A Birthday Reminder from John the Baptist

Today is my 70th birthday, a day to look back, look ahead, think, pray, imagine. 

Heavy on my mind is the work of Fair Districts PA. The first formative conversations took place almost exactly ten years ago. I spent much of the Christmas break of 2015 thinking about how to build a Fair Districts PA website, and planning an inaugural gathering for early 2016. I had no idea what I was getting into, no idea where it would lead.

The work has grown from a few endorsing organizations and a handful of volunteers to a large grassroots movement, with an email list that just hit 70,000, an extensive, professionally designed website, a smaller website for a secondary project (Fix Harrisburg), large social media reach on multiple platforms and many passionate, gifted leaders, all volunteers, in counties across the state. 

Despite success in helping achieve better district maps for PA for this decade, we've had no success in seeing bills enacted. As the national redistricting battle escalates, with voters used as pawns in an increasingly toxic partisan drama, we find ourselves wondering: is reform possible in Pennsylvania? Is reform possible NOW? Is there any avenue forward?

Perhaps a larger question: in a time of national upheaval, what can one individual do? I grieve the bombing of modest fishing boats off the coast of Venezuela. I lament the masked ICE agents, and unidentified bounty hunters, grabbing people from schools, churches, courthouses, places of work, private homes.

What can I do?

What can I do when a majority of Supreme Court justices endorse misuse of executive privilege, shrug at miscarriages of justice, enjoy extravagant hospitality in obvious conflicts of interest?

What can I do as people I love lose the modest safety nets that keep their families afloat: SNAP benefits for single moms, heating assistance for poor families in drafty houses, medical help for workers who never quite qualify for normal benefits. 

I know some of my friends and family are still celebrating our current president. I listen carefully, prayerfully, grieving the cruelty, asking "What can I do?"

John the Baptist in the Wilderness;
Geertgen Sint Jans; Netherlands; c1480

My birthday always falls somewhere between various Advent readings about John
the Baptist. I have always found his courage and clarity daunting. He called the religious leaders of his day a "brood of vipers," and warned them of consequences to come: "The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire." 

The crowds following John asked "What should we do?" 

He didn't hesitate in his instructions: “Anyone who has two shirts should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.” 

To the tax collectors he said “Don’t collect any more than you are required to.” 

To the soldiers: “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely—be content with your pay.”

John was fearless in his confrontation of the rich and powerful, so much so that he found himself in prison. Just as I'm challenged by his explicit answers to the questions of "What should we do?" I'm encouraged by his own questions from prison. He asked two of his closest friends to find Jesus and ask him: "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?" 

The answer: "Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor."

I think the question, "What should we do?" is one we all carry with us, never more so than in times of challenge and uncertainty. John's answers still hold: share with those who have less. Don't take more than you need. Produce good fruit. Repent. 

Those aren't the final answers, but good places to start. 

I think we also carry the same deeper questions: is God on the side of the the powerful, the wealthy? Is justice an illusion? Are we foolish to imagine God cares for the poor? Are we foolish to think our own actions make a difference? Can we still trust when things go badly?

Sitting by my decorated tree, listening to Christmas music playing softly in the background, sipping my Lady Grey tea and watching the squirrels play in the bare trees in my backyard, I find myself humbled, warmed, and thankful for the life of John the Baptist and his younger cousin, Jesus. 

I'm thankful for the reminder that we are all called to ask "what should I do?" 

We're all invited into places of challenge, given courage as we need it, welcomed to express our doubts and ask hard questions.

I have no idea what the year ahead will bring. No certainty that my work for a redistricting reform will be successful. No easy answers about the future of our country. 

But I do know that while petty kings and kingdoms come and go, I'm called, as we all are, to live as agents of a kingdom not yet visible, and to act in ways that bring good news to the poor.

Saint John the Baptist Preaching in the Wilderness,

Pieter Brueghel the Younger, Netherlands, ca 1601