It’s been two weeks since we woke up to the news that Donald Trump won the presidency of the United States for a second time. I didn’t stay up to watch the results come in. I had a gut (wrenching) feeling around 7 p.m., so I put on Patty Griffin’s album Downtown Church and scrolled through old photos of family vacations. It was nice.
For a week after the election, I did not listen to news or podcasts about the election results, and I scrolled past my friend’s posts of lament or celebration. Except one. A fellow alumnus of my Baptist university posted, “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood,” with a flag emoji. I knew what that meant, so against my better judgment, I commented that it wasn’t a beautiful day for all of us. I followed up with a sentence about how love always wins, and I hoped we could all begin to lean toward kindness. I consider him a friend and am miles beyond arguing about anything on social media, so my words were mostly to convey that 1) I did not vote for Trump and 2) I have a little spark of hope.
This is not the way it went last time. After the 2016 election, Kyle and I ranted, and one of us shut down our Facebook account. Then we moved across town, began working with refugees, opened an immigration law office, and eventually stopped attending church. I’m not sure all of these were directly related to the election of Donald Trump, but some were.
Eight years later, our country has sent a loud and clear message that we need four more years of Trump and all the accompanying chaos. And despite commenting on my friend’s post that our “neighborhood” doesn’t look so beautiful now, I don’t feel angry or afraid, although for some of us, these are the exact emotions that fit this moment.
Instead, I feel hopeful.
This is not my usual bent. I tend to be more of a skeptic—a “doubting Thomas,” as my mother used to say (Thomas was the disciple who demanded to see Jesus’ nail scars because he was not buying the resurrection story). Skepticism and doubting have served me well at times. I don’t get scammed or gobble up conspiracy theories, and mostly don’t believe any politicians’ promises. This means I should be able to wave away all of Trump’s blustering threats of what he will do in office and go about my business. But, based on the last time he was in office, I believe he will attempt to do everything he has promised.
And yet, I feel hopeful, which seems to make no sense, but here I am - choosing it, hanging on to it, and sharing it. I’m foolishly hopeful that all our living expenses will decrease, not just for me but for my struggling neighbors who believed in the campaign promise. I’m hopeful that our broken immigration system can be fixed in a humane way, so that we can focus on welcoming those who are fleeing their country of origin because of danger and persecution. I’m hopeful we won’t see mass deportations of DACA kids or the workers who do the jobs we don’t want, pay their taxes, and keep our economy strong. I’m hopeful we can begin to treat each other with empathy, dignity, and respect, even if what we see around us is the opposite. I’m hopeful we will consider how to bring more kindness to our communities. I don’t think it’s helpful to talk about justice and injustice in the environment we live in; the terms are too subjective and depend on which “side” you are on. However, kindness is pretty straightforward, isn’t it? Maybe over the next four years, we’ll realize that a healthy, functioning society requires it on many levels. And mostly, I’m hopeful those of us who believe Jesus’ teachings aren’t just words to memorize or throw around on social media will be serious about holding them up as—at the very least— a standard for human decency. I’ve been reading and listening to The Sermon on the Mount over the past two weeks, desiring for it to settle deep in me as a touchstone for the next four years and beyond.
I believe hope is a revolutionary act, so this is my response to the United States Presidential election on November 5. I see this kind of hope in the eyes of our clients from across the world as they come to our country believing there are better days ahead. In the face of my own skepticism and doubt, I’m choosing to believe that, too.
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