It’s Election Day plus seven, and things aren’t quite back to normal. Or perhaps the new normal isn’t in place yet. First, there’s the post-election armchair quarterbacking.  Everyone, even the pros, is still scrambling to analyze polling data to explain the success of the Trump campaign or point at the failures of the Clinton campaign (and usually both at the same time). Some are taking an electoral-only victory as a mandate, while others are still in shock and wondering why we still have the Electoral College. Protests continue, mostly peaceful. Some have branded protestors as crybabies, and as is usually the case, some folks join the protests just to cause trouble.

Another phenomenon this week has been an uptick in reported incidents of hate crimes, all of which are unsettling. The majority have involved aggression, mostly graffiti, directed at persons of color, members of the Muslim faith, or LGBT persons and their supporters. I personally have a connection to two church related incidents this week in other states. These, too, are fodder for debate as some see the hand of Trump supporters, while others insist that it’s agitators who oppose the President-elect.

There are calls for unity juxtaposed with other calls to fight and obstruct. There are (more) sweeping generalizations about those who think differently than we do, and assumptions about what our vote says about us and what your vote says about you.  I have preached three times in the last week, twice the day after the election, and in every case I’ve tried to direct others, and myself, towards the overarching realities and teachings of our faith. The human back and forth that demonizes and distrusts the other will ultimately not get us anywhere. The tendency to separate ourselves and divide ourselves is just too strong and so easy to surrender to.

In the midst of our division, we blame one another for it. The blame has been placed on the shoulders of our current president, our president-elect, on conservatives and liberals, and everything in between. The truth of the matter is that we are naturally divisive by nature. World history and contemporary cultures show us that division is a human trait that exists in all times and places where humans live together. I don’t think we can honestly blame one another for it.  Instead, I think we have to admit our own responsibility for it. Jesus said something pertinent about specks and logs in this regard.

As I said in Sunday’s sermon, I have learned that we don’t really understand one another. If we are in shock at the results, we haven’t been listening. If we don’t understand the fear and the dread after the outcome, we haven’t been listening. We don’t know each other’s stories. We too easily dismiss the experience of another if it doesn’t match our own. We can’t talk about racism because some claim it doesn’t exist. Or we write off our opponents assuming they are uneducated and simple, instead of hearing their pain or their viewpoint. The only thing that will get us beyond such stances is to push through them and make a point to broaden our understanding and keep our eyes and ears open…especially when our long held assumptions are being challenged.

I have work to do in this regard. To that end I have personally committed myself to reading up on the experience of the white working class in rural and industrial areas and the experience of African Americans as a start. These are two communities that feel left behind and forsaken by their countrymen, and I’d like to understand both more fully. My first two texts are Hillbilly Elegy by J.D. Vance and Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates. These and other books should be on my porch by the end of the week. I am also going to commit to having serious, direct conversation with those who think differently than me, not in an effort to change their minds or spout off with my own wisdom, but to learn from them, about that person and about myself in the process. I’m also going to commit to the common good - to admitting when an idea is good, no matter where it comes from. I am also going to continue to stand up for what is right and just on behalf of all persons.

Members of various minority groups are anxious and afraid about the future because of promises made on the campaign trail, and because of a tacit endorsement of fringe ideas and mindsets, particularly around race. I, like many, hope it was just strong rhetoric; though that is bad enough. If and when the dignity of any brother or sister is diminished, the Church cannot remain silent. Protecting the weak, the outcast, and the marginalized is central to the Gospel and supersedes most other mandates.  Commentaries from religious leaders, including our own, have echoed these hallmarks of our faith, most of which are spelled out in our baptismal covenant, and cearly in the Gospels. (You can read Presiding Bishop Curry’s most recent statement here.)

I am in full agreement that it is time for us to come together and find a way forward, so long as that way forward honors all people and their full humanity. Time will tell to what extent leaders of both parties in Washington are committed to working together to achieve progress around healthcare reform, immigration reform, infrastructure, and job-creating policies. Goodness know we need some progress in all of these areas. We cannot afford to stay divided, red and blue, and govern without compromise. All or nothing politics is what has created the broken system that so many voters decried in this election. 

While they do their part, we can do our part. Perhaps you can join me in a period of exploration and learning? What could you read with an open mind even though it may challenge you? Who do you know who disagrees with you, but with whom you could have a dialogue – not an argument? What news sources might you consult regularly to hear what others are thinking and saying? Where are the places in life where your thinking is rigid and dogmatic, and why is it like that? (Some things can be appropriately rigid.) How have you noticed your thinking differs from your children and your grandchildren, or their generation? Have you talked about that, or just made assumptions? What are the elements of your own party or your own affiliations that give you a little pause, and what might that mean?

We are called to unity and reconciliation, and both of those are two-way streets. If our idea of unity is when everyone thinks our way, we need to admit that we really don’t seek unity. Reconciliation is not a code word for playing nice and pretending everything is ok. It involves honest back and forth and introspection to understand ourselves and others and how we impact one another.  Reconciliation is hard work. Archbishop Tutu has described reconciliation as work that does not leave us unchanged, but better persons on the other side of it. Think of your upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.  Will you be gathered with family and friends who have a diverse set of beliefs? Are you dreading any kind of political discussion? What if you worked at a reconciling conversation and entered into conversation in the hope that you would be a better person by the time you get to the pumpkin pie? I don’t know how likely that is to happen, but it’s a start. 

Tom+

God of all nations, Father of the human family, we give you thanks for the freedom we exercise and the many blessings of democracy we enjoy in these United States of America. We ask for your protection and guidance for all who devote themselves to the common good, working for justice and peace at home and around the world. We lift up all our duly elected leaders and public servants, those who will serve us as president, as legislators and judges, those in the military and law enforcement. Heal us from our differences and unite us, O Lord, with a common purpose, dedication, and commitment to achieve liberty and justice in the years ahead for all people, and especially those who are most vulnerable in our midst. Amen.                      Cardinal Adam Maida