This is a long blog but today I write. Yesterday I tried to spend the day caring for myself and those I heard and saw who were struggling with fear, pain, and grief. I write, in large part, because it is in this atmosphere I process my own thoughts and feelings. For me in this moment such processing is important because of all the fear and pain I see in the world around me.
I am a political junky, I suppose not to the extent of many, but I have long loved to read about, see, study, and watch the political process unfold. It is an interesting place to be as a clergy person who is staunchly committed to the separation of church and state. I often find myself dancing with that line between my own personal opinion and political passion and my role as pastor and religious leader in the church I serve and the broader world. But, for the most part I think I do well the dance along that line staying true to our founders and their passion for a freedom of and from religious privilege in our government while honoring the diverse expression of religious and non-religious belief and practice in our country.
And so, today, after a day of reflection, tears, prayer, reading, meditation, and pondering I want to share in my blog where I am. I share this not looking for debate or defense, but simply so those who care would know my heart and the pain and struggle I feel for those who are feeling isolated, targeted, and fearful.
Let me say first, in regards to the political, I understand diverse political views. I have been a member of both major political parties and in my thirty-nine years of voting I have rarely voted a straight ticket, always looking for the best possibility for fairness and justice. I understand we are not always going to agree on political stance and thought. For me, that is one of my loves of the process, to come together with diverse perspectives and try and find ways to work together for the common good, honoring our differences while lifting up and highlighting those places we can compromise and move forward.
So, that being said, while I voted for Hillary Clinton, I can still deal with and wrap my head around why there are those of my friends and acquaintances who voted for President Elect Donald Trump from a political ideological perspective. While I am sure we may passionately disagree in our political ideology and perspective, as I said earlier, that is the way our system works, and I believe one of the things that makes our system strong. And though I think we have lost some sense of the ability in our country to disagree civilly and respectfully while working together for the common good, I pray and work every day for that ideal.
My grief and struggle over the last few days, over the last year, is not about political ideology, though that is the context in which it was often born. What has broken my heart is borne out of my faith in God and my role as pastor as I witness the fear and pain that has been instilled because of the vitriol language, hatred, and bigotry that seems to have raised its ugly head in so many ways.
I am profoundly aware I need to temper my words so as to not assume I know or have experienced the kind of fear and hate many are feeling today because I do not and have not. I am white, male, and straight, and as such, I carry a certain amount of privilege. My responsibility is to listen and stand with those who have come to trust me enough to be vulnerable.
When I counsel, listen, weep with, and pray with those who have been the victims of sexual assault and feel that comments by Mr. Trump have fueled and normalized that kind of talk and abuse, and it brings all of that experience back for them, my heart is heavy.
When I counsel, listen, weep with, and pray with those who are lesbian, gay, trans-gender, bi-sexual, and queer who fear for their livelihood and their marriage and family because their rights have been promised to be reversed, my heart is heavy.
When I counsel, listen, weep with, and pray with immigrants and parents who are of a different color and national origin who had to comfort their children the morning after the election because their children feared they would be sent away, my heart is heavy.
When I counsel, listen, weep with, and pray with those who are disabled fear they will be mocked and chided even more than they have been in the past, my heart is heavy.
When I counsel, listen, weep with, and pray with persons of color who are made to feel less than simply because of the color of their skin, my heart is heavy.
When I sit in the Mosque and pray with my Muslim friends, brothers, and sisters and listen to their stories of hate filled language, suspicious looks, vandalism against their place of worship, and fear of their neighbors, my heart is heavy.
What breaks my heart, what has me grieving yet today, is not even so much about the one we have elected as our next president, but the racism, sexism, misogyny, Islamophobia, discrimination, bigotry, xenophobia, fear, and hatred that seems to have been unleashed in our country.
As I said earlier, while I would passionately disagree, I can understand and wrap my head around why someone would vote for this from a political ideological standpoint. What grieves my heart and soul is those I watch use their faith as a justification for that vote. That I cannot understand. My faith, my God, my Jesus would never condone voting for these kinds of abusive and fear laden beliefs. God is not a God of fear, but a God of love. Our faith should have no place for this kind of fear, indeed, it should cast it out!
Today as a clergy and religious leader, I am less upset about our political process as I am with our religious community. I point the finger at myself as well in this, where was the church? How could the church condone such hatred of the other, either by its blatant support or by its fearful silence? I hope and pray we will come together and advocate justice for all in a way where all means all!
We need to stand with those who are uncertain and fearful today. It is important to acknowledge and be sensitive to those who feel marginalized and how they might, justly, fear me, white, male, and straight, and Caucasian people in general, because they feel betrayed and have no idea who they can trust. We need to go out of our way to be kind and helpful and reach out and get to know them, even defend them. Whether we voted for Hillary or not, we are, at first glance, now judged as bigots, and unfortunately we now need to prove otherwise. It’s not their problem, we all have to own it to overcome it, and especially, I believe, the church.
While I am still grieving and heartbroken with the fear I see in my brothers and sisters lives who are uncertain of their future and place in our country, I am not defeated. I am reminded of the words of Paul in the Second Letter to the Corinthians as he encourages them, “But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.”
Those of us committed to justice, compassion, kindness, mercy, love, and humility, I pray, are even more committed today. As the mourning passes, we will rise, together! And we will stand with women, immigrants, persons of color, LGBTQ persons, the disabled, Muslims and all persons of religious faith as well as non-religious, persons of color, and all those who feel marginalized and targeted by prejudice and hate. May we all embrace the mandate from the prophet and Act Justly, Love Mercy, and Walk Humbly with our God. Justice for all will come. Love will prevail. It is my prayer. It is my passion. It is my life. Here I stand, I pray you will join me. May it be so.
Peace and Light for our Journey ahead –
Rev. Kent H. Little