Change: we know we need it, but do we know what kind?

All the heavy-hitters this presidential campaign, especially the democratic ones, just love to talk about change. I read an article by Mark Steyn in the latest issue of National Review where he said that those who claim to desire change really want "a restoration of the quiet life." This is probably true. The reason that those who want change want this, though, is because the lives of most people are not very quiet: they may rumble quietly or feverishly toss, but whatever their condition, it likely isn't quiet and happy contentment. So many voters, bitterly dissatisfied with Bush, long for something new, something different, something progressive. Obama, Clinton, and Edwards like to point out the flaws in Bush's administration and promise better things in theirs, and politicians have been making the same promises since the days of--well, of politicians.

The point is that very few candidates, and only those in unique positions, would likely ever interview a talk show host and say, "I promise the American people to continue to preserve and promulgate for the next four or eight years the exact same policies that my predecessor pursued." When a presidential election comes around, the promise to make changes is simply expected.

It is unsurprising that just about everyone's nose begins to sniff the air excitedly with the word change comes into play. Deep down we all recognize that things are deeply wrong with life on this earth. We see a tide of illegal immigration, wars in the Middle East, horrific violence in Kenya and Somalia, unsettling rumblings in the Russian government, decreasing populations (thanks to our friends from the 1960s), Palestinian unrest, potential nuclear threats in Iran and North Korea, a failing health care system, and so on. Every single area of human enterprise is somehow flawed, and people are divided on almost every important issue, so when a candidate comes promising change, it's likely that at least half the population is going to get excited. It's innate in us to want something more, something better. Struggling with their lack of hope, those who do not have Christ eventually grow restive under any system, because it fails to satisfy. Those who do have faith in Christ have an unshakable hope, but that is not to say that we are satisfied with American politics, as they are anything but thoroughly Christian at the moment.

So everyone wants change. That's not new. But "change" is a word whose denotation is amoral. Connotationally, it appears to have come to mean something good, or at least "what voters want to hear." But, to use a simple analogy, let's suppose there is a vineyard somewhere that a man owns and maintains. His time of ownership comes to an end and I make a bid for the title, along with another chap. I and the second candidate both promise that dramatic changes will take place one this vineyard if we become the owners. If I removed bad grape plants and replaced them better ones, improved irrigation and upgraded the farm's technology, and found alternative means of pest control that didn't have any health hazards, I would be making good my promise. But if the second candidate burnt the whole place to ash and said, by jingo, he was going to grow date palms on this property, so would he. Change can either mean improvement or degeneration; starting with a mediocre policy, the imposition of good or bad policies is equally progressive.

I know it's been said before, but voters must determine what kind of change is being offered by these candidates. If it's change to a more intrusive and controlling government that, taking historical precedent and the nature of man into consideration, we really want, all right. I won't like the choice, but America will have made it honestly (and should face the consequences just as honestly if things go wrong).

When someone promises to change something, our first reaction should not be to welcome the news, but to ask what is going to change, and how.