Article
Culture
General Election 24
Politics
4 min read

Ultra-processed politics fails to satisfy

No-hope manifestos, full of ugly policies, leave us craving something better.
Three piles of ready-meals sit on a shelf. One stack is blue, the next yellow and the third red.
Party food.
Nick Jones/Midjourney.ai

There are now less than two weeks to go before polling day, and the nation appears to have simultaneously reached the highest fever pitch of emotion and the absolute nadir of political scruple. The Tory campaign has been comically, awfully inept - announcements in the rain, D-Day, gambling fraud. The Labour campaign has been an odd blend of quasi-Confucian aphorisms (‘Stability is Change’…what is that!?) and a blank refusal to give much detail on any future plans and actions - almost offensive from a party that seems guaranteed to win a majority that would give it little resistance. The Lib Dem campaign has resembled a Centre Parks holiday, and I’m here for it!  

The recent Question Time of political leaders perfectly encapsulated the grim reality of this election campaign. The anger towards Rishi Sunak was palpable, and his pathological inability to not be defensive and snippy shone through. A total lack of any emotion was shown towards Kier Starmer (a void that again was filled with more anger towards Rishi Sunak), and his militantly practiced refusal to actually say anything of substance. Ed Davey was quite charming actually; but not enough to make the whole viewing process anything but depressing. 

Yet… 

This is our situation, and we must deal with it. This is OUR election, and WE MUST engage with it. Alastair Campbell - one half of the most listened to political podcast in the UK - regularly calls for compulsory voting. The ad campaign reminding people (especially young people) to register to vote has been incessant. Even the Archbishop of York has written an open letter in the Sunday Express encouraging everyone to register and to exercise their democratic duty. Why? What for? I find the entire cadre unappealing to the point of being odious. Reading the manifestos I was struck by two realisations: the space between so many of the policies was miniscule, and they were so bloody ‘ugly’.  

I don’t mean ugly like the loveless, jingoistic, cruel ramblings of Reform. The two main parties have produced manifestos that inspire no hope. They equate the fullness and completeness of the human social condition to the subtle movements of financial resources from one area to another. They are each proposing a almost identical economic foundation, with a few nods to the fact that ‘society’ and ‘human relations’ exist, like a Potemkin village designed to impress the visiting dignitary, ‘the voter’. Not only do they read like they were written by someone who cannot think five, maybe ten, years ahead; they read like they were written by someone who has a cold indifference to the transcendental concepts of ‘TRUTH’, ‘BEAUTY’, ‘GOOD’. The whole tenor of our political culture and conversation is the same three riffs on post-modern liberalism, played with dexterity and enthusiasm of a corpse. 

If you feel passionately about your community, and you know the issues, and you have a candidate you believe in, vote. If none of this applies, don’t worry, and don’t let anyone shame you. 

And yet I MUST vote? What for? Why must I be shamed into preforming the perfunctory routine of soul-destroying civic duty? Why must I be bullied into giving the correct sacrifice to the great and terrible God of ‘DEMOCRACY’ in the vain hope that this vicious, nihilistic titan of bureaucratic ineptitude might yet again bless the polis with five more years of alienation and sublimated resentment. 

The Christian message, the Gospel, is not antithetical to politics. The Gospel of Christ is about one’s whole life - body, spirit, soul, relationships, friends, family, enemies, strangers, work, play, sickness, death - and so it cannot be divorced from politics, because as people who live in a society we must encounter the ‘political’ every day. However, the Kingdom of God is a Kingdom and not a Republic. Jesus does not answer the devious questions of the Pharisees with a markedly uninformative screed on updating tax legislation, he says to ‘Render therefore unto Cæsar the things which are Cæsar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.’ He speaks to the people about radical charity, freedom from worry and stress about today, about a community of absolute loving relationship where everyone is a mother, and sister, and brother to everyone else.  

I am called - just like I believe all people, as beloved creatures who’s end is being united with God in all eternity - to keep my eyes on the horizon of the absolute, the beautiful and peaceful Kingdom of Christ which is not for this world. This does not mean apathy towards politics or even to the current election. It does, however, mean that I cannot and will not be persuaded that finding this pathetic display of ineptitude, silence, exaggeration, and unpleasant divisiveness which we call a campaign, anything other than a waste of my time and energy. If you feel passionately about your community, and you know the issues, and you have a candidate you believe in, vote. If none of this applies, don’t worry, and don’t let anyone shame you. The Kingdom of God will not be built by the winner of the General Election. It will be built by Christ working through the love and relationships that form a community of charity and service…and you can’t legislate for that. 

Article
Culture
Economics
Generosity
5 min read

Be generous: pass on values and vision, not just wealth

Millennials may not earn more—but they could steward more wisely
An illustration of a family around a table looking at graph on a laptop.
Nick Jones/Midjourney.ai.

For the first time in modern history, this present generation of 28 to 43-year-olds will not achieve a higher standard of living than their parents. This is due to factors including wage stagnation, exorbitant house prices, equally exorbitant student debt, and an unstable job market.  

Paradoxically, this same generation stands to inherit the greatest amount of wealth in history. The Financial Times estimates this to be about £8.3 trillion in the U.S., £2.7 trillion in Europe, and £2.2 trillion in Asia.  

For Christian families fortunate enough to find themselves in this situation, it’s important to consider that passing on wealth is not just a financial issue, it’s a discipleship issue. And before we delve in, I want to acknowledge that not every reader will fit the traditional family model. You might be single, part of a blended family, estranged from children, or mentoring younger people instead of raising them. The principles here still apply - ‘next generation’ simply means those you influence.  

Talk about it 

One of my soap boxes is to encourage people, especially Christians, in the UK to talk more about money and giving. This becomes especially important within families who steward a lot of wealth. If parents don’t speak to their children about their wealth – what they’re doing with it and why – they run the risk of their children 

  • feeling overwhelmed by the responsibility and potentially making poor choices,  

  • not understanding or valuing their parents' heart for good stewardship and potentially squandering the wealth, 

  • doing things their own way and potentially dishonouring their parents’ wishes, or 

  • feeling resentful that they did not inherit as much as they thought they would. 

Being intentional and speaking openly as a family about your wealth will give you as parents a chance to inculcate your children with conviction about and purpose for what God has blessed you, and them, with. And it will give your children the opportunity to share their own heart and views on how to use wealth for good, as these may differ from yours.  

There is a plethora of information out there, and plenty of professional advisors who would love to be called upon to manage your wealth transfer, but, if you are a person of Christian faith, let us challenge ourselves to look to Scripture as a first point of departure.  

David and Solomon  

King David looms large as a character in the Old Testament. One of his ambitions was to build a temple for the Lord in Jerusalem. But God explicitly told him that he didn’t want David to do the building; instead, this project was to be passed on to his son, Solomon. We know that David was a very wealthy man, and that the temple building project would require vast amounts of resources, and thus, perhaps we can consider this instance as one of the great wealth transfers of ancient times. 

There are many takeaways from this story, but here are a few that stand out to me.  

David’s desire to build a temple for the Lord comes after he’s built an extravagant palace for himself. This invites a question: how many of us might come to the end of our working lives and realise we’ve had similar priorities?  

While we don’t have a way of knowing how much Solomon’s own ideas were welcomed in the planning and preparation, I think we can assume that David spent a lot of time imparting his vision and motivation to Solomon. There’s no way this kind of philanthropic project could’ve been executed otherwise.  

While this transfer started well, it didn’t end well. Solomon went on to accumulate even more wealth than his father and ended his life in a downward spiral of excess and deception. I’m not saying there is a direct correlation between inheriting wealth and getting caught in a downward spiral, but there are many temptations and pitfalls to contend with. 

There’s something to be said for timing. While one of the scripture passages that relate this story makes it sound like the handover went smoothly, another paints a very different picture. In it we see an elderly king clinging to his position and refusing to pass his mantle to Solomon until a coup by another son forces his hand.  

What can we learn from this?  

If we want our children to use their inherited wealth wisely and generously, it’s vital that they witness their parents modelling the right priorities. If I’ve pursued the accumulation of wealth more than I’ve pursued generously sharing my resources, my children are more likely to do the same. 

If we intend to pass our legacy on to our children, we must involve them in the conversation early on. And we must be careful to allow room for their own ideas lest they grow disillusioned and disengage.  

We cannot control what our children do with the wealth we give them; we can only do our best to model the right attitude before God when it comes to our resources. The best way to do this is to teach our children that everything we have comes from God and is to be used for his purposes, not for our own material excess.  

Know when to pass on the mantle. If we hang on too long, we risk opening the door to unnecessary division and conflict within our family. It’s also worth considering transferring wealth earlier rather than later in order to be philanthropically active as a family. As in a relay race, the person being passed the baton must for a time be running at the same speed as his or her predecessor.  

The great generational transfer  

When the time comes to hand over our resources and our legacy to the next generation, there are many things to consider. We’re not just handing over our money; we’re handing over all of what we’ve learned and experienced in our walk with God. I would argue that this spiritual transfer is even more significant than any other kind. For that, we have many biblical examples we can turn to: Moses and Joshua, Elijah and Elisha, Paul and Timothy, and of course, Jesus and his Church.  

Jesus told his disciples to go and make disciples of all nations, akin to what God said to Adam and Eve way back in the beginning: Be fruitful, fill the earth and exercise good stewardship over it. Our mission has always been to steward the earth, see it flourish, and point people to a relationship with God. To do this, God has put resources into our hands to be stewarded well and faithfully passed on to the next generation. It’s imperative that we do this well if our message is to be taken seriously.  

What would it look like for your family, or the next generation you influence, to steward both resources and faith together?  

 

Stewardship UK sponsors series 8 of the Re-Enchanting podcast. Find out more.