What if God held the citizens accountable for the unjust policies of their government? Even more, what if the citizens of the United States faced God’s judgment because the leaders they elected failed to protect the rights of the innocent and helpless? What if God refused to hear their prayers because they refused to choose leaders who would uphold the most basic transcendent standards of justice?
Sobering thoughts indeed. In this provocative work, Ken Connor and John Revell dare to suggest that there is national culpability for the civil sins of their leaders, and that God views citizens’ failure to address these issues as sinful silence.
Connor and Revell raise these prospects in Sinful Silence, presenting biblical principles regarding the heart of God towards the issue of civic involvement. By examining the writings of the prophet Isaiah, they make a compelling case for believers to live up to their political responsibilities and to reflect God’s priorities regarding the participation in the civil process.”
Presented in a politically unbiased way, Connor and Revell make a strong and compelling case that breathes new life into the call for Christians to be active within our culture. They encourage believers to be salt and light within our communities and make a profound impact on our great nation.
Second Edition: Revised and Updated
The shades on the two east windows were open, and beams of morning sunlight flooded the Executive Office—yet his mood was dark. An overstuffed chair held his weary body while a handcrafted desk of Philippine mahogany supported his arms and heavy head. Matching mahogany paneling surrounded the room, covering the lower half of the walls and reaching down to a floor blanketed with deep pile carpet. The drapes adorning each of the three windows cost the state more than its average employee’s annual salary. Portraits of past statesmen who had gone on to serve inside the nation’s Beltway rested against heavily flocked wallpaper, keeping silent and sympathetic sentry over an office where power and money were brokered daily.
These types of surroundings have fed the dreams of most young, aspiring politicians. Indeed, many have fantasized about sitting in this very office, in this very chair, at this very desk. However, the rocky road to his office was littered with the broken lives and battered families of those who faltered on their dream-driven quest to become governor of this great state. Few, if any of them, recognized that after reaching the office, a mere thread separated the dream from a nightmare. This morning that thread had broken once again, and the Honorable Peter James (P.J.) Bates was fighting to survive yet another nightmare.
Throwing his head and weight back into the chair, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling, focusing on nothing in particular. “Is it possible? How could it be? How could it happen again?” he asked the empty room. According to the morning edition of the Tribune, which lay on the desk before him, another of his executive level appointees had been indicted.
The person and position were different, but the horror had become all too familiar. This time it was John Billings, the Secretary of Housing, and the charge was racketeering. Nancy Jenkins, the senior investigative reporter for the capital’s daily paper, reported on evidence that Billings had been funneling state-funded, low-income housing contracts to his old construction company through a minority-controlled shell corporation.
“How could Billings have come this far and still be so stupid? There are ways to walk in ‘gray’ areas safely. If he hasn’t learned that by now, he deserves what he gets. But why should I have to suffer for his ineptness? Why should my reelection be jeopardized by some fool who didn’t listen to his dime-store attorney?”