We voted! Now what?

One of the fascinating things about having the classroom in my living room has been the window into what teachers and students talk about and how teachers are building a classroom culture and community. It's also been a huge learning experience for me in pedagogy. How do you respond to questions? How do you encourage taking turns? How do affirm ideas and encourage critical thinking.

This week and last, I've been listening in on the Southshore kindergarteners talking about voting and the election. They started with the book Grace for President, in which Grace notices that there are no women in the row of pictures of presidents, decides to run for president of her class and then shows her leadership ability through her contributions to her school and community.

The kindergarteners were encouraged to notice in the words and pictures the kind of person Grace is, what good leadership looks like, how her words matched her actions. In subsequent days their class moved on to comparing real life candidates. First for Washington's 37th district and then for president. She presented points of the candidates platforms and then the children were invited to think about who they would vote for. I appreciate the respect that our schools teachers have for children's opinions and the way they encourage them to say more, ask questions and challenge each other - even in kindergarten.

Two years ago I wrote about voting and the election with annoyance. I was annoyed both because at the time I couldn't vote and because I was frustrated with what I felt was the implication that voting is the only way one can participate in democracy or enact change. My opinion has changed somewhat - at least a little and at least in part because I can vote now - but I stand by a few of the things I said then.

What has changed in 2020 is that, yes I can vote now but also there truly is much more at stake. What hasn't changed is my understanding how much more there is to engaging in change for justice than voting. I think this is a message particularly important for children and youth to hear. After all, they can't vote. And yet their voices are so important to our communities. Even kindergarteners have opinions about what's important. And they can march and make signs and write reps and get educated and post to social media.

The other thing that hasn't changed and that will never change is that nationhood is not what defines us as followers of Jesus. And it's our desire for a just peace is rooted in the Biblical call to justice. And that something that none of our kids aren't going to get in their classrooms, no matter how well they're being formed as citizens.

It's up to us as families and as a church family to tell the stories of Jesus and other biblical characters who interrupted for the sake of justice: Jesus' crossing boundaries to sit with the woman at the well and telling stories of good Samaritans. Peter sharing God's love with the Ethiopian eunuch. The prophets demanding justice that rolls like water. Whatever this week brings, our work as citizens and as disciples continues in our families and in our communities. May God bless us in this holy calling.

Between Voting and Veteran's Day

This coming Sunday is Veteran’s Day. For students in some schools it’s reason for military assemblies and recruitment. For many working folks, it’s a day off, intended to honor and recognized the lives of military veterans and courageous acts in wartime. But this is also the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day, from which Veteran’s Day was born. The intention of the original Armistice Day was literally a laying down of arms; remembering the cost of war and violence and working toward a peaceful future.

I shake my head to think of where the world - and especially the United States - has come since that armistice treaty and its commitment to work peaceably with neighbors worldwide. That first world war was, of course, not the war to end all wars. The United States has become the dominant global military power and the proportion of military spending in this country equals half its discretionary budget.

Having just come through another election in the US, it seems to me that progressives - including Christians, including peace-loving and justice-seeking Mennonites who would favor a reclaiming of the non-violent message of armistice - lean heavily into the idea that a vote equals a voice. Through our votes, the idea goes, we can make change and begin to align our Christian ideals with the society we live in. I did not vote in this election. Most folks know after this many years of ministry that I can’t vote because I am not (yet) a citizen. Does that mean that I don’t have a voice?

I am glad that this election is over if for no other reason than I will no longer have to see in all my social media feeds and in advertising the urge to vote, Vote, VOTE!! While I wouldn’t say it’s painful, I would say it’s a little irritating. People are not voting for many reasons. A few by choice or religious conviction - as our Anabaptist ancestors had - that our allegiance is to Christ alone (more about this in Pastor Megan’s most recent sermon). A few from disgust or apathy. But many people who would like to vote are disenfranchised, because like me they are immigrants. Because they are in jail or have committed a felony. Because of unreasonable voting requirements that amount to voter suppression.

Folks, I’m glad that those of you who could vote did. Theologian and leader Drew Hart, who identifies as an ‘Anablacktivist’ tweeted this on election day, “Voting won't usher shalom into the world, but it can curb the injustice & limit the dominance of powerful people seeking to harm the least and last of society. That's why I vote, and then continue the hard work 365 days of the year.” So I am celebrating the strides forward in representation made by women, people of color, including indigenous folk, LGBTQ representatives and leaders. And I don’t assume that just because I didn’t vote I don’t have a voice to raise for the sake of peace, for the sake of shalom building this Veteran’s Day and beyond.

Be thou my vision

Every night I hold a sleepy toddler and sing, “Be thou my vision, oh Lord of my heart.” This has been my go-to bedtime song for almost ten years now. But I found that last night, while election results were already rolling in ominously from the living room, these were the words I needed. And they were the words I needed to sing into the ear of my child. Words that are reminders of where our faith and hope really lie.

I have often turned to Psalm 146 in times of both fear of and expectation in system, leaders and government. It is a reminder that our hope lies not in princes (or presidents) but in the one who ‘created heaven and earth’ and who keeps faith forever. It is a jubilee song and we need a jubilee hope.

The Lord sets the prisoners free;
     the Lord opens the eyes of the blind.
The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;
     the Lord loves the righteous.
The Lord watches over the strangers,
     upholds the orphan and the widow,
     but the way of the wicked the Lord brings to ruin.

Both Clinton and Caine quoted scripture in their concession messages this morning. But we know that the Reign of God is not subject to the reigns and regimes of the world, however benevolent, and it may not be co-opted. The Reign of God is proclaimed most powerfully by Jesus, who never doubted his belovedness, who never doubted God’s faithfulness, and who loved and taught us how to faithfully love our neighbor and our enemy. He persisted in proclaiming God’s reign in the midst of injustice, fear, hatred and oppression.

May we hear belovedness sung into our ears and may we sing the song for those who cannot or do not hear it elsewhere. May we remember God’s faithfulness and respond with our own. May we remember God’s great love by responding with our own love in word and in action. May our hope and vision be in our love and the in love of our creator.

“Heart of my heart, whatever befall. Still be my vision, o ruler of all.”