The current tenor of the presidential campaign has become disturbing. Negative political campaigning is not new in the United States. Historians can point back to the early 19th century to find negative (and untrue) claims made about opponents.
This year feels different and, in ways, frightening. On the one side we hear angry outbursts against Barack Obama at Republican rallies, including reports of people yelling "Kill him!" On the other side, people at Democratic rallies boo when they hear John McCain's name and some are accusing McCain of being the next George Wallace.
These reactions are caused to some extent by current political ads and accusations. According to an article in today's Wall Street Journal online edition ("Hopes Quickly Fade for a Postpartisan Era"), Democrats are accusing the McCain campaign of character assassination and Republicans are increasing security at campaign offices because of acts of vandalism and intimidation by Obama supporters.
While the line between reality and misperception is very blurry here, I believe the cause of so much unrest runs deeper than the current political campaign. Both the campaign and the uncertain times in which we live stoke the fire of fear and anxiety about the unknown or the unfamiliar. The still burning embers of discrimination and prejudice kindles the rage and hopelessness that can make some feel trapped while they watch others prosper.
Pollster Peter Hart, quoted in the article referenced above, asks a profound question: "How do you knit a nation back together with this kind of animosity?"
I'd really like to answer this question by pointing to the Church. Perhaps you might remember that old song which I sang growing up, "They will know we are Christians by our love." For years I said that one of the characteristics I appreciated about Anglicans was our willingness and ability to hold together a variety of theological and doctrinal perspectives within a common practice of worship and community. I believed the Anglican Communion stood as a witness of unity to the rest of the Church and the world.
For anyone who has been paying attention the past few years, the Anglican Communion is hardly a witness of unity. Anglicans seem to be caught in the same cycle of fear, anxiety, anger, and accusation that characterizes the presidential campaign. I'd like to claim that we are at least a bit more polite when we point the finger at "the other side" but I'm not sure that's true.
Paraphrasing Archbishop Desmond Tutu (who once wrote of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict that he was not optimistic about peace but, because of his Christian faith, he was hopeful), I'll write here that I'm not optimistic about how we knit our nation together or how we restore the Anglican Communion ... but I am hopeful.
My hope is found not in the larger society or communion, but in my local congregation. In a recent forum discussion on a Sunday morning a group of parishioners and I listed the variety of ways we are diverse here in Exeter. While on the surface most of us look the same (this part of New Hampshire is about 96% white) when we dig deeper we find a great many differences in background, family status, economic status, worldviews, and theological perspectives (just to name a few).
Despite our differences, we seem to have found a way to be in community with each other. I'd love to list the reasons for that, but I'm not sure I can, not in a simple way at least. In a variety of ways we manage to hold together the community while also remaining open to what is new and possible. We both maintain the boundaries and live inclusively. We are certainly not perfect and we have had our low points. People have come into the community and people have left. Through it all, we just keep trying.
So, how do you knit a nation back together with this kind of animosity?
I always find these words from the letter to the Colossians a helpful reminder.
As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:12-17)
What might happen if we lived this way? What difference might it make? I'm not sure I'm optimistic, so I'll stick with hope. And next time I'm in conversation with someone with whom I disagree, I'll start trying to follow these words myself.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Despite Disappointment, All Will Be Well
Living faithfully in the 21st century village can be especially challenging when our hopes our dashed, whether that disappointment comes from a person, a group, or an institution. As human beings, we place our trust and hope in others. When they don't live up to our expectations, it can put cracks in our faith.
I'm pondering this because of the quick and dramatic demise of the Chicago Cubs in the postseason. The team's failure probably should not be a surprise. After all, the Cubs have not won the World Series since 1908 and have not even been in the Series since 1945. However, this season the Cubs were 97-64, the best record in the National League. They won the Central Division for the second year in a row (the only time they've managed that), and they had strong pitching and some excellent hitters. Being 100 years since their last World Series win, this seemed like it could be a magical year.
Of course, it didn't happen. As I went to bed on Saturday night as the game started (10:00 Eastern time, too late for me when I need to get up early on Sunday), I heard my son's anguish in the first inning at the game started to fall apart. Although game 3 of the series against the Dodgers may have been the best game the Cubs played, the result was no different. They lost the game and the series. They are done.
As fans of the Red Sox will know from the years prior to 2004, this is heartbreaking. It isn't simply that the Cubs lost. It is the way they did it: errors, walks, and poor hitting. They played their worst games of the year in the games that counted the most.
So, those of us who are Cubs fans are facing another long winter of disappointment. "Wait 'til next year" is not comforting at times like this. Our faith and hope in the Cubs has been cracked and they will need to earn it all over again.
Having just written that, I can already feel myself pondering the hope that comes in February with the beginning of Spring Training. There will be a next year and whether the Cubs win it next year or not, ultimately fans need to believe that it is possible.
So, what does this have to do with living faithfully in the world? What it says to me is that earthly things will often disappoint us. Everything in this world is fallible. That is why we need something or someone in whom we can place our ultimate trust.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes about the difference between that which is perishable and that which is imperishable (see chapter 15). To put it another way, he is comparing the earthly with the heavenly. The earthly is perishable, it will fall away. The heavenly is imperishable, it will continue eternally.
As a Christian, I need to understand that when I place my trust in the Cubs or anything in this world, I am likely to be disappointed at some point. We are all human, after all. However, when I place my trust in Jesus, I am placing my trust in the One who is the bridge between the perishable and the imperishable. Jesus, human and divine, will not let me down (he may not do everything the way I want, but he won't disappoint me and he certainly won't "lose the series in dramatic fashion").
As Paul writes, "But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:57-58).
So, the Cubs blew it. I'm disappointed and it will be hard to trust them next year. But I'll regain my hope because life is more than the Cubs. That's why I need to be a Christian. So I can look at the world and trust, to use the words of Julian of Norwich, that someday "all will be well."
I'm pondering this because of the quick and dramatic demise of the Chicago Cubs in the postseason. The team's failure probably should not be a surprise. After all, the Cubs have not won the World Series since 1908 and have not even been in the Series since 1945. However, this season the Cubs were 97-64, the best record in the National League. They won the Central Division for the second year in a row (the only time they've managed that), and they had strong pitching and some excellent hitters. Being 100 years since their last World Series win, this seemed like it could be a magical year.
Of course, it didn't happen. As I went to bed on Saturday night as the game started (10:00 Eastern time, too late for me when I need to get up early on Sunday), I heard my son's anguish in the first inning at the game started to fall apart. Although game 3 of the series against the Dodgers may have been the best game the Cubs played, the result was no different. They lost the game and the series. They are done.
As fans of the Red Sox will know from the years prior to 2004, this is heartbreaking. It isn't simply that the Cubs lost. It is the way they did it: errors, walks, and poor hitting. They played their worst games of the year in the games that counted the most.
So, those of us who are Cubs fans are facing another long winter of disappointment. "Wait 'til next year" is not comforting at times like this. Our faith and hope in the Cubs has been cracked and they will need to earn it all over again.
Having just written that, I can already feel myself pondering the hope that comes in February with the beginning of Spring Training. There will be a next year and whether the Cubs win it next year or not, ultimately fans need to believe that it is possible.
So, what does this have to do with living faithfully in the world? What it says to me is that earthly things will often disappoint us. Everything in this world is fallible. That is why we need something or someone in whom we can place our ultimate trust.
In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes about the difference between that which is perishable and that which is imperishable (see chapter 15). To put it another way, he is comparing the earthly with the heavenly. The earthly is perishable, it will fall away. The heavenly is imperishable, it will continue eternally.
As a Christian, I need to understand that when I place my trust in the Cubs or anything in this world, I am likely to be disappointed at some point. We are all human, after all. However, when I place my trust in Jesus, I am placing my trust in the One who is the bridge between the perishable and the imperishable. Jesus, human and divine, will not let me down (he may not do everything the way I want, but he won't disappoint me and he certainly won't "lose the series in dramatic fashion").
As Paul writes, "But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain" (1 Corinthians 15:57-58).
So, the Cubs blew it. I'm disappointed and it will be hard to trust them next year. But I'll regain my hope because life is more than the Cubs. That's why I need to be a Christian. So I can look at the world and trust, to use the words of Julian of Norwich, that someday "all will be well."
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