Editor’s note: As Joel Belz recovers from a broken hip, we’re republishing this column, which originally appeared on Dec. 20, 1997.

Heading toward Christmas, there’s no better time to remind ourselves there are two crucial parts to this thing we call a Biblical worldview: the talking part and the doing part.

Editor’s note: Joel Belz recently broke his hip and is recovering. In place of his usual column, we’re publishing this column, originally published on Feb. 1, 1988, written as a letter to a family friend born on Jan. 22 that year.

Since you had such a busy and traumatic day last week, you may not have a chance to read this for some time. I’ll understand but still hope you get around to it later.

Jan. 22 was a notable day for you, since it was at 10:16 p.m. that you gasped your lungs full of the first air they’d ever felt.

For a decade and more, I’ve been wrestling with some ideas that could reshape the way Christian school and homeschool students engage in what we’ve typically called “social studies.” 

At least, we used to call it social studies. It had its moments, but it wasn’t usually the high point of the day. We typically didn’t allow the use of the word boring at our house. But if we had, social studies would have been an apt target. 

By my latest calculation, the roughly half-million people who make up WORLD’s readers and listeners each week are likely to divide their votes next month among three different groupings:

Those who hope to elect Donald Trump—Something well over 50 percent. Half will be enthusiastic about their choice, and others will cast their ballots under duress.

Those who favor Joe Biden—If it’s over 25 percent, almost everyone will be surprised. Only a handful will be excited about that choice.

I finally found some “common ground.” Not quite what I was looking for, but as best I can tell, it’s an issue where Republicans and Democrats seem to have virtual agreement. 

They’ll do that by simply remaining silent.

The topic is debt retirement. I may repeat myself—but it’s important to our families and businesses; our churches and schools; our city, state, and national economies; and to the world.

Of all the criticisms President Trump has to live with, you don’t often hear him called a cowardly middle-of-the-roader. You may not like his position on any particular issue, but you probably know what he thinks.

Immigration? The Washington “swamp”? Free trade with China? Prisoners of war like the late John McCain? No hugging the stripe at the center of the road. You know what your president thinks. Or at least what, on the record, he says he thinks!

Calling someone a “single-issue voter” may be accurate—but not the fastest way to win that person as a lifelong friend.

I know that to be the case based on experience. When someone says I’m a “single-­issue thinker,” I hear them calling me shallow, superficial, simplistic, and probably at least a little bit lazy.