Message.

Next Thursday is an important day in the life of our country, as we’ll vote in Senedd elections for the first time in five years. One of the parties standing (I won’t say which one!) has said that these are the most important elections in 27 years and that Wales “stands at a crossroads”. Although the opinion polls have been predicting a neck-and-neck race between Plaid Cymru and Reform, no-one (except God) actually knows what will happen as an increase in the size of the Senedd, the new super-constituencies, a different way of counting votes, and the probability of so-called “tactical voting” all make the result impossible to foretell – we’ll have to wait till Friday to find out.

Although the media and the politicians have been breathlessly excited by this election, I suspect that the public in general are less engaged. Turnout in Senedd elections has never reached half of the people who are eligible to vote; although the 2021 election had the best turnout since the Senedd was established, it was still only 47%. Even the all-important devolution referendum of 1997 only just scraped over 50%. Does this mean that people think that their democratic vote achieves nothing, or that they lack confidence in politicians, evidenced by their words “Well, they’re all the same really, only in it for themselves”? I don’t know – and perhaps people are thinking differently about this week’s election, which offers the prospect of a power shift in Cardiff Bay.

Of course elections weren’t a feature of life in first-century Palestine; we don’t read of Jesus queueing up at a polling booth in order to put a cross against the name of his desired candidate or party! We know that Judaea was under the control of Rome who ruled through the Sanhedrin, the supreme religious council composed of chief priests, elders, and scribes (although not all the priests were sympathetic to Rome). Of course there was a king, the cruel, corrupt and hated Herod, ostensibly independent but in fact a pawn of Rome who had his own pawns installed in the Jewish hierarchy. There was also, as we know, the directly-appointed Roman Governor who at the time of Jesus’ death was Pontius Pilate. This was hardly a democracy; as far as I can see, the only way to effect regime change was by revolution.

So the New Testament doesn’t say anything about political elections – although we must never forget that the exploits of Jesus, Paul, Peter and the early Church all took place in, and were shaped by, their political contexts; that’s of course true for the Old Testament as well. We perhaps see this most clearly in Joseph and Mary’s journey to Bethlehem for the census, in Jesus’ Palm Sunday entry to Jerusalem, in the persecution against Christians which flared up after Stephen’s martyrdom, and in Paul’s appeals to Roman law. Faith never occurs in a vacuum; sometimes it embraces politics too gladly, sometimes it seeks to cut itself off from such concerns which it regards as worldly and grubby, sometimes it seeks to bring about radical change, as in the time of the English Commonwealth in the 1600s or through the Victorian-era “nonconformist conscience”. The Church isn’t a political institution; but its members are always members of both an earthly and a heavenly kingdom.

Nevertheless we can look to the Bible for guidelines about making choices, as it does contain some stories which may help us. The first is the story of the person who was needed to replace Judas in the group of apostles. It doesn’t look as if Jesus foresaw this problem; he certainly doesn’t seem to have left the disciples with any instructions about resolving it. So the hundred-or-so believers were left scratching their heads until Peter galvanised them into action. And he had a cunning plan: that they should all put their heads together and draw up a shortlist of two men. These couldn’t be “just anyone”, there were criteria for their choices: both candidates had to be people who had accompanied Jesus from the very start of his ministry. Everyone would then cast lots to see who would take the vacant place.

To us this process seems to have mixed commonsense with pure chance. On the one hand, the qualifications required by the candidates seems  very sensible: of course they needed to be disciples who had known Jesus well and who were respected by the whole group. On the other hand, the idea that pulling a name out of a hat should decide the result seems positively superstitious, even though the action was to be preceded by prayer for God’s will to be done.

What we must realise is that casting lots was quite a respectable way of going about things in Biblical times: for instance, Proverbs 16:33 strongly suggests that the ancient Hebrews believed that its outcomes were governed by God for it says, “The lot is cast into the lap, but the decision is the Lord’s alone”. One point which has sometimes been made is that this “election” (if we can call it that) of Matthias took place before Pentecost. After that day the Christians had a radically new understanding of the Holy Spirit and his guidance, which may simply have made the practice of lot-casting obsolete. Nevertheless it’s clear that the first group of disciples were serious in trying to find the best man for the job, and serious about making a decision which aligned with God’s will for his Church and its mission.

We come to another “choosing” story a bit later on, in Acts 6. Here we find a church in which some people – Jewish widows from a Greek background – were falling through the net of pastoral care. Those ladies could have caused a major problem if they’d begun to accuse the church leaders of neglecting them because of their racial background or gender. The root of the problem was that the church was struggling to cope with its rapid growth: its structures were inadequate and the apostles were being swamped by the demands being made on them. Clearly something had to be done quickly, if the whole church was not to fall apart. So the apostles decided to set up a group of seven men who would take on certain practical duties – very sensible!

However the apostles did not act by themselves. In fact they wisely asked that the seven men be chosen by the members; they knew that this would confer legitimacy upon them and prevent any accusations of discrimination. And those church members do seem to have been sensible, as the names of the seven men finally selected suggest that they were all Greek-speaking Jews, men who would be able to relate easily to those widows who felt ignored, and uphold their cause.

What we must notice is that these men were chosen on the basis of their spiritual qualifications as much as for their practical abilities. This suggests that the early Church thought of even mundane tasks as spiritual, with divine discernment being regarded as a necessity for their work. Now it’s true that these men’s duties may well have been more than simply the relief of the poor, but there may still be a lesson for churches today when they come to choose not just Deacons but also people who are going to carry out the practical jobs that always arise. Are we selecting them simply because of their natural aptitudes or are we also considering their spiritual depth? If they are to see their role, however humble, as an important part of the church’s mission, then these intangible criteria must not be ignored.

My final story comes from one of Paul’s letters to Timothy. What I want us to notice here are the criteria for church leaders, who should be “above reproach, temperate, sensible, respectable, hospitable, not drunkards, not violent but gentle, not quarrelsome, and not lovers of money”. They must be mature people whose aren’t motivated by ambition, and they must be well thought of by outsiders. In his remarks, Paul seems to be echoing the criteria which Moses had given for choosing leaders in Israel, 1500 years before, who were to be “wise, discerning, and reputable”, impartial and wise judges and administrators. The qualities of good leaders don’t change.

Of course we’re not choosing church leaders on Thursday; in fact the new voting system means that we’ll basically be voting for political parties rather than individuals. That’s a huge change which you may or may not think is positive; it does, I think, take away the dilemma of deciding whether to vote for a good candidate from a party you despise or a poor candidate from a party you favour. In any case, the media have told us quite a lot about the candidates standing for election; we must decide if one party’s contenders are of a better (or worse) calibre than another’s and if they will do a better (or inferior) job if elected. I think the Bible stories I’ve mentioned do help us consider that.

At the end of the day, though, we need to think of issues rather than individuals; this actually means being unselfish – surely a Christian virtue – and think in terms of “if party X gets in, how will than benefit Wales?” rather than “if party Y gets in, how will it benefit me?”. Cytûn, the body that represents churches across Wales, has said this: “The differences between the parties are real and significant: on health funding, on taxation, on the Welsh language, on housing, on the environment, and above all on the values Wales should express in how it treats its most vulnerable residents and those seeking sanctuary on its shores. These are not merely political questions. They are moral and theological ones. How Wales cares for the sick, the poor, the child, the stranger, and the elderly is a matter of Christian witness as much as electoral choice. Cytûn trusts that the churches will bring that perspective to bear: in prayer, in conversation, and in the ballot box”.

This sounds absolutely right to me, and it’s very much based on the well-established Catholic teaching known as “the Common Good”. I haven’t got time to go into details, but this speaks of “the shared life of a society in which everyone can flourish”. It also speaks of “working together across our differences, with each of us taking responsibility, according to our calling and ability”. The Common Good “is inspired by the Gospel and holds the human person at its heart, challenging forces that dehumanise; it is built by people working together with others of different opinions and backgrounds, and may require hard negotiation across estranged interests”. Furthermore “it tells a story that goes beyond ‘me’ – yet everyone is affirmed and every individual is allowed to play their part freely and fulfil their purpose. We are each called by God to overcome the dominance of the self, to value our fellow human beings and build a common life”. In a society which is so sadly divided, in a society where the wealthy and powerful grab all the privileges they can get while pushing the weak to the wall, this is surely a picture of society – of Wales- that Christians can sign up to.

There are six major political parties vying for our votes on Thursday. You may feel that some have little new to say, that some are offering an impossible dream, that others are preying on our fears, that some are more or less committed to truth and integrity. I cannot, I must not, tell you where to put your little cross as you stand, pondering, in the polling booth. But I can say this: as you cast your vote (and please do), think about your Christian principles, think of the sort of Government that may help Wales and its people to flourish, and pray that you may make a good decision.