“I hope you kept a journal.”
“Are you going to move to New York and go back into politics now?”
“Did your brother win?”
No. No. And no.
As many of you know, this summer I spent ten weeks in New York working on my brother’s primary campaign to be the Democratic candidate for governor. Despite my good intentions, I did not keep a journal. But I learned a thing or two along the trail, as on most journeys. This morning I offer for your consideration: What I Did on My Summer Vacation: Lessons from the Campaign Trail.
There are things we say to demonstrate grace under fire. They can seem platitudinous or clichéd. But I have come to see the truth in the wisdom imparted by parents and coaches to young athletes: It’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game.
Winning is fun. I know; I have worked on winning campaigns. But I have worked on more losing efforts. Each campaign—like anything you put your heart and soul into—was worthwhile, even when we lost. Why? Because in the end, campaigns are about touching people’s live, not just about winning. They are about wrestling with substantive issues and finding solutions to complex problems. They can be about relieving suffering and restoring hope.
Working on a campaign for a candidate we believed in made us feel like we were part of something larger than ourselves—something important. And feeling like you are part of something important is ennobling and strengthening.
A colleague wrote to encourage me mid-summer, passing on words from his mentor. He wrote: most causes you will devote yourself to that are truly worthwhile will probably feel like “lost causes.” But when we undertake an endeavor with good intention and a good heart, that self-giving effort, however tangential to the direction of history as a whole, is never truly “lost”. It makes a contribution.
In his letters to the newly forming Christian communities of the first century, Paul often wrote advice about proper conduct: (1Cor. 9:24) “Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such as way as you may win it.” But he adds in other letters this reminder: do it with joy.
Think about undertaking a campaign—that is, any important endeavor in your life--the way you would play a sport: employing discipline and fair play, team work and excellence, commitment, loyalty, and a little style. There are extra points for good humor. And singing. It matters how you play the game. Running a race is hard. Winning is fun. But it is important to see that, often, the prize is in the running. So rejoice! Your race is on!
Lesson Two: You have to trust someone.
When my brother first ran for public office 12 years ago, he sent out a survey asking why people don’t trust politicians. It was multiple choice: Because they are a. greedy; b. ambitious; or c. untruthful. People checked: All of the above.
Tom believes that politics is a worthy, even noble, calling. He regularly explained the root of the word politics. “Poly” is from the Greek, meaning many, and “tics” are blood sucking insects! But seriously folks…
Who can you trust? This is a question we have to ask, certainly, when choosing an elected representative, a chief executive or judge.
Candidates have to ask themselves the same questions—as do we all: Who can you count on in your life to tell you the truth? The kind of truth that is not designed to hurt you, but to help you see yourself more clearly, more honestly, and ultimately more compassionately?
Who can you trust?
Do we trust ourselves? That is, have we learned how to listen to that still, small voice within that is like a light shining in the darkness, like a knife that can cut through mud? Have we cultivated a practice of sitting still – of settling our anxious hearts and quieting our chattering minds enough to hear the whisper of that inner guide—the voice you can trust?
If you have trouble sitting still on your own, seek out someone who can sit still with you. Someone who can listen to you and help you hear yourself more clearly. Or join a group that makes a practice of sitting still together. Like the Zen group that meets here on Tuesday nights.
Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote: “Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising which tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires courage.”
It is hard to be courageous, it is hard to keep going in the face of criticism or bad polls, it can be hard to make good choices. And while we like to think we’ll do the right thing in the moment we are called to act, wisdom traditions teach us we have to practice on the little things, and on a regular basis. Then, when it comes time to make the big choices, to be truly courageous, to just keep going in the face of despair or hardship—we will be prepared.
Know who you can trust. Know yourself enough to know you are worthy of your trust.
One of the key ways to develop a reputation for being trustworthy is to
Do what you said you were going to do. (Lesson Three)
My brother quoted an Italian proverb almost daily on the campaign: Guarda le mani, non ascoltare la bocca. Watch the hands, don’t listen to the mouth. Actions speak louder than words.
In St. Paul’s cathedral in London, there is a plaque dedicated to its architect, Sir Christopher Wren which reads: Si monumentum requires, circumspice. If you seek a memorial, look around you. Look around to your friends, your colleagues, your family, your garden, your kitchen, your patients, your clients, your stuff, your calendar. Your memorial is the life you lead and the work you do.
When we do the things we say we are going to do, we become count-on-able. This doesn’t require you to say “yes” to every request that is made of you. In fact, it’s a corrective for it! Too often we feel pressured into saying “yes” and over-commit ourselves. We take on responsibilities that throw our lives out of balance. Then, what happens? We fret and complain, procrastinate and feel bad, and then find an excuse to explain why it never got done. Not you, of course, but someone you know, does that…
Now, this isn’t to say that you ought to reject the opportunity to take something on because it seems scary, or you’re not sure you can do it because you’ve never done it before. Emerson celebrated the advice given to a young person: “Always do the thing you are afraid to do.” Bobby Kennedy had those words underlined in his personal diary…
Unitarian Universalism is characterized by deeds, not creeds. Guarda le mani: Watch the hands. By their fruits you shall know them.
It’s not all up to you. Not all by yourself, anyway.
Last week, Stephen Kendrick talked about the captain and crew of the ship Endurance. One moral of the story was that we do not survive alone. It is rare that we build or explore or complete something all by ourselves. More often
It takes teamwork to make the dream work.
People come together in voluntary associations because they share a vision and embark on a mission to accomplish that vision. Think of the groups that you belong to. To some groups, you send money. You believe in what the group is doing and wish them well, and put your money to work towards that vision.
And then there are some groups you join. You commit your time, your energy, and your gifts because you want to be part of influencing history with your life.
You may not have thought of it that way before, but that is what you are doing when you are part—a participant—in a group: You are influencing history.
Voluntary associations, such as the Democratic or Republican party, the Rotary Club or neighborhood association or this congregation—are essential to democracy and freedom. Unitarian theologian James Luther Adams wrote passionately about the need for voluntary associations and their power to protect against totalitarianism. He wrote that voluntary associations offer settings where “the give and take of discussion may be brought under criticism and subjected to change. …[They are] a means for the institutionalizing of gradual revolution” (1962).
On the campaign, I saw afresh the importance of religious communities – voluntary associations of people who covenant to be together for the purpose of achieving authentic identity in relation to one another, to the Divine, and to history. We are bound together to gain insight into our selves and our relationships, to make meaning of our lives, and to influence life and history through social responsibility. (And you thought you were here just for the music…)
Listen to what noted activist minister Jack Mendlesohn wrote in his classic work, Being Liberal in an Illiberal Age: “I believe that until we roll up our sleeves and join hands as a community of faith, we cannot fully experience the redemptive power of our convictions or our witness. A community of faith that does not try to mold history is not only undependable but, in the end, impotent.” He wrote that in 1964. I think it speaks to us today…
This does not mean that there is an expectation that everyone in the sound of my voice has to become a full-time activist—or has to join the witness for peace on the Common today at 1:00, or to take a leadership position on a committee at church.
Mendelsohn’s charge is an invitation to consider deeply what you are called to do. To open your eyes, to look around and see who is there—and who is missing from the table. To make a choice, to understand your place in the interdependent web, and to exercise the power of your unique gifts.
In a voluntary association—on this team—there is room for you and your gifts.
My brother’s was a very grassroots campaign. You need a lot lot lot of money to run for statewide office…So if you don’t have the 20 million dollars you need, you start dreaming up less expensive ways to reach voters.
Tom asked his supporters to become owls. Why owls? What does an owl say? WHO? WHOO will elect Tom Suozzi? You You Youuuu! So he invited people to sign up to be owls and commit to asking 25 people to vote for him.
Richie was a guy who seemed to show up all our local events. He may have been 30, but Richie had intellectual and social skills of a 10 year-old. A little shy, but always happy to be noticed, he asked if he could be an owl. “I don’t think I know 25 people, but I’ll call the people I do know,” he volunteered.
The following week he came into headquarters and handed me a list of 10 names written down in a large, crooked print. His excitement was unrestrained. “I’m an owl! I’m going to help Tom win!” he crowed.
Richie was a part of the team. He did his part. And he could express his power to influence history because there was room on our team for everyone’s gifts.
It takes teamwork to make the dream work. There are teams you can join to help make your dreams—and our collective dreams--realities. Including here at First Church. If there is something about our team and our work that interests you, and you want to find out how to become a member, please talk to me or Stephen, or another member of our team. You are welcome. On our team, no one is perfect, but everyone has something to offer. We are ready to receive your gifts! Or to help you discover what they are.
The final lesson from the campaign: The only real prayer is thank you.
Non ci sono rose senza spine. There are no roses without thorns. It’s another Italian proverb.
In the course of the 10 weeks I was on the campaign, seven staff members, plus the candidate, experienced the death of someone close to them.
There were arguments and feelings were hurt.
People got sick and some lost their jobs.
One person’s living space was destroyed by fire.
Relationships broke up.
And, oh yes, we lost.
But along the way we made new friends, we laughed and sang, we touched lives in ways we won’t ever know, and we made a difference.
My brother entered politics because he believed it was the best path by which he could be of service to the poor. He wanted to be governor because he believed he had solutions that would reduce suffering, save lives and restore hope.
Because he believed these things, and believed he had the talent and the experience to do the job well, he felt he had a responsibility to step up. He got up early and stayed up late. Day after day, despite the polls. He risked everything—his health, his reputation. He never gave up hope. And in the end, though he lost, the thing he most wanted to say was “Thank You.”
Tom and I share this bit of theology: we think that praying to God for things is for amateurs: “God, if I do this, will you do that?”
Instead, we believe that one of the keys to life is gratitude for life, for it’s obvious and hidden blessings. Tom is grateful for the opportunity to live his dream.
What are our dreams? What makes us run? What calls us to make sacrifices willingly? To what could we possibly give our selves so completely that, even if we fail by most standards, would still move us to say, “Thank you for the opportunity, the privilege to try?”
These are the big questions for our lives. Discovering the answers will form the narrative that will guide and support us as we live each day. By their fruits and their groups you shall know them. Open your eyes. Look around. Know what and who is worthy of your trust. Make a choice. Join a team. Do what you say you are going to do. And know that it’s all a privilege just to be here, now. So we say Thank You. And Amen.
BENEDICTION
Run your race in such a way as you may win it.
Be courageous. Be strong. Choose hope.
And let all that you do be done in love.
With deep gratitude in our hearts, let us go now in peace.
AMEN.
