I sit today in a state of tension. As a member of a family that was always interested in politics, who believed that compromises were a necessary part of the process, I looked forward even as a child to Election Day, knowing that either elation or disappointment would be the result – likely some of each depending on the year, but appreciation of the democratic process was a given.
Much has changed in our world in recent times and we are now in the midst of the most dangerous “moment” in our modern history and of the political process. Becoming part of a world in which technology plays a major role, we are also open to interference on an international scale, especially, at this moment, in our elections. Gone are the days when we could count on trusting the process – or the outcome as a simple result.
Last night as I listened to statistical projections on the television, I could feel the cheerleader in myself preparing for wild joy or deadening disappointment. Those feelings are still with me, and will likely remain through the weekend and the days to come. Just before I turned off the TV, however, I saw something on the screen that restored my hope. There were a number of images, flashed consecutively every few seconds, from different places across the country. They each depicted a polling place where lines of people stood silently moving toward the goal of casting their ballots. It was a striking image of the best in us as a country: people standing – likely for a long time, moving very slowly, peacefully, toward the fulfillment of the sacred duty that is part of the bedrock of our nation.
The phenomenon of participation unrivaled ever before in a national election in our country urges me to have hope in this time of turmoil. Now I can only pray for a transition of power equal to that hope in the days ahead.
In my absence today, here is a daily meditation from the monastic community, the 
Today is a day that calls for living in the moment…but is also prompting me to remember the consistent goodness of God: past, present and future. The grass couldn’t be greener, the sun is full up and drying the dew, the promise of the meteorologists is for a perfect late spring day. The psalmist sings: Each day I bless you, God of all; never will I forget the good that you have meant to me. (PS 103:2) I think of the graced conversations of yesterday – each one giving me something to think about or thank God for, so that the feelings and sensations of such a blessed day remain. While holding it all lightly, willing for the encounters to be like deposits in my spiritual bank account, I look toward today with a willingness to accept whatever befalls me. It is my hope to remember all day long that wonderful reality – also called to mind by Psalm 103 – that we swim in mercy as in an endless sea.
On this Friday morning as I sit waiting for the light to come, I offer a simple “Prayer of Awareness” from John Philip Newell’s book, Praying with the Earth. May it travel with us through the day.
From four sources this morning I heard the same message.
As I read today’s lectionary texts, I am struck once again with the necessity of living every moment to the fullest without grasping at the past or the future – which I no longer have or do not yet have (and maybe never will, who knows?). This is not a new theme but as I write I am hearing in my head some lines of a song by Greg Greenway, a wonderful musician and poet. The refrain goes like this: This is the light I carry. Tonight is a celebration. Have no complaints, sinners and saints, under the bright constellations…The hymnal’s wide open at the Church of What Is; let’s sing!
The Sophia Center for Spirituality 