David McElroy

I don’t really want to create things. Honestly, I don’t. In one way or another, I’ve fought it all my life. Creating is difficult. There’s tremendous risk of failure and embarrassment. There’s frequently not a lot of money in it (if at all). And it’s hard to explain to people what you do and who you really are.

I don’t want to put up with any of those things. I hate them. I’d rather be something easy to explain. I’d rather do something that other people were more willing to pay for. I’d rather do something that more readily gives me the money that a future wife wants.

But I don’t have any choice. I have to create things. When I don’t, I start dying.

As with so many creators, I struggle with the question of whether I’m an artist. Honestly, I’m afraid I am, but I feel like a fake to say so. Artists are those who paint or sculpt or do something that’s displayed in galleries. My work these days is mostly for myself or friends on Facebook or something for readers here. But am I actually a writer? Am I an artist?

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Jesus wasn’t an American. He’s not a Democrat. He’s not a Republican. He’s not asking you to vote for a “pro-family agenda.” He’s also not calling you to elect politicians to achieve “social justice.” These things are news to some people.

There’s absolutely no reason to think God even wants you to vote. You’re lying to yourself and to others if you superimpose your own political views onto God — no matter what your beliefs are.

It’s been common throughout history for nations to claim that God was on their side, regardless of what they called God and regardless of what the rest of their theological beliefs were. Whatever “our side” did was favored by God — or the gods or Allah 0r whatever they called their deity. If you’re a Christian and you’re doing this today, you’re engaging in blasphemy, because you’re claiming to speak for God — and you’re just making things up and claiming they’re from Him.

I don’t have the exact quote anymore, but I once heard talk radio host Ian Punnett say that for many people, God is simply themselves with a deeper voice. Sadly, that’s true.

For Christians who hold conservative political positions, they somehow manage to come to the conclusion that God believes exactly what they do. What a relief. God wants a strong government to control people’s morality, but He also likes invading foreign countries that have those dirty people who talk funny and aren’t much like us. (He obviously didn’t really mean those things about loving enemies, so it’s safe to ignore those things as we cheer people being blown up and prisoners being tortured by the U.S. government.)

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The reaction to the George Zimmerman verdict has been frustrating. Zimmerman’s supporters sound as though their team just won the Super Bowl. His opponents sound as though the verdict means it’s now legal to shoot black teens. The truth is far more complex, but the truth doesn’t make either side especially happy.

Some people have lost sight of what a criminal trial is. It has nothing to do with broad social problems or “sending a message” or even what the law should be. A trial is about whether a specific defendant did a specific thing and whether his actions violated the law in specific ways.

In Zimmerman’s case, there wasn’t any disagreement about the basic facts. Zimmerman admits he shot Trayvon Martin, but he laid out a credible case for why he believed he was in danger. He said Martin attacked him and he fired to defend himself. The prosecution didn’t come up with any credible evidence to contradict that story. Honestly, it seemed as though the prosecution had no case. It seemed as though it was a political prosecution.

As I wrote Friday, I don’t think Zimmerman is a murderer, but I also don’t think he’s a hero. He and Martin each had chances to back away from this confrontation and they each made unwise decisions that left Martin dead. The only question is whether Zimmerman’s firing of the gun when he did was legal as self-defense. There was no other real issue in the case. It didn’t matter whether he should have ever been suspicious of Martin. It didn’t matter whether he should have followed Martin. It didn’t matter whether he should have been out of his car.

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