Morning-After Kissing

First of all, thank you to all who offered themselves up as candidates to the rigorous eternity of tire-kicking that is the campaign season. You’ve done something quite heroic. Go back to whatever you did before this began with a merit badge of civic blessing.

Secondly, congratulations to those who prevailed. Take this brief moment to enjoy a deep breath. That’s about all the respite you will get. It’s time to set yourself to the task — and it won’t be easy. The process, itself, sees to that.

There is a country song that ruefully acknowledges, “It’s hard to kiss the lips at night that chew your ass out all day long” (The Notorious Cherry Bombs).

It’s a clever turn of phrase which, when it is on track, is country music’s stock and trade.  Earthy, I'll admit, but clever.  It makes me smile.  But it’s a wry smile.  Most of us know how difficult it is to walk back out of hurtful words we’ve spoken into a more promising and productive space.

I think of that challenge on a day like today — the day after a bitter political season ground to a close; the day after the clock counting down the hours of a very long “day” of ass-chewing finally ran down.  It won’t be easy in the coming days and months for these elected officials to practice statecraft with these lips that have spent this season in character assassination and moral diminishment.   We are increasingly brutal in our politicking— increasingly personal, and dishonest in our representations.  Suddenly, then, with the votes counted and the machines stored away until next time, fierce opponents are supposed to cohere into a productive and representative governing body.  It’s going to take more than puckering, but if we are going to be a functioning country that’s the work ahead.  

And it’s not just the politicians, of course, who have this difficult relational work to do.  Given our collective comportment over the past year and more, there is a good chance there will be a few lips gathered around our holiday tables in the month we aren’t looking forward to kissing.    The carving knives aren’t the only sharp objects laying around, and we will have some relational healing and accommodating to do.  But if we are to be a functioning family and community that’s the work ahead.  

So how will we manage it?  I remember reading about the awkward difficulty American clergy experienced in the wake of World Wars preaching healing and reconciliation after so lustily preaching against the enemy throughout the war.  It’s easier — and usually more fun — to froth up our righteous indignation and demonization than to work up a sweat in service to healing and common cause.  Which ought to give us pause.  Like it or not, we are going to have to kiss these lips.

I’m not suggesting we merely throw another log on the campfire, hold hands and sing “Kum Ba Ya” — although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t humming it right now.  Life together in this public space is more complicated than that, and infinitely more difficult.  I’m simply saying we had better find other ways to debate the very serious matters confronting us — global warming and the degradation of the environment, racism, anti-semitism, sexism, homophobia, xenophobia and the genuine challenge of existing as but one member of a diverse and messy global community, and our various and seemingly multiplying ways of abusing each other — than with our teeth.  

And listen afresh to what our various religions teach us about the value of human life, the care of our neighbor, and the imperative to love.

Because there isn’t finally anywhere for us to go but into each other’s arms.  

And may God help us to finally comprehend this fundamentally basic truth:

That it is hard to kiss the lips at night that chew your ass out all day long.

Voting With a Different Rubric

I haven’t yet voted. I am happily among the dinosaurs of this citizenry who still enjoy stepping into the voting booth on Election Day and penciling in my choices. As this impending opportunity approaches, I have been thinking about my rubric — how I decide for whom to cast my vote.  In elections past I have carefully reviewed the candidate responses to media questionnaires, noted scores on issue-based report cards, watched televised debates and read with interest the newspaper’s endorsements.  In elections past, positions reigned supreme. But I’ve grown weary of the mud wrestling.  And I’ve become increasingly disgusted by the moral fibers out of which those “representing” me are woven.  So, I’m changing the way I prepare to cast my vote.

While my interest in the positions a candidate espouses on the myriad of issues remains a priority for me, that consideration this time around has been demoted a notch.  After all, it is precisely this kind of blindered voting that has gotten us into the odious mess we are in. 

So it is that I have moved into the place where if “who you are speaks so loudly that I can’t hear what you are saying,” the odds are good that you don’t get my vote.  This time around, then, I will impose a prior screen that has lamentably fallen into collective neglect.  In this election, and those that foreseeably follow, I will only consider those who: 

• to the best of my ability to determine it, keep their zipper up/skirt down, and their hands to themselves; 

• honor their spousal vows if they’ve entered them, and professional integrities, believing that if someone doesn’t keep faith with those closest to them I can’t expect them to do so with me;

• respect the validity of facts, even when they are inconvenient;

• have more than a passing acquaintance with the values of circumspection and humility; 

• demonstrate, beyond the campaign trail, a reverence for the sacred value of humankind and the world in which we live;

• pause to think and consider rather than jumping to immediate action; 

• can meet an opponent’s position with equanimity rather than ridicule;

• come from particular places and tribes but exercise the capacity to see beyond the parochial, not simply for the good of the moment but the good beyond their time. 

Only then, from among those who remain viable after such a vetting, will I consider their politics variously espoused.  

I know there are those who consider this to be an impossibly high bar for a candidate to clear — an assessment I find to be embarrassingly sad. To the contrary, I view it to be such a pathetically low standard so base that it’s hard to imagine how we could have possibly abandoned it.  Surely this is simply the least of what we should expect of each other.  

And tomorrow, in the voting booth, I will.  The days and years after, as well. 

Because another election is never far away.