For health
easy access to food
a warm, safe shelter
a job
family
the rare embrace of a hug
friends
information and ability to make sound decisions
the right to vote
access to the sacraments
books
friends’ cute babies
bubble baths.
I think one problem lending to this mess is the
lack of ritual in our lives. We have no shared culture, no shared understanding
of sacred ties that bind. We seek out what we please, and bind ourselves to
those identities. We need a shared foundation of what we, as a people, value.
I’m not talking about whitewashed American history
or patriotic propaganda, but I am talking about holding up the values we want
to strive for, even if we have failed to live up to them in the past: freedom,
justice, liberty, democracy.
The peaceful transfer of power is a benchmark
for how stable a democracy is. The first peaceful transfer of power in a new
democracy is hailed as a milestone in democratization and a sign of a
functioning civil society. It is the norm in America, but dozens of countries
have never had a successful peaceful transition of power. Just because it has
been the norm does not mean we can’t lose it. It must be instilled and defended,
as any other value.
Since 1801, presidents have peacefully
transferred power to a new president of a differing party. It was an early test
of the great experiment. A leader of a nation was not a king or a tyrant who
held on to power. It did not take assassination or revolt to overthrow him. The
people spoke, and he willing handed over his role to his rival. Because the
country and democracy was more important than one man or even one party. (And
the 1800 election was incredibly close.) Over time the transition became more bureaucratic
and more ritualized. There are the behind-the-scenes details like security
clearances and Cabinet picks and budgets. But the rituals are for the public,
to reassure them that the government is strong enough to continue through a
peaceful transition, that we can change out our leaders without chaos and
violence.
There is an election. The loser calls the
winner to concede and congratulate. The winner calls for post-election unity.
The outgoing administration helps the incoming administration with resources
and logistics. On the first Monday after the second Wednesday in December, the
electoral college votes, finalizing the election period. Then on January 20, at
noon (so each term is exactly the same length), the new president is sworn in, often
with the former president there to support him. Then the former administration
leaves peacefully for the new administration to take over.
Seeing these rituals are important. They teach
us, as any ritual does. The process is more important than one party. The
people are more powerful than one person. We are a nation capable of peacefully
choosing our leaders. Those fundamentals matter. And the rituals don’t seem
that important under you see the fundamentals start to disappear. Doubt and
discord threaten our peacefulness. We start seeing how easy it all falls apart if
we can’t agree to work together. The tie that binds is untied.
Our hold on any value or tradition is always
less than a generation away of being lost. We must not be complacent and expect
that everything will always remain the same and stable. Times will change, and
we must conscientiously carry our values on through. Rituals remind us of what matters,
teaches us who we are as a people, and instills our values in each repetition.
Under Peruvian law, those of African and native
decent were not allowed to become full members of religious orders. At 15, Martin
asked the local Dominicans to accept him as a “donado,” a lay volunteer/servant
who worked in the monastery in return for living with the community and wearing
their habit. He did kitchen work, laundry, and cleaning. In 1603, the prior
decided to ignore the law and allowed Martin to take vows as a third order
Dominican. While the prior showed him kindness, other brothers mocked him for being
mulatto, illegitimate, and descended from slaves.
He was assigned to the infirmary, where he cared
for the sick and became known for his (sometimes miraculous) healing and patience.
He also ministered to the sick outside of the monastery and showed no distinction
between status or race.
He lived an austere life beyond the rule of the
Dominicans. He did not eat meat and begged for alms to feed the poor. He also
founded a residence for orphans and abandoned children and raised dowries for
poor girls. He was beloved in Lima, and it was said he was gifted with many
miracles, including bilocation, instant cures, miraculous
knowledge, and an ability to communicate with animals.
St. Martin de Porres died on Nov. 3, 1639 after
suffering almost a year of illness. His feast day is (appropriately this year)
Nov. 3. He is the patron of mixed-race people, innkeepers, public health
workers, public schools, social justice, and those seeking racial harmony.
Time has gone a little wonky in 2020. Since March, we’ve all experienced differing phases of lockdown. Events are postponed. We’re told to wait. Wait for the numbers to dip before going out. Wait for a vaccine before resuming public life.
Last week was even more waiting. Wait for the
votes to be counted. Wait for the call to be made. Wait for our future to be
declared. The country waited
It’s been a test of patience, prudence, and charity.
Learning to live in the waiting and appreciate the wait. Working to do the
right thing at the right time. Trying to love those who oppose you, who refuse
the wait, and who work actively against the common good.
Advent begins in a few weeks, but this whole
year has been an advent. Something is coming. We do not know the day or hour.
But we must be patient. We must be ready.
The reading this past Sunday was the parable of the ten virgins. It reminds us to stay vigilant and ready. Something is coming. We can get fatigued in our exile. We can get turned off by the bombardment of distractions and lies. In the parable both the wise and foolish virgins fall asleep. That’s inevitable. But we must be prepared at all times so when we are called, we can wake up and answer. Change doesn’t come when we want it or when we expect it. Healing, justice, and the Messiah is coming. Just wait for it.
