My first demonstration was in 8th grade, in 1970. Do the math.
At a rally in June 2018 (when this post was originally written) I spoke briefly with someone whose first rallies were in the ‘60s. I spoke to a 17-year-old who came with her mom and her dog. And a lot in between.
We spoke about voter registration. About getting Chris Jones reelected and Sal Romero elected to city council that year, and about giving Jen Lewis a fighting chance in an uphill race for Congress. (She ultimately lost.)
Two themes kept coming up. Haven’t we done this before? Does this do any good?
The answer to the first is an objective fact. Yes, we’ve done it before. Does it do any good? Well, Chris and Deanna (both African-American) are on City Council, and the fight when I was in 8th grade was over whether a black girl could even appear on the SCA ballot, much less get elected.
But the changes happen because of what we do after the rallies. The rallies themselves are our secular political church. You don’t go to church to fight sin. You go to remind yourself why you’re against it.
The first thing you learn in the most common church in our country is Matthew and its principles. You’ll be judged by what you do for the least among us. Count on it. Treat everybody the way you’d want to be treated if you were hungry, thirsty, or naked and cold. Behave the way you’d want people to if you were the stranger or the prisoner.
If you dig deep enough into the theology, you’ll also learn about Sola Fide. Faith alone. Are we saved by our faith alone, or must we have faith accompanied by good works? Put another way, are you doing anything when you leave the rally? Are you knocking doors, registering voters, making phone calls, turning out voters, calling legislators? We may have faith in our democratic institutions, but faith alone won’t stop the nightmare. Go to church, go to the rallies, but don’t think that’s enough.
The ballot is the eucharist.