Honoring Our Ancestors, Voting as Ancestors

Voting Ancestors

Rev. Joe Cleveland
November 3, 2024

 

 

Today is the last day of early voting.  The early voting sites that are open right now in Saratoga County will close today at 5:00.  Just out of curiosity, how many of you have voted already? Wow! That’s a lot! 

I’ve put in a bunch of hours as an Elections Inspector—a poll worker for the election.  During the weekdays it was pretty intense.  We’d show up to start up the machines and set up the polling place and there’d already be 40 people there waiting to vote.  People were waiting an hour or hour and a half for lots of the time. It was kind of exhausting.  I was at the polls yesterday, too, but it was much more sane.  People were coming in pretty steadily, but there were times when there was no line at all. I was even able to read and write a little bit.  

Rev. James Reeb was killed by white supremacists in Selma, AL, for support the right of Black people to vote.

I tend to enjoy working the polls.  It seems the county is always needing more poll workers, and participating in and supporting democratic process is a core UU value—It was explicitly written into the UUA’s bylaws in 1985: it said that we affirm and promote “… the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large.”  When Unitarian Universalists adopted a new statement of values for those bylaws last June, democratic process was still part of them:  “We support the use of inclusive democratic processes to make decisions within our congregations, our Association, and society at large.”  Participating in and facilitating the democratic process is about as Unitarian Universalist a thing you can do. There are two Unitarian Universalist martyrs who were killed because of their support for inclusive democratic processes. So it has seemed appropriate and felt significant to me to be an Elections Inspector for our county.  

And, as I said, I tend to find it enjoyable.  And I wonder if part of why I feel that way is because of the different sort of situation that working the polls puts you in.  When you do anything as an inspector, you do it in pairs.  A Democrat and a Republican inspector have to work together.  This is a sort of teaming up that I don’t think many of us do, especially now in these polarized times.  But there we are, people identifying explicitly as Democrats and Republicans working together on a common project.  And we chat and joke together.  We share food and stories with one another.  The Republican coordinator of my polling site tells me about her son who’s in the hospital and been through several operations in an attempt to save the arm he injured in an accident.  He has another surgery coming up, and she asked me to pray for him, and I do. 

I have spent a lot of time exasperated, confused, angry, that some people seem determined to support candidates who dehumanize and demonize people because of where they come from or how they got here or who they love or how they understand their own gender.  I don’t understand how so many seem to support policies that will endanger the lives of lots of my friends and people I care about.  I worry about the human animal that we are so quick to dismiss the possibility that it might be ok that another person’s happiness and thriving looks different than our own.  

Casting a vote can feel like such a small thing in the face of that.  Especially if we think it might be possible that what and who we are casting a vote for might not carry the day.  When I look for wisdom from Unitarian Universalism and other liberal religious traditions, they reassure me that it is not unusual to feel the way I do, and then they whisper: don’t get too focused on the outcome. It’s not like this is a project we can finish.  It certainly won’t be finished this Tuesday. This is a journey we’re on, and the point isn’t to arrive.  We are always going to be on the way.  What we need to attend to is how we are journeying.  Don’t shy away from the feelings, you can hold them.  They are not everything you are.  You are more.  And you are connected to much more.  

Viola Liuzzo was shot to death by Ku Klux Klan members following a voting rights march from Selma to Montgomery in Alabama, 1965.

If we pause for a moment in this moment, what if we listen to our loved ones who have gone before?  Many have died for today, like the UU minister James Reeb and the UU lay person Viola Liuzzo did in 1965 in Selma.  They are telling me to vote.  They are telling me to get involved. And maybe I feel well, I’m no James Reeb. I’m no Viola Liuzzo.  A Buddhist Sister named Sister True Dedication who edits books by Thich Nhat Hanh says this:

Voting is an act of presence, an act of love and showing up. When my inner cynic wonders “Does my vote even count?” I remember the insight of Buddhist masters who affirm that “action in one place is action everywhere.” Every starfish saved is a starfish saved. Casting a vote is to enact a ritual that belongs not only to us as an individual, but to our stream of ancestors and descendants. So much has gone into giving us that vote, and the action of voting is to keep that transmission alive. As the poet Archibald MacLeish once said: “Democracy is never a thing done. It’s always something that a nation must be doing.” Voting is nothing less than an act of love and insight, an investment, and a prayer for democracy to continue long into the future—and that energy radiates into the world, no matter the result.

To vote is to be part of the stream, the river of our ancestors and our descendents.  Our descendents: those for whom we are the ancestors.  Right now, we are part of this stream.  Our energy is part of it.  It’s a stream that can carry us along.  And it’s a flow to which we contribute our energy.  We are part of directing and shaping that flow.  I might be doing something that feels small.  And every starfish saved is a starfish saved. 

The American Psychological Association conducted a poll to see how stressed out we are.  We are pretty stressed out.  We are worried about the possibility of violence this time around.  And the APA says, “Despite the pervasive stress about the nation’s future and the fear of violence, this year’s survey showcased how participants are using the political climate as a springboard for activism and driving positive change.” More are feeling compelled to volunteer to support causes they value. 

A therapist and social worker who is also a Buddhist practitioner gives this advice: “Don’t overthink it. Do what comes next.” Part of what comes next is simply this:  Connect with your people.  Connect with this community, this congregation. We are part of this flow of people, of ancestors and ancestors-to-be, this stream of hope, this river of strength and persistence. 

May we all take a moment regularly in the days to come to simply rest a moment in the love that holds us all. May we all take a moment to connect every day.  May we find the starfish at our feet that we can help.  And may we especially in anxious times find times of joy, playfulness, purpose, and community.  

 

Resources

Sister True Dedication. “Buddhist Advice for Election Anxiety: Coping with Grief.”  Lion’s Roar.  August 23, 2024.  <https://www.lionsroar.com/electing-freedom/> 

American Psychological Association.  “APA poll: Future of nation, economy and presidential election top U.S. stressors.”  October 22, 2024.  <https://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2024/10/top-us-stressors>

Harry Um. “Buddhist Advice for Election Anxiety: Relieving Anxiety.”  Lion’s Roar.  August 23, 2024.  <https://www.lionsroar.com/electing-freedom/>

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