Isaiah 65:17-25
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
Luke 21:5-19
I’m quite certain my hair has gotten whiter over the past week. A few months ago my mother, a striking nearly 90-something matriarch, pondered aloud about the strangeness of having a daughter who was blanca en canas – roughly translated, a gray-haired old woman. Now, she makes certain I understand that gray hair comes from my father’s side of the family, and not hers…But without arguing the genetics of hair color, I think it’s safe to say that the past few days have been enough to make anyone’s hair turn white, or stand up on end, or fall out in fistfuls.
As a nation, we witnessed the conclusion of the most contentious presidential election cycle that many of us can remember. Roughly half of the people who cast votes on Tuesday were elated with the result, while the other half were disappointed. Among those of us here, this morning, some of us put our hopes in the lady in the pantsuit and some in the gentleman with the hair. Unless this is someone’s first time voting, it’s something we’ve all experienced before, every four years, and the world keeps on spinning. And we go on with our lives.
Aaron Sorkin, the creator and writer of hit television shows like The West Wing (which featured perhaps the greatest president of all time, but hey, he was fictional) and The Newsroom described our democratic process well. We get to “drive to the fire station and overthrow the government and there isn’t a policeman on the street.” As an immigrant, that’s a duty and privilege I value – the country of my birth only enjoyed something remotely resembling free and fair elections for eight years in its entire history.
But the ugliness of this particular campaign has left a bitter taste. Sister Simone Campbell, Executive Director of the Roman Catholic group NETWORK and one of the “Nuns on the Bus” that travelled the country during the 2012 and 2016 campaigns, notes that “More often our politics are about policies. This election was about feelings.”
The truth is, people are hurting. On all sides. For a long time. David Brooks, a Republican op-ed columnist for The New York Times, points out that the terror attacks of September 11 were really what delineated the start of the 21st century. We have lived with a pervasive national feeling of anxiety and fear, with suspicion and distrust, of grief and loss.
The prophet Isaiah spoke God’s message to a community that had been living with these same emotions. The Northern Kingdom of Israel had been conquered by the Assyrians, a significant segment of the population was forcibly resettled, and Jerusalem – the Holy City – while not conquered had nonetheless come under siege. Isaiah’s listeners were people who felt uprooted, unmoored, threatened.
Like many in our current world. And when human beings feel threatened, they seek security, wherever they think they can find it, from whomever they believe will make things right.
And in the midst of their anxiety and uncertainty, they heard the prophet proclaim the promise of a future in which God would set things right:
No more shall the sound of weeping be heard…or the cry of distress. No more shall there be in it an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime…They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands. They shall not labor in vain, or bear children for calamity; for they shall be offspring blessed by the LORD-- and their descendants as well.
What a beautiful vision! Filled with hope – not all that different from what we hope for, long for, in our own time. But there’s one important difference. Our hope must rest in God, and in God alone. Not in our elected leaders, no matter how qualified, no matter how eloquent, no matter what the specifics of their legislative agendas. Our hope is in the Holy One, who – regardless of claims made by the opposing sides – doesn’t hold membership in any political party.
But that still leaves us with work to do. The Christ whom we confess as Lord and Savior calls us to love our enemies, to turn the other cheek, to forgive as we have been forgiven. That is the task before us, now more than ever. And it won’t be an easy task.
Dr. Arthur Cribbs, a United Church of Christ pastor and well-known leader in the global faith community, talks about the “polarization produced by the politicos’ pontifications and patronizing promotion of paranoia.” The goes on to say that, “deep wounds have been opened…The genie has popped the cork and cannot be easily contained or placed back in the bottle.”
The genie that has been let loose is seen in the increase in hate and bias incidents over the past few days – by one estimate, over 200 incidents of harassment and intimidation reported since last Tuesday alone.
The genie that has been let loose is evidenced in incidents where Muslim women have had their hijabs pulled off.
The genie that has been let loose is at work when students of color are psychologically taunted and physically threatened.
The genie that has been let loose can be seen in the protests have erupted in New York and other cities, and that are planned in the weeks and months ahead.
The genie that has been let loose is seen in the tense climate that feels like it might erupt into violence at any moment.
This isn’t a partisan issue. No one group is solely complicit, and all sides share in the problem. As a society, we have lost the ability to engage in civil discourse, in the public square, even around our kitchen tables, and perhaps even in our communities of faith. And, as difficult as it may be to acknowledge in a world that prefers to see people in terms of heroes/villains, good guys/bad guys, our God equally loves the president-elect and his followers AND the lady in the pantsuit and hers,
And, if anything, the Gospels tell us time and again that Jesus had a particular soft spot for those who society painted with a negative brush – the sinners, the tax collectors, women, the disabled, the Samaritans, those caught in the act. And because he has a soft spot, his love doesn’t distinguish between the person who traces her or his roots to the Mayflower and the undocumented day laborer who mows that same person’s lawn or minds their kids. And because all of us have fallen short of God’s glory, that non-discriminating, all-encompassing love is something we should celebrate. Something to shout “Hallelujah” about. It is taking seriously the verses that we learned to sing as children, Jesus loves me, this I know. Jesus loves US, all of us, this we know...Red and yellow, black and white…ALL are precious in his sight.
And when God take does take sides, the side God is on is the side of love, of mercy, of compassion, of forgiveness, of reconciliation, of justice.
So, in these contentious and overwhelming times, what are we as the Church – as followers of Jesus Christ – called to do?
We are called to hold on to faith. Even when we feel like we’re holding on by a thread, hold on to that which the author of the epistle to the Hebrews described as “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Hold on to faith.
We are called to persistence even when the going gets tough. As we heard in the epistle to the Thessalonians: Brothers and sisters, do not be weary in doing what is right. Keep on doing the work of discipleship: proclaim the Gospel, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger. (And yeah, “stranger” by nature means someone who will quite possibly seem strange to all you hold to be normal. Show welcome.) Share Christ’s love – even to those we consider nasty and the deplorable. Especially to those we consider nasty and the deplorable. Because, no matter what we were or are, Christ didn’t hold back love from us.
Remember that there is no “me,” no “them,” only “us.” Together. We are all created in the image of our God, we are all beloved of God, loved and cherished beyond belief, and because of that, we are intricately, intimately, and intrinsically a part of each other.
As we live into whatever the future may hold, let us not forget what really defines us – we are God’s people. We belong to God. We belong to each other. And we are called and sent forth into the world as God’s laborers, in the name of divine, redeeming, saving love. By your endurance you will gain your souls.
Richard Rohr notes, "God and goodness offer both the first and final words to history." May the peace of the Lord be with us all, today and always. Amen.
