This morning, my coffee is strong—and apparently, so are my thoughts.
Maybe I should have had breakfast first. Maybe I should have chosen a softer topic. But here we are: coffee in hand, Bible nearby, and politics sitting at the table like the loud relative nobody invited but everybody has an opinion about.
So, let me take a risk.
What if nobody is really following Jesus?
Before you clutch your pearls—or your favorite political hat—notice that I said nobody. I did not say “those people.” I did not say one party, one president, one movement, or one side of the aisle. I said nobody, and I am standing inside that word too.
Because if we are honest, many of us do not follow Jesus as much as we ask Jesus to follow us.
We choose our position, our party, our candidate, and our preferred news channel. Then we search the Scriptures for something that sounds like an endorsement. We invite Jesus into our politics, but only if He agrees to sit quietly, wear our colors, and bless the opinions we already have.
But Jesus has never been easy to recruit.
He loved people His culture told Him to avoid. He touched the untouchable. He welcomed children when the important people wanted them moved out of the way. He spoke with women, ate with sinners, confronted religious leaders, and told the powerful that greatness looks like service.
He said, “Love your enemies.”
Not tolerate them. Not mock them. Not destroy them in the comments and then post a Bible verse before bed.
Love them.
That command alone should make every one of us put down our coffee, close our mouths, and examine our hearts.
I see Christians who can defend a politician faster than they can defend the poor. I see people excuse cruelty when it comes from their own side and condemn it when it comes from the other. I see Scripture used as a weapon against people Jesus told us to love. And if I look closely enough, I see the same temptation in myself—the temptation to be right, to win, to feel superior, and to call it righteousness.
But being loud is not the same as being faithful.
Winning an argument is not the same as making a disciple.
And political power is not the same as the Kingdom of God.
Jesus did not say the world would recognize us by our bumper stickers, voting records, or ability to embarrass strangers online. He said people would know we are His disciples by our love for one another.
That does not mean convictions do not matter. They do. Justice matters. Truth matters. Leadership matters. Policies affect real families, real bodies, real bank accounts, and real futures. Faith should shape the way we engage with all of it.
But when our politics gives us permission to become hateful, dishonest, arrogant, or indifferent to suffering, it is no longer being shaped by Jesus. It is shaping us.
And maybe that is the question we need to ask—not “Is Jesus on my side?” but “Am I still on His?”
Am I loving my neighbor when my neighbor votes differently?
Am I telling the truth when a lie benefits my side?
Am I showing mercy only to people I believe deserve it?
Do I care about injustice everywhere, or only when it makes the other team look bad?
Can people see Jesus in the way I speak to those I disagree with?
Those questions make for an uncomfortable cup of coffee.
But perhaps discomfort is not the enemy. Perhaps it is an invitation.
Jesus did not call us to be comfortable members of a religious voting bloc. He called us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow Him. Following means He leads. It means He gets to challenge our loyalties, interrupt our certainty, correct our attitudes, and change our minds.
It means no elephant, no donkey, no flag, and no human leader gets the throne that belongs to Christ.
I am not asking anyone to stop caring about politics. I am asking us to care even more about becoming like Jesus.
Vote with conviction. Speak the truth. Stand for justice. Hold leaders accountable—all of them. But do it without surrendering the fruit of the Spirit. Do not trade love for influence, gentleness for applause, goodness for access, or self-control for the thrill of outrage.
If following Jesus never challenges our politics, we may be following our politics and simply using His name.
Whew.
I told you the coffee was strong today.
So before we point across the aisle, let us look across the table—and then into the mirror. Let us ask Jesus to search us first. To expose the places where party has become an idol, anger has become entertainment, and being right has become more important than being loving.
Maybe nobody follows Jesus perfectly. I certainly do not.
But today, we can choose to follow Him more closely than we did yesterday—not to the left, not to the right, but behind Jesus.
Coffee in hand. Pride laid down. Hearts open.
And with enough grace to remember that the person on the other side of the table is someone He died for too.
“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” — John 13:35

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