I think the real heart of the matter in American politics is this:

How should we, as a society, care for the marginal, vulnerable, and weak?

I believe the fuel for our anger in this country is that all of us feel marginal, vulnerable, and weak.

The spark that lights the political inferno comes from this rub: Which among the marginal, vulnerable, and weak deserves triage? When all of us feel marginal, vulnerable, and weak, it’s easy for politicians to stoke our fears into madness…and turn us on one another for votes.

Sure, we feel bad for the next person in line, but we’ll be damned if anyone takes bread out of our children’s mouths. If it comes down to me or you, buddy, well…I’m sorry.

Let me be clear as a bell: I believe the division we see in American politics is by design. “Divide and conquer” is a political strategy as old as politics itself.

Politicians win when the...

Sex is fertile ground for thinking about faith and spirituality.

I grew up in a Christian tribe that taught sex simply: It’s intercourse for married people. It’s how husbands and wives make babies and sometimes blow off some steam.

Sex in marriage was OK. And that is exactly how they put it in my Christian tribe: “OK.” As in, “God allows sex in marriage. He’ll shake his head and look the other way while you indulge in marital ‘relations.’” It’s as if God needed a way for human beings to “be fruitful and multiply” and he settled for sexual intercourse.

So, sex in marriage was just OK.

Meanwhile, sex out of marriage was not OK. It was a sin. It was the sin. It was the sin of sins. Why? Because sex was such a bad thing that the sacred institution of marriage could only just barely redeem it. So outside of marriage, sex was all hell breaking loose. Pregnancy and STDs were the least...

I’ve noticed something disturbing in myself since November 9, 2016.

It’s language. Words that drift through my mind. They seem to settle somewhere around my chest until it puffs out so much it pushes my chin and nose to a slight upward tilt.

These words…

“Buffoon.”

“Clown.”

“Con man.”

“Crook.”

“Disgrace.”

“Fool.”

“Idiot.”

“Incompetent.”

“Scumbag.”

“Sleaze.”

“Idiot.”

I can go on and it can get worse.

I am, of course, thinking these words to myself as I read the New York Times coverage of president-elect Donald Trump.

At some point this week, I actually listened to myself think. What I heard going through my mind was every bit as sinful and wrong as the behavior I was criticizing in someone else. I became what I judged. And I wasn’t judging for any good reason; only because it feels good to judge myself better than someone else.

I’ve criticized Donald Trump for his...

A few weeks ago, I heard an interview with Dr. John Townsend in which he said a line that is stuck on autoplay repeat in my mind.

He said: “Replace ‘I deserve’ with ‘I’m responsible.’”

Here in the United States, we need to make this our mantra as we’re likely to breathe the fumes of the presidential election for a long time.

You see, the American political industry runs on votes that it mines from the “I deserve” statements of the electorate. In an era when everybody is shouting “I deserve!” it is no wonder our political landscape is so fissured and polluted.

What kind of person shouts: “I deserve!”

A frightened person. A person who looks out on a world of scarcity and threats. A person who believes that he will lose if someone else wins.

What kind of person says, gently: “I’m responsible.”

A person of faith and hope. A person who believes in abundance and plenty. A person who...

America is an easy stand-in for the power and glory we wish for ourselves. We like being big, rich, and super powerful to the exclusion of all other nations on earth. We don’t often take “American exceptionalism” as the putdown it is meant to be; we wear it like a badge of honor. Being American makes us feel like we ourselves are exceptional, powerful, second to none.

Or at least that we deserve to be so if we aren’t already. Because, you know, we’re American.

When we don’t feel like we’re in our rightful place at the top, we go looking for two things: Someone to blame and someone to put us back on our pedestal. Nowhere is this more plain than a political campaign. Blame and promises of future power and glory win a lot of votes.

Make America great again so I can feel great again. Power and glory.

Every morning on the way to school, I say the Lord’s prayer with my four-year son...

The United States of America is not one nation; it is two.

My own Detroit metropolitan region–the Detropolis (thank you Jeff Slater)–is not one city; it is two.

My own Christian family here in America is not one Christianity; it is two.

What’s the difference?

In broad and naked terms:

Dark skin and light skin. “Have-some-or-none” and “have-more-or-a-lot-more”. Urban and rural. Social liberals and social conservatives.

There are more. You get the picture.

Here’s how I see things in the aftermath of the presidential election. Politicians get votes by stirring the anger and fear of one against the other. They frame the problem or the threat as “The Other.” They offer solutions that, at their most basic, lift up one group while keeping The Other down, out, or in her or his place.

As a struggling-to-be-an apprentice and student of the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, I...

It’s morning in America. November 9, 2016, to be exact.

I just saw the news (and I don’t need to tell you what news I’m talking about).

My four-year old son, Daniel, has the croup. I went to bed early expecting to be up a few times during the night. I’m thankful that he only woke us three times and was finally sleeping soundly when I got up at 7 a.m.

It is no secret that I was vocal in my support for Hillary Clinton. I tried to be far less vocal about my opposition to Donald Trump and what he represents. This campaign, like all campaigns, needed more civility, dialogue, and thoughtful reflection. I wanted to build a case for Clinton without tearing down Trump. After all, tearing down the candidate is the same as tearing down the people who support the candidate. Those people are my family and friends and neighbors. I cannot and will not tear them down.

I admit: The news that...

It’s Election Day in the United States and I’d like to say I rose at 3:30 a.m. to pray for my country.

Not so. I awoke at 3:30 a.m. to a coughing four-year old with a runny nose. After 90 minutes in and out of his room (I think he’s finally asleep), I’m taking some time to pray, reflect, and write as this day of crazy begins.

I’ve put more prayer, reflection, thought, and words to this election than any since I first voted for president in 1996 (Bob Dole if you want to know). I was an activist Republican until college, when I decided that expressing my political opinions would do more harm than good. Before this election, I can think of only one instance since the late 1990s when I came out in a very public way for a candidate. That was in 2008, when my church asked me to write a 250-word pro-Obama piece for the church bulletin. Another member of the church was to write a pro-McCain...

Our Father in heaven.
Hallowed be your name.
Your kingdom come.
Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
Forgive our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours forever and ever.
Amen.

You could say that I’m an above-average social studies student. I finished my college civics courses while I was still in high school. As a high school senior, I made it to the state finals of the American Legion Citizenship Bee. You’ll still find a “Social Studies Student of the Year” plaque with my name on it in the trophy case at Ashland High School in Ashland, Ohio.

I’ve followed civics, current events, history, legal issues, and politics even closer in adulthood than I did in high school. I not only vote in every election, I spend months or even years carefully studying candidates and issues so I’m confident that I’m making the best decision when I fill out my ballot. Over the course of 20 years, I’ve voted for both Democrats and Republicans in local, state, and national elections.

Participating in civics for all these years built up a good amount of perspective and changed the...