In the Age of Trump: All of Creation is Calling to Us
Listen for a second. Can you feel it? That pulsating…. When I stop thinking so hard. When I stop trying to comprehend how this political moment happened. When I stop trying to strategize the next moment, and take a pause from chasing after my people to make sure they’re still alive… After the tears and before the hope, it comes to me. And it sounds like Truth to my Spirit... like a call to my aching heart. When I am still, when I get out of my own head, out of my own way, I can feel it come into me. That pulsating thing, under my feet. Flowing from the depths of the earth, through the black fertile soil under my feet— The seeds breaking through the hard clumpy dirt to reach the sun…
Can you feel it? Listen. There it is again… Rise. Rise. Rise. It is as if all of Creation is pulling for us. In all its many forms telling us not to let this be our dying day: Rise. Rise. Rise. The ocean tides rhythmically against the sand: Rise. Rise. Rise. The super moon flooding us with light, creating shadows in her wake, just over the horizon: Rise. Rise. Rise. The wind sweeping us off our feet, strong and cold, keeping the calling birds aloft in flight: Rise. Rise. Rise. The doe gently nudging her fawn after birth: Rise. Rise. Rise. The thunder storming down upon our ears: Don’t let this be your deathbed! Don’t let this be your end!
Rise. Rise. Rise. The sun, burning off the chill of apathy with hot stinging fingers, calling our souls like the vapor: Rise. Rise. Rise.
This is still more death to come; we can smell the decay. It scares us, and we grieve the truth that has been revealed in us and dread the helplessness of what comes next. But we are a people who Rise and Rise and Rise.
Time and time again, we have faced impossible odds. We have felt the looming fear of uncertainty and heard the sharpening of the executioners’ blade in our ears. Death is a familiar stench. We know it too well; the taste of iron still fresh in the blood that fills our mouths. Mouthfuls of hate rather than the bounty of earth that we each and every one deserve. This moment is a victory for fear and hate. It threatens our very lives. But let us Rise Up and remember that we are an Easter People. We may not all be Christians, but we all attest to power of the resurrection: of souls renewed and bodies healed and minds opened and movements changed. May the death that comes be that of the systems that kill us, rather than the bloodshed of the ones we love. May a theology of Life shine through the thick fog and the Truth of Abundance be made clear to show us the way. It is time for a moral awakening in this land. It is time for a reckoning. It is time for repentance and renewal. It is time for the Easter People to Rise Up and set the souls of the peoples aflame with the good news of great joy which has always been, and must always be, for all of the people. Amen.