Sermon given at St. Augustine’s Episcopal, Washington, D.C., January 24, 2021. Lectionary readings: Jonah 3.1-5, 10; 1 Corinthians 7.29-31; Mark 1.14-20.

This has been a year turned inside out, a world turned upside-down. An Easter that felt like Lent, following a Lent that felt like forever; months of Ordinary Time that were anything but ordinary; an Advent spent wondering, in the words of C.S. Lewis, if it would be always winter and never Christmas, an Epiphany that revealed not how loved the world is but how angry.

We have lost and grieved and feared and huddled in our safe spaces, if we have safe spaces. We have lost singing and shared meals, family and friendships, time and homes and jobs and health to pandemics of virus and racism and politics – now we know what plague is like, what an uncivil war is like. 

I voted.

I voted for people with pre-existings, I voted for the rights of women, for the protection of freedom of the press, for faith that loves all and respects the dignity of every human being.

I voted for compassion and empathy. I voted for refugees and immigrants, especially those locked up in detention centers and those separated from children and parents.