Salvation doesn’t hang in the balance of a voting booth.
Elections aren’t going to save the world. The banners, the buttons, the endless debates; it’s all smoke and mirrors. We’ve watched people twist their guts into knots over election cycles as if the right ballot could somehow pave the way to the pearly gates. Here’s the truth: salvation doesn’t hang in the balance of a voting booth, and heaven isn’t swayed by the results of the latest poll. If we’re putting our faith in the outcome of an election, we’ve already missed the point.
Let’s get one thing straight: Christians are already elected. Not by some party or politician, but by Christ himself. We don’t have to campaign for it, don’t have to make promises we can’t keep, and we don’t have to compromise our soul for a seat at the table. In the grand scheme of things, all those worldly elections are just noise compared to the one that truly matters—the election of grace through faith in Jesus Christ.
That’s the Christian condition. We’ve been called and elected not by popularity or party affiliation, but by the blood of Christ. That’s where our security lies, not in who gets the keys to the Oval Office or Parliament.
But somehow, we get it twisted. We think that if we can just get the right man—or woman—into power, we’ll turn the tide of history. But that’s like trying to cure cancer with a Band-Aid. Sure, maybe you or I will get a few policies that align with our values. But will those policies fix the brokenness of the world? Will they mend the wound that runs through every soul since Adam? Not a chance. Even King David, Israel’s golden boy, couldn’t legislate his way out of his own moral collapse. His kingdom fell apart because at the end of the day, sin runs deeper than politics.
There’s a Russian proverb that says, “The church is near, but the road is icy; the bar is far, but I will walk carefully.” It’s a parable of priorities. We choose our paths based on where we think salvation lies. And for too many of us, the road we choose is paved with slogans, political promises, and the belief that if we just vote right, things will change. We put our faith in candidates, in systems, in men and women who, despite their best intentions, are as sinfully self-interested as the rest of us.
Indigenous folklore has its own version of this misplaced trust. There’s the story of the trickster, often a coyote, who convinces the people he can bring them what they need—water, food, safety. He makes promises, spins tales, and the people, desperate and hopeful, believe him. But the trickster never delivers. He’s a master of deception, and by the time they realize it, they’re worse off than when they started. Sound familiar?
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying elections don’t matter at all. There’s a time and place to vote for justice, to stand against evil, to support laws that protect the weak and uplift the oppressed. But let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that our votes can elect us into heaven, or save us from hell. That’s not how this works.
There’s a reason Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world.” He knew the score. The kingdoms we build here, whether they lean left or right, whether they’re democratic or authoritarian, are all temporary, all fragile. The Roman Empire fell, the Soviet Union collapsed, and one day, every government we know today will crumble to dust. But the election that counts? That’s eternal because, as we confess with saints and angels, “Jesus Is Risen!”
It’s not about where you drop your ballot—it’s about where you place your faith. Are you trusting in the kings of this earth, or in the King of Kings? It’s easy to get caught up in the frenzy, to think that the next election will be the turning point. But here’s the thing: there’s always another election. There’s always another promise, another platform, another politician. And the cycle continues, distracting us from the real question: where is our hope?
Christians are marked—not for four more years, but for eternity with Christ. We don’t need to jockey for position or worry about the shifting tides of political power. We’re already part of a kingdom that will never fade, one that can’t be shaken by the latest headline.
So, the next time you’re tempted to pin your hopes on a candidate or believe that the next election will be the one that finally sets everything right, remember this: you’re already elected. Elected by grace, by a power far greater than any government, to a purpose far higher than any political office.
And if you want to make a real difference? Stop waiting for politicians to fix things and start living in faith, trusting that Christ never rests from making the impossible nothing, repenting us, forgiving us, gracing us, and protecting and defending us until he comes to shepherd us into Paradise. That’s where real change happens—not in the halls of power, but in the hearts of the elected, the called, the chosen that have been elected and gifted with saving faith in Christ Jesus.
