The Day Hope Defeated Cynicism

I was there. I bought the t-shirt.

At 6pm today, I bought the Obama victory t-shirt. It was, I suppose, a foolish purchase. It was a sign that I had counted my chicks before they hatched. And I certainly knew better. I had gotten my hopes up in 2004 only to have them crushed. For weeks, I had been warning myself not to get too hopeful this time. Its embarrassing to believe in something which is not true. As often happens, I was so afraid of being wrong, of looking foolish or naïve, that I preferred to believe nothing, to make no prediction at all rather than risk being disappointed. Better to take the safe road of cynicism.

Hours later, I stood in Grant Park, waiting and watching. Within seconds of the polls in California closing, Obama’s victory was declared. Barack Obama will be the next President of the United States. I screamed, I jumped, I hugged everyone around me. But when the dust settled, I admit I trembled with doubt. How could Obama live up to the expectations we have set for him? Isn’t it quite likely that he won’t be able to pull us out of our economic turmoil, that he won’t be able to fix the quagmire in Iraq, that he won’t even get much done in government since the Democrats still don’t have a filibuster-proof majority in the Senate. No, I thought, it would be foolish to hope that our country will really change. Better to take the safe road of cynicism.

When the speeches were done, and our cheering subsided, the enormous crowd moved to the exits. We began looking for our buses and trains that would take us back to homes, to our usual lives, our usual problems. As I walked up Jackson Blvd, I saw ahead of me an endless sea of people. I turned back and saw the crowd stretching to the Lake Shore. We were enormous. Block after block, we moved forward, turning normally busy streets into a forceful river of people. Though strangers, we moved together, side by side, in a sort of stunned silence. Was it really over? Had it really happened? Now that the speech is done and the election is won, what happens next? "Check out all the riot gear," my friend said, "I guess the police expected the worst." Yes, I thought, better to take the safe road of cynicism.

Then, like a clarion call, a voice rang out, "O-BAM-A!" As if suddenly awakened, the crowd jumped to attention. We looked at one another as if surprised to see that we were not walking alone, as if we’d suddenly remembered why we were all together at that moment. "O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A!" We began cheering, whistling, clapping. I suddenly realized that the streets of Chicago had been taken over by a mob, a multi-racial, multi-ethnic, multi-generational mob. Without rioting, we had taken over the city of Chicago. We were marching triumphantly in celebration of what hope had accomplished.

And that’s when I realized. The cynic in me did not believe that Barack Obama would really change anything. And I was right in that, on his own, Obama will do very little. But we, the people who elected him, the people who fought against fear, hate, and division, we were discovering that we can do anything. We can take over the streets of Chicago with peace, joy, and hope – why couldn’t we help our political leaders change America?

In a world of relentless disappointments, cynicism and/or apathy may seem like the only way we can protect ourselves from continued pain and embarrassment. But our Christian faith has taught us that hope, though it may seem foolish to others, is precisely what lets us move forward. The kingdom of God cannot be brought about by cynicism, but instead requires hope and faith. A bold faith in that which cannot be seen and the faith to courageously take steps toward an improbable future.