From Goodbye to Oh, Hell No

Yes. It was worth it.

Waking up two teenage sons at 4:15 am on a Saturday morning to stand in line at 6 a.m. with family, friends, and thousands of strangers for two hours in hopes of a ticket was worth it (mainly because we were lucky to get tickets). While in line we noticed a Starbucks...closed. Why?Standing in line for hours before getting through security to even get into the venue to hear President Barack Hussein Obama say goodbye was worth it. Standing butt to belly button (thanks Melissa for a more colorful version of that phrase) waaaaaaaaaaay back from the podium to be there in the standing room where it happened was worth it.

It was worth it because it was good for my soul to be amongst people who did not agree with everything done under Obama’s two-term presidency, but wanted to be there and together to see and hear not just Obama but one another.

It was good to share that with my husband, sons and friend Tina because we occupy different generations, genders, social circles, and sometimes belief. It was worth sharing stories with our closest strangers in line about why they were hoping for tickets or where they drove in from to attend #ObamaFarewell. It was worth being reminded that the apocalypse had not yet arrived.

It was worth being in the room when President Obama was announced and welcomed to the podium and the crowd, incredibly diverse and patient, erupted into applause and for some tears. It was worth having my older son Corban lean on my shoulder and ask me if I was going to get emotional and tell him that I was already emotional.

It was worth the small risk of not getting a ticket, not getting close enough, not seeing the President of the United States up close to experience live his loving, respectful comments about his wife, his daughters, his vice president. It was worth knowing my sons heard and saw Obama speak tenderly, respectfully and honorably about his wife, about his daughters, about his colleague and friend. It was worth it.

It was worth thinking back to Obama’s win in 2008, which nudged me to consider applying for naturalization. It was worth remembering my first vote in a president election was for Obama in 2012 and my first vote in a presidential primary in 2016 was for Hillary Clinton. It was worth thinking about the sinking feeling as the election results came in…oh, hell no. No.

The energy was celebratory, hopeful, eager and it made me miss church which has too often in the past few years left me wondering where was and what was the Good News. It made me miss fellowship and communion because President Obama’s farewell address felt a bit like fellowship.

It was worth it.

So one week later I’m headed off to celebrate democracy and the peaceful transfer of power by marching with my daughter, friends, and thousands of strangers in the Women’s March on Washington the Saturday.

This is not to throw shade at those not marching for whatever reason, but I owe it to my Dear Readers to explain why I am marching in an imperfect march. I am opting in because I also know many of my friends can’t. Maybe they will march locally but others won’t or can’t. They can’t skip work. They don’t have the energy. They aren’t physically able without assurance from march organizers routes are accessible. I am opting in because I want to support my daughter Bethany and she wants to support me. I am opting in because the three white women who founded the event almost found out too late about intersectionality, so some of my friends and I are making sure we bring our imperfect intersectionality. I am opting in because no matter what happens at the inauguration the day before, I will not stand for a leader, any leader, who thinks grabbing any woman’s pussy is locker room talk. I am opting in because I am my sister’s and brother’s keeper even when it’s inconvenient. I am opting in because my relative space of privilege as a heterosexual married woman means fighting for the civil rights of my LGBTQ neighbors. I am opting in because the Bible has taught me that trusting and believing in God’s sovereignty is not the same as sitting back and not doing anything.

Not everyone is called to protest, to march, to speak out publicly on Facebook and Twitter. Not everyone is called to be “that kind of activist” but I believe as Christians we are all called to act justly, to love mercy, and to live humbly in all of our spheres of influence and we can’t do that by expecting people to figure it out through osmosis.

I’m here for it all and it’s worth it.

Will You Be a Witness?

img_4294Tonight is the big night at the Republican National Convention. The Donald, the candidate so many thought wouldn’t make it through the primaries, will accept the party of Lincoln’s nomination. Sit on that one for a minute, especially if you are a Republican or grew up in Republican family.

I’m not going to pretend here. I’m not a fan. In fact, after watching Gov. Chris Christie whip the crowd into cheers of “Lock her up!” I realized that was as close to a modern-day lynch mob as I wanted to get. I truly expected an effigy of Hillary Clinton to appear somewhere in the middle of the arena floor.

But I want to encourage all of you to consider watching tonight. And watch next week. Watch it on C-SPAN or streamed without commentary if you are able to. Watch and listen. Open your eyes and your heart, and don’t let it all crush your soul. Find what gives you hope and cling to that because politics is not the answer. But ignoring what is happening in politics in our country also is not the answer.

Evangelicals, particularly the white ones, are getting a bad rap this election cycle, and I can’t say it’s undeserved. The rise of Trump’s candidacy is being connected to white evangelicals and everywhere on my social media feeds are white evangelicals crying out, “Not this white evangelical!”

But that doesn’t excuse you from paying attention and washing your hands any more than reminding me your grandparents didn’t own slaves or live next to any Japanese families who were interned excuses you from understanding and examining how history impacts currently realities. As Christians we cannot read scripture and say the history recorded in scripture and around the same time the Bible was written have no impact on our lives. How can we be so ignorant as to believe the genocide of Native Americans, slavery, internment, unjust immigration laws of the past have no impact on how our churches, communities, schools, and laws currently function? (I’ll have to write more on all of that later.)

Be a witness. Many of my friends and I have described this week to a train wreck that we can’t seem to take our eyes off of. We know it’s crazy. We know it’s scary. We know that maybe we should avert our eyes or take cover from a possible explosion.

I’d like to think that it isn’t self-hatred that draws us back or a cynicism too deep to unravel in a blog post. I’d like to think that I am watching because there is a responsibility to be informed.  I’ve been watching because I have friends and neighbors who are seeing something very different this week, seeing it through and processing it through a different lens and I want to be a witness from a different angle. It will be the same next week. I realize there are all sorts of privileges that are connected to being able to cease work and connect to a television to watch, but if you’re reading this blog you’re already there in that space of privilege. My dear readers, please use it.

Use your privilege to educate yourself. Read reports from different news sources. Watch tonight and again next week. Ask questions of friends who believe different things but also want the same things. Don’t rely on witty tweets (though mine are pretty funny) and memes. Watch. Watch and read. We need to be witnesses.