Brave, Anyway

Tag: politics

  • Embers of Hope

    And we still don’t know, just as I suspected. And yet just as I dreaded. We may not know the outcome of the presidential election for quite some time, but we do know this: many of our neighbors and friends that we have categorized as good people because they are nice to us have in them the ability to support racism and the mistreatment of women and children. I will never understand how someone can say they are a Christian and support someone who so blatantly is not.

    My heart is heavy.

    I did not expect a landslide and yet my heart had this hope I was afraid to ever voice. It hoped that there was goodness in more people than I believed. That their goodness would rise up and stand for their neighbor. That their faith would rise up and say this behavior is not right and not what Jesus would do.

    It still matters to me who wins. But my faith in the goodness of people took another huge hit in the last 24 hours.

    Election day 2020 in my RBG sweatshirt. Not pictured: oldest jeans I own and furry pink slippers.
  • What is Great?

    What is Great?

    I want America to be great. But sometimes that’s hard to even visualize when I look at where we are today.

    What does great even mean? That word has been co-opted by people wearing red hats and I’m not even sure that the majority of them can define the greatness we used to have that we supposedly need to get back to.

    Does great mean when we had prayer in schools? I think that’s what a lot of well-meaning Christians are holding on to. Prayer in schools is the panacea for drugs, pregnancy outside of marriage, respect for elders, vandalism, anger, and a thousand other things. But it’s not prayer in schools that’s going to fix those things. It’s prayer in our homes. In our cars at a stop light. In line at the market. And most importantly, in our hearts. “Prayer in schools” as the reason America has gone to hell in a hand basket is such a cop out – if you really want to point fingers, the end of prayer in schools began when we largely gave up on prayer in our homes and in our hearts.

    Does great mean before Roe v. Wade? Because abortion wasn’t invented in the twentieth century. It’s been around since the beginning of time, in the form of herbs and bloodletting and a dozen other precarious methods. And if Roe v. Wade is overturned it will still be around and practiced just as it is today, and just as it was before that Supreme Court decision – managed by individual states.

    Does great mean when women couldn’t own a home without a man’s signature? When men had a lot more “say” in everything? Or perhaps great refers to the time before Brown v. Board of Education or before the civil rights movement? Or does great mean before the immigration of people from non-white nations? Or maybe great means when the number of young people signing up to join the military was higher, when we were in the Cold War or just after September 11? I am a child of a veteran, I support our military, and tears still fill my eyes every time I see families waiting on piers for loved ones to come home. But sometimes I wonder if we are really a country that loves our military (wouldn’t we pay them more if we did?), or if we are more of a country of people that just loves to rally around a conflict and that live vicariously through the young people kicking some ass somewhere out there.

    I’ve yet to hear anyone who wants America to be great “again” define it in a way that makes sense to me, except for the people solely focused on money. And while I don’t agree on trickle down economics and tax cuts for wealthy people, at least they are real about their motives and I can respect that.

    I want America to be great. Not “again” though, because I think maybe it hasn’t ever been great for a lot of Americans. It’s been great for me, but I’m white and didn’t grow up in poverty or oppression. Part of being a good human, and part of being a good Christian for those of us that are people of faith, is not just caring about self. It’s also recognizing when other humans need help and providing that help if possible. And perhaps most importantly for today, it’s recognizing when other humans are discriminated against – by authority figures, by neighbors or colleagues, by laws and by systems – and standing against that. Setting WWJD aside, we should all be concerned about discrimination in any form against any American because history has taught us over and over again that if we allow discrimination against anyone, we risk being discriminated against as seasons change.

    As far as I can tell, “Make America Great Again” is about loving your neighbor if your neighbor looks and loves and prays like you, but sends cursory thoughts and prayers to everyone else. It’s a way to hide behind canned talking points because of motives surrounding faith and race and gender we don’t want to acknowledge, let alone speak about.

    Maybe this election cycle is more vicious and divisive because of who walks the halls of the White House and Capitol, maybe it’s because we’re actually at a tipping point morally, maybe it’s because we’ve all been quarantined and are just cranky and combative, or maybe it’s a combination of all of it. But I’m so tired of it all. I’m tired of “good” people – Christians especially – perpetuating the self-serving and idiotic belief that real Christians vote red and actively participating in or turning a blind eye to all the discrimination in this country. People are supposed to see Jesus through us, and we’re supporting and pointing them to politicians and programs and systems that do not reflect the love with which we are supposed to be filled.

    I’ve been reading Jesus for President by Shane Claiborne. I love how he characterizes the job of the disciples: “It wasn’t a call to take the sword or the throne and force the world to bow. Rather, they were to live the contagious love of God, to woo the nations into a new future.”

    I want America to be a place where all my neighbors – especially our nation’s veterans and children and elderly – have food and shelter and medicine. I recognize that’s a bit of a pipe dream given our current financials but is that so much to ask that we work toward? Why would those basics even be tied to one political party instead of core tenets of all political parties? I don’t care if your shirt has a donkey or an elephant on it, I have and will vote for you if you can show me you believe in the equality of all people, that you haven’t purposely mistreated people, and that you have empathy for people not like you.

    We have to stop being afraid of one another, of differences. We have to catch and stop when deeply rooted beliefs of favor or better rear their ugly heads in our hearts. We can love, and are called to love, our neighbor regardless of how different they are so that people see love through us, regardless of whether we are a Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jew, or Hindu.

    If we allow ourselves to continue to buy into canned talking points and excuses, which we tell ourselves and others to make us feel better, we will never actually work to make anything great. We need to start accepting responsibility for all the beliefs and generalizations and fears that we secretly harbor about people who are not like us, for all that we’re voting for, for all that we’re voting against, and for all we’ve been allowing.

    Sydney Ellen Wade, played by Annette Benning in The American President, said exactly how I’ve been feeling for months and maybe years: “How do you have patience for people who claim they love America, but clearly can’t stand Americans?”

    Our vote is never just for a policy we’re passionate about, it’s for the whole person whose name we choose. No matter our choice, some things about that person will be good and some will be bad. But we can’t say we’re voting just to save unborn babies or for health care, and think that absolves us of responsibility as it relates to supporting the character and integrity of the person we chose.

  • It’s Not Me, It’s You

    It’s Not Me, It’s You

    What if the one to blame is actually me? Or us? What if what we think is the fault of others is actually the fault of ours?

    We and us are Christians. Me, and maybe you.

    I’ve spent a lot of my adult life retraining my brain to not first think of God as the Old Testament punishment guy. He is the Old Testament angry guy, but He is also the New Testament love and peace and turn-the-other-cheek guy – and perhaps most importantly the forgiveness guy.

    We are in a crazy time right now in the United States. COVID, racial injustice, unemployment, hurricanes, fires. It seems like our nation is under attack. And, indeed, it may be.

    How’d we get here, and who’s to blame? Is it the radical left? The radical right? The looters or the KKK? Most of us live somewhere in the middle, and yet it seems like all of our talk is only about the folks on the fringe.

    We can’t ever allow ourselves to forget that the folks on the fringe are not and will not ever be in control unless we have allowed them to be. That’s the power of the middle, especially when it’s the size that it is. And perhaps our main issue right now is that many of us don’t see each other as fellow citizens, or as comrades, in that powerful force that is the middle.

    I am so very tired of hearing Christians say we need to turn back or we need to change our ways or we need to focus on values – with the implication or even the clear and intentional statement that if we don’t, our country is doomed to fall or fail.

    Maybe that’s correct, actually. But here’s the thing: when Christians say that, they are always pointing the finger at others. The implication in the statement is that others who sin need to turn from their way. Others who don’t go to church or don’t go to a church like ours need to get with the actual God program. Others need to have politics like ours. Others who are gay need to be straight. Others who have abortions need to stop. Others who commit adultery need to not do that. Others who protest need to be thankful for what they do have and love their country more.

    What about us? The Christians. Perhaps we should turn that pointing finger back at ourselves. What if the reason this nation is struggling is because we – the Christians – have set a very bad example in this supposed Christian nation.

    What if the issue is our failure to show Christ to the world? That we haven’t been the hands and feet. That we have failed to love our neighbor as ourselves. That we have failed to lead with love. That we have failed to be the light. That we have failed to forgive and have empathy and show compassion. That we have failed to live by the ten commandments. That we have put other gods before Him. That we have made idols. That we have supported and elected leaders who live in ways very contrary to the tenets of Christianity. That we have failed to preach and live the actual gospel. That we have been disobedient. That we have failed to take a stand when we should. That we have failed to recognize and act when some of our fellow citizens, including our fellow Christians, have not been treated fairly.

    Tweet that moved me most this week:
    Stop using Dr. King as an example of a peaceful protest…you shot him, too.

    What if WE are the issue? What if what we’re doing or not doing is to blame? Because as Christians, we have a responsibility that’s clearly outlined in Luke 12:48. To whom much is given, much will be required. We are and will be held responsible for what we have been given.

    We’ve been acting like the sinners are always the others. The sinners are us, too.

    We’ve been acting like we are above reproach because we are believers, when actually we’re more accountable because we know better.

    We’ve been acting like everyone should believe and behave like we do because we’re better, when the reality is that we’re not behaving very well at all. And worse, everyone sees it.

    I believe Jesus, if He were walking on two human legs in America today, might be found walking amongst that big crowd in the middle, in the group made up of most of us. There are differences in how we believe and look and think and act, but we commonly seek a place of peace and safety and healing. And perhaps he’d be speaking words like these, appropriate two thousand years ago and still today: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”

    There is surely Jesus in many Republicans and in many Democrats and in many Libertarians and in many Green supporters and in many people who don’t vote at all. Any suggestion that Jesus would side with a certain political party in America is simply a lie. Any suggestion that the fault for where we are lies with the others is a half-truth. The truth is always somewhere in the middle.

    Seeing God in America is one of my favorite devotionals right now. From a reflection on Maroon Bells, Colorado: “A murky, weed-choked pond won’t give back a reflection of even the mightiest mountains that tower nearby. But a clean, calm lake surface will shine out with the image of the majesty that surrounds it.”
  • Super Tuesday in Virginia

    Super Tuesday in Virginia

    We voted this morning. Taking our time, reading every name on the ballot with me whispering explanations about what I liked/disliked about each candidate and why who can win is sometimes just as important as who should win.

    Our children need to see and hear us talk about real issues, and know that we think and we research – not just that we blindly support a party or a person. Most importantly, I want Audrey to see and know that I will always vote for candidates who support her and the thousands of kids who will eventually enter adulthood with some sort of pre-existing condition.

    We talked about everything from socialism to racism to sexism, in littler words. She asked Are there people who won’t vote for a girl? Yes. And it made me sad to answer.

    But in only the way she can, Audrey summed up voting on Super Tuesday with this question/statement: So basically, though, we really don’t care as long as it’s not Trump. Yes. And, again, it made me sad to answer. It makes me sad that we have a leader I wouldn’t leave my children alone with for even 30 minutes because he’s such a poor example of humanity. I have voted red, blue, and Ross Perot, and have never felt that way until now.

    No candidate and no person is perfect, and yet I have always had this desire to really believe in the people I vote for. At the same time, it’s very often hard to find someone that doesn’t have skeletons and wasn’t at some point on the wrong side of an issue. But it’s never, ever been easier to vote for someone, anyone, as a comparison to what we have now.

  • Good Humans in the Middle

    Good Humans in the Middle

    It’s Presidents’ Day, and this year we’re going to elect a President. As I’ve gotten older, our choice of leadership has seemed more and more important – not just because I think we chose so poorly last time, but also because 20 years ago I would have told you that I wasn’t sure all our votes were counted. I guess five key things have changed since those days:

    1. I became a mother, and now I feel the responsibility to do something about the world my girls live in.
    2. I have encountered children, including one of my own, who will be categorized as pre-existing condition when they reach adulthood and will desperately need health care after their parents can no longer cover them.
    3. I have seen first-hand how the privileged have access to better everything. Better legal services. Better education. Better health care. Better chances of getting a second chance. Better chances at being given the benefit of the doubt. Money and education make a huge difference in the kind of treatment and care people have access to, and ultimately their odds of survival and their quality of life.
    4. The world has changed. People with guns enter places that used to be safe and they take the lives of others, including our nation’s children.
    5. Al Gore lost the presidency, and I truly started to believe that votes are counted and they matter.

    The more I think about this coming election and all the craziness in our country right now, and the more I encounter people of all backgrounds and who vote in a variety of ways, the more I’m convinced that the majority of America is not represented by what we see in Washington and what we see on the news. The majority of us are not just right or left, or Republican or Democrat, or liberal or conservative. The majority of us are somewhere in the middle, in an area defined by shades instead of absolutes. Our life experiences move our political needle, and hopefully also our empathy needle, as we make mistakes or get to know people not like us or get a diagnosis or someone we love is hurt.

    But the candidates we’re presented with right now seem to either fall at the far sides, where the absolutes reside, or act like they do simply to secure votes.

    It’s absolutely crazy to me that someone would say that any political party has no room for someone who believes differently. You can’t be a Democrat if you believe abortion is wrong? Or you can’t be a Republican if you think access to guns should have limits?

    That. Is. Stupid.

    And incredibly short-sighted.

    You know what else is crazy and short-sighted? Our thoughts on instances or events have suddenly started getting us lumped into an absolute value type of category.

    I can see a video of police brutality and think the officer in it is an asshole while also believing in the goodness of other law enforcement officers. I can kneel during the national anthem and still love America and care about our military and be thankful for their sacrifice. I can think that abortion is wrong and still respect the right of others to make different choices or even just believe that government should not have control over those sorts of things.

    You can vote Republican and believe in restrictions for assault rifles or funding for climate solutions. You can vote Democrat and believe in prayer in schools or not want federal funding for Planned Parenthood.

    What most of us can agree on, I think, is what makes a good person. Someone who is kind, who tries their best, looks for the truth, helps others, has empathy, and does the right thing when no one is looking. We are not all ever going to agree on the issues of the day, but it seems like we could at least agree on the need for our country’s leaders to be good humans – and to vote accordingly. In all the years I’ve voted I have never seen so many good people get caught up on opposite sides instead of focusing on the simplicity of who’s qualified and who’s a good human?

    This is not the time to not vote. It’s not the time to stick our heads in the sand and worry about our hair while we let the rest of America figure this out. As the old saying goes if we don’t stand for something, we’ll fall for absolutely anything – and that’s true in our personal lives, in our professional lives, and in our politics.

    It shocks me how many people can listen to our current President and think there’s a good human. Set the political issues aside – really look at a person who laughed about grabbing and mistreating women, who belittled the family members of a fallen soldier, who made fun of a former POW, and who made fun of someone with a disability. I challenge you to then look at yourself in the mirror and say I want my children to be like him or I aspire to be like him.

    A number of people, including our current president, are interviewing for the job of leader of our country. It’s our job to decide who gets that job and that decision is not just about key metrics, but also, and most importantly, about each candidate’s goodness or lack of it.

    The supreme quality for leadership is integrity.
    Dwight D. Eisenhower