"I solemnly swear that I am up to ... good" (if you'll pardon the HP reference)

"We The People" by Shepard Fairey

Yesterday I encouraged my Facebook friends in a National Day of Prayer. (I wasn’t the only one. Rev. Dr. Susan Henry-Crowe of the UMC's General Board of Church & Society sent a prayer that began, “As we welcome President Trump and say goodbye to President Obama, we pray for the world, the Church, and all of God's creation.”)

I thought I’d again try Julie Cameron’s idea of Morning Pages, “three pages of longhand, stream of consciousness writing, done first thing in the morning.” I’m no artist but years ago, I took away this idea and one about Artist’s Dates from her The Artist’s Way. So far I’ve made it one day … hmmm …

I’ve reworked some excerpts from yesterday’s sabbath day/inauguration day journaling. This may mirror or contrast your own thinking but I offer it for your reflection.

I was going to write about “my greatest fear” and it was going to be personal, yet how can I write about myself? What is huge for me is insignificant for almost everyone else.

O God, move this man. Do to him as Samuel told Saul (1 Samuel 10). Make him a changed man that he may come away compassionate and strongly motivated to care for all and not just some.

I know we’ve made our bed and now we have to sleep in it. I believe wholeheartedly that while all things happen for reasons, this consequence is of our own making. Too long have “we” behaved as if we are better than whomever we see as inferior. Throughout this nation’s life, we’ve grown rich and powerful by giving in to this sin – and yes, this is sin for it distances us from our fellow creatures, and so from God. Surely, we didn’t truly believe that brown-skinned bipeds were not as human as we were, yet it was convenient and served our purposes to pretend otherwise. So we actively worked for genocide and slavery. The consequences of these actions haunt all of us today.

Maybe we thought the nation had worked through our problems in the 60s and 70s. But the hatred did not end; it only went underground. People’s affirming response to Mr. Trump’s bigotry and sexism (to put it mildly) shocked and saddened me. I never expected this election’s outcome. I’m still somewhat shocked but the grief has lessened.

I am white. I’m progressive. I believe in a God who passionately loves ALL of creation. My response to that love compels me now to be as vocal as I can be for the sake of:

• All who believe God is selective in their love*

• All who fear, whether because they are not white, heterosexual, culturally Christian, flag-waving, passively accepting…

• All who think that it’ll all pass over and we should just roll with the flow

• … I’m sure there are others I’m forgetting…

I’ve talked for the last two months about how Mr. Trump’s campaign and subsequent election has had one good result: it has let us know that hatred and anger are alive and well. They’re out in the open now. And while my heart cries for my friends who live in uncertainty – if not fear – it’s much easier to contend with a problem we can see and hear than with a hidden one.

Peter Leyden posted a reframing of the political situations in which we (and the world) find ourselves. Leyden posits that Mr. Trump’s Inauguration is, rather than being the end of all that’s good, making room for what is better. This presidency and Brexit “are going to make for some near-term chaos, but in the end I actually think they are going to accelerate changes that finally need to come.”

Most people don’t like change. Yet change is truly the only constant. (Death is after all change.) Change is now, this week. And change can be healthy. In what ways will you strive toward change that will lead to a better tomorrow?

* I claim the language of the 20-somethings who use gender-neutral pronouns in healthy ways you and I never learned in school.

Thank you, Sojourners.
https://sojo.net/articles/weve-got-month-until-inauguration-day-heres-what-we-can-do-right-now