934 Days

If Donald Trump makes it to the end of his term, as of today, 934 days of his presidency remain. If he is re-elected… No, I can’t bring myself to go there.

So far, he has been president 526 days. That means that roughly 526 times I have watched the news at the end of the day, overwhelmed by a combination of disbelief and despair. It's not a good way to go to bed at night. I know I’m not alone. There are many of us who wonder how we will survive 934 more days of this.

Let me say that a part of what makes this difficult for me, personally, is the fact that I serve a congregation where we don’t all agree about our current president. And there are people I honestly love and care for who support him. I continue to love them, even though I strongly disagree with them. This is the Jesus Way. We continue to love one another despite our differences. This means that I will not shut them out of my life. But that doesn’t change the responsibility I have to speak God’s truth. It’s my job, as their pastor, to love them and to speak God’s truth to them. And damn, that’s hard these days.

As I read the Scriptures, I see that God is all about mercy and justice. And by justice, I don’t mean that in a law-and-order kind of way. God’s justice can’t be separated from God’s mercy and compassion. God’s justice is about leveling the playing field. Lifting the lowly and toppling the mighty ones from their thrones. So, God’s justice has a bias—a bias for those on the bottom. Jesus embodied that bias in his life, from the manger to the cross. Following the Jesus Way means standing on the side of the poor and marginalized. 

For the past 40 years, I have been proclaiming the truth of the gospel no matter who our president happened to be. But preaching the gospel is difficult these days because when I do, people think I’m criticizing our president. I don’t even mention his name, but their minds go there. This makes some people cheer while others are angry with me. Can you see why my stomach is in knots these days?

Now, my friends who are Trump supporters tell me that this is how they felt when Obama was president. But I don’t think so. I would compare the way they felt when Obama was president with the way I felt when Reagan was president. It was disturbing, and I was hanging on, waiting for the pendulum to swing, but that can’t compare to the way I’m feeling now.

If you talk to any therapist, they will tell you that the current political climate in America is good for their business. The despair has created a mental health crisis for many people. Some days I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread, but I’m muddling through it.

There are things I’m finding I must do right now, so that I can continue to function in the world where God has planted me. I have to limit my time on social media as well as CNN and MSNBC. (You might be amused to know that my cable package doesn’t include FOX News. It took me over a year to discover this.) I’ve decided that somewhere between burying my head in the sand and wallowing in 24-hour misery, I can find a place that’s healthy for me.

Instead of watching the same train wreck 100 times, I am re-watching West Wing on Netflix. At the end of every day I see what’s going on in the world for about 20 minutes, and then I escape into a fantasy world where Jed Bartlet is our president.

The weird thing is that this is the third time I’ve watched the entire season and I have never reacted to it as I am now. I have a box of Kleenex beside me because, at the end of every episode, the tears flow. I remember being this way with sappy shows like The Waltons and Little House on the Prairie. In the last five minutes they manipulated my emotions. I knew they were doing it, and I cried anyway. But never before has West Wing had this effect on me. I keep putting myself through the tears because it’s a good cry for me. There is an idealism about the show and a patriotism that gives me hope. It’s helping me hold on.

I wonder how many more times I will go through an entire season of West Wing in the next 934 days.

Dealing with the Divide - courage, caring and Christian community

We did it. This morning at Ascension, about 30 of us pulled our chairs into a circle and we listened to one another. It wasn’t easy. For some, it took every ounce of courage they could muster just to be there. And I’m thankful that our Christian community meant so much to them that they felt called to show up.

Last Sunday I challenged the congregation in a sermon to put Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount about reconciling with one another into action. I talked about the elephant in the room since early November when our President was elected. Despite strong feelings, we have avoided talking about it. We have been polite, but we have avoided looking one another in the eye, and that is not what the life of reconciliation looks like.

And so, this morning we gathered to listen to one another, for the purpose of understanding. We didn’t gather to argue, or to convince one another that we’re right and they’re wrong. As we shared with one another, we were reminded of all that we have in common as God’s people. And because of that, we were able to listen to our differences and acknowledged them, forbearing with one another in love.

The morning was not without discomfort. We began with prayer and a reading of Ephesians 4:1-6. Then we went over some basic ground rules for our time together before splitting into two groups. This was the most difficult part of the morning. For some, it meant “outing” themselves among those who had no idea how they had voted in the presidential election. I had been concerned that there might have been only a few who had voted for DJT at our meeting. It turns out that was not the case. The group was close to evenly divided.

The two groups separated. Each was assigned the task of compiling a list of 5-10 things they wanted the other group to understand about them. As I floated back and forth between the two, I was taken aback by the raw emotion within both groups. Had this really been such a good idea, after all? I had to keep reminding myself that, without openness and honesty, there is no genuine community. Yes, it’s painful, but it’s the only way to go.

After they compiled their lists of things they wanted the other group to understand about them, I asked them to get inside the heads of the people in the other room and come up with what they imagined the other group would say about themselves on their list. That seemed to be easier for them, although I could see that this process could have taken all day. They had plenty to say among themselves, where they felt safe.

Then came the scary part. We got back together and we compared lists. Those who didn’t vote for President Trump had a list of things they wanted those who did vote for President Trump to understand about them, and vice versa. The telling part of the exercise was the second part where each group had done a pretty good job of guessing what the other group would be saying.

At the top of both their lists, there was a clear statement about how much it means to them to be people of faith. And that, of course, was the point. We’re all people of faith.

This is what it looks like to be in Christian community. Ascension gathers under a wide, wide tent. Our diversity isn’t obvious to the naked eye, but we are certainly diverse. No one is denied a place under that tent. This isn’t easy to accomplish in our divided society, but by the grace of God, we do it. I hope the people of Ascension can appreciate how extraordinary they are.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to end the morning. I thought of praying, or going back to the text from Ephesians. But when the time came, I knew exactly how we needed to conclude our time together. We gathered about the altar and communed one another with the bread and wine. And then we offered God’s peace to one another. When we said, “Peace be with you” we looked one another in the eye, and we meant it.

"It seemed to them an idle tale"

“But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.” The words from Luke 24 keep bouncing around in my head as I tune in to today’s news.

Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and other women who stood by Jesus’ side all the way to the cross, while the male disciples ran for their lives, had come to Jesus’ tomb to anoint his body. When they got there, the tomb was empty, and they were greeted by two men in dazzling clothes. The men told them that Jesus had risen from the dead, and remembering the way Jesus had explained how his life would unfold, they knew it was true. He had risen! So, they ran to tell the men. 

As Matthew tells the story, Jesus himself sends the women to proclaim the good news of the resurrection. Sure, the testimony of women was considered worthless back then, but Jesus entrusted them with the greatest testimony of all time.

And the men? When they heard what the women had to say… Well, these words “seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.”

As a woman preacher, I’m thankful that the people in my congregation take what I have to say seriously. To my knowledge, my words aren’t dismissed as nonsense. Mary Magdalene’s problem isn’t my problem. After all, it’s 2016, right?

And yet, I watch the news of the day and I’m reminded of those for whom the testimony of women "seems to them an idle tale."

Why do so many women still have to endure this crap? Why, whenever women dare to confront sexism or misogyny, does it “seem to them an idle tale?” Why, when women speak the truth about their experience of harassment, abuse, rape… why does it “seem to them an idle tale?”

I’m sick to death of women being dismissed, discredited, and dissected whenever they dare to speak truth to power, challenging male domination and violence that is alive and well in the United States of America. Will we ever get past this?

Presidential candidates, politics, preaching, and Jesus

The 2016 presidential election has been a challenge for me as a pastor. I have never endorsed a candidate for any office from the pulpit or in any way that would be imposing my choice on others. Not only would that be illegal, but it would be unfair and unwise. I minister to and with people who take a variety of political stances. It’s important that they know I am a pastor to all of them.

That being said, I would be surprised if there is a single person in my congregation who doesn’t know how I’ll be voting in this presidential election. It’s not a secret, and if they ask me, I’ll tell them. Not many people have asked. I suspect it’s because either they already know the answer, or they don’t want to hear me give an answer. 

This is a contentious election. The bonfires of passion are burning for all candidates, but particularly for the ones representing the two major parties. Unfortunately, most of that passion seems to be fueled by an almost irrational hatred toward the opposing candidate. It’s not so much a passion FOR as AGAINST. 

Every time I hear people say that we never have had such a divisive time in our country, I don’t know if I want to scream or laugh. Such a comment reflects a narrow view of history. If you look at the history of politics in our country, it’s been one scandal after another, one challenge to the constitution after another, one division after another. Not to mention that little event we call the Civil War. So, this is nothing new. It doesn’t mean that things have never been worse, it just means we’re not progressing, which is just as troubling.

A number of people around me are lamenting the fact that on election day they will be forced to vote for the lesser of two evils. Well, when I think about all the times I’ve voted in presidential elections, and there have been enough of those that I’ve lost count, more times than not, I felt like I was voting for the lesser of two evils. In all those years, only once did I drink the kool aid. Only once did I invest myself personally in a presidential candidate. Only once did I contribute money and actively work in a presidential campaign. (That one time was in 2008 and I am already grieving the day Obama is no longer our president.) I’m usually not an enthusiastic voter in presidential elections.

This time around I will be voting for Hillary Clinton. I don’t always vote for a democrat, although lately it seems to go that way. At one time I was a big Hillary supporter, and then when she ran in the primary against Obama, she said things that I couldn’t fathom. I saw that she would do anything to get elected and it made me sick. Ever since then, I have not been a fan. I didn’t want her to run this time mainly because I know there are so many people who detest her and she has so much baggage. I voted for Bernie in the primary. But I’ve warmed to Hillary again and can say that I won’t feel nauseous when I vote for her in November. That’s the best I can do. 

I know there are people in my congregation who disagree with me and that’s okay. It’s not my job to convince them that I’m right and they’re wrong. 

My job is to show them Jesus. That’s always my job. We say we’re followers of Jesus, so we’d better be clear about what that means. Week in and week out, that’s what I hope I’m doing—showing them who Jesus is and what it means for us to follow him. 

So here’s one of the things about following Jesus that there’s no getting around. You can’t do it a little bit. It’s not just one thing in a list of many things we’re striving to do in our lives. If you’re following Jesus, you’re all in. That means that the Jesus Way determines how you do your job, how you relate to your friends as well as your enemies, how you treat the poor and the marginalized, how you spend your money, how you drive in traffic… everything. Including, how you vote. 

Some of the members of my congregation will not be voting as I do in November. I will not be disappointed in them for that. But I will be disappointed if they don’t vote as followers of Jesus.