Hello loved ones,
February has sped by, and given the springy weather we've been having here, I've felt very disoriented. Shouldn't we be having another few months of winter before the thermometer hits mid-60s? Where is all the snow? Not to say I haven't been enjoying it; all of us at ye olde Wheeler house have been, throwing open windows to air out the winter blues, sunbathing by the southern patio door, and generally getting outside as much as possible. But really, I keep thinking, when is the other shoe going to drop?
We received a package of seeds in the mail the other day from MIGardener, which included the kid's gardening plan for this year: a three-sisters-style collection of sweet corn (Percy's choice), pole beans (Louisa), cantaloupe (Kai), watermelon (Nadia), and sunflowers and amaranth (Digory). The idea is to plant the corn in a two circles with about four feet between each circle. Once it hits 6 inches to a foot, you plant pole beans around each stalk, then vining plants (squash, melon, etc.) around the circle. The corn provides a trellis for the beans, the beans hold the corn together and fix nitrogen in the soil, the vining plants provide water retention and weed control. Between the two circles, we're going to plant two other sisters, amaranth and sunflower, which provide shade and attract pollinators. I'll report back on how it goes.
Lent has hit me different this year. Sometimes I really need it. This year it feels far away, perhaps because with all the forward momentum in our lives, the year is already speeding by me and most of my reaction has just been to say, "what? already?" Perhaps you feel the same.
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that the book I released last year around this time, Masks and Mirrors, is decidedly Lenten in scope, shaped as it is like a death and resurrection. I commend it to you as a companion to the season, with the prayer that it would encourage you: at the bottom of the well, God is there.
Anyhow, I'm glad for the phase of life we're in. I see growth in many areas, in my own heart, in the hearts of my family and church and community. Funny that sometimes I miss the static nature of some seasons, the slowness of winter, right when I should be angling toward spring. But here we are in Lent and in spring, somehow. The world still turns. The cross still stands.
At the end of 2023, tired and grumpy as I was, I wrote up a brief Tethered Letter that I ended up deciding not to publish. The gist of it was that I didn't intend to talk about politics at all this year on Substack (not that I wouldn't have the conversations in person). I was thinking I would just stay out of the fray entirely, and I thought it would be good to let you all know that.
But I let the letter sleep a few weeks and got some feedback on it from Linnea, who often gives me fresh perspective. I realized that staying out of politics wasn't really true to what this Substack is about — engaging all areas of life from the standpoint of faith. Since political engagement is one very small part of our human experience (and should never become what we're essentially about), I'm probably not going to talk about it much.
But recently I've done some thinking about how I personally need to approach politics this year, and hopefully these thoughts will be encouraging to you and spark some of your own. If you're reading this and thinking, aw shucks I didn't sign up for politics, have no fear. This is a relatively rare occurrence for Tethered Letters.
As an entry point, here's a pertinent rabbit trail (one of my favorite trails).
I recently came across a certain board of education decision in a township in New Jersey, regarding a controversial policy. Given that recently joining my library board has fueled my curiosity about how other local board and council meetings are run, I decided to observe the proceedings. You can watch the whole thing here, as I did, if you are interested.
After the standard opening mix of board stuff, they opened the floor to public comment. The people who shared, as you might imagine, brought forward a fascinating mix of opinions and personalities from all over the map — especially given that these meetings are, remarkably, open to comments from people outside the actual community the board serves.1 Ultimately, the board chose to rescind the policy and moved on to other business. That's when it got really interesting.
After the bulk of the business was completed, prompted by a few follow-up questions about what parental rights had been added by this decision, it became clear that despite the high-intensity arguments for and against the policy that occurred over the last few months, literally nothing had been substantively changed in either direction, by its initial adoption or its rescinding.
One board member insisted that, because of the repeal, "Nothing should be hidden from parents." The attorney then clarified:
"The change here... is the removal of language... that is purely optional. The sentence is, "there is no affirmative duty for any school district staff member to notify a student's parent or guardian of the student's gender identity or expression." So, with that sentence gone, the parental rights policy does not require disclosure of every discussion between every teacher and staff member, but it does still require complete access by all parents and guardians to all student records."
As another board member notes: "So nothing's different."
When it was adopted last year, the policy did not add anything to the law or to school policy, except for the nebulous sense that something had been done to protect transgender kids, and that parental rights been taken away from conservative parents — when both parties already had those protections and rights under New Jersey law. By rescinding it, no rights were actually added or taken away.
The whole thing — months of heated arguments, election runs with promises to repeal the policy, hateful and threatening social media exchanges, and outsiders inserting their opinions into a local community proceedings — all of it... was a total wash.
If you have a chance, listen to the comments by David Cittadino (School Superintendent/CSA) at the end (from 3:31:39 forward), clarifying further what school policy actually is and always has been. Notably, he adds that teachers may not lie to a parent if asked about conversations, but they are not required to bring things up outside of student records. The policy had clarified that conversations about gender were included in conversations vs. records, but it was never a campaign against parental rights.
This clarification happened after the majority of parties had left, either incensed or satisfied by the decision. Perhaps they've heard these clarifications before — I don't doubt it, given that these conversations have happened over a three-month period. Maybe it didn't get said enough. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered.
So why is this interesting to me?
First, it's an illuminating case study on what the culture warriors from either side are doing to local governance — replacing real communication and information with misapplied dogma, lessening the ability of local leaders to effectively do the jobs they really need to do, and elevating misinformed individuals on both sides into positions of authority, from which further fomentation can occur.
Second, it's a warning against activism (on either side!) that seeks only symbolic wins over substantive action, otherwise known as virtue signaling, i.e. "Look at me, I've said something right so I've done my part." Whatever thing we support or oppose, what is it actually doing to help the people we claim to want to help? That's why Cittadino's comments at the end are credible and helpful, because he and his staff are the ones actually doing the work of caring for students.
Third, it's sobering to me that the only thing really accomplished here was a widening of the rift between community members. The insults and hatred from both sides have made people think about their neighbors differently, and for the sake of what?
Are there policies that need to be fought for or against? Certainly. (Maybe the first is not allowing people from the outside the community to share their opinions about what the community should be doing for its own people?) But we need to penetrate the smoke screens and find out what's really going on before we make decisions, and definitely before we take sides against our neighbors.
Ultimately, I'm thinking about this because this year promises to be a contentious one politically, and I want to be methodical about how I approach decisions and conversations. It's easy to say "vote your conscience," but my conscience can only operate with the information I offer it. If I feed it incomplete or untrue information, the decisions I make based on its whisperings will undoubtedly do more harm than good. In today's political and cultural conversations, wisdom and discernment are required prior to action.
What this means practically might be:
Asking the right questions out of a "love your neighbor" stance rather than a "catch your neighbor in a mistake" or "prove I'm thinking the right things" stance.
Taking the time to look into what's really going on, which often means wading through the nitty-gritty details to get to the truth. We can't just take what we hear at face value — we need to read the policy and understand the implications for ourselves, for instance.
Choosing our battles. These days, I'm aiming to engage with people I know personally on these topics, not with strangers.
Refusing to play the "high-stakes" game. When we hear alarmists on all sides saying, for instance, that this is the most important election of all time or that we're in a battle for the soul of America, we need to remember that the same has been said about every election. Our hope does not rest in politics, but in Jesus Christ. Full stop, no disclaimers.
Accepting that my binary decisions (a yes or no is all we often get!) might be difficult for others to understand, and that's okay. I have to make the decision that I believe is right. Also, I should be willing to take the time to explain my choice when asked.
All of this, btw, I'm mostly applying to local politics. The only convincing reason for me to be fully invested in a conversation on national politics is how that topic is affecting my physical neighbor, the one I'm talking to in person.
I'm sure there's more, and I'd love to hear your ideas in the comments.
A closing thought on Christian engagement in politics.
I have been seeing some Christ-claiming organizations make the striking claim, in relation to how the Church should respond to the culture wars, that "silence in the face of evil is itself evil."
On the surface I see what they mean: we should be courageous to speak the truth, right? But this idea conflates holding one's tongue with tacit agreement, and suggests that the Christians who are not engaging with the culture wars on Facebook are just going along with evil, and therefore are evil.
What these folks are really saying is that because the Church is not promoting their (usually misinformed and sometimes crooked) message, the Church is compromising, spineless, and wicked. Silence is violence. And that's a really bold statement for professing Christians to make about fellow believers, especially considering Isaiah's statements about Jesus:
"He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he opened not his mouth." (Isaiah 53:7)
If you've read my words for any length of time, you know that I react pretty strongly to the argument that we need to DO MORE and by DOING MORE we are good Christians. I react against this so strongly because that's not what Christianity is. Being a Christian is believing that I can do nothing to save myself or anyone else, and therefore I place all of my trust in Christ alone, whose death and resurrection accomplished what I could never achieve.
Living in light of the cross, we follow Him — not an ideology, a demagogue, or a political party. We make our decisions by looking to His Word and His character, not to partisan talking points. The example set before me for all things, including interaction with the world, is that of Christ.
My prayer is that throughout this season of Lent, and in the election cycle to come, we would set before ourselves the example of Christ in every thought, word, and deed:
"Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.
Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." (Philippians 2:3-11)
February Favorites:
I've been really enjoying the relaxed vibe of Alvin Zhou's cooking videos recently. Plus they make me super hungry.
Jess Ray's MATIN: Rest album is gorgeous and orienting.
A Compass for Deep Heaven, essays on C. S. Lewis's Space Trilogy, is perfectly nerdy and I love it.
The Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory: American Evangelicals in an Age of Extremism (Tim Alberta) is eye-opening even to someone who has been swimming in the ecosystem for a while. But it's also a remarkably fair assessment of that ecosystem from another ecosystem swimmer, who happens to be both a believer and an investigative journalist. I commend it to you as a really helpful window into the current moment.
We've been making the tostada recipe from Brian Lagerstrom's 5-ingredient Mexican dishes video. It's easy and delicious and the kids like it too.
If you haven't been keeping up with it, can I also commend my new series Chasing the Wind to you? It's basically an extended love letter to Wind in the Willows, and it's been so fun to write.
We've just started the first season of the original Avatar: The Last Airbender with the kids, and it is way better than it has any reason to be. Linnea and I have been thoroughly enjoying it along with them. Digory really, really wants you to know how much he loves Momo.
Related Posts:
One interesting sidenote of the discussion involved how different board members took the community temperature. One board member collected email responses (from residents and non-residents) about the decision to the tune of 104 supporting the policy, and 38 opposed. However, another board member later pointed out that three of the newly-elected board members received over 5000 votes (from residents) on a platform of rescinding the policy. The numbers matter, but who they represent exactly also matters.
Ugh, feeling you on Lent feeling far away this year.
Also, isn't it ironic how conservatives tote the "silence is violence" line too? It's like both sides are screaming at each other and all that emerges is a deafening silence. No one is heard.
I'm desperate for God's wisdom these days
Thank you for being willing to think through these things out loud. Something that I’ve been exploring as a measuring stick for my political engagement is the lens of God’s beauty. So many overemphasize either God’s holiness or love, justice or mercy, compassion or righteousness, when the unique beauty of God is the paradoxical combination of these attributes. I’m thinking through how I can reflect that paradox in my own political engagement and beliefs.