Resistor

Somewhere in the dark recesses of my memory is a bin filled with unused formulas from my high school science classes. Among them is this one:

R = V/I

The internet tells me that this is Ohm’s Law, which describes the function of resistors in an electronic circuit. Resistance (in Ohms) equals voltage (volts) divided by current (amps). It bears the name of Georg Ohm, an early pioneer in electricity who did his most important work in 1825 and 1826. Two hundred years later, his discoveries are embedded in every corner of the modern world.

I should stop there, before I get too far out of my league. The historians and scientists among us can say much more about Ohm’s Law, and say it with more authority. But I’m nerd enough to get the basics. Electrons journey along a conductor, Resistors impede the flow.

That may not sound like an exciting task, but resistors are the unsung heroes of electrical engineering. If you want to create a difference in potential along a circuit in order to help current flow, they act as the traffic cop to keep things moving along. If you need to lower the amount of current so that you don’t melt a switch or blow out a bulb, they create something of a dam, blocking electrons so that only a controlled amount gets through.

Resistors keep power in check. Without them, we couldn’t adjust the volume or dim the lights. Our electronics would be binary—on or off—and we would have to live with the either-or nature of that switch. Resistors serve as invisible sentinels against what could otherwise be destructive amounts of current. They get in the way because, well, something needs to.

I can relate—metaphorically speaking. If I had a superhero name, it would probably be Resistor. I doubt the series would make it past the pilot, but—

Anyhow.

I am a resistor by nature, suspicious enough of power to constantly stand in its way. While I understand that some situations call for quick, decisive action, I am more inclined to say, “Not so fast!” I can’t help but probe leaders and their decisions for anything that might be false or misleading or unwise. I ask questions. I call for more equitable processes. I speak forcefully, whether in earnest or ridicule or hyperbole, begging people to do something more than just go along to get along.

Like all callings, mine comes with a price. When I was much younger and just finding my voice, my supervisor called me aside to complain about an article I’d written that had upset our bishop. “I guess you have free speech and all,” he told me. “But if you keep writing things like this, you’ll be off every committee and out of every leadership position you have in the Annual Conference.”

I kept on writing. The bishop kept his word. So goes the battle.

I understand why few people want to be resistors. The losses—money, influence, promotions, friends—can add up. The defeats come more often than the victories. The frustrations pile on. The conflicts with more powerful people grind against you over time.

Believe me, I get it.

But would the superhero Resistor bow to pressure, leaving his calling unfulfilled simply because of its difficulty? Of course not! Heroes don’t give in when the monster eats the reactor and quadruples in size. They tighten the straps and do their damn duty. And when the credits roll, they are not only victorious. They are primed for a sequel.

it’s tempting to think of myself this way. I am the lone warrior against an unstoppable beast, but I won’t back down. The greater the struggle, the greater the victory. The worse the odds, the sweeter the triumph. You know a hero’s worth by the dragons slain.

But that’s a false narrative. It’s not the truth—not even close. As much as I might want to elevate my own story, I’m just a guy. I usually cast a minority vote, and I’m often the bearer of unpopular opinions. Occasionally, I get dinged up for what I write or say. But none of that makes me special. It just makes me normal.

At least, it should. The call to resist for the sake of a better world is a mandate, not just for a few prophetic souls, but for all who want to actually follow Jesus. We are all Resistors.

Lest anyone accuse me of projecting my own calling onto all people, let me refer you to the baptismal vows in my own tradition (Methodist). The second question asked of a person who presents himself or herself for baptism reads like this:

Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?

It’s a simple yes-or-no question, with huge implications.

On one hand, resisting such nebulous things seems too big to even fathom. Engage an evil like racism? Work for common-sense gun laws in an effort to curb mass shootings? Reconsider the role of business and government alike in helping people out of poverty? We know any of one of these could lead us down roads we are not prepared to go, into places not charted by yard signs or social media posts. The efforts could consume us, and there’s no guarantee that anything will change in our lifetimes.

On the other hand, however, is the final clause—in whatever form they present themselves. In some ways, the implications here are even worse, because they can get personal. Resisting evil, injustice, and oppression might mean standing up for a coworker who is being mistreated, or refusing to stoop to the level of a bully, or engaging in a tense conversation with someone we care about. If we look at our world through honest eyes, we see plenty wrong with the currents of power, and therefore plenty of opportunities to get in the way.

The gospels don’t suggest we do so. They mandate it.

This is part of the reason the Christians have, in certain eras, had an incredible impact on the world around them, relative to their low numbers and lack of institutional power. They have gotten in the way—often with their very lives—in order to protect those down-current from the power source. Even the most atrocious eras of human history have seen faithful people acting in resistance to evil, injustice, and oppression—just like they vowed to do.

Thankfully, my life is not so dramatic as my imaginary Resistor alter-ego. Rather, it is small and hidden and easily dismissed. My little struggles don’t look like much, in the grand scheme of things. I almost never win, in the way most people would define victory.

Still, I made a promise. “To resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever form they present themselves.” That is, in my mind, a significant piece of what it means to follow Jesus. I don’t get to choose the form that evil or injustice or oppression take. I only get to respond.

And so I impede. I call things into question. I get in the way.

Just as we are all called to do.