It’s a story about hope

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We awake this morning to a different country.

The struggle for equal rights is far from over,

but we start afresh now from a whole new baseline.

–Thomas L. Friedman, NY Times op-ed columnist

To read the editorials the morning after Barack Hussein Obama’s ascension to the highest elected post in the land, you’d think it was all about race. But in reality, it’s the story of our colorblindness. It’s a story of the deep-seated hope in each one of us that a common man, born into less than ideal family circumstances, can identify personal strengths and grow in confidence to share those talents to benefit the common good.

It’s a message we couch in Americanism. It’s the American Dream played out, beginning to end, to be sure. President-elect Obama’s election also signals the end to a civil war that began at Bull Run, Virginia, on July 21, 1861. It came to a dignified conclusion on Tuesday when the commonwealth of Virginia voted Democratic, assuring that a man we met at the Democratic National Convention 4 years ago would this week become the 44th president of our United States.

Some say it’s the meteoric rise of a man in the right place at the right time. A man who assembled a magical election team. A man who offers different solutions to problems that plague Americans of all economic levels and causes economic markets worldwide to quiver.

But this election also gives each one of us, men and women, light and dark, young and old, American and international, permission to dream in earnest once again.

Regardless of your political affiliation or final vote, it matters that we consider this moment in history and its affect on our own lives. It matters that we rethink our attitudes toward the future by acknowledging the lessons of the past. It matters that we take a look once again at what God has to say to each one of us about our own significance, our places in the world, our passions and our missions while we are able to make contributions.

Watching the Obama family walk out onto the world stage at Grant Park in Chicago, before a crowd estimated at 150,000 and millions worldwide, was moving. Certainly worthy of our notice. That evening I moved my TV viewing to the privacy of my bedroom for one reason only: I wanted to react in freedom. As I awaited his appearance I thought back to the time in 1993 when I stood at the base of the Lincoln Memorial to read words so beautifully penned I was moved to tears as I kept a stroller moving to quiet a fussy 18-month-old son.

I also recalled reading, during my college days studying American political science, comments written by journalist Noah Brooks who witnessed Lincoln’s second inaugural speech. He reported Lincoln’s audience was so moved by the moment he saw “moist eyes and even tearful faces.”

I saw those same faces Tuesday night in Grant Park. In front of the Ebeneser Baptist Church. In Time Square. Alone to respond as I might, I cried as well.

Mine are happy tears. Tears empowered by hope. By relief that we are beginning to see people beyond their skin color. Beginning to see people as God sees us: We’re worthy! We’re Capable! We’re able to contribute in positive ways to our world. Able to give voice to our ideas and our hopes for a better life for everyone. Able to grow from Life’s lessons and become better people in preparation for a life beyond this one.

So what is it that people of faith should be saying and doing in this new era? I believe we should be reminding those with whom we live and work and worship that each of us is meant to be here. God created us. He is personal to each one of us. He gifts us with talents and walks with us. He speaks encouragement and hope, vision and correction, using the people and events of our lives.

I also believe we have a privilege and responsibility to pray. Pray for our leaders’ safety. Pray for wisdom. Pray that we will experience blessing and growth each time we unite our hearts. That we’ll be healthier and more hopeful. More encouraging and strong. More sensible and less reactive. More generous and less critical.

That we start afresh from a whole new baseline that invites God to be an active player.