What’s So Funny About Peace, Love, and Understanding?

Jul 11

That’s the title of one of my favorite songs. It’s a question that lingers like a challenge—one that seems more pressing today than ever before.

Though the song wasn’t written in response to our modern political climate, the words still feel prophetic. In America today, many of us are quick to form strong opinions—about everything. And worse, we’re quick to form strong opinions about each other. Politics have become so polarizing that friendships, families, and entire communities are being torn apart over issues that often have very little effect on our actual day-to-day lives.

There’s been a surge of division in our culture, and it doesn’t seem to be slowing down.

I live in the South—specifically Alabama—a deep red state. Around here, if you’re a Democrat, you might get some suspicious glances, or worse, be accused of trying to destroy America. A few years ago, I traveled to Palm Springs, California, and found the opposite extreme. There were stores selling toilet paper with Donald Trump’s face on it. I remember thinking, Man, it must be tough to be a Republican here.

It struck me: in both places, people weren’t just disagreeing—they were demonizing each other.

So I have to ask:

Why are we allowing these divisions to define us?

Why can’t we listen to one another with empathy and understanding?

Here’s a thought: most anger is actually fear in disguise. It wears a mask of righteous indignation, but deep down it’s fear—raw, unprocessed, and often unacknowledged.

Think about it:

If you’re a conservative with children, maybe your fear is that society is slipping away—that your kids will grow up in a world that doesn’t reflect the values you hold dear.
If you’re a liberal with children, maybe your fear is that outdated systems will continue to hold your kids back—that their future will be stifled by man-made laws and power structures.

Here’s the twist: the fear is the same. You’re both afraid for your children. You’re both trying to protect what matters most. And yet, we attack each other instead of sitting down and recognizing that we share more than we think.

If you’re a Christian, this is especially important. We should not panic about society. The church has survived—and even thrived—in morally broken cultures before. It grew during the Roman Empire while Christians were being thrown to lions. But it didn’t grow through political domination or by forcing morality on others. It grew through sacrificial love.

It grew because the early church buried the dead no one else would bury.

It grew because Christians cared for the poor, the sick, and the outcast—even when it cost them everything.

It grew not through power, but through love.

If we claim to be Christians, then this is the message we must return to. We believe people change not by force or fear, but through grace. Christ didn’t come as a tyrant king. He came as a servant. He didn’t conquer by violence, but by laying down His life. That’s the heart of the gospel.