I put my sermon topic "Ready to Celebrate" on the outside sign boards last Monday, the day before the election. I had been thinking about the lectionary Gospel reading, which is a story about a few young women preparing to celebrate as guests at a wedding. Some of them were ready, and others were not. I felt that in some profound way I was ready to celebrate the election as president of a man who symbolizes a very special kind of hope.
We have lived through several years of disappointment. Toward the end of President Bush's first year in office, shortly after 9/11, seven years ago, more than ninety percent of the American people approved of his performance. Since then the percentage of people approving of his presidency has declined steadily and dramatically. The percentage of people disapproving his performance is currently higher than for any president in modern history—since such statistics have been kept.
I say that not with the intention of demeaning President Bush, but in recognition of the fact that many Americans, probably most Americans have lived under a cloud for several years, with a growing awareness that our country was headed in the wrong direction: an increasingly unpopular war with poorly defined objectives and no timetable for an ending, a culture that could talk about acquiring personal and corporate wealth but say nothing about sacrifice, financial discipline, or generosity toward others, a definition of morality set by a small but vocal part of the religious community, the absence of dispassionate debate about issues of national and international priorities. And many of us felt powerless to do anything about all that.
Two years ago in the mid-term elections, the voters altered the make-up of congress, establishing Democratic majorities in both the House of Representatives and the Senate. But not much changed. Congress was unable or unwilling to stand up to what has become the imperial presidency. A few significant pieces of legislation were enacted, but not many. And worst of all, the president was unable or unwilling to communicate with the American public, and he avoided situations where he would have to speak extemporaneously. A feeling of hopelessness spread more widely.
The campaigns preceding last Tuesday's presidential election were long and at times bitter. In my judgment and in the judgment of a majority of Americans, one candidate emerged who could bring about significant change. With a black African father and a white mother, and raised by his mother and her white parents in Hawaii, Barack Obama was able to articulate his awareness of the problems facing the nation and the world, especially the problem of an economy on the brink of collapse. For the most part he ran a campaign that focused on issues, he talked about long and short-term solutions to complex problems, and he manifested a kind of personal poise that one Republican columnist said left him awe-struck.
For untold millions of people, things came together on Tuesday night when CNN and the networks declared Obama the president-elect three minutes after the polls closed on the West Coast. It was as though a dam had burst. People of all ages, races, sexual orientations and economic levels cheered, danced, hugged, and wept with joy. Nancy and I were with a racially mixed group of people in Princeton. A majority of them were African-American. Their exhilaration was uncontainable.
The African-American man who was sitting beside me has raced a car in the Indianapolis 500. He told about standing in the office of a white banker a couple of decades ago, applying for a loan to finance the culmination of his racing dream. He had to swallow his anger while the banker called another banker, a white friend, and said, "I have a 'boy' in my office (the man was in his thirties) whose mother was a cook in my neighborhood. She was good. She didn't steal anything." The man beside me said, "I was shaking inside. But I didn't say anything, and I got the loan." He kept saying as the celebrations were shown on television, "I can't believe I'm living to see this."
Then came Obama's victory speech on an outdoor platform in Chicago. How long has it been since a president or president-elect spoke of "gays and lesbians" when describing the inclusive community he hopes to lead? How long has it been since a president or president-elect challenged the American people to engage in service and to make sacrifices in pursuit of larger goals? How long has it been since a president or president-elect spoke of looking after "not only ourselves but each other?"
The president elect also acknowledged the difficulty of the tasks that confront him and the enormity of the challenges that face the American people. His experience as a community organizer equips him for being realistic about how far and how fast he and the government he forms will be able to translate promises into achievements, about moving beyond rhetoric toward programs. But as a man who has been around for three quarters of a century, I am hopeful this morning in a way I haven't been for years. I know how different it can be to have a clear and vibrant voice calling a nation to something more than financial prosperity and insular arrogance.
How appropriate that our first reading this morning brought us the words of Joshua, the man who followed Moses as leader of the Israelites. Joshua reminded his fellow citizens that there are always lesser gods calling people to the delusions of undisciplined living and unconcern for one's neighbors, especially one's neighbors in need. As the leader, he proclaimed his intention to follow the ways of God, which are to reverence God and Creation, and to love one's neighbors as oneself. When a leader is clear about his or her values, it makes a difference to the people he or she will lead.
In terms of our second reading, the one about the young women who were expecting to celebrate a wedding, I keep thinking about the fact that in the story the bridegroom arrived at midnight. Obviously that's an unusual time for a wedding banquet, but the story is more about making a point than about historical accuracy. I find deep comfort in the truth that the One we wait for, the holy One whose presence comforts us in all circumstances, often comes to us in the dark times of our lives. God is a God of surprises and a God who never abandons people or nations but who keeps nudging our hearts to see the bigger picture, to rise above narrow self-interest.
For that reason I am not despairing about the significant negative note of last Tuesday's events: the rejection of gay marriage in the states of California, Florida, and Arizona. Even the president-elect is on record as opposing gay marriage, thereby proving that even the best of people have blind spots. I believe he will work hard to ensure the full equality of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgendered people in legal and economic matters. The election of an African-American president has been a long time in coming, and the same will undoubtedly be true of legalizing gay marriage.
The voice of a church like this one will be important in framing the issue of full equality in terms of Christian faith, faith not defined by fundamentalists or conservatives. Exit polls in California indicated that Black and Latino conservative Christians were instrumental in the vote against gay marriage. We need to find ways to talk within the Christian community about the people who are still waiting for full inclusion.
The closing words of our second reading "Keep awake, therefore" remind me that though I am hopeful today, I have no illusions about the end of prejudice in America. One columnist commenting on the anti-gay vote in the three states and the anti-gay sentiments in so many Black and Latino churches said, "Everybody seems to need a dog to kick."
That's one way to look at the phenomenon of prejudice. But I know on the basis of experience that people can find their way, usually with significant help, toward a healthy sense of self so that they don't need a proverbial dog to kick. That's part of my reason for making God's unconditional love the major theme of my preaching and the centerpiece of my ministry. Awareness of being loved unconditionally can be the beginning of a process that lessens the fear of people who are different from the norm and leads to a release from the need to hurt such people.
Our work for social justice as a congregation rests squarely on our celebrating God's unconditional, inclusive love, and on our ability to share our joy in that love with other people.
This morning we can give thanks and celebrate as our nation turns a page in its long history book. I believe the election last Tuesday was in the truest sense of the word a miracle. The hand of God was in it. And the hand of God will always beckon people to new opportunities to experience freedom, justice, full equality, and peace. That same hand calls us to renew our commitment to service as well as to satisfaction, to sacrifice as well as to fulfillment.
Are we ready to celebrate? Are we ready to serve?