Introduction: Recently I was with fellow soldiers in Indiana. Because I have the affections of a country boy, I love my times in America’s heartland. Churches dot the region. And the folks are generally friendly. Though I know nothing about cars or racing, those pastimes are obviously important to a lot of folks from that region. And engines, trucking, and logistics industries thrive there—things like Cummins, and myriad trucking companies, and companies like FedEx and Amazon, etc. But what I love most is the land—the long and wide plaids of fields. When I’m flying into Indy on clear days, Indiana appears as an earth-tone plaid, with seemingly endless furrows, and the trees that border the massive fields this week were ablaze with autumnal pride, as if pumpkins were in their boughs, so orange was the blaze.

Questions: What does this have to do with theological encouragement? I mean, shouldn’t I write about all the political sloganeering and pandering and the stoked animosity? Isn’t that what’s important?

Well, it is not unimportant, I would say. I do think American citizens should vote. And as a Christian, I think we are obligated to vote for the candidate that more closely has demonstrated biblical values-like the sanctity of life, the protection of biblical marriage, the end of all the DEI and woke madness and folly, and the upholding of law and order. Yes.

But what I relearn each time I’m across the country is that the folks with whom I dialogue are so much nicer, so much more humane, so much richer and more complex than political sloganeering would have us believe.

Even folks with whom I might disagree are generally kind people. Sure, there’s always the obnoxious guy/gal; that person’s in every crowd. But generally, folks are just folks. They have a family, friends, work a job/vocation, try to go on vacations occasionally, feed their pets, buy groceries in their zip code, some go to church, and are just normal folks. They’re doing their best to keep a lid on their emotions as they see polarization tempt them towards invective, but by and large, they resist.

So, here’s my encouragement: It comes from the pen of the apostle Peter, writing less than 30 years after the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ:

For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. (1 Peter 2:15 ESV)

We can succumb to the temptation to parrot slanderous bromides; we can descend into tribalism and us vs. them emoting, but we shouldn’t. How do those means invariably play out? Not well. Why not act the way God commends—by “doing good” so that we “put to silence the ignorance of foolish people”? In the end, folly is not a winning strategy. Wisdom is called wisdom for a reason, and folly is called folly for a reason, and trees are known by their fruit.