May 08, 2008 09:57 am
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As the Senate continues to prepare for the upcoming special session, a few thoughts have turned to an earlier, more simple time – last year’s campaign season.
It can’t be easy to welcome a politician into one’s abode. Rumor has it they are noisy, obstinate and discomforting. Be that as it may, I was welcomed into countless homes while campaigning across the district. The vast majority of my encounters were more than civil, even enjoyable. Hundreds of doors were opened to a crusading stranger, as I was greeted as an extended part of numerous families. In retrospect, it all makes perfect sense. Perhaps we are all part of the same family – a kindred of Southerners bound together by common heritage, shared struggles, collective heartaches and a loving God.
If I had a dime for every sweet tea offered, matched only by kind words of encouragement, I would have ended the campaign a wealthy man. It was inspiring.
As Faulkner once believed, Mississippi has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. Accommodating the most hospitable people in the world, I am honored to be a native son. And I am delighted to raise my family within its borders. Crowned by vines of kudzu, magnificent magnolias and eternal evergreens, Mississippi will forever be our home.
Of course, not all on the campaign trail was perfect. There was one particular dwelling where the hospitality was exceeded by a peculiarly bellicose opinion. As I recall, it was a warm Saturday in July, and we were about to wrap up the day. The air was still and the humidity stifling. Sweating, I walked onto a porch expecting a handshake and smile. I should have known better.
Out stomped an older gentleman, looking somewhat familiar. Upon further examination, it was a person my family had known for many years. He’d always been unusually polite. This time, however, he was different.
Before I was able to utter a plea for support, he looked at me with a scowl and vocalized in a heavy drawl, “I’m not voting for you.” Smiling, as I betrayed my true emotions, I endeavored to ask an innocent question in an attempt to unmask his true intentions. “Might I ask why?” my voice quivered with anxiety. He replied, “Because I’ve always known you to be a fine young Christian man, and if we send you up there, you’ll turn out just like them.” Without hesitation, he continued to explain why he did not trust those “crooks” and he refused to “do that to me” – whatever “that” was. I responded with my very best dumbfounded stare. And for the first time in my life, I was speechless – not a comfortable position for an attorney. It wasn’t my best campaign moment.
Although I disagreed with his opinion, I thanked him for his honesty and slowly walked back to the car, dejected. Politics can be difficult and lonely, since criticism, negative responses and scar tissue go with the territory. My skin thickens daily.
Looking back, I’ve tried to empathize with him. Maybe he was just trying to protect me, or perhaps he was simply inclined to not support me. One thing was clear, however. His faith in government was misplaced years ago, along with his trust of politicians. I can’t say that I begrudge him, since a healthy suspicion of government is something we probably have in common. That’s where our commonality ended.
He left me with the traumatic impression – right or wrong – that my Christian faith somehow disqualified me from public service, implying that Christians don’t belong in the political arena, since they do not possess the fortitude to resist the evil temptations of politics. Maybe he believed the process would somehow endanger my immortal soul. Regardless, I disagreed with his naive approach.
His rejection of my candidacy was not the unpalatable part of our conversation. I had become accustomed to rejection. I was troubled instead about his fearful reluctance, as a Christian, to actively engage the system. I remain concerned about his lack of confidence in Christians to positively influence the political arena. Has the courageous faith of Charlemagne softened into one of timidity?
There was a time, not too long ago, when Christianity had meaningful cultural significance. But the societal influence of our faith is diminishing. We’ve witnessed results of the decline in academia, the entertainment industry and in government. As many Christians remain unwilling to become involved in the system, ignoring their obligation to critique the culture and influence the political marketplace of ideas, our religion slides toward the fringe of society.
Fault lies with each of us, including the gentleman from the porch. When people of good conscience fail to preserve traditional values, cultural emptiness is encouraged. Neglecting moral truth, many of our citizens are now obsessed with an ethical philosophy that rejects revealed knowledge as well as theistic morality. While emphasizing the perfectibility of man, it is alien to traditional belief systems but is increasingly influential in politics, ethics and education. It is our nation’s new obsession – secular humanism. Though we’ve become docile in our approach, its adherents are persistent and unrelenting, like waves crashing against the shore.
The end result of our inability to preserve traditional values, along with our reluctance to speak out against evil, has empowered much of our nation to ignore immeasurable societal ills. Indeed, our moral order has been turned upside down.
While standing there on the porch that day, I should have responded. I should have defended my place in the system, our place in the system. I won’t be silent again. Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo do gloriam.
Perhaps wealth is better measured by lessons learned.
Please contact me at 601-359-4090 (senate) or (601)649-8611 (Work) or Email – cmcdaniel@senate.ms.gov
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State Senator Chris McDaniel