In a way, it feels like a magnified version of Christmas – the election, I mean. All of that lead-up, all the wishes and hopes for what you might get this year, all of that investment in trying to get just the right outcome…and then it’s done. The big reveal is complete. And we either did or did not get just exactly what we wanted, or some results feel like the best gift ever, and some are more gravely disappointing than an ugly sweater or a set of pickle forks.
But one way or another, those of us who have spent months obsessing over polls or calling strangers or arguing politics on Facebook need to find something else to do with our time. The decisions are made, the gifts unwrapped. There is only so long one can continue to fill the hours with election re-caps and analyses about how and why this or that demographic voted as they did. It’s time to move on.
Except that it isn’t. Moving on implies letting it go, moving forward as if nothing happened. It sounds like brushing one’s hands together and declaring mission accomplished if your side won, or grumbling off into the night if it didn’t. Neither of those stances really exemplifies the best of democracy or, for that matter, spirituality.
Far better to choose moving forward. If there were candidates or causes you were passionate about, you cared for a reason. You voted because you cared about the environment or liberty or education or marriage or any number of visions of the society that you hope to live in. And none of those visions is either accomplished or lost based on the people or propositions that got the most votes. All of those visions are still merely possibilities.
Every time an election rolls around we are told that it is the most important of our lifetimes, and that catastrophe is imminent if things don’t go our way. And that might be true. But it is also true that the work of the world, the pursuit of justice and freedom and health and wholeness has been continuing—imperfectly—for a very long time, and isn’t likely to be finished any time soon.
So take the time you need to celebrate or mourn the outcome of this most recent election, but don’t take too long. The work of clarifying your vision of the world you want to see, and the work of nudging the world toward that reality, is still very much in season.
On this Veteran’s Day Let us confess our sins before God and neighbor.
Most Merciful God
we confess that we have sinned against you
in thought, word, and deed
by what we have done, and what we have left undone.
We have become people of the lie,
out to tame the frontier wilderness
while the beast within lurks hidden in shadow
paralyzing us in a perpetual state of denial.
We have made war entertainment
enjoying box seats in the carnival of death
consuming violence, turning tragedy into games
raising our children to kill without remorse.
We have morally disengaged,
outsourcing our killing to the one percent,
forgetting they follow our orders
the blood they shed is on our hands too.
We have insulated ourselves from the painful truths veterans carry.
Our bumper magnets proclaim, “Support our Troops,”
but for too many, suicide is the only panacea.
Our insulation is their isolation.
We have made our veterans into false idols,
blood sacrifice on the National Altar of War.
Parades and medals perpetuate the hero myth,
glorifying those who kill and die on our behalf.
We have betrayed the dead,
saying, “They will never be forgotten,”
yet how many among us can name
a single war casualty of the past decade?
We have sanitized killing and condoned extrajudicial assassinations:
death by remote control,
war made easy without due process,
protecting ourselves from the human cost of war.
We have deceived ourselves,
saying, “Americans do not kill civilians, terrorists do,”
denying the colossal misery our wars inflict on the innocent.
The national closet bursts with skeletons.
We have abandoned our Afghan allies,
luring them in with promises of safety and security
then failing to follow through with promises made,
using them and leaving them to an almost certain death.
Almighty God, on this Veteran’s Day
help us to turn from this wayward path.
Deliver us from indifference, callousness, and self-deception.
Fill us with compassion for all who bear the burdens of our wars.
Grant us the courage to pay attention, to stay engaged
so we may listen without judgment, restore integrity,
accept responsibility, keep promises
and give honor to whomever honor is due.
Disclaimer: All entries to CLF/Quest Military Ministries page reflect the personal views of the contributor. The views expressed here are in no way to be construed as an individual or individuals speaking in their official capacities for the agencies, departments, or service branches they serve in. This is not an official publication of the Department of Defense, the U.S. Army, U.S. Navy, U.S. Coast Guard, U.S. Marine Corps, U.S. Air Force, any government agency, or any other organization.
Seanan and ministerial colleagues, the Revs. Cynthia Kane, Nayer Taheri
and Karen Stoyanoff enjoy a day of sailing off San Diego CA to celebrate
Seanan’s return from deployment in Afghanistan.
Seanan and his mother, Sharon Devine, shortly after his flight home
from Afghanistan.
Seanan and buddy enjoy the sea air.
We’d love to cast a vote for compassion, freedom, justice. But they’re not on the ballot. So we can’t let the ballot reflect the extent we allow ourselves to envision the world we want to create. Hold that bigger vision in prayer or meditation before turning to the act of voting: a land where justice shall roll down like waters, and peace like an everflowing stream. A land where we bind up the broken and the captives go free. That’s the ballot our hearts and souls can cast, every day and with every activity.
But meanwhile, it’s time to vote! So the following are my ideas about how to turn that activity into a form of prayer.
Before your vote, do thorough research about all of the positions, even the tiniest. You may not love this research, but find organizations or friends who do love to do it and read what they wrote. Print up a sample ballot, mark it up, and stick it in your pocket. Clarify your mind. Scrambling around trying to sort through obscure races in the voting booth will take you right out of praying mode and into guilt and panic!
Walk into the polling place with gratitude that it is there. As the election judges check your name off the list, offer a moment of gratitude for them and their service. Offer a moment of gratitude for all of the check marks on that list, for all of the people in your neighborhood who take time to affirm their freedom and power to vote.
As you walk into the voting booth and set up your ballot, offer gratitude for all who have worked for your right to do so: founding fathers and suffragists, freedom riders and voting rights activists.
Now take out the ballot. Offer gratitude for all who would offer their time and their families and their lives for public service, whether you agree with any of their positions or not.
Look at the names on the ballot of the candidates you will vote for. As you check a candidate’s name, visualize that person’s strongest, most powerful, courageous and bold self. Vote for that candidate affirming the possibility of who they might become in office with strong community support and accountability.
As you check names, visualize yourself at your strongest, most powerful, courageous and bold self. Offer up gratitude for all of the civic leaders and organizations that will help you to be such a person. Commit to being a citizen activist. Cast an invisible vote for yourself beside each candidate’s name.
If you vote on community initiatives, take time to visualize all of the activists who worked to support freedom and justice about this initiative. As you check a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ box, imagine all of those affected by the initiative who vote with you. Especially imagine those who cannot vote, because they’re school kids, or their immigration status doesn’t yet allow them to vote, or because they served time for a crime, or for any other reason. Imagine your beloved ones who have died and won’t be casting a vote. Put them all into your pen and let them help you put in that check mark.
After you’re done voting, and despite the lines waiting, allow yourself a moment just to touch the ballot, to offer up a blessing for democracy itself, for fair elections, for the concept of one person one vote, for the lofty view of humanity which initially envisioned such a system, and which has expanded the notion of ‘personhood’ over the last several centuries.
Leaving the booth, smile at those around you, walk to the machine and insert your ballot, offering one last invisible bow of gratitude as you leave.
Religious faith consists of our most deeply held values. It is the summation of what is of greatest importance to us, our ultimate commitments. But those commitments are expressed in many different ways, through many different aspects of our lives; they have to be if those commitments really are ultimate commitments. So of course, our faith expresses itself in what we say, in the work that we do, in the things we like and dislike, and our faith absolutely finds its expression in the way we vote, in the causes we support and in the causes we oppose, and our faith absolutely finds its expression in how we feel about our political leaders. So to pretend that politics somehow isn’t relevant to religious life shows, I think, a very limited understanding of both religion and politics. Figuring out where religious liberalism ends and where political liberalism begins is a challenge for us, not because we’re shallow or confused or unwise, but because the line between political convictions and religious beliefs is actually very fine. Our beliefs, our convictions, our identities, our lives are not so easily compartmentalized. We do not cease to be religious when we step into the voting booth, and we don’t stop being political when we come to church. That’s as it should be. How we balance those things, as well as all the other things demanding our attention and provoking our interest — well, that’s the hard part.
Unitarian Universalists are a people of faith that celebrate the creative power of difference respectfully encountered, the redemptive and healing power of different people being truly themselves and sharing of those true selves with others. Yet we know that we cannot and should not expect to accept everything. We should never make a place in our religious homes for abusive and destructive behavior; we can’t be truly ourselves unless we trust one another, and that means we must impose appropriate, healthy boundaries. And of course, no one religious community is going to feel like home to every single person who visits. Some will walk among us briefly and move on in search of something else. But if we actively exclude anyone, we had better make sure we understand how doing so is an expression of who we yearn to be as a religious people. The idea that if we are going to worship together and pray together and be together as a religious community, we must therefore also vote in the same way shows a very limited understanding of what it means for us to be in community. This is not because our political views are unimportant, or irrelevant to religious life; they are important, and they are relevant. It’s because the foundation of our faith lies in the creative possibilities of being transformed and liberated and healed by constructively encountering difference. If we insist upon unanimity, and explicitly or tacitly exclude anyone who falls outside the self-appointed majority, it can only be because we have very little confidence in the religious faith that supposedly binds us together.
Politics is not often conducive to reconciliation, respect, and mutual understanding. We get the message again and again, loud and clear, that there is no middle ground. On any issue at any given time, there are winners and there are losers. You’re for capital punishment or you’re against it. You’re pro-choice or you’re pro-life. Your state is red or it’s blue. Well, we know that the reality is far more complex. And we know that democracy is messy and inefficient and imperfect; it’s an unending series of processes, and we’d just better learn to live with it, because Winston Churchill was quite right when he supposedly quipped that “democracy is the worst form of government except for all the others.” As a religious people committed to love and forgiveness and reconciliation, committed to mutual understanding and respect and being enriched rather than threatened by difference, and yes, as a religious people committed to democracy, the question for us is how we are to participate authentically in the often divisive processes of democracy while still maintaining our religious commitments.
We have a vision for our nation and our world. It is a vision of a world in which different people can come together and learn from one another rather than fearing and hating each other. Our religion calls us to practice that among ourselves, and to bring that healing, saving message to the world. We can only do so if we encounter our own differences with respect and honesty and love.
Every day you have less reason
not to give yourself away.
~ Wendell Berry ~
On this eve of a national election, so many conversations begin with “well, depending on who wins the election, …” In our representative democracy, a lot does depend on who wins elections.
Because of how the presidential election is decided, via the electoral college, it can feel as if your vote doesn’t count, especially if you tend to vote the opposite slate from the majority of voters in your state. I have heard more than a few people wonder out loud if they will even vote this year “since their vote won’t count anyway.”
What is imperative to remember during these bouts of feeling disenfranchised is that your local votes also change the world. It matters who sits on the city council seat, who becomes judge, whether that change to the city charter or the state constitution becomes law. It matters in daily life to real people.
Detention policies, educational opportunities, the right to marry – all of this is decided by voting at the local level. The roots of change have always been local. So read up about the local issues. Discuss them with your peers. And then vote, if you can, my friends. Think of it as a spiritual practice: Read, Reflect, Act.
Our votes matter very much to our neighbors and our selves. May this weekend be a time of spiritual practice for you as you prepare to vote for the sake of your local community next week.
I am a Unitarian Universalist who believes deeply that salvation is an inherent aspect of my faith. Not just my own personal salvation, though through this faith that has happened, but the salvation of the world.
My faith is not about the salvation of individual souls for a perceived afterlife. I believe that whatever happens to one of us when this physical human life ends, happens to us all. I do not believe in the “Divine Sifting” of souls. That afterlife might be a heaven, or it might be a continuation of being, or it might be reincarnation. But whatever it is, it will happen to us all equally. We are all saved.
No, the salvation that I speak of is salvation in this world, of this world, and for this world. To use Christian language, the salvation that I believe in is the creation of the Realm of God here, and now. It is the reconciling of humanity with each other, and with the world in which we live.
This, I believe, is the vision of salvation that rests at the heart of Unitarian Universalism, a faith which calls us to work with our time, our talent, our treasure, and our dreams to heal this world, to make this world whole.
It means to work for the salvation of this world from the evils of racism and human slavery.
It means to work for the salvation of this world from the evils of war and genocide.
It means to work for the salvation of this world from the evils of poverty and inequality.
It means to work for the salvation of this world from the evils of greed and political apathy.
It means to work for the salvation of this world from the evils of torture and injustice.
It means to work for the salvation of this world from the evils of the closed mind and the closed heart.
It means to work for the salvation of this world from many more evils than this, but it also means to work for the salvation of this world by promoting the good…
It means to work for the salvation of this world by promoting the good that is found in loving your neighbor as yourself.
It means to work for the salvation of this world by promoting the good that is found in learning to love, and forgive, yourself.
It means to work for the salvation of this world by promoting the good that is found in protecting the environment, without dividing ourselves from others.
It means to work for the salvation of this world by promoting the good that is found in joining with others in communities of right relationship, be they found in the family, in the church, in the workplace, in the nation, or (could it be possible) in the world.
It means to work for the salvation of this world by promoting the good that is found in finding where your values call you to bring people together, instead of tear them apart.
It means to work for the salvation of this world by promoting the good that is found in working with others to find their own call to work for this salvation.
This is, for me, a mission of salvation… truly a mission to save the world. It is a mission that I believe must be inspired by a religious vision of what our world would be, could be, will be like when we, the human race, finally grow up. It is a vision of creating the Realm of God here and now… not of depending on God to do it for us.
This is my vision of salvation, and the power behind my Unitarian Universalist faith.
Yours in Faith,
Rev. David
I packed my dōgu (tea utensils) before I left for Afghanistan. My set comes from Japan and includes a chasen (whisk), chashaku (tea scoop), chawan (tea bowl), fukusa (silk cloth), kama (iron kettle), and natsume (tea caddy). I carry the most delicate utensils in a crush-proof Pelican Case so my dōgu can go with me when I do battlefield circulation. I use my dōgu to help soldiers experience the four principles of chadō (the Way of Tea): wa (和 harmony), kei (敬 respect), sei (清 purity), and jaku (寂 tranquility)
The military culture is one of constant business and many soldiers in combat live in a state of chronic anxiety. I have discovered that chadō helps soldiers relieve their anxiety; chadō permits the guest to take a moment of respite and just be still; chadō enables the guest to pause, breathe, and appreciate the beauty of the moment. Through chadō I care for the souls and nurture the lives of my soldiers.
I introduce the ceremony to soldiers by explaining the connection between tea and the samurai tradition. The samurai understood the importance of balancing the destructive energy of war and killing with the creative energy of art. This is why samurai would learn an art form like haiku (poetry), ikebana (flower arranging), kubuki (dancing), or chadō, before training in kendō (the sword) or kyudō (the bow). The samurai mastered artistic disciplines in order to develop their spirit and mind and thereby become greater warriors.
So far, the response to my chadō ministry in Afghanistan has been outstanding.
Beth wrote, “Wonderful to meet you and to be blessed by the gift of the tea ceremony. It felt like the first time I’ve “slowed down” in months.” Tony wrote, “Thank you for sharing the tea ritual with me. I need more moments like that.” Seanan wrote, “I was actually kind of surprised, as with many Zen events, at how powerful the tea ceremony was. Thank you for that meaningful endpoint to the deployment.”
After their first experience of chadō last Friday,the commander and command sergeant major of my battalion resolved to visit me for tea every week.
Recently I joined an online “Japanese Tea Ceremony” group and began a discussion with some of the more than 200 members about my use of the chadō in my ministry as an Army chaplain. Through that discussion I have learned, as John Larissou, said, “bringing aid and comfort where it is really needed and using tea for a serious purpose” is consistent with the intent of Ikkyū Sōjun (1394-1481), the Japanese Zen Buddhist priest and poet who was one of the creators of chadō.
I may be among the first chaplains to utilize chadō as a tool for ministry in the U.S. military. If there are others out there I would like to know! Samurai possessed certain wisdom about balance that our modern military would do well to adopt and adapt.
Disclaimer: All entries to CLF/Quest Military Ministries page reflect the personal views of the contributor. The views expressed here are in no way to be construed as an individual or individuals speaking in their official capacities for the agencies, departments, or service branches they serve in. This is not an official publication of the Department of Defense, the U.S. Army, U.S. Navy, U.S. Coast Guard, U.S. Marine Corps, U.S. Air Force, any government agency, or any other organization.
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The very first prayer I ever learned as a child was a bedtime prayer, taught to me by my grandmother. It went like this: “God bless me and keep me a good boy, and spare me for a good end. Amen.” Read more →
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An immigrant from Russia was explaining to his children and grandchildren about life in the Old Country, and told a story about his father. One winter’s day, his father was away from home with his horse and sleigh, and a terrible blizzard began. Read more →
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