Rejoicing With Those Who Rejoice: A Post-Election Reflection

Sam Hamstra | Nov 25, 2008

“Rejoice with those who rejoice,” wrote the apostle Paul (Romans 12:15). It sounds simple enough, but it not always as easy as it sounds. Sure, if we share a common experience it’s pretty easy. A mother, for example, may easily rejoice with a first-time mother by drawing on the memories of her joy when she gave birth to her first child.

 

And we can even rejoice with those with whom we share a vaguely similar experience. I have never been on the roster of a Major League Baseball World Series Champion, for example, but I have played baseball in a couple world series. So, I can imagine how excited I would have been if my college team won the World Series and, drawing on that memory, rejoice with those who celebrate team championships.

 

So, it seems that, in order to genuinely rejoice with those who rejoice, we may draw on the memory of a common experience. More specifically, we may draw on the memory of the joy that accompanied that common experience. But how do we rejoice with someone with whom we do not share a common experience?

 

Post-Election Reflection

 

Like many people across the world, I watched, with the help of my television, over 125,000 celebrate the election of Senator Barack Obama as this nation’s first African-American president. 

Unable to resist my tendency to analyze, I noticed in the massive crowd, at least, three different types of celebrants. Clearly, one group celebrated the election of their candidate. They voted for Senator Obama and he won. Any person who has ever voted for a political candidate can understand that joy and easily “rejoice with those who rejoice.” 

Another group, which consisted primarily of people younger than me, from a variety of tribes and nations, seemed to rejoice over making history. They supported the election of this nation’s first African-American president and rejoiced in playing their small part in making it happen. And many of us who helped shape history in some small way can relate to that kind of joy and “rejoice with those who rejoice.”

But I was most inspired by a third group, some of whom I witnessed, not at the gathering in Chicago, but on television. This group, which consisted of mostly middle-aged and older African-Americans, celebrated with unparalleled intensity, even tears. And here’s why, the best I can understand it:

Many historians mark the beginning of the Civil Rights movement in America with the 1954 Supreme Court ruling that segregation in public schools is unconstitutional. Those same historians believe that Martin Luther King, Jr. provided indispensable leadership to the movement in the 1960's. One example of his excellent leadership has been identified as his "I Have A Dream" speech, delivered on August 28, 1963, to about 200,000 people, standing before the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. "I Have A Dream"

Before and since the election of Senator Barack Obama as this nation's first African-American president, many commentators have referenced King's speech, declaring that President-elect Obama represents a fulfillment, if but in part, of King's dream. If you listen to that historic speech, I don’t think you will conclude otherwise. So, whatever else can and has been said about our historic and ground-breaking presidential election, most agree that it represents the maturation of the Civil Rights movement that began over fifty years ago. 

No American should be surprised, then, that the election of Senator Barack Obama as our next president was accompanied by great joy, especially by those who have worked for and waited to witness the fulfillment of King’s inspiring dream. Their joy surpassed those celebrated their political party’s victory. On election night, their joy erupted with great intensity from the hearts of people who have, not only gone from the back seat of the bus to the Oval Office, but remember what it took to get there.

Personal Experience

I was born in 1954, the year the Civil Rights movement began. I was raised in the Chicago area, the home of several major leaders in the Civil Rights movement. I was raised in a God-fearing home. I was nurtured in the Reformed branch of the Christian faith, a group of folk who proudly call one another to “transform culture.”

Yet, I didn’t play a major role in the Civil Rights Movement. I was, for the most-part, on the sidelines. No doubt I was impacted by it, and I made small contributions along the way, but I wouldn’t claim to have fought that good fight and finished that race like the courageous men and women who launched, maintained, and pushed forward that historic movement.

How do I rejoice with those who not only rejoice over the election of Senator Barack Obama as president, but rejoice because they interpret his election as the maturation of the Civil Rights movement? How do I relate to the joy of those who experienced the pain of segregation and discrimination in a country that proclaims life and liberty for all – and who then lived long enough to witness the election of an African-American to the highest office in the land, if not the world? My rejoicing will never match the width, height, breadth, and length of those who fought that good fight, finished that race, and witnessed a dream come true.  

Or Might It?

Or might it? If, in order to genuinely rejoice with those who rejoice, I must draw on the memory of a joy that accompanied a common experience, how do I rejoice with my African-American friends celebrating the maturation of the Civil Rights movement?  

 

I posed that question to one of my seminary students, an African-American pastor who serves a congregation in Chicago. He reminded me that, while I am a white suburban Chicago guy with little to no involvement in the Civil Rights Movement, as a Christian, I have an experience from which I may draw deep memories of joy. I was once enslaved to sin, but the Lord set me free. I was once without hope, but now I sing “Free at last.  Free at last.  Thank God, almighty, I am free at last.”  

So now, as I think about those veteran Civil Rights activists tearfully celebrating the election of Senator Obama as president, I find that I can rejoice with them. But nothing less than the joy of my salvation makes it possible.

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