The weeks leading up to the 2020 presidential election were a whirlwind of anxiety-inducing buzzing. For me, it was like being caught in a violent tide comprised of fiery opinions, awful words, and dug-in heels.  And six days after the polls closed, we're still catching our breath from results that took four days to receive and are bound to be contested and drawn out even further. It makes the soul uneasy. It makes me want to throw in the towel and declare a day off from life. Maybe I'll just sleep! Where is our rest? How do we even process all this?

Processing, for me, looks like pondering. I'm often off in my head, considering something or another. It used to drive Wife mad, watching me smolder and gaze into the distance for what seemed like hours at a time, not saying a word. I would get lost, and it wasn't healthy, so I set up a time just to think. It's one of the most extraordinary things I've done for my mental health.

I started today's sanctioned wandering beset by the ugliness I was hearing and seeing surrounding the election. Before heading into my quiet time, I saw passionate, aggressive, angry things all over social media; worst of all were the ones buttressed by Christian precepts, which got me thinking. I wondered where, in all the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, people found space to be so venomous with the Word of God…until it hit me. That's what happens when you give someone a sword.

Several years ago, I delivered a sermon—or rather a discussion, as I don't fancy myself much of a preacher—on the Armor of God, which took an in-depth look at the topic's representation and psychology. I like to think it was eye-opening, mostly because to discuss such things, you first have to (pardon the pun) arm yourself with knowledge about the issues. I learned a lot while I studied. When I finally delivered the talk, it took six weeks to complete -- one weekly discussion devoted to each piece of Armor. Though I try to frame my sermons as discussion, there's rarely verbal dialogue during the actual delivery. The week of the Sword of the Spirit was quite different, however.

I likened the Christian to a soldier, as did Paul when he offered the analogy of armor and armament in his letter to the Ephesians, but I had our congregation consider a modern soldier. We discussed how our armed services teach the modern soldier that the weapon, the rifle, is an extension of themselves in more than a physical sense. The soldier is not even trusted with live ammunition until they undergo countless hours of supervised training. They must study how the device works and learn proper tuning, cleaning, storage, and handling. I explained that each soldier becomes a master of their weapon before they’re ever allowed to use it. Then I likened the soldier's weapon to the Word of God.

While the Word of God is very versatile and can be used to help, heal, and encourage, far too many of the loudest Christians use the Word as a weapon. Paul reminds us in Hebrews that the Word of God is sharp as a two-edged sword, specifically when used as a weapon. The use of the Word as a weapon should not be taken lightly. Like a rifle or a sword, the Word is a tool with many uses, but it will cause more damage than good if not respected. The design of a sword has one purpose: to cut. You're not healing, teaching, comforting, encouraging, or loving with a sword. I'm not to saying the Word of God is only a sword. Rather, our use of the Word denotes our intent. If we openly decide to use the Word as a sword, we've decided to cut, often without asking ourselves if cutting will help or hurt the situation.

If your child isn't acting in a manner befitting a productive member of society, what positive outcome might come of poking them with a sword? If someone has a different view on sexuality, marriage, or the value of life, what good can come from raising your weapon to smite them? When you chose to use the Word of God as a weapon in those situations, you are disrespecting the Word, and disrespecting God. Many of us are quick to pull out the sword in everyday situations: while sharing a meal, or watching TV, or reading Facebook.

After this long, arduous election cycle, I look to the world and see a people divided across invisible lines and willing to strike out at each other with the most powerful tool they can find. It does a disservice to our beliefs, a disservice to ourselves, and a disservice to our God. Most dishearteningly, it showcases that the people using the Bible as a sword were either never trained, have forgotten their training, or are willingly casting it aside in favor of tearing asunder instead of healing. It's our responsibility to train ourselves with the Word before we use it in any way. Especially in times of heightened passions, we need remember the tool's purpose is an extension of us, and should be used to enact our call from God: to teach, build, and spread God’s love.

We have a long way to go as a people and a country. This election represented a lot of things though none of it was sure, save one. This moment is sensitive, and carelessly swinging a sword will not help. We must all take special care to remember our training, and remember that God would never want his word to be used as a weapon against his people.