Lament for Democracy: When the People Choose a King
11-06-24
Like the ancient Israelites before us, we stand at the precipice of our own making. In the shadow of the 2024 election, I am drawn to the haunting parallels of 1 Samuel, where God's people demanded a king – not trusting in divine providence but in the fallible hands of mortal authority.
They chose Saul, a tall, commanding, everything-a-king-should-be-in-human-eyes option. Today, we, too, have chosen appearance over substance, earthly power over divine wisdom. Like Saul, our chosen leader stands before us, promising greatness through the force of personality alone. "I alone can fix it," echoes through our national consciousness, a modern reflection of ancient folly.
Remember Saul, the king who sent a child to face his giants, who turned against his most loyal supporters, and who lost himself in the labyrinth of his own paranoia? How familiar this path now seems. We watch as policies separate families, as walls, both literal and metaphorical, rise between neighbors, and as the vulnerable bear the weight of prosperity promised but never shared.
I weep for our nation, and my lament echoes through the chambers of history:
How long, O Lord, must we endure?
How long must families fear the midnight knock, the sudden separation?
How long will women's bodies be governed by those who never bore life?
How long must Creation groan under the weight of our short-sighted stewardship?
The cells of our prisons overflow with the poor while gilded towers shield the privileged from justice. We have created a system that claims to be free while it binds and speaks of equality while engineering disparity.
In my anguish, I hear the voice of Fannie Lou Hamer crying out, "Let justice roll!" Her words, born from the soil of Mississippi, still thunder through our conscience. I recall Thurgood Marshall's prophetic dissent: "Democracy just cannot flourish amid fear. Liberty cannot bloom amid hate. Justice cannot take root amid rage."
Like the prophets before us, we must name this moment for what it is – a nation choosing its Saul, a people demanding their king, a democracy wavering in its covenant. Marshall's words ring with renewed urgency: "We must dissent from the indifference. We must dissent from the apathy. We must dissent from the fear, the hatred, and the mistrust."
For we have buried our heads in the sand, waiting for the needs of our poor, our elderly, and our sick to disappear like morning mist. We have left our young without jobs, education, or hope. We have chosen a path well-worn by history's cautionary tales.
Yet even in this lament, we remember: God's arc of justice bends long but true. Like Samuel who anointed David after Saul, like Moses who led through the wilderness, like Esther who rose "for such a time as this," we too must rise. We must believe, as Marshall proclaimed, that "America can do better because America has no choice but to do better."
In this dark night of our democracy, we pray not just for deliverance, but for wisdom. Not just for change, but for transformation. Not just for victory, but for redemption.
Lord, hear our lament. Guide us back to your vision of justice, your dream of the beloved community, and your promise of peace.
Amen.
Rev. Dr. Kimberly Gaitor is a senior MDiv candidate at McCormick Theological Seminary and serves as Minister of Christian education at Mayo African Methodist Episcopal Church. Her studies focus on womanist and relational approaches to social witness.