Estranged from Our “Families”

Many of us awoke on Wednesday morning, November 6, from a fitful night of sleep feeling something we perhaps hadn’t felt before—estrangement. After hearing the results of the election, it became apparent that an incompatibility existed between us and more than half of our fellow citizens who voted for someone we considered to be unquestionably unfit for office. We sat in a daze of horror. The news enveloped us like a cold chill, a foreboding cloud. “So this is who we are?”

The estrangement cuts through lots of “families,” lots of circles. Some people feel estranged from their faith community, no longer comfortable sitting in a pew with folks whose political beliefs seem antithetical to their own. Some feel estranged from neighbors, informed by their yard signs, indicating whether they are “friend or foe.” Some feel the strain on long-time friendships, suddenly walking on eggshells, no longer feeling like they can be themselves. And, of course, some feel estranged even from their original family. I’m thinking of a friend who posted, “Huh?! I just got uninvited to Thanksgiving!” all because of who she voted for.  

To be honest, right now, the impasse seems irresolvable. Yet I know deep in my soul that it is the work I must do and will attend to in good time. So, as I sit with where I am right now and ponder how I might prepare for and begin the important work that is mine to do, here are some thoughts, garnered through prayer and reflection, that have become relevant to me.

1. It’s okay to take time to grieve!

Just a few hours after the election was called, someone sent me a private message reassuring me that it really didn’t matter who won the election because, after all,  “Jesus is Lord!” Needless to say, his crass insensitivity and spiritual platitudes made my heart sick! For the next several days, I saw similar expressions sprinkled all over social media. As I simmered in my anger and despondency, some words from Scripture began to circle my mind. I couldn’t recall their origin or setting until I looked them up. “They treat the wound of my people as if it were nothing: ‘All is well, all is well,’ they insist, when in fact nothing is well” (Jeremiah 6:14). For many of us, nothing is well. We’ve taken this hard. Certainly, not everyone has, but I have, and maybe you have, too. So it’s necessary for us to take time to grieve this blow. We don’t have to explain or justify ourselves to anyone! The way of wisdom says, “Listen and attend to the needs of your own soul. It knows the way forward.” That makes sense to me.

2. Social media is not the place to do relational work!

I’ve also come to a settled conclusion that social media is not the place to do the relational work of healing estrangement! Currently, my concern and why I write (even this blog) is to commiserate with and encourage those who feel utterly dismayed and don’t know how to move forward. I’ve heard from many, many of you who are there, who have expressed thanks because you feel so very alone in your own “families.” If that is you, I’m with you. Let’s walk this road together. If that isn’t you, that’s okay, just please respect those of us in a different place. Please don’t try to engage with us by arguing your point. Social media is not well-suited for conflictual conversations about complex issues! It only turns what could be meaningful for some into an ugly brawl. I’m becoming very comfortable these days with deleting comments of that nature. Relational work must be done face-to-face with people who have skin in the game and want to do the work!

3. I don’t have to be like my “family” to be in relationship with them.

David and I just watched a PBS documentary by Ric Burns called “The Chinese Exclusion Act” of 1882. We were stunned! “How can it be that we never heard about this?” a sixty-year law enacted by Congress that animated violent atrocities against Chinese immigrants? Watching the documentary delivered a stinging reminder that we white Europeans have always had a chip on our shoulders and always perceived ourselves as superior to other races. We have a long, sad history of regarding others who look different, speak differently, act differently, or have different colored skin as a threat. The work before us is not natural to us, even if we’ve learned from experience what author Donald Miller observed: “It’s hard to hate someone whose story you know.” We are at another crossroads and have the chance to show respect and curiosity toward those who aren’t “like” us. May this be the day of our reckoning! 

4. If I can’t talk about what really matters to me or listen to what really matters to you, then we will have a superficial relationship.

Many of us are living in the middle of this political and religious estrangement, wondering what “families” we will still belong to when it’s all said and done. Here’s the reality: when we find our way to the other side of this difficult time, we may still have relationships with some “family” members, but they may be superficial ones. That’s because the only way forward for many is to say, “Let’s not talk about this.” And while that can be a safe and reasonable agreement, it may also lead to shallow relationships. This moment in history brings up concerns for us that are big. The issues we are contending with reflect fundamental ways in which we see our world and, for Christians, what it means to follow Jesus. If we can’t talk about what matters to each of us, declaring a cease-fire may be the most civil way to conduct ourselves, but the cost will be authentic intimacy and a deep knowing of one another. I realize that for some relationships, that’s the best we can do, and it’s probably okay. But for others, it will be tragic.

Thanks for reading my own prayerful reflections. I’m dedicated to walking with those of you who are also grieving as we support one another and gain our bearings.

Warmly, Beth Booram