Dear People of St. James’,
Today we woke up in a state that now requires hospitals to ask patients about their citizenship status. Patients, by the way, are not required to answer this question in order to receive care. This executive order is emblematic of the fear mongering approach of state leadership and the lack of compassionate consideration of the basic human needs of the vulnerable at a time rife with fear.
On Wednesday night, the St. James’ Vestry gathered, and once we got other business done, we spent some considerable amount of time reflecting together on this moment and thinking about how St. James’ Episcopal Church/Iglesia Episcopal de Santiago might be called to respond. A number of Vestry members observed that this election feels different, and that the blanket of anxiety that seems to cover us all seems heavier this time. We spoke of the likelihood of prolonged uncertainty, and what it means to live with that: how to recognize and name our feelings, how to self-regulate, how to help children and elders during this time, how to place dialogue and kindness and sheltering the vulnerable at the forefront of our lives. We talked about what it means to be in this 50/50 country and in Texas. We talked about the shameful violence of the rhetoric of this time, particularly rhetoric targeting vulnerable communities, and we worried about other sorts of violence. We acknowledged the division between the documented and the undocumented. We spent time thinking about what we learned in the aftermath of the 2016 and 2020 elections.
In the midst of this conversation, we remembered the example set by those who came before us and who founded St. James’ during segregation, who faced Jim and Jane Crow, who taught us the importance and the sacred privilege of voting, who showed us ways to shelter the vulnerable and to feed the hungry even when systems are designed to keep them vulnerable and hungry, who reminded us that local elections and state elections as well as presidential and congressional elections have real consequences for our neighbors. We called to mind their faithfulness to one another, to coming together in prayer, to nurturing hope in themselves and in one another, to knowing that each of us is called by Christ into a long distance race toward freedom and peace and justice. It is hard to run this race when faced by the gusting winds of division, but our scriptures tell us that a way has been made even through this wilderness because God wants us all to come through it fully alive in Christ.
On this Feast of All Saints, an ofrenda stands in our narthex scattered with reminders of those who have modeled for us faith, hope, and love on this journey. I invite you to remember those who now surround us in that great cloud of witnesses. They look on, watching how we will encounter the challenges of this time, urging us on to greater love and faithfulness to one another and greater courage in the time of trouble, shouting out and reminding us of the promises of God and the powerful nonviolent protest of Jesus against violence, hatred and oppression. Oh, and many several of them are reminding us to vote!
If you are fearful during this time, remember that fear is often the companion of great courage. If you are feeling alone during this time, come to the table and find and be found by brothers and sisters, siblings, in Christ. If you don’t know what to say, come pray the prayers and sing the songs that many facing other times of trouble have sung. If you are feeling hopeless, come lean on the hope of others for a moment. You are not forgotten. You are not alone. You are beloved.
Sunday is coming. Let’s be together on that day.
Rev. Eileen
