But if Biden wins, you say…
But if Trump wins, you say…
“But if.” Do you, even for a fleeting moment, imagine that this is God’s first rodeo? Do you honestly think Jesus’s blood pressure has risen a mere one half of one percent during this election cycle?
Tell me something.
Where were you when God laid the foundations of the earth?
Tell me, if you have this figured out.
Who determined the world’s measurements—surely you know!
Who shut in the sea with its doors when it burst out from the womb?
Who hung the stars in their celestial canopy?
Who causes the sun to rise, the moon to wax and wane?
Let me know, you all-wise mortal.
When the Egyptian warriors, with eyes of flame and chariots screaming, ran like roaring lions toward the people of God at the Red Sea, did God flip out? Did he lose sleep that night, wondering how he could possibly use this situation for good?
When the Babylonian army, sprayed with the blood of thousands slain, trampled the holy city underfoot, spit in the face of the Holy of Holies, and led God’s people in chains to a land not their own, was God worried? Did he have his Ivy League angels working overtime, trying to figure out how he could possibly cause even this situation to work out for good?
But 2020 is different, you say. How? Tell me.
Has the Creator of heaven and earth changed?
Has the might of the Lord of lords atrophied?
Has he who walked upon the water now sunk?
Has Daniel’s lion tamer retired and moved to Florida?
God’s not worried about the election. He’s bigger and he’s better than that.
Should Biden win, all shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.
Should Trump win, all shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.
You know why? Because Christ is risen and is seated at the right hand of God.
No particle of dust lands on your phone screen without his knowledge.
No hair from your head falls onto the bathroom counter without him counting it.
God has the whole world in his nail-scarred hands. And he has you.
May things get worse? Sure.
May they get better? Sure.
Whatever happens on Tuesday, Tuesday will still be a day when Christ is risen. Your sins will still be forgiven. Your life will still be redeemed. Death will still be conquered.
Cast your vote with an air of bold and defiant levity. Don’t take yourself, or this election, so seriously. No string of unfortunate events can stop Christ's beating heart of mercy. No politician can un-Easter our Lord.
We preach Christ crucified and risen for you. For you. For you. It’ll all been done on your behalf.
Lift up your head and laugh, dear Christian, for the grave is empty. Jesus lives and reigns. And nothing will dampen, becloud, or stop that best of news.