Make me an instrument

About a month ago we got a little booklet with our paychecks: "Prayers for a Peaceful World." It's a set of daily prayers for "peace in our hearts, our community, our nation, and our world." Every morning, after I fire up my computer and while I'm waiting for my spam filter to completely fail to do it's thing, I read the day's prayer. Fridays are my favorite day for this, because on Fridays we read the prayer of St. Francis.

Actually, I try to pray the prayer of St. Francis every day. I gets to the heart of what we are supposed to do and be, I think--instruments of God's work to each other. Don't despair because other people are despairing, usually for better reasons that you are, and you are needed to comfort them; don't lose hope, because other people have lost theirs and need to share yours; don't worry about getting consolation, understanding, or love, just provide them for other people.
As you can imagine, I've been rather disconsolate, despairing, and hopeless over the results of the election. I really wanted to post something about how the country has survived through much, much worse: civil war and Andrew Jackson and Richard Nixon and depression and Vietnam and million other tragedies and scandals petty and great, and that there's really no way that this current band of smug bastards can do lasting damage to the idea of America. Except I'm not sure I really believe that and I can't keep from getting really, really vitriolic about it.

Dad's been coping by getting fired up about "grassroots" efforts and by kicking off the Dean/Obama 2008 campaign in our living room. I've been coping by engaging in quiet, elaborate fantasies of black hoodies and broken windows and by doing whatever I can to remind myself that the world is a good place full of good people. And it is, down there by the roots of the grass. Down by the roots, people are buying videogames for sick kids. They are buying school supplies for kindergarteners. They are sending pigs and chickens as Christmas presents. And they aren't giving up.

I need to ignore the big picture for a while. Because the big picture sucks hard. I don't even know where to begin with the big picture. The fact that at a time of war (on several fronts) and crapasstic economy, the deciding factor in the election was "moral values"? The fact that "moral values" does not, in fact, refer to wisdom, understanding, good counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord, but means "hating gay people"? The fact that the Democrats keep running candidates that are, at best, Republican-Lite? The fact that the next Chief Justice of the Supreme Court is going to make Scalia look tolerant and Bork look reasonable? It's all so horrible on so many levels, that it fuzzes into a bleak, gray haze.

But down at the grass it's hopeful, and I'm going to spend the next four years so grassroots that sheep will be chewing on my head. I'm going to write letters to Congresspersons, state and national. I'm going to volunteer somewhere, doing something. I'm going to talk to people, and I'm going to listen, and I'm going to try really, really hard not to punch people who voted for W. Getting angry is only helpful if you channel it into positive change and despair is never helpful. I'm going to try to be an instrument of peace, I'm going to try and sow love all over the parts of my soul that are full of hate right now, and I'm gonna light some candles in the darkness.

It's what we are supposed to do, after all.