Thinking About America

I spent last weekend muttering angrily about America. It’s just too much. Never mind that Trump is taking up way too much room in my head. The merciless bombing, by Russia, of Ukraine. Trump could stop it, but doesn’t, and it’s winter. Deliberately pushing civilians into bitter cold. Insulting Canadian airplanes, never mind how dependent regional airports in the US are on them. Invading Minneapolis, winter again. Hiring thugs to detain, beat up, and murder innocents. Encouraging a particularly nutty separatism in beautiful Alberta, lying about our prime minister, grifting, grafting, threatening, insulting, insulting, insulting.

And that’s just this past weekend. Americans. They voted for him, and opened the door to evil consequences for the world.

On Sunday, I went to church angry, not a good thing. Because it was my turn to offer the prayers of the people, an activity which should not force everyone present to allow Trumpian misdeeds to take up way too much room in their heads. These prayers are for thanksgiving and intercession: expressions of gratitude for land and water and love; and pleas for mercy and affection, of which — though always divinely present— we must constantly remind God we have great need. Or so we humans imagine.

But the first hymn was by Jim Strathdee, a truly wonderful American, singer, songwriter, all around epitome of kindness. I softened. A little. The anthem, strangely, was also by Jim Strathdee, and I was reminded of times spent on retreat, in British Columbia, with Jim and his equally kind spouse Jean offering such splendid music. This simple, lovely song was based on a passage from Isaiah that names what the Lord requires of us: Justice. Kindness. Humble walking with our God.

Oh. That. Humbly, I was forced to admit that many Americans do deserve our affection. Jim. Jean. And a multitude of brave folk in Minnesota, seeking justice and kindness, and putting their own safety on the line to do so.

The music, of course, did what music does. Bypassed the anger and went to the heart. When it was my turn to talk to God, I was able to offer genuine gratitude and real requests for help. Not that God cares if I am grumpy. God will do, lovingly, what God will do. But God’s beloved people have come to church for strength and comfort, and it’s good if they receive it.

So. Thinking about Americans. Not all good, not all bad, just human, like us. Maybe now getting strong enough, wise enough, to restore their tattered democracy. Maybe finding a way to seek the justice and kindness the world needs.

I’m working on a prayer about that.