Dear Westwood Community,

It’s Election Day as I write this, and I’ve been having a hard time focusing on the task in front of me. I’m aware of the BIG DECISIONS being made today through our democratic process. I know that they will have significant consequences, especially for the most vulnerable in our communities.

I filled out my ballot last night, sitting at my kitchen table. It was heartening to have so many bubbles to fill in, including so many that represent the values of our faith. Ballot measures and propositions I could vote on, as I seek to protect specific rights for my neighbors, promote equality, and overcome injustice.

Now, I just want to know how it’s going to turn out: I don’t much like waiting. I know the detailed charts and endless analysis on my television and in my news feed are just making me feel more anxious. I am worried about the real consequences of our decisions for people I know and love.

So, I decided to do some devotional reading, spending time with wisdom from Julian of Norwich, that 14th century mystic who famously described the confident assurance of divine love that she felt. Her insight came in the midst of a near-death experience (and in the midst of a devastating plague!): “all will be well, and all will be well, and every kind of thing shall be well.”

Mirabai Starr recently re-translated Julian’s “Revelations of Divine Love” into modern English, published as The Showings, and it’s beautiful, and provocative. Julian’s reflections on God begin from the uncomfortable, agonizing place of suffering. Most of my life, I have sought to avoid intense pain; Julian prayed for an experience of Christ’s passion. It is in Christ’s suffering that she is able to perceive the depth of God’s love for all humanity, for all creation. “Our Savior and our salvation are open and clear, beautiful and luminous and ample,” she writes.

In the tension, in the waiting, in the longing, our thirst for unity with God draws us to one another; God’s love becomes distinct and clear.

I believe that our faith calls us to participate in our democracy–to use power and agency to labor for structures and leadership that reflect our values. We are called to advocate and vote for compassion, justice, and love.

And also, at the same time, we are called to recognize that our connection to those values is not dependent on the success of any particular candidate or policy in any given election. Our commitments run much deeper. They remain true when it seems like we’re losing everything, and if it seems like no one really represents us, and they remain true when they require us to keep advocating, even if “our” candidate wins.

This has been a wild season in our national story. Disturbingly, voices that claim to be Christian have loudly proclaimed values that are directly opposite of those we hold as central to the Gospel, sowing fear and hatred and division. This is not the message of our faith. Instead, we are called to love–and also to joy. I know that there is so much work ahead, as we labor to build connections with all our neighbors.

Today, I woke up to a gospel song that a friend shared with me today, written by Shirley Caesar and sung by the Resistance Revival Chorus: “This joy that I have, the world didn’t give it to me. The world didn’t give it, the world can’t take it away.” It was a needed reminder that we are recipients of powerful grace, and love that is stronger than death. We are called to joy–not dependent on the circumstances. It will give us strength for the journey of whatever will be ahead. Thanks be to God.

grace and peace,

Pastor Molly