A Challenge to the Church in an Election Year
Church, I need to talk to you. And I need you to actually hear me this time — because we are walking into a season that has a way of exposing what we really trust.
It's an election year in Michigan.
Gretchen Whitmer's time is up — she's term-limited, the seat is open — and come November 3rd it's Jocelyn Benson and John James on the ballot for governor. We are one of the most evenly split states in the whole country. In 2024 we handed the presidency to Donald Trump by barely more than a point, and in the very same breath we sent a Democrat to the U.S. Senate. That's Michigan. Divided right down the middle, house by house, pew by pew.
And if you've turned on a television, picked up your phone, or sat in the wrong conversation at a family cookout, you already know the temperature. It's contempt. It's fear. It's us-against-them, and everybody is dead certain the other side is the end of the world.
Let me say something that might sting a little.
For a lot of us, this feels like Babylon.
A place we didn't choose. A culture that doesn't share our God or our values. A season where it feels like we've been carried off into hostile territory, and we're just trying to survive until the walls come down. If that's where your heart is right now, then the word God spoke over His people in Babylon is the word you need to hear.
Here's the first thing, and I want it to land hard.
Whoever wins in November, God is not up in heaven nervously refreshing the results. Daniel — a man of God living in the middle of a pagan empire that had conquered his homeland — looked at all that political power and said this about God:
“He controls the course of world events; he removes kings and sets up other kings.” — Daniel 2:21 (NLT)
Read that slow. He removes them. He sets them up. Kings and governors and secretaries of state rise and fall inside a plan bigger than any of them, and not one of them takes the throne without passing through the hands of God. Babylon captured Daniel — but Babylon never captured God.
So let me ask you plainly: why are you living like the God of heaven is on the ballot? He isn't. And the Psalmist already warned us where that kind of hope leads:
“Don't put your confidence in powerful people; there is no help for you there.” — Psalm 146:3 (NLT)
Not in the one you're voting for. Not in the one you're terrified of. There is no help for you there. There never was.
Now here's where I have to get honest, because this is the part the church keeps missing.
Babylon doesn't just hold you. Babylon wants to shape you. It wants to hand you its fear, its rage, its contempt, and turn you into a person who looks and sounds exactly like the empire you claim you're not part of.
And a lot of us have taken the bait. We're being discipled — but not by Jesus. We're being formed by cable news and comment sections and campaign ads. We can quote the outrage of the day but we can't remember the last time we wept over a lost neighbor. We've got more passion for a political party than for the Kingdom of God, and we don't even flinch anymore.
Let me say it as plainly as I know how:
The person on the other side of that ballot is not your enemy. They are your mission field. The moment the church starts treating people like the enemy, we have already handed Babylon the victory — because we've become its image instead of His.
Watch what God told His people to do in Babylon. He didn't tell them to hide in a bunker and wait it out. He didn't tell them to burn the city down. He told them to live, and to bless the very place that held them:
“Build homes, and plan to stay.” — Jeremiah 29:5 (NLT)
“Work for the peace and prosperity of the city where I sent you.” — Jeremiah 29:7 (NLT)
Where I sent you. God takes ownership of the address. He didn't accidentally drop you in Michigan in 2026. He sent you here, on purpose, for this exact moment — not to withdraw from it and not to go to war in the flesh over it, but to seek its good. To be salt. To be light. To build.
And here is the part that will test you. Seeking the welfare of the city means praying for the people in charge — including the ones you didn't vote for:
Pray this way for kings and all who are in authority. — 1 Timothy 2:2 (NLT)
All of them. Not just your candidate. Can you honestly pray a blessing over the person you're hoping loses on November 3rd? Because Scripture doesn't give you an exemption. The church that only prays for the leaders it likes has stopped praying like the church and started praying like a party.
Let me tell you where I'll be watching your faith. Not on election night. The morning after.
Three young men once stood in front of a king who could kill them, and they said their God was able to save them — and then they said the words that separate real faith from a bargain:
“But even if he doesn't… we will never serve your gods.” — Daniel 3:18 (NLT)
Even if He doesn't.
That's the test, church. If your candidate wins, will you praise God? Easy. But if you wake up on November 4th and your side lost — will you still worship? Will you still trust that God controls the course of world events? Or will your faith fold up because an election didn't go your way?
Because if your worship depends on who's in the governor's mansion, then it was never really worship. It was politics wearing a Sunday coat.
Here's the last thing, and I need you to carry it into the voting booth and out the other side.
Every Babylon falls. Every empire, every administration, every party that ever swaggered like it would last forever — comes down. God set a limit on the original Babylon: seventy years, and then home. And into that captivity He spoke a promise you already know:
“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the LORD. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” — Jeremiah 29:11 (NLT)
That was spoken to captives, in exile, in Babylon. It is not a promise that your side wins in November. It's a promise that God's plan for His people outlasts every election Michigan will ever hold.
So vote. Vote your conscience, vote informed, vote in the fear of the Lord. But do not put your soul on that ballot. You already have a King, and He was not elected — and He will not be un-elected.
“But we are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives.” — Philippians 3:20 (NLT)
Don't just nod. Let the Holy Spirit press on the honest places before this season gets any louder:
● Have you put a hope in a candidate that belongs only to God? Name it. Repent of it.
● Is Babylon discipling you — your fear, your anger, your contempt — more than Jesus is?
● Can you pray a genuine blessing over the leader you're hoping loses? If not, why not?
● If your side loses on November 3rd, will you still worship on the 4th? Be honest.
● Where has God sent you to build, to bless, and to seek the welfare of this state — right where you already are?
A prayer for the church in Michigan:
Father, You control the course of world events. You raise up and You remove — and no election takes You by surprise. Forgive us for the times we've trusted powerful people more than we've trusted You. Pull the fear and the contempt out of us. Teach us to bless the very people we're tempted to call enemies, to seek the good of the state where You've sent us, and to say “even if You don't” and mean it. Whatever November holds, we will worship You. You are our King, and You always will be. In Jesus' name, amen.
Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation (NLT).