Reflections On The Election Courtesy Of My 3-Year Old

Tuesday morning, when my family headed for the polls, I asked our three year-old if she understood where we were going and why.  "Yes," she said matter-of-factly, "the baptism".  

I smiled and corrected her, "no, sweetie, the election.  We’re going to vote."  How cute that she had confused two recent public events in her life:  the baptism of her baby brother, and the election of (as she likes to say:) "Obamaaaaa!"   But of course she was teaching me something, and in the hours since yesterday morning, her way of framing this event has been like a halo illuminating my own understanding.  

The build-up to this reality – An America with Barack Obama as our President- has been a long one.  Agonizingly long.  Yesterday as it was getting dark and I was running around town getting stuff done, before putting the kids to bed and watching the returns, I felt something shifting in my soul.  And I knew, without having to think about it, what it was:  it was the sensation of something heavy and silent and persistent being lifted.  The weight of George Bush’s leadership being peeled away.  

I flashed back to the days following the 2000 presidential election, a sort of nightmarish, dazed period in which I walked around unconsciously shaking my head  – "Is this really happening?";  I flashed back to the cold, creeping tension that hit my stomach in a sudden moment in January, 2002 when I watched George Bush on television and heard him annunciate the phrase "Axis of Evil" followed by the names of three countries that were unrelated to the horrors just perpetrated against my country, my city;  I remembered teaching a Lenten Bible study one evening in March 5th 2003,  as we prayed our way through the final moments of Bush’s ultimatum to Saddam Hussein, and studied the first chapter of Genesis while American bombs fell on Baghdad; I remembered the eerie, quicksand-like experience of spending a few hours in the summer of 2004, working with the Kerry campaigns in Ohio and Pennsylvania, and feeling like there was no traction, no excitement, and diminishing hope.

These are the specific moments that my psyche called up yesterday evening; but that heavy, silent, persistent weight on my soul had been formed by a very long series of  actions accumulated by our country’s leadership over the past eight years.  

Lies told, rights stripped, suffering disrespected, greed rewarded, irresponsibility promoted, humanity diminished.  

And what has made this soul-ache of mine so very deep is that it had become hard to distinguish: all this was being done to my country, but because it was done by a twice-elected leadership, it was also being done by my country.

And yesterday, that heavy burden that had become part of my being, began to lift.  My soul didn’t need to wait, apparently, for the returns, or even for any news from exit polls.  Because the election of Barack Obama was not something that was maybe or maybe not going to be done to my country on November 4th, 2008.  It was something that we did.  Over the past few weeks, I have encountered the hope and passion and activism of people all over this country who – like me! – were throwing their soul’s energy behind Obama’s candidacy as they never have before for a presidential candidate.  Over the past few weeks I decided that I wanted to be proactive against the possibility of a fraudulent election process, and I discovered there were brilliantly organized efforts already in play to which I could lend support.  Over the past few weeks I learned about early voting, and helped people who helped people who voted early in droves.  Tuesday evening, my soul felt the rumbling of Obama’s victory like an oncoming train.  It hadn’t pulled into the station but there was no doubt it was on its way.  Not only had I seen the signs, I had partaken in them.

Which brings me back to baptism.  Baptized as an adult, it wasn’t just something that happened to me, it was something I chose to do.  When I was baptized it was the culmination of serious discernment and preparation that had been going on for a long time.   It was the celebration of a commitment that I had already made in my heart.  It was the fulfillment of a promise.  

Maybe my three-year old knew what she was talking about when she called our trip to the polls a baptism.  The culmination, the celebration, the fulfillment…they were all there with us.  Collectively, we as a nation had been working towards this choice, and this was the time to make it count.

But there’s more.  My own baptism was a sacrament that didn’t just bring together the meaning and intention of my own past  — it was a sign that pointed forward as well.  If I may say something downright religious:  more than just honoring the relationship that already existed between me and Christ, my baptism gave a power to that relationship that still feeds me.

Maybe my three-year old was onto something when she called election baptism.  
I hope that in exploring this analogy I will not be misconstrued as saying that I think electing a president is a religious act.  Or that I think the president’s role is a Christian one.  No!  What I am aware of, though, is that what makes baptism sacramental is the power that it brings.  Likewise, in voting for Barack Obama, we have given him the power to be our president.  Our vote doesn’t just stand for something, or recognize something, or hope for something.  It actually has the power to give new life.  Today – November 5th, 2008 – I feel different.  My country feels like it has new life.  

The election has lifted a burden from my soul.  And now our country launches into a rebirth of sorts.  Let’s see where we go from here.