The Day After
A Post Presidential Election Sermon
I need to begin by confessing that the first part of this sermon is completely selfish. I've been so disappointed since Tuesday's election that I knew one of the things I needed most from church was a bit of laughter - a joke. And if you've been as depressed as I have, then I offer it to you as a gift as well. If you are one of my friends who supported Bush, then consider it further fuel for your good mood.
So here it is:
A long, long time ago, a not so wonderful pope decided that Rome would be better off without the Jews. Naturally this caused an uproar in the Jewish community. So the Pope, to calm things down, decided to make a deal. Instead of forcing them out, he proposed a religious debate between himself and a member of the Jewish community. If the Jewish representative won, the Jews could stay. If the Pope won, the Jews would leave.
Now the Jews realized, of course, that they had no choice. So they looked around for a champion who could defend their faith, but no one wanted to volunteer. It was too risky. All the greatest rabbis and scholars knew it was a set up. They didn't want to stick their necks out and be responsible for losing. Finally, by default, they picked as their representative an old man named Moishe, who had spent his entire life as a street sweeper.
Being old and poor he had little to lose, so he agreed. But he did so on one condition. Since he'd had no formal education and wasn't very articulate, he asked that neither side be allowed to talk. Amused and full of himself, the Pope agreed.
The day of the great debate came. The Pope went on the offensive and began the debate by raising his hand in the air and displaying three fingers. Moishe paused for a second and then timidly responded by holding up one finger.
The Pope thought for a second and then confidently waved his hand in a circle around his head. Moishe hesitated and then pointed to the ground where he stood.
The Pope thought again...With a confident grin he pulled out the holy wafer and glass of the Lord's blood. Moishe looked confused for a second, and everyone was nervous. Then shrugged his shoulders and pulled out an apple.
A surprised look came over the Pope's face. He stood up abruptly and said, "I give up. This man is too good, too wise. He wins. The Jews can stay!"
Everyone was shocked. The entire town went into a tizzy. The cardinals and bishops immediately gathered around the Pope asking him what happened. The Pope explained: "First I held up three fingers to assert the brilliance and rightness of the Trinity. The street cleaner held up one finger, reminding me that there was still one God common to both our religions, to whom all of us are loyal and which binds us as brothers and sisters.
"So then I decided I'd better resort to sophisticated theology and crush this simple-minded man. I waved my finger high above me proclaiming that God is all powerful and all present, the supreme ruling force of the universe. But he pointed to the ground, reminding me that God was also right here between us, manifesting himself in friendship and kindness.
"And so finally," said the Pope, "I had no choice but to resort to the big guns. I brought out the wine and the wafer to show that only Christians have the true way to God. But oh, this man was good. He pulled out an apple to remind me of original sin, that all of us are sinners and that what God looks for most in his followers is humility.
"He had an answer for everything. What could I do? His wisdom was just too great."
Meanwhile, the Jewish community crowded around Moishe, even more amazed by the win. Moishe, this elderly, non-educated street sweeper had done what all the greatest scholars insisted was impossible! "What happened?" they asked.
"Well," said Moishe, "First he said to me that the Jews had three days to get out of here. But I held firm, friends. I held up one finger to let him know that not one of us was leaving.
"Then he told me that this whole city would be cleared of Jews. I again held firm and pointed to my feet telling him that none of us were moving one step."
"And then? Then what?" Moishe scratched his head and said, "Well to be honest I'm not sure. It got very confusing. Suddenly he took out his lunch, so I decided to take mine out too."
There is so much I like about this joke! But the thing I appreciate most is the way it helps remind me that I'm not childish, overly dramatic or a sore loser by feeling incredibly depressed and disoriented by the results of Tuesday's election.
Let me explain by talking first about the passage we read earlier by Thomas Freidman. That passage voices, I think, what a lot of us have been struggling with this week. "Why do we feel so much worse about this loss than we did about previous ones?"
Let me stress right away that I am not assuming or expecting all UU's or all First Unitarians to have voted Democratic. Please forgive me right up front for all the ways that this sermon might come off as politically partisan. That truly and genuinely is NOT my goal today. I don't have any interest in convincing anyone to feel bad about George Bush's win. No, I simply want to help us figure out why some of us feel so bad about it. Because in figuring that out, I think, lies an important lesson for all Unitarian Universalists, regardless of whom you voted for.
So listen again to what Freidman has to say: "What troubled me yesterday," he writes, "was my feeling that this election was tipped ...by people who don't just favor different policies than I do - they favor a whole different kind of America. We don't just disagree on what America should be doing; we disagree on what America is."
Now, I suspect that when you read this in the papers or heard it for the first time this morning, many of you - like me - thought to yourselves, "That's it! Bingo! That's why this feels so big, so heavy, so scary; that's why my stomach is full of dread, rather than the simpler and easy-to-digest feelings of defeat and disappointment. I, like Freidman, must have instinctively understood that these battles over abortion and gay rights are merely the tiny tips of two much larger and deeper icebergs floating full steam right at each other."
And so we owe Friedman our thanks this morning. His words help us explicitly articulate what we've implicitly felt: that this election is so troublesome because it revealed itself as a clash over something much bigger and deeper than just the definition of abortion and marriage and even just war.
But here's where I think we need to pause for a second and bring in this morning's joke to complement Friedman. As much as I think Friedman is correct about there being something bigger underneath the policy debates over abortion, gay rights and war, I think his understanding of that "something bigger" is slightly off. I'm not so sure that those two giant icebergs colliding just beneath the surface of our culture are differing definitions of America, as Freidman says. No, it seems to me that this collision is even bigger than that. It seems to me that the truly daunting clash going on beneath the surface of our culture is between two very different definitions not so much of America, but of reality itself.
Which is exactly what our joke this morning helps us get at. Indeed, the genius of this joke is not so much that it makes fun of the human inability to communicate, but that it so clearly demonstrates that we humans can't possibly communicate when we routinely fail to notice that our opposing sides are living in radically different realities.
And man, is that ever true for our culture today. It's not too hard to see that, whether it's the issue of abortion, gay rights, or just war, we are both the clueless Pope and the clueless street cleaner playing out this sad storyline of ignorance, over and over again. One side of our culture believes we are holding Christ's body and discussing God's absolute dictates; the other side believes we've pulled out something entirely of this earth and are discussing something subjective and debatable, just as one would argue over where to have lunch. Both sides literally see and live in two different realities; neither side notices the farce - and the tragedy - that's occurring.
In other words, you might say, the joke's on us.
Up until Tuesday, I think most of us political and religious liberals have been going along assuming that the vast majority of this nation - despite all our policy differences - were living in the same reality. But on Wednesday it became clear to a lot of us that the reality we liberal religious folk live in is not nearly as widespread as we'd thought. And not only that, but suddenly we were forced to admit that this other reality - a reality we scoff at, belittle and ignore - is actually more dominant and more dominating than our own.
Here are some of the statistics that began to circulate across radio, TV, newspapers and the Internet on Wednesday morning as we tried to figure out how and why the religious vote had turned out to be so influential.
More Americans today believe in the Virgin Birth than in Darwin's theory of evolution. (New York Times, 11/4/04)
54% of Christians define themselves as Biblical literalists, believing that the Bible makes it possible to label actions, countries and people as clearly evil and clearly good. (Newsweek, May 24, 2004)
A nation-wide poll asked teens about which side they defer to when their religious beliefs conflict with scientific findings. 2 to 1, the teens said they side with religion. (Beliefnet.com)
36% of Americans believe that the Book of Revelation contains true prophecy. (Newsweek, May 24, 2004)
55% of Americans believe in the Rapture, the moment when - during a preordained time of global conflict - Jesus will apparently come down and take the faithful to heaven, leaving sinners here on earth to suffer seven years under Satan's rule. (Newsweek, May 24, 2004)
46% of Americans believe in the Armageddon, the final battle on earth where Jesus descends with armies of angels to defeat Satan and crush all non-believers. (Newsweek, May 24, 2004)
And do you know what the current best selling pop novels are in the country? It is a Christian book series called "Left Behind." The series starts with the Rapture and the faithful being suddenly brought to heaven. The remaining books focus on the trials of all the sinners left behind as they suffer under the rule of the anti-Christ, who in the books turns out to be the Secretary General of the United Nations - a selection the authors made after extensive research and consultation with experts on Biblical prophesy. This series is currently outselling all of Stephen King's novels as well as all of John Grisham's novels. These books are clearly marketed as fiction, but the authors stress that they are fictionalized stories taking place within a context their readers believe will become fact.
These are just some of the cultural findings and statistics that we liberal religionists have failed to take seriously. These jarring statistics characterize the reality of those that didn't just tip the election in George Bush's favor but served as the foundation for his win.
Indeed, more and more pollsters and analysts are now saying that it appears President Bush got the vote of these traditional and evangelical religionists NOT so much because of his position on abortion or gays and NOT even because of his understanding of America's role in the world, but because he represents and validates their religious reality.
As one researcher put it, "These conservative Christians feel misunderstood and persecuted and believe Mr. Bush's victory and presence in the White house is their vindication... Every time Bush speaks of his faith or appears to act from it, he is signaling to those Christians who feel marginalized that they have, in fact, arrived at the center of American society."
And friends, when you step back and think about it, this certainly seems - to a significant degree - to be true. The reality of these traditionalists and evangelicals does indeed seem frequently to be reflected and vindicated by what comes out of the White House.
For instance, if what you are doing is part of God's plan, then no one should be surprised by or complain about a president who doesn't admit mistakes. Indeed, in a reality ruled by God's plan, there are no real mistakes; all is just as it should be.
If God uses people and countries to do his work, then what's so dangerous or inaccurate about labeling some countries "God's chosen" and others "absolute evil?"
If steadfast faith in the face of seemingly contradictory facts is a sign of virtue, then why shouldn't certainty, calm, and a resistance to doubt accompany the decisions of our strong and faithful leaders?
And if the Bible rather than science is the ultimate authority of right and wrong, then why isn't it completely logical and correct to enshrine the Biblical injunction against gay relationships in our constitutional law?
My point in listing all these rhetorical questions is simply to show that more has shifted in our culture than policies. A new mindset, a new reality now deeply influences the thinking and decisions of our country.
The evangelicals and traditionalists have seen this in a way that we liberal religionists have simply missed. They've understood what we never even imagined: that this election was never simply about which policies guide our country nor about what political party guides our country. It was largely about WHAT REALITY guides our country.
And given that it seems they've succeeded in voting that reality back into office, we liberal religionists most certainly have every reason to feel troubled, depressed and even scared.
But that's no place to end this sermon, right? What would you tell your friends: "Hey, guess what? You should really check out our church. Today our minister gave us a bunch of reasons to be depressed and scared!!"
No, in addition to understanding our depression and fear, we've also got to push ourselves now to ask, "What's the lesson in all this?" Our next step is to ask what action, what response does this realization call us to?
Frankly, I'm tempted to stop right there, because I hope this question is one that we as a congregation will struggle to answer together over the coming weeks and months.
But let me at least get that conversation started by ending today with one initial thought.
Putting it as simply as I can, I think one lesson in all this for us is that we - as liberal religionists - need to stop being snobs and start being sharers!
For far too long we as a movement have taken our religious worldview and held on to it tight, wearing it like a badge of honor that identifies us as special, allowing us to feel superior and encouraging us to look down on the poor masses of other folk who are too stupid or backward or not well read enough to understand or appreciate our supposedly sophisticated view of reality.
But if this election teaches us anything, friends, it must teach us that our selfish snobbery has to stop.
Instead, we need to cultivate and elevate that piece in each of us that sees our religious worldview as a gift, a gift given to us with the intention and even expectation that we will share it with others - all sorts of others.
You see, I just don't believe that the evangelical and traditionalist worldview is thriving because it's so compelling, comforting or even useful; I think it is thriving because it has no real competition.
Prior to Tuesday's vote, do you remember what all the pundits and campaigners were saying? Over and over again they said that this election is the most important election of our lifetime. I think they were right. And, frankly, I still think they are right, even though the election is over. This is still the most important election of our lifetime.
I don't know about you but I've found it helpful to keep reminding myself that this election wasn't won in a landslide but was basically a dead heat. Indeed, I like what one editorialist from the liberal magazine "The Christian Century" said. He said, "We've got to remember that both sides came out in larger numbers than ever before, so it is possible that this wasn't just the beginning of a reaction of the right to secularism and liberalism, but it might also just as easily turn out to be the beginning of a reaction by the center and the left against the forces of intolerance, blind certainty and a small concept of what religion and morality mean. It all depends," he says, "on what happens next."
To that I would add only this: for far too long people have assumed that the success of the traditional religious worldview rests on the strength of the conservative evangelicals. Well, I'm not so sure. Seems to me it depends even more on the existence and emergence of a new breed of evangelicals - "liberal evangelicals" - people so excited about and grateful for their liberal religious worldview that they simply can't help but share it with others!
So what do you say? Does such a breed of evangelicals exist?
I hope so.
Amen
November 7, 2004