By Steven Norris
The ballots have been cast and counted. The political phone calls and text messages have been silenced. No more ads fill our television or computer screens. A winner has been declared. Some are jubilant. Others lament. Some are angry. Others are afraid. Now, the time of healing begins.
I do not believe this is a time for gloating, even if your candidate came out on top. I do not believe this is a time for despair, even if your candidate lost. This is a time to pause, center ourselves, and pray — to pray that those currently serving will finish their respective terms well and that those newly elected will govern wisely.
I find that it is a time to reflect and take responsibility for what is “mine to do” in this moment. In the midst of large political and societal “machines” that function beyond our control, I have to take responsibility for my response to such stimuli. Personally, I find the “Prayer of Peace” attributed to St. Francis of Assisi to be particularly helpful:
“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light. Where there is sadness, joy. O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”
Regardless of your particular candidate’s outcome, you can choose to be an instrument of peace in the days, weeks, months, and years that follow. We can choose to follow the Way of Christ, the King of kings, and the Lamb who was slain for us.
As people of faith, there is much work to be done. There are hungry mouths that will show up at our door this week, needing to be fed. There will be parched throats that come across our paths, needing a cup of cool water. There will be strangers in need of a community to embrace them and show them radical hospitality and love. There will be naked individuals that show up, needing clothes to protect their bodies against the cold. There will be sick individuals who need to be visited and hugged and for whom we will pray. There will be prisoners who need to be reminded by a personal visit that there is hope for redemption.
In short, for those with eyes to see it, Jesus will show up on your doorstep this week, donning the flesh of the least likely person you might imagine. We will have the opportunity to serve Christ in our brothers and sisters. We will have the opportunity to put our faith in action and to be an agent of healing for a nation that is battered and bruised.