For bloggers, there
is one cardinal rule: avoid religion and politics. Tonight I am breaking that
rule because those two subjects are what’s on my mind, so closely intertwined
that I cannot separate them. As I have often said, my faith dictates my
politics. And roughly quoted from Richard Rohr, my faith compels me to speak
out.
Our minister’s sermon
this morning took as text the words of the angel to Mary, from the Book of
Luke: “Be not afraid.” It is so easy in these trouble times to be governed by
fear. Indeed, fear is a tool used by others to shape our lives, from the
politician’s mouth to the commercial world. We are afraid of change, of wars
with which we are continually threated, of climate change which surrounds us,
of disease, of immigrants. For heaven’s sake, in this age, I am afraid of
traffickers who kidnap innocent teenagers. There is plenty in today’s world to
fear.
Perhaps it is
because of that fear that the underlying message of Christmas resonates with me
particularly this year. Christians have heard all their lives that God’s gift
to us of his son brings hope. And in spite of the fearful world we live in, I
find that I am filled with hope. I am sure that we are going through our own Dark
Ages but will emerge triumphant on the other side. Rohr says that the dark is necessary
to the light—we must know fear to recognize hope.
For me, hope has a
particular meaning tonight—or target, if you will. I hope for the preservation of
our democracy, the defense of our Constitution. For that hope to become a reality,
some false gods—read Republicans—are going to have to topple. And it may take
every American to make that happen.
As the Congress
moves forward with impeachment proceedings, I am baffled by the Republicans and
the cult followers who defend Mr. trump. It seems to clear to me that the House
Committee, under Adam Schiff, has proven his culpability beyond a doubt. His defenders
have no defense so they resort to empty arguments, like ignoring the will of
the people who elected trump. As Stephen King points out, he lost the popular
vote by some three million and is only president because of the antiquated
electoral college, which King likened to a one-mule wagon in an age of jet
transport.
Because they have
no solid defense, Republicans resort to several empty arguments, among them the
accusation that the impeachment proceedings are illegal, a witch hunt, a politically
motivated attempt to remove the president. The proceedings, however, are following
the dictates of the Constitution and are, far from a witch hunt, a legal
proceeding. As someone pointed out this morning, trump is not being impeached
because most Americans hate him—he’s being impeached because he has violated
his oath of office and abused the power of his office. Whether or not
obstruction of justice is part of the final articles of impeachment remains to
be seen, but he is also clearly guilty of it. But it is not hate—being booed at
a ball game is hate.
If the Senate
votes to acquit, as they may well—another thing that boggles my mind—we will
have no recourse except the voting booth, and a fervent prayer that the
elections are not so corrupted as to sweep trump and his henchmen into office
for another term.
Another thing that
is not mentioned on either side of the aisle but seems increasingly clear to
all who will recognize it: the president’s mental state is rapidly
deteriorating, a judgment confirmed by mental health professionals. But that’s a
whole other bag of worms.
I guess this is
where hope comes in—hope backed by faith and supported by the actions of every
American. Time to be proactive.
Forgive me for breaking
the rules. I don’t do it often. Usually I am Pollyanna.
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