The Gift of the Vote

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

I know it sounds crazy but I always weep when I vote. It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not because of the polarization in our country or that my chosen candidate is not likely to win. It’s not because I feel sad or tired or weary, though voting seasons can leave me feeling those emotions.

 I weep because I am always mindful of what was required from others for me to have the right to vote. I’ve seen the documentaries, read accounts of the women fighting for the right to vote. I know how they were jailed, force fed during their hunger strikes. I know they faced danger and harassment and suffered great losses for their commitment to pass the 19th amendment in 1919. I know those stories of courage.

 I weep because I remember in 1994 when South Africans stood in line for days to finally be able to cast their votes and elect Nelson Mandela as the nation’s president, finally putting an end to apartheid. I saw the news reports of the miles-long lines of people withstanding hunger, danger, and fatigue, refusing to give up and go home when they were forced to wait. I know those stories of perseverance.

 I weep because I think of people like Fannie Mae Hamer who was beaten because of her work for voters rights in the 1960’s, of how many times and how many places people of color were turned away from the polls, how many of them lost their jobs, their livelihoods, their lives, to get to the polls, how so many died trying to register voters or cast their ballots. I know those stories of faith.

 I weep because I know there are countless places in our world where religion and politics disallow women to vote, where the voting doesn’t matter because of corruption, and places where voting just simply doesn’t happen for anyone.

 Voting is not to be taken lightly.

This election will not bring us closer together. This election will not cure the ills of our nation or usher in some new world order of peace and unity. In many aspects, we have lost our way in knowing how to build bridges, how to work together, how to put aside our hatred and resentment and create a government and society that allows for differences, where leaders from all sides sit down at the table and are willing to listen to one another. I doubt the state of affairs will somehow become better no matter the election outcomes. Still, the right to vote was a costly one for our ancestors. The right to go and stand in line and cast a ballot is a great privilege that has been given to us on the backs of those who fought before us.

So, make sure to vote; and while you wait to be handed the long white sheet of paper; when you enter your private queue, take the pen and color in the circle of your choice; when you hand over your completed ballot and walk out the door, take a minute and remember this privilege that is ours today. Take a breath and be grateful.

 You might just shed a tear too.

Grief and Hope

by Karen MacDonald

When I wrote my last blog entry a few months ago, I was “speechless.”  So many of us were reeling from the national election results.  We were heartbroken, appalled, angry.  We were/are grieving.

I have also known deep, gut-wrenching personal grief in my life with the disruption of a cherished relationship.  Much of my speech then was moaning and sobbing.  Thank Goodness, that dark period turned out to be a womb and not only a tomb.  While I looked over the brink into utter despair and lifelessness, I emerged with a spiritual awakening into the indescribable gift of Life.  

Valerie Kaur has prompted us to consider “…what if this darkness isn’t the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb?  What if America is not dead but a country waiting to be born?”   To paraphrase her image, this chaotic, life-threatening period in our communal life could be a tomb and a womb—grief and hope.

The grief may include the death of optimism that missed the depth of fear and pain that always lurks below the surface of what appears to be social progress, that always paints the lives of those suppressed/oppressed, that always tinges the views of those afraid of losing position.

The hope is that we have today—Life has graced us with sun, Earth, breath once again.  We get to live, we are indeed from and of Life itself.  Regardless of how things turn out, the hope is in this question, “How do I want to express Life today?” —and in how we try to show our answer.

Speechless

by Karen MacDonald

I don’t know what to say today.

So in the midst of being heartbroken, I step outside this early morning and breathe in life. The waxing super-moon is veiled in thin clouds, throwing soft tree-shadows on the yard. The Big Dipper has wheeled around into the north sky. The wispy clouds on the horizon begin to show tinges of deep pink sunlight……Breathe…..Breathe….

The sun is still burning and the Earth is still turning—and we’re amazingly being given another day.

In the midst of being appalled, I seek the company of those also hurting and seeking hope. Together we pray and tell stories and cry and sing and hold silence and reach for the Spirit of Life.

In the midst of being angry, I re-visit what I wrote in June after the shooting in Orlando: “And we have to do this [pray and act] with an open heart and a spirit of love for all.

‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled.’

‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.’”  

Somehow, someday, maybe beginning today in the midst of deep emotions, may we all find a way to shalom, to peace, to well-being for all beings on this beautiful Earth.

Hope of Seeds

by Abigail Conley

My church is kicking off a stewardship campaign this week. We chose the theme, “From seeds to fruit.” Today, I finished up posters with images of those steps. Mostly, though, I’ve been thinking about seeds.

I grew up on a farm, with a father who worked at a farm supply store. I remember being in the back of the store with giant bins of seeds. I’m pretty sure most people, when they think of seeds, think of the kind you plant. They think of seeds that create corn, beans and pumpkins. They think of seeds that are distinct. They think of seeds that can often be eaten or planted.

When I think of seeds, though, I think of the tiny ones that are sown. Sowing seeds sounds so eloquent, biblical even. In reality, it’s far more chaotic. Seeds that are sown are tiny, and more or less strewn into rows, or maybe seedbeds, or small pots. They’re never carefully placed like seeds of larger varieties. The tiny seeds that would be sown were the ones that filled up the bins in the back of the farm store of my childhood. I never got my fill of running my hands through them. My dad knew what each one was, of course. Many of them were grass seeds. I remember the way they flowed through my hands, softer, silkier than any fabric could ever be.

Believing those tiny seeds could produce anything was an act of faith. The seeds were so tiny, no one was even worried about the ones that spilled onto the ground when they were bagged for a customer. Of course, I recall Jesus’ words, “…faith the size of a mustard seed…”

Those of us who live apart from the rhythm of sowing or planting, waiting, and harvesting, miss out a little. We miss out on the beauty of a small plant peeking out of the ground. We miss out on the worry of too much or too little water. We miss out on the goodness of going out and picking our food to eat that very night. We miss out on that rhythm that offers a deep hope in the order of the world. It is a rhythm nearly as old as humanity, after all.

So I think about seeds, seeds that point to that rhythm, and let my body grow calm and my mind cease its worry. The anxieties of life run deep for me, as they do for most of us. There are many things to be done in my own life—and after all, if not me, who? I wait for an election days away, wondering if the outcome drastically alters my life. As they should, my friends remind me of the things I shouldn’t let slip from my view because they are the things of God. They are voting early in suffragette white. They drive by the places where people of color were killed, forgotten by most only days later. They call me to vigils for those things and others, like domestic violence, one of those things that is supposed to draw our awareness this month.

I know they struggle to remember those things, too, among jobs, and marriages, children to take care of, and babies on the way.  

And I remember seeds.

I trust in the promise that they hold: our future is full of hope. Some days, that hope is evident, like a bit of green breaking the dirt for the first time. Some days, that hope is realized, like the bite of an apple when the first hint of cool is in the air.

And some days, that hope is buried beneath the earth, waiting. Just waiting. The rhythm of life long established will take over at any time, as holy as God’s ordering of the world in the first days of creation.

So today, I think about seeds.

Build a Budget, Don’t Cut One

by Rev. Dr. William M. Lyons

As a Christian and as faith leader for the United Church of Christ in New Mexico, I know that the moral solution to New Mexico’s financial crisis is adopting a state budget that includes spending levels and increased revenue streams sufficient to assure the wellbeing of all New Mexico residents.

New Mexico’s financial crisis was not caused by wasteful spending; it was caused by not replacing lost revenues while repeatedly cutting taxes, resulting in an inadequate revenue stream. New Mexico’s budget no longer needs to be balanced on the backs of the state’s most vulnerable residents.

So where have state leaders’ previous efforts to cut their way to a balanced budget led?

New Mexico has the highest child poverty rate in the nation.[1]

  • 2 in 10 New Mexicans don’t have enough food;[2] 70,000 New Mexicans are helped with food each week.  That is equivalent of feeding the entire city of Santa Fe weekly.
  • New Mexico’s high school graduation rate is 47th in the nation; 40% of New Mexico high schools graduate less than 67% of their students.[3]
  • Our crime rate is 43% higher than the national average (and the highest in the country per 100K people)[4]
  • 44% of New Mexico’s released inmates are re-incarcerated
  • CRN Magazine ranks New Mexico 50th in quality of life;[5] while CNBC ranks NM 39th in its list of top states for business.

New Mexico’s elected leaders have under-spent New Mexico into being one of the bleakest places to live in America.

This is a solvable problem! Instead of considering only budget cuts in the search for a solution, we must consider every option. Eliminate previously passed tax cuts and adopt fair and adequate tax increases. And don’t take “veto” for answer!

To do otherwise is

to steal meals from the bellies of hungry ones
to wring dry already thirsty ones
to force families from their beds into homelessness
to close shivering ones out in the cold
to abandon sick ones and confined ones in their despair

Jesus told a story about times like ours. It’s a warning story foreshadowing a judgement day.

“When he finally arrives, blazing in beauty and all his angels with him, the Son of Man will take his place on his glorious throne. Then all [peoples] will be arranged before him and he will sort the people out, much as a shepherd sorts out sheep and goats, putting sheep to [one side] and goats to [the other].[6]

41–43         [The One doing the sorting] “will turn to the ‘goats,’… and say, ‘Get out, worthless goats! You’re good for nothing but the fires of hell. And why? Because—

I was hungry and you gave me no meal,
I was thirsty and you gave me no drink,
I was homeless and you gave me no bed,
I was shivering and you gave me no clothes,
Sick and in prison, and you never visited.’

44   “Then those ‘goats’ are going to say, ‘Master, what are you talking about? When did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or homeless or shivering or sick or in prison and didn’t help?’

45   “He will answer them, ‘I’m telling the solemn truth: Whenever you failed to do one of these things to someone who was being overlooked or ignored, that was me—you failed to do it to me.’[7]

Nov. 8 is a judgement day too. When New Mexico voters fill read their ballots, they’ll ask themselves, “Which name here has made it easier to keep food on my table? Which candidate will quench my thirst for a better future? Which name is most likely to help me keep a roof over our heads, and have some left over to give the kids a nice Christmas? Who is most likely to remember I am a person – not a statistic or an issue – and will govern with real people like me in mind?

We will know the feeling that budgets balanced only with cuts, stab at the heart of our values. We will remember how long Governor Martinez plays politics with our well-being before she calls the legislature into special session to engage the crisis. We will recall if the members of the round house built a budget or simply cut one. We will ask ourselves, “How long before my family’s well-being is jeopardized -or further jeopardized – by business or politics as usual? And then we’ll make our judgments and mark our ballots.

There is yet hope! The words recorded in the Book of Isaiah point us to a new path if we will dare to take it:

If you are generous with the hungry and start giving yourselves to the down-and-out,

Your lives will begin to glow in the darkness, your shadowed lives will be bathed in sunlight.

You’ll be known as [ones] who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate,

make the community livable again.[8]

[1] http://www.santafenewmexican.com/news/local_news/new-study-finds-new-mexico-has-the-highest-rate-of/article_a81c6cd6-bc2b-55f5-a96a-7a90742d2379.html

[2] http://map.feedingamerica.org/county/2014/overall/new-mexico

[3] http://www.usnews.com/education/best-high-schools/articles/2016-05-24/see-which-states-have-the-highest-high-school-graduation-rates

[4] http://nicic.gov/statestats/?st=NM

[5] http://www.crn.com/slide-shows/channel-programs/300074347/the-best-and-worst-states-for-quality-of-life-personal-cost-of-living.htm/pgno/0/10

[6] Peterson, E. H. (2005). The Message: the Bible in contemporary language (Mt 25:31–33). Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress.

[7] Peterson, E. H. (2005). The Message: the Bible in contemporary language (Mt 25:41–46). Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress.

[8] Peterson, E. H. (2005). The Message: the Bible in contemporary language (Is 58:9–12). Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress.