I read a meme the other day that said, “Waking up every day since Trump got reelected feels like Christmas morning except instead of presents, a punch in the stomach” (Instagram, The Volatile Mermaid). This resonated with me as I have felt the return of the constant mid-grade anxiety I carried during his first term.
I want to say that I’m surprised by the election results, but I’m not. The results are still a punch in the gut. But the veil has been lifted–the crack has been widened–and we are seeing the racism, misogyny, and vileness that was (somewhat) hidden from view. Or, it was at least buried enough that we didn’t have to see it if we didn’t want to.
I’m not surprised by the election results.
But I am disappointed. I am gut-punched.
My stumbling block is that I believed–I have always held the hope–that we, as a nation and as a citizenry, were working toward a better future for all of humanity. I believe in the common good, and I (often naively) believed that most people did too. As I matured in both knowledge and faith, I realized that money and power get in the way of the common good. Yet, I still hoped that most of us were working toward a better world.
My disappointment in the election results can quickly shift toward despair and an attempt to place blame. But, to be honest, I’m not interested in placing blame. That might be because it doesn’t matter who or what is to blame. Or, it might be because the reasons why are too complicated to blame Democrats, or third-party voters, or apathetic non-voters, or white men.
The simple truth, for me at least, is that we allowed power and money to manipulate us into allowing a convicted felon, sexual predator, and blatant racist to win an election that is going to cost us more than we can imagine. We let money and power beat the common good.
And, yes, I said “we” even though I didn’t vote for him.
I said “we” because I am part of a Church that I deeply love. I am a part of a Church that has repeatedly failed the people I love.
So, I’m not interested in placing blame. But I am interested in what we, the Church, will do now and where we will go from here. Because the truth of the matter is that many of us–many of those who live in my community of West Michigan–won’t feel the effects of this administration at all. But there are plenty of people–plenty of my neighbors and church family and school community–who are going to feel and experience the violence, brutality, and chaos the actions the president-elect has promised and has already started to implement.
The truth is that the evangelical right has damaged the Church’s witness in America.
We have allowed the rhetoric of the public and political spheres to manipulate us and the narrative about social issues to fracture and divide us. Instead of speaking Jesus’ truth, instead of challenging hateful rhetoric and clear manipulation, we, the Church, have been broken open and apart.
In the first blog post I wrote at the beginning of November, I mentioned that our church is in the midst of a sermon series on the topic of Home. One idea of Home that I have repeatedly returned to during this season is that to feel at home, one needs to feel emotionally, physically, and spiritually safe. As a mother, I want my daughters to feel physically and emotionally safe in our home; as a wife, I want my husband to feel mentally and emotionally safe; as a friend, I want others to feel welcome in my home. There is an element of safety necessary to being home or feeling at home.
But, in being broken open and apart, many within the Church have lost sight of Jesus’ teachings to such an extent that people no longer feel safe. When people choose politics over Jesus, division over Jesus, and money and power over Jesus, the Church no longer feels safe. People no longer feel safe when the Church doesn’t speak the truth of the gospel–or doesn’t speak the truth loudly enough.
This last week, our Sunday worship scripture passage was Luke 4:16-20. I’m going to post some of it here:
[Jesus] unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set free those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
I think this is the truth the Church needs to proclaim now. Setting free the oppressed means creating safe spaces of unity. Bringing good news to the poor means protecting children in schools, women through health care, the physical safety of the LGBTQIA+ community, and refugees and immigrants’ right to a home.
It’s time for the Church to speak the truth and stop the violent rhetoric that divides and destroys. It’s time to name the places and spaces where money and power win over the common good. It’s time for unity, community, and collaboration.
It’s time to bring the Good News.
Header Photo by Lara Jameson
Thank you, Kathryn. You have spoken for me.
And notice what he did NOT read from Isa 61:2b, “and the day of vengeance of our God.” The way of Jesus does not include violence (either from us, or from God). He is the prince of peace, not of war or revenge.
Well said
So true. Such an insult to God! ” We will take the atonement, please, and 3 or 4 of the 10 commandments, but no thanks to the teachings of Jesus.”
Safe spaces are getting harder to find.
The new administration is already looking ahead. This article is a call for us to be doing the same. If he is any kind of a man of his word, we need to prepare ourselves for mass deportations of undocumented immigrants who will be forced to decide if their American born children should stay or return with them to their country of origin. This should and will be painful to watch. We should all be discussing together what will be the most effective and caring things that we can do. How far are we willing to go into harms way to protest such family separations? Are there legal ways to hinder and slow this process down? Are there financial ways to offer our help? We will need light shed on this topic to lead our larger community towards effective and supportive actions.
“When people choose politics over Jesus, division over Jesus, money over Jesus, the church no longer feels safe” That’s a good observation.
For me, personally – the words “Feels Safe” can be replaced more benignly with “Feels Uncomfortable” It’s uneasy (almost excruciating) for me to attend an evangelical church where Trumpian policies are lionized, yet at the same time I get a bit queasy in my Episcopalian sphere where transgenderism and other progressive hot button issues are championed from the pulpit under the guise of Christ’s example of unabashed inclusion. It has been a journey to find a safe and “open space” to worship, to meditate, to find Christ and to hopefully transform.