Today I am so tired.
I cannot much fathom that our nation is running up to the brink of electing to our highest office a man who has held no office. None.
This is a man who has insulted and demeaned and fomented and this is a man who seems to revel in the bizarre theater of buffoonery.
I am tired of the barely veiled woman-mistrust that under-girds the unlikeliest of presidential contests ever held. In the race is a woman who has been consistent in her concern for and advocacy in regard to children and community and decades of work and philanthropy are also-ran material in the circus of misdirection and media clowning.
The circus seems to be the desired reality show of our day. How can this be so? The implications are staggering.
Gone with the stroke of a pen would be environmental protections and choice and health care coverage and most terrifying of all? Gone would be our sense of who we are as a nation.
I am tired of black people being gunned down in the streets. I am tired of the stifling of outrage and I am tired by the sense that somehow it is wrong to name the injustice. It is as though naming the mattering of black lives equals disdain for the police and isn’t that a convenient way to silence allies?
I am tired of navigating Sunday morning preaching. I am tired of knowing that there are some who will pounce on the opportunity, any opportunity, to feel affronted by what is preached or named in God’s house.
I am tired of the sniffing around of others as though a different view point or world view is affront.
I am tired of the repeated trope that politics don’t belong in church. You’re kidding, right? Everything we do is political. Jesus was intentional about the fact that black lives matter and poor lives matter and women’s lives matter and all lives matter to the Holy and they must matter to all of us or surely we are destined to wander this world broken and afraid.
Such insistence upon the sanctity of each life was dangerous for Jesus. It seems dangerous yet, God help us.
I am tired of “broken and afraid” as the seemingly inevitable harvest of this season.
On this day I give thanks for the solace of work that matters, a community that is courageous, and the ongoing compassionate invitation of Jesus the Christ:
“Come onto me” says Jesus. “I know what loving costs. I’ll give you rest”.
There is so much pain. Being tired makes sense.
So too does believing that God is far from finished with this world and we are walking miracle and there is Spirit movement in the midst of despair and that movement is about coming together and learning through differences and allowing ourselves to hear the pain and naming tired for sure but also naming the power of love and hope and a conviction that we have the courage to live love.
We have that courage. Through the heart of the Christ, through the unity of the Holy Spirit and through the stunninng gift of those who hold us when we are so tired, we have that courage.