” In these times when anger
Is turned into anxiety
And someone has stolen
The horizons and mountains,
Our small emperors on parade
Never expect our indifference
To disturb their nakedness.
They keep their heads down
And their eyes gleam with reflection.
From aluminum economic ground,
The media wraps everything
In a cellophane of sound,
And the ghost surface of the virtual
Overlays the breathing earth.

The industry of distraction
Makes us forget
That we live in a universe.
We have become converts
To the religion of stress
And its deity of progress;
That we may have courage
To turn aside from it all
And come to kneel down before the poor,
To discover what we must do,
How to turn anxiety
Back into anger,
How to find our way home.” 
~John O’Donohue 

Nearly every conversation over the past several days has unsurprisingly turned to the state of our Minnesota government’s inability to make decisions and work together. Our United Methodist bishop, Sally Dyck, asked all churches over the weekend to pray for, not only our leaders, but all those men, women and children who have been plunged into fear and uncertainty over the loss of jobs and services due to the state shutdown. Yesterday at church the prayers were all accompanied by furrowed brows and looks of complete confusion. The sense of helplessness to affect change is palpable.

This morning a friend pointed out this poem of John O’Donohue. Its words hit me square in the solar plexus. I have to admit that over the last days I have been imagining a moment at which all the people in Minnesota would intuitively decide that “enough is enough”. They would get up from their kitchen tables, their desks(if they are still blessed to be sitting at one), get off the bus, leave the library or the restaurant, open their car doors, and walk directly to the lawn of the State Capitol building. They, we, would stand there in a silent protest for all that is being left undone, for all that begs for creative action, for ways in which the common good is being violated. Perhaps it is the ‘sixties spirit’ of my adolescence that has been fanned, allowing me to once again see how large numbers of regular citizens can and do make a difference.

But as I played out this image in my head I realized what I was really seeing mirrored a painting of John August Swanson entitled ‘Festival of Lights.’  You can view it at his website http://www.johnaugustswanson.com. In this beautiful painting of people seeming to come from the very stars themselves, the figures stream from the mountains carrying a single candle that illuminates their faces. Over hills and valleys they move, appearing to come from the ends of the horizon, forming a wave of face after beautiful face. The faces are not smiling faces but they are strong and committed.  Perhaps they are carrying the anger reflected in the poem as they try to find their way home. It is a powerful image.

Frankly, I can’t imagine how this will all turn out. But I do believe it is going to take some deep listening on everyone’s part. Some deep listening and trying to understand what it means to work for all the people and not just some. It will take some anger that is well placed and an ability to rid oneself of the seduction of the distracted life. Not only for our elected leaders but also for those of us who put them where they are.  And it will take the kind of illumination that is portrayed in this beautiful piece of artwork…single lights coming together to form something greater. All this and the ability to kneel down before the poor and see ourselves.

Finding our way home is going to take all the light we can create…..together.