In a couple weeks I will be turning 27, but you should know that I am a 70 year old living in the body of a twenty-something. For instance, I am a huge fan of the radio show “A Prairie Home Companion.” It comes on every Saturday night at 6pm, and it’s done in the style of old-timey radio programs. There are musical guests, comical skits, fake commercials, and I think it’s hilarious. I also think the average listener is 62.

My favorite part of “A Prairie Home Companion” is the segment called “The News from Lake Wobegon.” In this segment, the host tells stories from his fictional hometown, Lake Wobegon. The stories are always entertaining and clever, so I often find myself laughing out loud at his tales. But perhaps the best part about these stories is how well the teller captures the reality of human nature. I love his stories because they illustrate the true human experience, and I often see myself reflected in the characters he describes.

Well today I was listening to an old segment of “The News from Lake Wobegon,” and I was struck by how applicable it was to the present political race. This particular show aired the month before the 2004 Presidential election, and what follows is an excerpt from it. Keep in mind, the tone is largely tongue in cheek…

It’s been getting cool as Halloween comes along, and people are in a cautious mood, not because of Halloween but because of the election. People have to be careful about who they talk to and about what. Some people feel very strongly that the future of Western civilization is at stake on Tuesday, and you never know to whom you may be one of the infidels, so you have to walk lightly.

Val Tollefson went up to talk to Pastor Inkqvist about the sermon for Sunday. He was a little concerned because it was Reformation Sunday, and some of the conservatives in the congregation were a little leary that the pastor might use the occasion to talk about “reform” or “over-throwing the regime” or something of the sort. Val said, “Why don’t you just talk about homeland security. That’s what’s on everyone’s mind.” Pastor said, “I thought I would talk about salvation by grace…if that’s ok with you. I mean, we’ll sing ‘A Mighty Fortress is Our God,’ and that should pretty much take care of our security, no?”

The reason I have high-lighted this excerpt today is that it serves as a healthy reminder to Christians, especially as the presidential race escalates. I don’t know about you, but I have never been so enthralled by the election developments. It’s almost like a soap opera: “Stay tuned for tomorrow when the Ohio and Texas primaries may determine the future candidates of the election!” or “Tune in next time when Hillary and Barack debate for the 20th time!”

Unfortunately, it’s easy to get sucked into the excitement, and we soon forget our primary identities. It’s not that voting is unimportant, or that we shouldn’t be invested in the well-being of our country, but there is a time at which we need to kick ourselves in the pants and remember, “This world is not my home. My allegiance lies elsewhere. And with that in mind, I need to chill out!”

Along those lines, there is a fascinating book called “The Politics of Jesus,” written by theologian John Howard Yoder. In it, he does not make the move that I anticipated him making; he does not delineate the ways in which Jesus would or would not have voted. Instead, he reminds Christians that Jesus came to create an entirely new polis, one that constitutes our primariy citizenship. First and foremost, we belong to the city of God, not the city of Man, and that should instill in us a peace that cannot be shaken by the uncertainty of the Presidential race.

Again, that is not to say that we should be apathetic to the future of our nation. There is a degree to which we are called to make the world a better place, and one of the ways we can work this betterment is through the government. BUT, our first mode of change should be through the polis of Christ, which is the Church.

Scripture does not instruct Christians to rely on the government to care for the poor or love the oppressed–Scripture instead commands the Body of Christ to do these things. That said, the degree to which we become aggressive or panicked when discussing the election will reveal the primary source of our trust–we are either counting on the government to enact change, or we are counting on the Holy Spirit to enact change through the Church. You see regardless of our President, the Church will still be the Church, which means God is still moving in the world, and hope endures. In fact, a bad President may even enable the Church to shine all the brighter.

So no matter how the election ends, God will still be God. What’s more, God will use the next President to glorify Himself, regardless of who he or she might be. In the mean time, our task is to continue being the Church, and living as resident aliens in a foreign land. We must shine our light in the darkness, at times using the government to change systemic oppression when the occasion warrants, but our peace and security rest in Christ alone. A mighty fortress is our God, indeed.

Last night I experienced a true first–I was at a party that got broken up by the police. And of all the people hosting it, it was a party put on by seminary students! Now before you lose all hope in the future ministers of America, let me explain what happened, because it’s not nearly as scandalous as it sounds.

Some of my friends hosted a birthday party at their house for another student, and a ton of my friends were there so it was kind of an elaborate affair. We all got super dressed up, and one of our friends is a DJ, so he provided us with music. Prior to the party, the hosts went outside to make sure the music wouldn’t disturb the neighbors, so while it was quite the birthday bash, it was also very tame–some people danced, but most people just sat around and talked.

Well as the night progressed, the party seemed to be winding down, but I suddenly noticed three policemen walk in the back door. Simultaneously, three other policemen walked in the front. They yanked the plug on the music, pointed flashlights in our eyes, and started giving us the third degree. They warned us that if anyone was drinking underage, or if drugs were present, that we’d all be done for.

We tried to assure them that they’d find neither activity transpiring there, but they didn’t believe us. They got in our faces, treated us like we were already guilty for whatever crimes they assumed we were committing, and didn’t let up. It was actually kind of scary.

As it became increasingly clear that we had done nothing wrong (even the decibel level of the music was not enough for them to write us up), the cops got more desperate. One of them picked up a piece of grass off the floor that someone tracked in with their shoes, and asked us what it was. “Grass, officer?”

Another cop confiscated my friend’s driver’s license, and when he discovered that my friend is required to drive with glasses due to poor vision, be began grilling him about where his glasses were. My friend was wearing contacts.

After awhile, the interrogating became somewhat ridiculous, and we were all getting very annoyed. We hadn’t done anything wrong, but were being treated like criminals.

Eventually the cops ran out of ideas so they left. As soon as they walked out the door, we all burst out laughing–of all the parties to be broken up by the cops, a party of seminary students? We didn’t know whether to laugh it off or feel ashamed.

But the more I reflect on this whole experience, the more I am struck by how perplexed these policemen were. They came into the party expecting to find very specific crimes–they even told our hosts that they were sure to find drugs since “partying and drugs generally go together.” They had no category for us Christians. Clearly the idea of a bunch of twenty-somethings getting together to have fun on a weekend, without the use of drugs or excessive drinking, was beyond their capacity to except. That’s why they KEPT asking us questions and grew increasingly frustrated–we didn’t make sense to them.

No one ever told the cops that we were Christians, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing given how much they seemed to think we were utterly depraved individuals. But I kind of wish we had told them we were believers, because I don’t think they left that house thinking we were bad people. I think that, even if their pride wouldn’t have let them admit it, the policemen knew that they’d jumped the gun on us. They knew they had overreacted. The bullying was merely a mechanism for covering up their embarrassment at treating innocent people so horribly.

But the reason I wish we had told them we were Christians is that this experience reminds me of a specific verse in Scripture. 1 Peter 2:12 reads, “Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us.”

This verse reminds us of two things. One, people need to know that we’re Christians. If we looks different, but people don’t know why, then we don’t accomplish very much. We therefore need to be open about our faith, and that’s why I wish we had told the cops we were Christians.

But the second thing this verse reminds us is that we should stand out in exceptional ways. We should have gone the extra mile with those policemen, rather than merely defending our innocence. We should have apologized to them if we had done anything wrong, been perfectly compliant, and exceedingly kind. Instead, we largely got defensive. By the time the cops left, we were all pretty ticked off, and it showed.

But as this verse implies, it’s not enough to be innocent of what people may accuse us. Defending ourselves and demanding that we be treated fairly is not an effective means of conveying the Gospel, because even non-Christians do that when they are falsely accused. What non-Christians DON’T do is fall on their swords and love their accuser anyway. We must therefore go beyond innocence, adding to it the practices of unconditional love and good deeds. In this way, Christians will not merely be known as the people who follow the rules, but as the people who love in such a way that is not only disarming, but wonderful.

I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m at a party that gets busted by the cops.