It’s officially Election Day, November 5. I woke up at 3am and could not go back to sleep. I fear doing this but feel compelled to do so. I will post this and will not check this post again on election day. Thanks to David W. Swanson for giving me some of the words I am feeling and for the courage to say them. I have borrowed some of his language but do not claim to fully represent his views. He only got me half way there. So, here’s where I stand, plain and unvarnished.
I believe Donald Trump is toxic and will do damage to our democracy and bring harm to some of our most vulnerable neighbors. I cannot in good conscience vote for him.
Also, people I love will vote for him. I understand some of the reasons they are. I’ll still love them.
I believe Kamala Harris is misguided in some of the most essential elements of our humanity and design for human flourishing. I believe this will do harm to the unborn and to our social fabric. I cannot in good conscience vote for her.
Also, people I love will vote for her. I understand some of the reasons they are. I’ll still love them.
(As much as I would love to chose between truth and love, as I understand them, Jesus won’t let me.)
I know this post might trigger people who are committed to either of these candidates. I don’t relish that. And I am not going to take an inordinate amount of time defending my position on Nov 6 when I come back on social media. I just feel I need to say it.
The Day After the Election: Emotions and Actions After the Election
What will the day after the presidential election be like for you? For our nation?
According to the polls – if you believe the polls – there is a high probability that we won’t know who the winner is. But whenever the eventual moment comes and a winner is declared, then what?
In all probability, allegations that the election was not fair will start flying. That idea, of course, has been sown in the ground for many months. “Another rigged election!” some will rage. Perhaps litigation to contest the election. But can we trust the results of those cases in an era of mistrusting all institutions?
But above all of this noise, what will your emotional state be the day after the election is declared? Despondent if your side lost? Gloating if your side won? Or worse. Accepting civil unrest and violence as the price we must pay?
Because I am a follower of Christ, my chief concern is how Jesus calls me and other espoused Christ followers to respond and conduct ourselves. I do not want to be among the gloaters, the ragers, the violent, or the despondent. I hope to retain my spiritual and emotional equilibrium. I hope to be rooted in my steadfast calling that remains the same on November 4, 5, 6, 7… That calling is to follow the Prince of Peace to continue to work for the shalom of my neighborhood, city, nation, and world. Included in this calling is to refuse to dehumanize or demonize others, including those whose political sensibilities are radically different and even offensive to me. I will continue to pray the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples to pray. It’s such a powerfully perfect prayer, and one we need to pray and ponder deeply today and in the coming days.
OUR FATHER (Father of us all – progressive, conservative, somewhere in between) in heaven,
hallowed be your name, Your reign come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us,
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one.
For yours is the Kingdom, power, and glory, forever and ever.
Amen.
Beyond Election Winners and Losers: A Call for Reflection
If you believe that if your side squeaks out a win in the U.S. election sweepstakes that all will be well, you probably need to think a little deeper. No matter who “wins” this is a time for deep soul reflection. It matters not whether you are progressive or conservative or somewhere in between. What are the lessons to be learned in this moment? What are the adjustments that must be made? Another word for this exercise is the old fashioned biblical word, “repentance,” which literally means to change the way we think and act. And there is plenty of that needed no matter what camp one tends to identify with. In fact, it’s so much harder to see where one’s own camp needs to repent. It almost requires a miracle. It always requires humility. And sometimes that comes only through great pain.
Reflection Exercise: Turning from our wicked ways
A familiar verse that is often invoked by conservative Christians is 2 Chronicles 7:14 which reads:
If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.
The phrase that is often aimed by conservatives at their theological and political foes is the phrase: “and turn from their wicked ways.” The danger of aiming this verse outward rather than inward is that produces blindspots to our own wicked ways.
For a more fulsome reflection, ask God to reveal to you particular “wicked ways” that show up across the political spectrum. Are there wicked ways that might tend to be more present in progressive camps? Conservative camps? Or even in moderate camps? What wicked ways might be most present in the camp you tend to identify with? Can you see them, name them, and turn from them?
Normal Christianity & The Need of the Hour for Christian Leaders
Many in the Christian community have been rocked by the recent revelation of the secret life of sexual sin and abuse by the renowned Christian apologist Ravi Zacharias. This tragic failure follows in the wake of other well-known leaders such as Bill Hybels. Both of these cases involved abuse of power, and in Zacharias’ case, sexual exploitation and assault on multiple women whom he violated and now face horrific trauma. We lament the pain, loss and devastation of these survivors and pray for their healing and restitution.
But the culture of silence and secrecy that incubates such predatory sexual exploitation is not limited to just megachurch pastors and leaders of large international ministries but also shows up in local congregations. There are ample examples of lesser-known local leaders who have joined the ranks of those whose lives of secret sin and abuse have been exposed. To add to this, there are leaders who have secretly struggled with depression, with some who have sadly succumbed to suicide. While the pressures associated with COVID may have exacerbated these problems, this spiritual malady has extended well beyond the current moment.
And the tragedy of these failures does not stop with the leaders themselves or even with the direct victims of their abuse. We know that when a Christian leader (most often a man) falls, it is not just the offending individual alone who suffers but all those who are attached to that person. Often wives and children take the disproportionate brunt from these failures but the harm extends to the parishioners whose trust was violated and to the broader community whose confidence in the Church and our truth claims is eroded.
To me, this failure points to a systemic problem that must be addressed, namely the absence of safe, transformative environments where leaders can bring their burdens, baggage, and temptations BEFORE they grow into full blown sin or some other destructive action.
Please know that my concern does not arise out of a harsh pharisaical posture in a rush to condemn these fallen leaders, but rather out of my own brokenness, vulnerability, and contrition. This is a sad hard reality that calls for lament, deep self-reflection related to our own practices, and repentance.
My Story
Let me share about how these issues have intersected with my own life and ministry. My aim in being as transparent as possible is an attempt to communicate that the burden I feel is not coming from a place of superiority and strength, but instead out of a place of vulnerability and weakness. I open this window into my life with the hope that it will open a space for you to connect with your own story.
As a child and teenager, I was sexually abused by a neighbor and by one of my favorite high school teachers. I was also introduced to pornography and drugs at an early age. All of these wounds, brokenness, and sin became a part of my formation as a person. When I came to faith in Christ at age 18, my life radically changed in many ways but some of the inner wounds and addictions were much harder places for me to find healing and freedom. Consequently, I entered into adulthood and even into my marriage and ministry not having sufficiently dealt with these areas of my life. And I didn’t feel the Church was equipped or safe to deal with these things, so I struggled with these issues on my own, often stuffing or covering them over.
When I came to do church planting ministry in Boston, our team leader abruptly left his wife a year and half into our church plant. Later it was revealed that he had had multiple sexual indiscretions with women in our church. After he left, I became the new team leader at age 26. But as I stepped into this role, I was keenly aware that I had a lot of brokenness and vulnerabilities that I had not sufficiently processed with God and trusted others. Out of desperation, I found a Christian counselor where I “bought” safe space to begin to unpack these areas of my life. I did not want to be next in line to fail publicly and to harm my marriage and the work of the Lord. I knew that I very easily could do so.
While the professional counseling was helpful, it was not sufficient. It was not until I entered into a program called Living Waters that I found a safe healing community that gave me the language, discipleship tools, and pathway to find healing, greater wholeness, and freedom. Through these experiences, I saw even more clearly how anemic most churches and ministries were in providing the community and tools necessary for finding healing and freedom in these areas of brokenness.
Sadly, this spiritual anemia is common not only in congregations but also among Christian leaders. We only need to look at the long list of leaders who have fallen in sin and despair in the past few years to see that Christian leaders are in no way exempt. Locally, I am aware of one well-known ministry that is known for rescuing folks out of lives of addiction, whose senior leadership has had a series of successive failures with leaders reverting to drug abuse, sexual indiscretion, abuse of power, and even suicide. When leaders such as this fall prey to such sin, this suggests to me that something is missing. And this is what I think it is: walking with trusted others in total transparency with our weakness and vulnerabilities.
The Need of the Hour for Christian Leaders
After the team leader of our church planting effort fell – and soon after I experienced healing with Living Waters – I came to see that I HAD to have one or two or three people that I walked with in total transparency and accountability. A group where I could practice in real time the admonition of James 5:13-16, especially v16:
13 Is anyone among you in trouble? Let them pray. Is anyone happy? Let them sing songs of praise. 14 Is anyone among you sick? Let them call the elders of the church to pray over them and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord. 15 And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up. If they have sinned, they will be forgiven. 16 Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.
I came to see that having such a community of practice was not a luxury or an optional activity but one that is essential to authentic Christian faith. And doubly important for Christian leaders. This kind of rich, caring, redeeming community is one of God’s greatest gifts to us as people of God, and especially for Christian leaders.
“Those who remain alone with their evil are left utterly alone. It is possible that Christians may remain lonely in spite of daily worship together, prayer together, and all their community through service—that the final breakthrough to community does not occur precisely because they enjoy community with one another as pious believers, but not with one another as those lacking piety, as sinners. For the pious community permits no one to be a sinner. Hence all have to conceal their sins from themselves and from the community. So we remain alone with our sin, trapped in lies and hypocrisy, for we are in fact sinners….
You cannot hide from God. The mask you wear in the presence of other people won’t get you anywhere in the presence of God. God wants to see you as you are, wants to be gracious to you.”
-From Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian in Community
A Self-Imposed Prison; and a Needless One
The prison of walking alone in our pain, temptations, and sin is a sad self-imposed prison but one that is totally unnecessary. Indeed, as the Apostle Peter noted in 2 Peter 1:3, God has “given us all that we need for life and godliness.” In fact, when we create safe transparent spaces to “confess our sins to one another and to pray for one another,” we find that God does some of his most profound redeeming work in those spaces. When we come out of hiding and walk out of our dark places and into the light, we experience new dimensions of God’s healing.
Becoming Wounded Healers
Another benefit for Christian leaders walking in these kinds of transparent confessional relationships is that it increases our capacity to humbly and authentically call others out of hiding and darkness and to come into the light. We become wounded healers. God uses us in our strengths but he uses us even more profoundly in our weaknesses IF we offer those to him and trusted others in a redemptive healing process.
In my late 40s – after learning and walking in many of the skills that I mentioned above – I went into a debilitating period of depression. I was unable to continue in ministry and went into a directed sabbatical which became another environment for providing tremendous healing grace in my life. And out of that redeemed pit of despair God has enabled me to minister to other leaders who are struggling with depression. God is faithful in redeeming our pain for his glory if we offer the pain to him.
My Life Now: Already,Not Yet
I have been walking with trusted others in the way I have described in this article for nearly 25 years. What has been the result? In short, my life parallels the Kingdom as an “already, not yet” reality. Already: I am a safer leader. I am more comfortable in my own skin than I used to be. My wife feels more secure in our relationship. I am a better father. I have an increased capacity to call other leaders out of hiding because I have been able to integrate my weakness and brokenness into my own story of redemption. And, Not Yet: I still wrestle with temptation (but it does not have the same power that it used to have in my life). There are still areas of brokenness in my life that God is addressing, like peeling back layers of an onion. His perfecting work in me continues and one of his primary go-to tools is the circle of trusted others that I have surrounded myself with.
Resources
Below you will find some resources to help you move toward walking in richer, more transparent confessional relationships. Most of these have been formative resources in my own journey. If you need further suggestions of how to pursue these kinds of relationships in your life, please feel free to reach out to me.
Brothers and sisters, if someone is caught in a sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently. But watch yourselves, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. If anyone thinks they are something when they are not, they deceive themselves. Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else, for each one should carry their own load. -Galatians 6:1-5
Reflections from a White Christian on the Importance of Remembering Black History in the United States
We won the Super Bowl (or World Series or World Cup or…) It is common in the English language and in popular American culture to use “the royal we” or “majestic plural” to include ourselves in some great feat. We know, in fact, that “we” didn’t win any such thing, but we invoke ownership nonetheless. Similarly, when we begin having a conversation about our nation’s history, many White Americans tend to associate themselves with the positive elements of America’s founding, lineages, and victories.
But when we get into America’s misdeeds, its injustices, its sins, the idea of “we” becomes very difficult for people, especially White people. People say things like, “Well, I wasn’t here. I didn’t do any of that. My parents didn’t own slaves and my grandparents didn’t own slaves.” Indeed, there is a tendency when it comes to mistakes, misconduct, and abuse, to disassociate ourselves from those things while retraining every aspect of perceived positive achievement.
But if we use “we” for the positive things we also need to be willing to use it for the shameful things. This is the power and responsibility of the American “we.” It’s important for anyone who identifies as an American, as a citizen of this country, to not simply embrace all the things about American history that we think are glorious and wonderful, but to also acknowledge and accept the things about our history that are tragic and devastating.
In truth, American history is a mixture of good, bad, and ugly. And the parts of the historical record that we choose to include – alongside that parts that we choose to ignore or are are blind to altogether – make up our version of the American narrative. And when White Americans are blind to both positive contributions of African Americans and the destructive elements of our White forebears, our incomplete and false narratives will cloud our ability to see our nation’s history accurately and impede our ability to make progress toward a “more perfect union” and a fuller expression of the “beloved community.”
There is a power and responsibility in invoking the American “we” and for many White people we need to recover this power by expanding our understanding of this common “we.”
African American History Some Whites Are Blind To
We just finished observing another Black History Month. Some White friends that I know question whether such a month is even needed. “We don’t have a White History Month,” they say. “Why do we need a Black one?” Bryan Stevenson, founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, makes the point about the African American contribution to our nation’s history that some Whites are blind to:
What’s interesting for me, when I look at the experience of African Americans in particular, Black people have been so committed to this country, they’ve been so committed to the identity of an America that is committed to equality and justice. In the 250 years of enslavement in which Black people endured being kidnapped, put in chains, brutalized, mistreated, abused, raped — there was daily humiliation and degradation, the violence of slavery. That kind of abuse and mistreatment finally ends in 1865 after the Civil War, after the ratification of the 13th Amendment. And instead of seeking revenge or retribution or violence against those who had enslaved them, emancipated Black people said, “We’re going to make peace here. We’re going to make community here. We’re going to commit to education. We’re going to commit to voting. We’re going to become ideal American citizens.”
When you think about all of the brutality and violence and abuse that Black people suffered and they still were willing to live in harmony with those who had abused them, it says something remarkable about the power of “we.” They believed in an America and they got no credit for that. What they got instead was more abuse. There were over 2,000 lynchings between 1865 and 1877. One of the most violent periods in American history.
And yet, for 100 years, they still believed enough in the American idea that they would continue finding ways to contribute. You saw those contributions in World War I, World War II, and the Korean War. And then when they got back from war, they’d be targeted for violence by white supremacists who feared their American military service might cause them to believe that they were an equal. What Dr. King and Rosa Parks and others do in the 1950s and ’60s is so rooted in a commitment to the American identity.
To me, the model that African Americans have established with this country is that even when things are not good we invoke this idea of an American identity. It means that we absolutely have to be willing to acknowledge the things that are harmful, that are injurious in the American South. The entire American South benefited from the institution of slavery — the entire United States did. The rail lines that allowed those companies in the North to become industrialists, the industries that gave rise to all of that growth during the first half of the 20th century — all of it had its roots in this forced labor stolen from Black bodies.
We have to understand that to really be honest. There is no way of saying “they did that.” If we’re going to claim American citizenship and American identity, there has to be a willingness to say “we” just like there’s that willingness to say “we” when an American does something great.”
From Vox Interview with Bryan Stevenson on How America Can Heal
Understanding the Continued Legacy of Slavery
The conversations we have in this country about racism and its bitter fruit, to the extent we have them at all, are polarized and fractured. So how do we engage our fellow Americans in a conversation about America’s foundational sins?
It begins with understanding what actually happened. The taproot evil of American slavery wasn’t involuntary servitude or the forced labor. The taproot of slavery was the ideology that Black people are less deserving, less worthy, less human, less evolved than White people.
Again, Stevenson:
If you understand that’s [White supremacy ideology] the true problem of slavery, then it becomes easier to understand how we don’t really end slavery with the passage of the 13th Amendment. In 1865, my view is that slavery doesn’t end — it just evolves. Because we never deal with the fundamental character that made enslavement so horrific, which is this ideology of white supremacy.
If you understand that’s the true problem of slavery, then it becomes easier to understand how we don’t really end slavery with the passage of the 13th Amendment. In 1865, my view is that slavery doesn’t end — it just evolves. Because we never deal with the fundamental character that made enslavement so horrific, which is this ideology of white supremacy.
Once you understand that, then you can continue to see that legacy play out in the disenfranchisement and exclusion of Black people from jobs in the North and West in the 1950s. When banks don’t give Black people mortgage loans, they don’t help veterans who are Black move into the middle class. You begin to see it in the ’70s and ’80s when we declared this war on drugs and we target Black communities. You see it in the ways in which police violence manifests itself.
And once you understand that, you begin to understand that you are implicated in this story. You are implicated in this moment that we live in where the smog created by our history of racial injustice is still in the air and we’re still breathing it in and it’s corrupting our world view, just like it corrupted the world view of people before us. So it does begin with that understanding.”
From Vox Interview with Bryan Stevenson on How America Can Heal
Reckoning with the Truth: The First Step Toward Healing
How do we move toward racial healing in our nation? What does this look like in practical terms? It begins by reckoning with the truth.
When people are genuinely engaged and recovering from human rights abuses, it always begins with a commitment to truth-telling first. We can’t jump to reconciliation or reparations before we reckon with the truth. And this reckoning with the truth must be done across every dimension of American life. Every entity, every institution has to reckon with the truth and its own historical complicity in the problem of racial injustice.
For me, this begins first and foremost with the American Church. Where was (and is) the Church complicit in overtly or covertly allowing racial injustice to flourish in our nation? Jemar Tisby answers this question powerfully in his book, The Color of Compromise: The Truth about the American Church’s Complicity in Racism. I highly recommend this book for anyone wishing to better understand the Church’s complicity in our nation’s sin of racism. Just a few sample quotes from the book gives us food for thought:
Harsh though it may sound, the facts of history nevertheless bear out this truth: there would be no black church without racism in the white church.
Color of Compromise, p52
Black people immediately detected the hypocrisy of American-style slavery. They knew the inconsistencies of the faith from the rank odors, the chains, the blood, and the misery that accompanied their life of bondage. Instead of abandoning Christianity, though, black people went directly to the teaching of Jesus and challenged white people to demonstrate integrity.
Color of Compromise, p31
Through reading this book, we realize that if we built the walls on purpose, we need to tear down the walls on purpose.
Lecrae, from the Foreword of Color of Compromise, p10
We don’t have to go outside our own churches and institutions to uncover our racist complicity. In fact, a great place to start is to begin with our own truth-telling. We can tell our own story about the ways in which our churches and organizations were (and often still are) complicit to racial sin and inequity.
For example, the denomination that I am ordained with – the Assemblies of God – has a clear history of racism in our founding. And, unfortunately, “what is in the roots can be seen in the fruits” to this very day. But it is not just the Assemblies of God that must come to a reckoning, the Southern Baptists and many other Christian denominations have their own stories to face.
Again, Bryan Stevenson, offers wise counsel on how we need to reckon with the truth within our own circles first. “…it begins with the truth-telling, because when you start telling the truth, you recognize things. For me, the question is: What is the truth of our institution as it relates to the history of racial inequality? It’s very, very concrete. How do we frame an investigation into the truth of our history? What is the truth of our history? What is our institutions’ role? What is our community’s role in allowing this landscape to be created that is so shattered by racial injustice and white supremacy?”
So, for me the first place to look is within my own Church first, then the broader Church in the U.S. Judgment always begins with the house of God. But this kind of reflection and confession needs moves beyond the Church to all strata of American life: colleges and university, corporations, banks, and federal and state governments.
Black history is important in and of itself but it is also essential if White people are to better understand their own history. Taken and woven together – Black history and White history – make up the power and responsibility of the American “we.”
Adapted from Salim Munayer’s “When Christmas is Threatening”
The Christmas message is far more powerful and relevant to our pain-racked world than we often recognize. The Christmas story in popular western culture is one of comfort, simplicity and kindness, but the original Christmas was unveiled in a context of discomfort, complexity, and oppression.
The people of Israel in the first century were under occupation, oppression and despair. The Roman Empire dictated every aspect of life and enforced its will by the sword. The emperor Augustus was considered a god and required worship from Roman citizens. In addition, the local Jewish leadership at the temple were fixated with maintaining the position and influence they had with King Herod and the Romans. By doing so, they missed what God was doing, expecting instead the Messiah to overthrow the Romans with military force. This is not dissimilar to today when many people are obsessed and drawn to political power which demands a certain amount of loyalty.
It is in this story of political, religious and social unrest that God decides to reveal himself in human skin. Moreover, he revealed himself not in the palaces or the temple of Jerusalem, but in a small household in Bethlehem. And those who attended his birth were not the elite or powerful, but the marginalized, oppressed and different. It was a young woman who was considered by some to be unfaithful and her husband who was a carpenter, shepherds who were at the bottom of the socio-economic class, and foreigners from afar. An unexpected and unusual company to welcome the king of kings who was to liberate them.
The context of the first Christmas – among the outcasts of political and social power – is often overlooked by modern western Christians. Many Christians emphasize the birth of Christ and completely ignore its contextual message. Christmas is a story that gives hope to those who are ignored, live under oppression, and are marginalized.
The contextual and theological story of Christmas is full of challenging messages to how we live our lives among the oppressed. Are we going to continue celebrating the holiday in a superficial manner? Or are we going to allow the hopeful message of Christ to reach the most oppressed, marginalized, and voiceless people in our respective contexts?
When we embrace this Christmas message of hope and liberation for these communities, we join the Kingdom of God which opposes every wicked authority and leadership. There is a danger in our time to miss the work of God in history and maintain our gaze on political and religious individuals or trends like many did during the Christmas story. As the Kingdom of God works like yeast and a mustard seed, its impact and effect are not seen immediately. And this message is far more threatening to political, religious and social powers than any Christmas tree you will see.
Reflection questions:
In what ways does my observance of Christmas reflect the way that God entered into the world on the first Christmas?
Does my Christmas observance include the oppressed and the marginalized in any way?
What steps can I take to observe Christmas in a way that lessens my fixation with political power and embraces liberation and hope for the powerless?
As I write this 2.0 version of Restoring Islands of Sanity the outcome of the U.S. presidential election is still being contested. Leading up to the election we all witnessed how divided and polarized our nation is. Perhaps we even imbibed in a little of that political rancor ourselves. And for those of us who are Christians, we likely witnessed the Christianized version of these deep divisions as they manifested themselves within the diverse Body of Christ. Red and blue do not often relate well in the political sphere; they also don’t seem to mix well in the Church.
As we continue to wait for the election to be called – and even after the election is called – we must all choose how we will respond in this season. Will we add to the toxicity of this moment by fueling more polarization or will we serve as peacemakers who seek to promote understanding and advancing the common good? To do the latter rather than the former, we will need to prepare ourselves to be the best kind of people we want to be in this season. What follows are steps that I am taking to prepare myself during this waiting period and for life after the election. My hope is that some of these steps might resonate with those of you who are reading this blog.
First, I want to search for ways to restore islands of sanity in a world of chaos. Recently I read a book by Margaret Wheatley entitled Who Do We Choose To Be? Facing Reality, Claiming Leadership, Restoring Sanity. The book is both bleak and hopeful simultaneously. One metaphor that Wheatley uses is the idea of exerting our best leadership to “create islands of sanity.” Of course the islands are vulnerable to the wider sea of chaos but they can also serve as a witness that there are alternatives to the wider maelstrom in our world. Perhaps people looking for a different path will see these islands, find respite there, and be inspired by what they encounter (see further thoughts on what restoring islands might look like at the end of this blog post).
I still would like to see the wider world change but rather than despair in what I cannot control I find some measure of hope in working toward islands of sanity that present an alternative to what we are witnessing in the world.
Second, I am going to take a social media break. I am going to be doing a 30-day detox from social media. I can tell that my soul is worn and weary and social media has not been a nourishing source but a depleting one. It’s time for a break from being triggered by – and triggering – my Facebook friends. I need a period to cleanse my emotional palate. A helpful guide that I will be following is outlined by Cal Newport in his book Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World. Anyone wan to join me? I’m planning on starting on Sunday, November 8.
The admonition of the prophet Isaiah feels timely to this moment:
“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.” (Isaiah 30:15)
Third, I am going to shift my focus from the large and distant to the small and the local. When we debate large social issues and engage in heated political campaigns it is easy to fall prey to fear, anger, and a proneness to demonize those who disagree with us. But if we shift our attention from the large and the distant to the small and the local we can reset our spiritual moorings and recalibrate our human kindness to those who are in close proximity to us. Fear is often cultivated at a distance but love can best be expressed locally, even with those with whom we disagree.
Fourth, I am praying that God will prepare my heart to be an agent of healing and true shalom. One thing is for sure following this election, we will be a nation in need of healing. Are we as human beings, as American citizens, and members of the Body of Christ, prepared to work for the healing of our nation no matter who wins the 2020 presidential election? I am praying that God would prepare my heart to work for healing and true shalom in our communities, nation, and world.
There will be winners and losers in this election cycle. Am I prepared to be a gracious loser or a gracious winner? Jesus calls us to be salt and light in the world. Will my saltiness be a corrosive variety that uncaringly rubs salt into the wounds of my neighbors or will it be a healing agent carefully administered with a heart of love?
“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” -Jesus in Matthew 5:13-16
It is almost certain that the outcome of the 2020 U.S. presidential election will not be determined for days, weeks, or perhaps even months after election day. Baring a miracle, that means days / weeks / months of serious political rancor (at best) to serious social unrest (at worse). What has been weighing on me the past few weeks above all else is how I – and my fellow citizens, especially my brothers and sisters in the Christian community – will choose to respond whatever the outcome of the election is. I think we need to begin to prepare ourselves now. I know that I do. What follows are steps that I intend to take to prepare myself for life after election day – for the period of waiting for a winner to be declared, and for life after the winner is declared. My hope is that some of these steps might resonate with those of you who are reading this blog.
First, I am going to take a social media break. I am going to be doing a 30-day detox from social media. I can tell that my soul is worn and weary and social media has not been a nourishing source but a depleting one. It’s time for a break from being triggered by – and triggering – my Facebook friends. I need a period to cleanse my emotional palate. A helpful guide that I will be following is outlined by Cal Newport in his book Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy World. Anyone wan to join me? I’m planning on starting on Sunday, November 8.
The admonition of the prophet Isaiah feels timely to this moment:
“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.” (Isaiah 30:15)
Second, I am going to shift my focus from the large and distant to the small and the local. When we debate large social issues and engage in heated political campaigns it is easy to fall prey to fear, anger, and a proneness to demonize those who disagree with us. But if we shift our attention from the large and the distant to the small and the local we can reset our spiritual moorings and recalibrate our human kindness to those who are in close proximity to us. Fear is often cultivated at a distance but love can best be expressed locally, even with those with whom we disagree.
Third, I want to search for ways to restore islands of sanity in a world of chaos. Recently I read a book by Margaret Wheatley entitled Who Do We Choose To Be? Facing Reality, Claiming Leadership, Restoring Sanity. The book is both bleak and hopeful simultaneously. One metaphor that Wheatley uses is the idea of exerting our best leadership to “create islands of sanity.” Of course the islands are vulnerable to the wider sea of chaos but they can also serve as a witness that there are alternatives to the wider maelstrom in our world. Perhaps people looking for a different path will see these islands, find respite there, and be inspired by what they encounter.
I still would like to see the wider world change but rather than despair in what I cannot control I find some measure of hope in working toward islands of sanity that present an alternative to what we are witnessing in the world.
Fourth, I am praying that God will prepare my heart to be an agent of healing and true shalom. One thing is for sure following this election, we will be a nation in need of healing. Are we as human beings, as American citizens, and members of the Body of Christ, prepared to work for the healing of our nation no matter who wins the 2020 presidential election? I am praying that God would prepare my heart to work for healing and true shalom in our communities, nation, and world.
There will be winners and losers in this election cycle. Am I prepared to be a gracious loser or a gracious winner? Jesus calls us to be salt and light in the world. Will my saltiness be a corrosive variety that uncaringly rubs salt into the wounds of my neighbors or will it be a healing agent carefully administered with a heart of love?
“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.
“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” -Jesus in Matthew 5:13-16
A Prayer for the Election by Rev. James Martin, S.J.
Loving God, I ask you to guide me during this important election season:
Help me to understand the Gospels, in which Jesus Christ reveals his path of love, mercy and compassion, especially toward those who are poor, sick or struggling in any way. Instruct me on what the church teaches on the important issues of our day: abortion, racism, migration, war and peace, health care, the death penalty, economic justice, care for the environment and on all those questions that I must ponder with your help. Enable me to form my conscience so that I may vote wisely.
Loving God, I ask you to help me to live peacefully with others:
Allow me to be open to the opinions of others with whom I disagree. Fill me with a spirit of charity toward those who may oppose me. Give me patience in times of struggle.
Loving God, I ask you to help me stand with those who are marginalized or persecuted:
Increase my courage so that I can stand up in times of danger. Create in me a new heart that I might be brave in times of turmoil. Make me someone who is ready to care for, advocate for and suffer with those on the margins.
Loving God, I ask you to aid our civic leaders:
Grant them good health and a spirit of wisdom. Open to them paths of reconciliation. Teach them your ways of love, mercy and compassion.
Loving God, I ask you to bless our nation:
Crown it with your compassion. Support it with your care. And nurture it with your love.