked.
It's a Matter of the Heart
Two people can perform exactly the same act of kindness for entirely different reasons.
One might give generously because it makes him feel good about himself. Another might give because he feels obligated. Someone else might give because he genuinely cares about the person in need.
The outward action may look identical, but what takes place in the heart can be very different.
I believe God is concerned with more than our outward behavior. He is concerned with our motivations.
That doesn't give me the ability to judge someone else's heart. In fact, it should make me more careful about doing so.
It also requires me to examine my own.
Am I doing what I believe is right because I genuinely care about others? Am I acting out of fear, resentment, pride, or a desire to prove that I'm right?
These questions matter in ordinary life, and I believe they matter when considering political issues as well.
Mercy and Justice Are Both Necessary
One of the difficulties in discussing politics is that we often treat compassion and accountability as though they are opposites.
I don't believe they are.
When I encounter someone who has made serious mistakes, I want to remember that I, too, am dependent upon God's grace.
But mercy doesn't mean that wrongdoing has no consequences.
Someone who hurts a child may need to face substantial punishment. Someone who tells a lie out of embarrassment may need understanding and forgiveness far more than punishment.
The circumstances matter.
We can forgive someone who has abused us without allowing that person to continue abusing us. Forgiveness doesn't require surrendering our safety or abandoning justice.
And the same principle applies to society.
Personal Compassion and the Responsibility of Government
Immigration is a good example of how two legitimate responsibilities can create difficult moral questions.
As an individual, I may encounter someone who entered this country illegally and still feel compassion for that person. I may recognize a family trying to build a better life, a parent wanting to provide for their children, or someone fleeing terrible circumstances.
If I can graciously help, and doing so is within my ability and conscience, then that is a personal moral decision.
But government has responsibilities that are different from mine.
A nation must maintain laws, protect its citizens, administer its borders, and preserve the civil order necessary for society to function.
Recognizing those responsibilities doesn't automatically mean someone lacks compassion.
And showing compassion toward an immigrant doesn't necessarily mean someone opposes the rule of law.
The difficult questions involve how we balance these responsibilities, how laws are enforced, and how we treat people in the process.
I don't believe we resolve those questions simply by accusing one another of being either heartless or lawless.
The Same Tensions Exist in Other Issues
Consider poverty and public assistance.
We have a responsibility to care about people who are suffering. But what is the most helpful response? Is it immediate financial assistance, greater opportunity, personal encouragement, changes in public policy, or some combination?
The answer may depend on the circumstances.
Consider crime.
We want to protect innocent people and hold offenders accountable. Yet we should also recognize the possibility of repentance, rehabilitation, and genuine change.
Consider healthcare.
We can recognize the importance of caring for the sick while disagreeing about how that care should be organized, financed, and delivered.
Consider abortion.
Here the moral disagreements can be particularly profound, involving the sanctity of developing human life, the rights and responsibilities of a pregnant woman, and difficult medical and personal circumstances. People disagree not only about solutions, but about the fundamental moral questions involved.
And consider the economy.
Financial policies affect real people. Families struggle with living expenses, businesses need to remain viable, and government must consider both present needs and long-term consequences.
In each of these matters, good intentions alone do not establish that a particular policy will produce good results.
We must also consider facts, consequences, and the responsibilities of those entrusted with governing.
What About Those Who Don't Believe in God?
This is where I think we need to be particularly careful.
I believe our ultimate purpose in life is to know and love the Lord.
Someone who doesn't share that belief may understand life's purpose quite differently. They may find meaning in relationships, service, personal growth, or improving the world for future generations.
Those differences are significant. They can influence how we understand freedom, responsibility, suffering, and moral obligation.
But I don't believe we can accurately determine someone's compassion, integrity, or character simply by learning whether they believe in God.
Nor can we assume that someone who professes Christianity is necessarily acting according to God's will.
A nonbeliever may demonstrate extraordinary mercy. A Christian may struggle with judgment, resentment, or pride.
I believe knowing God offers something beyond a moral philosophy: an ongoing relationship in which we are continually challenged, corrected, and drawn closer to Him.
That relationship doesn't make us infallible.
It should make us more willing to recognize when we're wrong.
Growing Through Our Differences
I believe God uses the experiences of our lives to draw us closer to Him.
Joy, sorrow, disappointment, conflict, uncertainty, and even our mistakes can become opportunities for spiritual growth.
We don't always understand what God is doing, and we certainly don't always respond as we should.
But Christian maturity isn't a matter of reaching a point where every question has an easy answer.
It's a continuing relationship with God, learning to trust Him and growing in our understanding of His character.
That includes how we respond to people who disagree with us.
Someone else may sincerely believe something that I consider mistaken. And I may be mistaken about something I feel equally certain is right.
We each have a responsibility to pursue truth with sincerity, but sincerity doesn't guarantee that our conclusions are correct.
Humility leaves room for correction.
And compassion leaves room for the humanity of the person with whom we disagree.
So, How Will I Approach Voting?
I don't intend to tell anyone which candidate deserves their vote or which political party best represents Christian values.
That is something each person must consider according to their own conscience.
What I do believe is that voting involves more than choosing between competing promises or identifying the candidate whose opinions most closely resemble our own.
It involves understanding the responsibilities of government, considering the consequences of public policy, examining the character and conduct of those seeking office, and recognizing that different moral obligations sometimes pull us in different directions.
I can care deeply about people in need while recognizing that government cannot solve every personal hardship.
I can believe in mercy while supporting appropriate punishment for wrongdoing.
I can value personal freedom while recognizing that freedom carries responsibility.
And I can hold firmly to my faith without presuming that everyone who disagrees with me is acting out of selfishness, ignorance, or bad intentions.
None of these considerations removes the difficulty of deciding how to vote.
Perhaps they make the responsibility even more serious.
What Matters Beyond the Election
When I enter the voting booth, I will bring my convictions with me, just as everyone else will bring theirs.
I will also bring my imperfections, my limited understanding, and the experiences that have shaped how I see the world.
My faith doesn't give me perfect political judgment. It gives me a foundation from which to seek wisdom, examine my conscience, and try to do what is right.
And when I get something wrong, as I inevitably will, I believe those experiences can become opportunities to learn and grow closer to God.
The election will come and go. Some people will be pleased with the results, and others will be disappointed.
But our responsibility to one another will remain.
We will still encounter people who are suffering, people who have made mistakes, people with whom we disagree, and people who need kindness and understanding.
My hope is that whatever convictions we bring into the voting booth, we don't leave our compassion, humility, or respect for others outside of it.
Because long after the votes have been counted, we will still have to decide how we treat one another.