It's tough to talk about politics.

It's tough to talk, even with friends, about politics. Wait, let me revise: it's tough to talk to liberal friends about politics.

On a dark night in 2003 something happened that changed the way I look at political discussions.

My friend and I were talking about the issues of the day: the Iraq war and terrorism. Also, we were talking about John Kerry's qualifications to be president of these United States. I don't recall the precise conversation. But I was trying to articulate my belief in a strong response to our enemies and that Bush was the guy.

As our conversation moved on, I said something (maybe about the war) that stung my friend. Angrily, he rose to his feet and said flatly, "Get out!" His finger pointed toward the door of his apartment, I thought he was joking (he's a funny guy, by the way). But I laughed and his anger flared and . . . he slapped me in the face.

Smack!

Thankfully, our standoff ended in his apology. Off we both went to Wafflehouse for a late night meal. He continually apologized and I still consider him my friend--and I think I ordered a Texas style omelette.

But my point is the explosiveness of political talk. Everyone always says something like the following: We can talk about anything--except politics and religion.

I see a parallel between politics and religion. They both focus on core beliefs. What you believe down in your heart. And our emotions are bound to get wrapped up in talking about what we believe because we could see an attack on our beliefs as an attack on who we are.

And yet, I think there's fear involved.

Personally, before I came back to Jesus I was afraid of a lot of things. Death. Life. Eternity. My parents. My actions. Mostly, the big questions. Also, prayer.

But this is wrong!

We should not be afraid to talk about the BIG things and to ask the BIG questions:

Why are we here?
Why do people die?
What is love?
What happens when we die?
Where'd life come from?
Why is there so much evil in the world?

I was afraid of these questions when I was living apart from Jesus and when I was a slave to sin. But now, I embrace these questions. I enjoy thinking about them. I want to talk about them.

As for my conversation with my friend that fateful night--it was off course altogether. If I see him again, I pray we'll be able to talk beyond politics and look at the true stuff of life: who we are and why we're here.