This past Wednesday, we woke up to the results of our latest national election. Some were elated about the results. Others were (and are) despondent in the belief that our nation faces great peril. Most of us, both liberal and conservative, have been here before, feeling joy at times and sadness at others. In a system based on winning and losing, it’s inevitable that some are left behind in the elation of the winners.
What I do know is that there are people we know who are fearful in the wake of the election of Donald Trump. Women (especially in the south where I lived for so long) fear continued attacks on their healthcare needs as hospitals refuse to offer life and death procedures out of fear of arrest. Transgender persons face a world where they are demonized and attacked without recourse, and legislatures create laws to criminalize their identity. LGBTQ friends worry that the legislation allowing them to marry will be overturned in state after state. And, the mainstreaming of white supremacy opens the doors to further attacks of racism and antisemitism. Some may feel that these fears are overblown, but given the rhetoric of the election, they have a valid basis for those fears.
I am committed to the ideal that Northfield United Methodist Parish is a place where all people are welcomed and embraced with the love of God, Likewise, I believe that we must be a safe space for all who are at risk due to their gender, race, nationality, and identity. As Paul said to the church at Galatia, followers of Jesus are to bear one another’s burdens in order to fulfill the love of Christ. There is no option in God’s kingdom but to love all completely.
Some of us may be feeling despondent with the election results, feeling that hope is gone. I think Rev. Steve Ganass-Holmes, a pastor in Maine, offers the best advice as we ask what’s next:
The journey is not over.
It never is.
Justice is not a statue we erect,
and then we’re finished.
Justice is a dance we are either dancing
or not dancing, every day.
The music is always playing.
Evil—selfish fear—
is always making noise,
trying to drown out the music.
But deep down the goodness lives;
the music is always there.
We are always invited to dance,
to show kindness with grace and courage,
to dismantle hateful systems,
to relate with tender love
even amid hate and anger.
Every triumph and disaster,
every step forward and back,
is part of the dance.
Regardless of what happens
today or any day,
do justice, love kindness,
and walk humbly with God.
And trust we are with you as well.
The journey goes on.
It never is.
Justice is not a statue we erect,
and then we’re finished.
Justice is a dance we are either dancing
or not dancing, every day.
The music is always playing.
Evil—selfish fear—
is always making noise,
trying to drown out the music.
But deep down the goodness lives;
the music is always there.
We are always invited to dance,
to show kindness with grace and courage,
to dismantle hateful systems,
to relate with tender love
even amid hate and anger.
Every triumph and disaster,
every step forward and back,
is part of the dance.
Regardless of what happens
today or any day,
do justice, love kindness,
and walk humbly with God.
And trust we are with you as well.
The journey goes on.
God is with us. We continue to be a part of God’s story. May we all be agents of reconciliation, peace, and love in a world that is broken and in need of an extra measure of God’s grace.
With Christ’s love,
Jay
Jay