November 8, 2024

During my last year in seminary, on the day after the 2016 presidential election, my liturgy professor walked into our class. He knew, of course, that there were many complicated emotions swirling around. He asked the class to open the Book of Common Prayer to Psalm 46, and we prayed together:

God is our refuge and strength, *
    a very present help in trouble. 

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be moved, *
    and though the mountains be toppled into the
                             depths of the sea; 

Though its waters rage and foam, *
    and though the mountains tremble at its tumult. 

The LORD of hosts is with us; *
    the God of Jacob is our stronghold.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, *
    the holy habitation of the Most High.

God is in the midst of her;
she shall not be overthrown; *
    God shall help her at the break of day. 

The nations make much ado, and the kingdoms are shaken; *
    God has spoken, and the earth shall melt away. 

The LORD of hosts is with us; *
    the God of Jacob is our stronghold. 

Come now and look upon the works of the LORD, *
    what awesome things he has done on earth. 

It is he who makes war to cease in all the world; *
    he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear,
    and burns the shields with fire.

"Be still, then, and know that I am God; *
    I will be exalted among the nations;
    I will be exalted in the earth." 

The LORD of hosts is with us; *
    the God of Jacob is our stronghold.

Then, we all closed our prayer books, and we had class. It was so simple and yet so profound. What the class needed that day—and there were conflicting political perspectives in that class—was a reminder that God is our rock. No earthly ruler is our rock. No human being is our savior. And even if our world seems to be falling apart, the LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.

So, now, just a few days after another major presidential election held in the midst of searing divisiveness, the Church must remember her roots. If you’re disappointed or dismayed with the results, please remember that we’re called to hope—not to be unrealistic or naive, but to hope. This doesn’t diminish our very real fear and anxiety, but hope comes to us within such emotions. Be honest about how you’re feeling; God can handle it. But, ultimately, hope means trusting that the Lord of hosts is with us, even in the valley of the shadow of death. If you’re pleased with the election results, please remember that for many, the results have brought great fear and pain. The election results are deeply personal for many vulnerable citizens. So, for you who might be content with the election outcome, remember, too, that God alone is our hope and strength, something no earthly ruler or government can claim to be.

Emotional times are dangerous times because we can lose our moorings. We may say things we regret. We may make drastic decisions. Social media doesn’t help any of this. But be wary, because in these moments we’re vulnerable to the wiles of the great Deceiver, the Devil. He will prey on our disagreements and despair. He will try to turn us against one another. It’s precisely at this moment, as the Church, that we should remember what we hold in common and what we believe. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. No mortal being can validly make that claim. As the wonderful hymn tells us, “Mortal pride and earthly glory, sword and crown betray our trust; though with care and toil we build them, tower and temple fall to dust” (#665, “All my hope on God is founded,” Robert Seymour Bridges, in The Hymnal 1982).

Is not this, then, a moment for the Church to rise in strength? Our prayer book catechism says that the mission of the Church is “to restore all people to unity with God and each other in Christ” (p. 855). No matter how we feel about this past Tuesday, restoration is our calling. Nothing should get in the way of this. There may be moments in the coming years in which the Church will be called to make difficult decisions to remain true to the Gospel. Time will tell. But we don’t know nor can we predict the future. All we can do is embrace our call from God to be people of restoration and reconciliation, of love, hope, and peace.

At Good Shepherd, I believe we will do this. I believe we will seek reconciliation with one another. If we have wronged another, we will ask for God’s forgiveness. If our conscience is troubling us about something, we can avail ourselves of the healing grace found in the Sacrament of Reconciliation (private confession). We will be a place that stands out from “the world/cosmos” in that we will humbly recognize that we are all sinners in need of God’s mercy and forgiveness. This, in fact, binds us together rather than driving us apart. We will find our deepest communion/restoration with God and one another in the Sacrament of the Eucharist. We will proclaim that every human being has dignity in the eyes of God. We will welcome the stranger and those on the margins. We will strive to love as Jesus loved. While we may speak words of disagreement at times, we will always speak them in charity. We will proclaim the Great Commandment and teach it to our children so they can teach it to their children: Love God and love your neighbor as yourself. We will embrace every person who comes here, regardless of their social status, sexual orientation, political views, gender identity, or background, and we will ensure that our speech to one another is honest but charitable. We will be a safe place if other places become dangerous. We will commit ourselves to being united despite our differences rather than divided by them. We’re children of the Gospel, and nothing else can claim our ultimate loyalty. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.

As your priest, I will be here for you to talk or listen if you’re in despair. I am your priest regardless of where you are emotionally in the aftermath of Tuesday’s election. Do not hesitate to call me or reach out at anytime. We’re accountable to one another as fellow Christians on the Way. We’re all here together, sinners loved and redeemed by God, working out our salvation with fear and trembling.

Perhaps this Sunday is an especially appropriate time for Commitment Sunday. It is, practically speaking, the day in which we bring our pledge cards to Mass as visible signs of our financial commitment to ministry in this parish. But it’s much more than that. By making a commitment to ministry at Good Shepherd, we’re making a wholistic commitment to the values of the Gospel. We’re committing to be together in love. We’re committing ourselves to love God, self, and neighbor. We’re committing ourselves to reconciliation, not to division. These are all values that we hold dear at Good Shepherd, and it’s what makes this parish such a profoundly beautiful place.

Above all, let us pray for and with one another. If you feel helpless and without answers, extend grace to yourself and ask God for strength and patience. Ask your fellow parishioners or me for support. If you’re feeling content and proud, pray as well; ask for humility and remember those who are in despair right now. We have one Savior, and he is our Lord Jesus Christ. We have one God, and he is to be worshipped and adored with all that we are and have. The Holy Spirit is still moving among us, always calling us to greater unity, to love, and to peace. Remember what Jesus told his followers: in our hour of anguish and need, the Holy Spirit will teach us what to say (Luke 12:12). May that be so. And remember: The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. He always has been, and he always will be.

Yours in Christ,
Father Kyle