With election day coming in only 72 hours, chaos is everywhere.
Half of America is going to lose.
Regardless of who is elected, millions of people will be angry, half of a family celebrating while the other half recovers from a gut punch. We’re expecting riots or protests, major disruption and…more chaos.
The media has a golden child, poised to win. We’ve all seen the polls–and as far as news anchors want us to know, the election has basically already been decided. But America is big, and it’s not just people in cities who have a voice; they’re all hoping to hear the silent majority roar.
Part of me looks forward to November 4th, when we can finally have our answer and start moving forward. The other part of me, not so much–what if the candidate I voted for loses? Half of us will be very disappointed, and there’s a 50% chance I’ll be one of them.
What if our freedoms are taken away? What if we have no way to protect the children? What if I end up with no say over the health or education of my kids? We all have our own what ifs.
What if, what if, what if?
Where is Jesus in all of this?
Let me tell you a story, and it’s true. It’s not my story though. No, it’s written by someone far, far wiser than me, and it’s from his sermon, “Thriving in Babylon” as part of the Best Sermon Ever series at Mars Hill Church. I heard Dr. Larry Osborne give this sermon more than 7 years ago, and I’ve never forgotten this illustration–today it’s too relevant not to share.
From Dr. Larry Osborne’s Thriving in Babylon sermon transcript (edited for readability),
“I’m a USC Football fan. A few years ago, USC was on its way to [what] looked like a second undefeated season in National Championship. And they were playing Notre Dame. Now, if you are a USC football fan, you understand this. The most important game to win is not the UCLA game, it’s the Notre Dame game. That’s the big game.
Well, they are playing a very pedestrian, not very good Notre Dame team at Notre Dame.
Any of you who have played sports know this simple rule of thumb, and that is, if you have a chance to take down your opponent and you let them off the hook, you are likely to lose. You better get it when you can.
And sure enough, they kept squandering opportunity after opportunity, and suddenly, out in the fourth quarter, Notre Dame goes ahead, and now there’s one minute left in the stinking game and USC is about to lose this undefeated season, National Champion hopes, all [of it]. Notre Dame stadium is going nuts. It’s one of those stadiums where the stands go right to the field.
And it is now less than one minute left, third and fairly long, and I’m just, you know, praying to Jesus, covering all my bases, like, “Come on, help me out.”
And USC’s quarterback fades back to pass. As he looks for somebody to pass to keep the drive going and maybe pull the game out, nobody’s open. A Notre Dame lineman breaks through the line and throws him for a thirteen-yard loss.
The stands go nuts–you know how the TV guys let you hear all the sound of the stands and all.
The Notre Dame guys are high-fiving each other. A few of them are chest bumping.
It’s now fourth and a kazillion yards, no time left in the game, the leprechaun’s doing his stupid little thing, I’m dying.
I’m watching this game at home alone in my library on the couch. I get up—first of all, I’m really upset because I’ve lost my sanctification like that.
I’m wondering, “Where’s Jesus in all of this?” and I start marching around the couch with all these Christian euphemisms. That’s what pastors do when they’re upset, you know? And it’s like, “Life just stinks. It sucks. I mean, it’s horrible.” Don’t look at me that way; you’ve been there too.
And then somehow, on fourth and a kazillion, with the stands just going nuts, no hope of anything happening, Leinart fades back, he looks around, and he throws a pass down the sideline.
It just gets over the fingertips of the defensive back, nestles in the receiver’s arms. He gets to the one-foot line, and his time runs out. A famous play called the “Bush Push” takes place, and God is back on his throne.
I’m right with Jesus.
Everything is good.
Now, here’s the weird part–I have a DVD of that game. I’m not that kind of fan. I don’t watch it weekly, but I have watched it. And you know what happens? When I come to that play where he fades back and he’s thrown for the big loss and the game is essentially all over in everybody’s eyes, guess what I do?
I play it in slow motion, and then I play it again.
And I’m watching the crowd go nuts, I’m watching the high-five, I’m watching the chest bumps, I watch the little leprechaun, and I play it back. I go, “Hey, happy leprechaun.”
What’s different? Only one thing:
I know how the game ends.
Nobody is certain how the election will turn out, or what America will be like 72 hours down the road. One person will be elected the new president, the rest of us won’t be, and half of America will have lost.
The annoying little leprechauns are all dancing, and in three days, they may very well be throwing one heck of a party.
Part of me wants nothing more than to throw a football right at that silly leprechaun’s face.
Admittedly, if I was re-watching this game, it would be a lot easier. I’d play it in slow motion and I’d wave to that little leprechaun doing his thing. It stinks watching it all unfold for the very first time, because this isn’t just some football game.
Here’s the thing: it’s not the perfect illustration, because genuine suffering is not a part of pro sports. People could, and likely will, suffer as a result of this election, whether due to rioting or government overreach or losing freedoms. Suffering is important and real and it’s one of the many reasons why this election matters.
But we still know, ultimately, how this game ends. This president will be in power for four years and Jesus will be in power forever.
Dr. Osborne continues his sermon to remind us that the darker it gets, the more powerful the tiniest of lights is.
It’s going to get darker–the Bible says so.
We can’t stop the leprechaun from dancing, but we can be a light, even the very tiniest of lights.
One day, when we’ve reached eternity, perhaps God will have saved the DVD and we can go back and watch it again. We can play this election in slow motion, and then we can play it again. We can watch the crowd go nuts, certain they have won it all, and feel delight instead of dread.
Today, there are a thousand question marks regarding all the plays that happen between now and victory. Still, we can let our little light shine and we can watch the game unfold with confidence.
What’s different?
Only one thing:
We know how the game ends.
Watch Dr. Larry Osborne’s full sermon, Thriving in Babylon, here:
http://marshill.se/marshill/media/best-sermon-ever/dr-larry-osborne-thriving-in-babylon