10 Missionary Reflections On the 2016 American Election

The outcome of the United States of America 2016 election  was far from what I wished for but not far from what I expected.   Both of the leading parties gave the voters options which I considered evil.   I do some long drives across the American plains, and those long quiet moments give me time to pray, reflect, and prepare for what missionary options may come.    America has been blessed by abundant natural resources, good infra-structure,and a resilient people.   Those blessings should be nurtured.  


Missionaries for thousands of years have sought to be good citizens while living in nation-states governed by less than ideal leaders.   We must do that in America during this season of history.   I'm thankful that in this posting of mine I was able to vote.  Yet, even in locations where I can't vote I must seek to live in community.   Here's my best attempt to make sense of the 2016 election:

1. November 9 was a planned and expected day of grief for me. I voted in clean conscience. If one analyses my ballot it could look nuts. At one point I went 3rd party. I crossed a partisan line. I abstained. I was pro-life and pro-immigrant. I was better read on voting than I've ever been in my life. Some I voted for won. Some lost. I am at peace with me, but troubled at the lack of shared virtue in the current American experience. From grief comes resolve. America is a great nation. We are called here as missionaries. We will remain until God calls us to a new posting.

Our family homeless days in 2013

2. I empathize with Trump voters. I'm an old white poor male. I see almost no hope in any system for my family to come out of poverty. When I count my hours of daily labor they are usually 9 to 14 long. The elites in my profession have screwed me. They are arrogant and manipulative. My ideas, people, and work ethics are better than theirs. I'm frustrated too.

3. Keep laughing.   When I watched the election results Tuesday evening into Wednesday morning with my son we laughed frequently. I saw tears from some, but the systems crying I consider evil. Taking of life no matter what stage of biological development is abhorrent to me. I also laughed at how disconnected the elites are from the ordinary people. The science of polls missed this one big time.

4. America hates corruption, conflicts of interest, and lies. We'll tolerate a lot but profiteering from public service is repulsive.

5. Those with whom I disagree are my neighbors and decent people.   On my run Wednesday morning I wondered what would happen to all the election signs. I didn't want trash in my neighborhood. A Republican volunteer was picking up the signs. I stopped and helped him. I'm sure I voted a little different than he, but he's my neighbor and a decent man.   

6. Being a good neighbor means life sometimes stinks.   There's been a dead skunk in the middle of
the street a block from my house for a couple days. I couldn't stomach its smell nor driving by anymore. I buried the skunk. I'm going out of my way to be a good neighbor.

7. Wining  and losing with grace matters.   My favorite Trump supporter called me Wednesday morning and didn't gloat. I'm thankful I've followed him my whole life. He's at peace and I trust his judgement. He voted his conscience. He couldn't vote for a party that takes the life of the unborn. He's got adopted kids and grandchildren.   He made a tough choice believing in his family's values. He's fed up with elites who don't listen and told me stories that are local. He's worked for men like Trump before and its paid the bills. He knows people working long hours who can't pay all their bills. Maybe, he sees something I don't? 

8. With the House, Senate, and Presidency controlled by those in theory who are pro-life maybe 2 Supreme Court justices who are pro-life will be added. Roe vs. Wade is a tremendous evil. Maybe, we will see that evil changed in this season of history?

9. The American Evangelical Church has been discredited by this election.    I believe the Church is full of syncretism and nominalism.   The critics are right. This election has tainted the church in both unbelievers eyes and in young Christians appraisal of the older generation's integrity.   I kept thinking I was watching Saturday Night Live skits as evangelicals made political endorsements.   It may take generations to undo the damage to the Church by many evangelicals in this election cycle.  There are still deep systematic evils of race, prejudice, and poverty in the American Church. They seem to be getting worse. Maybe, now is not the season for them to be resolved by legal policies? Maybe now is the season for the church to lead in resolving these deep generational sins.     Now is the season for the church to go far beyond the call of duty. 
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10. Some of my closest friends are immigrants, people of color, and young. Honestly, some are quite freaked out. Yet, the wisest Ugandan woman in America I know told me today she would not be afraid. I trust her and will follow her leadership. Will you too?

DISTANT MEMORIAL DAY MEMORIES – PAINFUL BUT ESSENTIAL LIFE RHYTHMS

Photo by Ruth Jenkins

I woke in deep emotional pain on Saturday, May 23 2015 at about 2 a.m.   Thankfully, my wife Jana woke with me and graciously calmed my spirit.   A few hours later I was sleeping again.   I slept in a bit and woke assuming whatever was causing the emotion would be gone.   Instead it remained.   I thumbed through my Bible and skimmed newspapers trying to find either comfort or a distraction.   The pain remained.    I decided to go on a long bike ride.    Maybe, exercise would provide relief?   The sun lifted my spirts, but something deeper still hurt.   I took a nap hoping that the pain was just exhaustion from three moves in less than three years.

                We had dinner that evening with good friends, Otieno and Kim Ochieng.   We planned my daughter, Sophia’s upcoming gusaba / kwanjula (Traditional African Wedding.)    Their joy, wisdom, and shared service lifted my spirits, but as I drifted off to sleep the pain remained.   Maybe, I was still missing Africa?

                I woke Sunday with the pain still in my spirit.   I knew it was Memorial Day weekend.  We planned to have friends over on Monday.    I planned to cook muchomo (grilled meat.)   Maybe, the pain was missing the churches we had planted and pastored?   Sundays can be painful.

                Then I remembered the life rhythms of my American childhood.    We used to go to our family cemetery in Elmore, Minnesota on Memorial Day.   We always stopped at the grave of my great uncle, Sanford Cornelius Eichhorn.   I remember being there with my grandmother, Minnie Sophia Eichhorn Jenkins.   She was such a treasure to me that I named my first born daughter, Sophia after her.    Grandma Jenkins was full of wisdom and hope.   Yet, her pain remained on Memorial Day.    Her brother, Sanford died as a soldier on the battle fields of France in World War One.  

                I googled my great uncle, Sanford Cornelius Eichhorn.  The date of his death was May 23, 1918.   Ninety seven years ago he paid the ultimate cost for our freedom.   Childhood memories and rhythms were catching up with me.    Life for all must go on.    Yet going on is more than grilling meat with friends and watching baseball games.    When life goes on we establish rhythms.   Those rhythms make places for memories of grief.    That grief brings our resolve.    Some matters though painful we must never forget.

                After so many years in Africa re-developing my American rhythms is tricky.   Many have forgotten the rhythms and ideals of my American childhood.    This one I will not forget.    Memorial Day is to remember those who gave their lives for freedom.   They had names.   They had parents and siblings.   They had stories.   They had great promise.   

                Somewhere in my unpacked files are the diaries of my grandmother Minnie Sophia Jenkins.   In them are the stories of her childhood with her brother, Sanford.    I can’t find a picture of her nor of my great uncle Sanford either online, on my computer, or in my family photo albums.  The next time I am with my parents or aunts and uncles I will find those pictures.   My great uncle Sanford was the first born child of Cornelius and Lola Belle Rowe Eichhorn.  I have few memories of my great grandmother, Lola Belle Rowe who passed from this life to another in June, 1971.  I remember her joy.   I also remember her grief when the name of her son Sanford was mentioned.  He was born on June 3, 1897 in Elmore, Minnesota.    His next born sibling was my grandmother.    He grew up on a farm on the Iowa border.   All the memories I heard of him were good.   He and my grandmother were especially close.   Life did go on after his death.     Yet, his memory was never lost.   

Today I will remember a man I never met, but whose death profoundly affected my great grandmother and my grandmother.    His death like many others gave not only the United States but other nations their freedom.    These painful distant memories must remain part of our life rhythms.   I hope to wake in pain on May 23 each remaining year of my life.