I’ve been praying for President Trump.
In the Episcopal faith, there is a portion of the service referred to as the Prayers of the People. In addition to individual petitions and expressions of gratitude offered up each week by parishioners the Book of Common Prayer offers a standard – you might say common – text to be read each Sunday. Included in my congregation’s version are petitions on behalf of our bishop, president, and governor by name.
In Colorado, this presents an interesting trio. Our bishop, Kym Lucas, is an African American woman, our governor, Jared Polis, is a Democrat and an out gay man, and Donald Trump is a Republican and a straight man.
The first time these names aligned following Polis’s inauguration, it hit me as peculiar. No matter who was in the pews, at least one of those names likely represented progress and at least one of those names was problematic.
President Trump’s was the problematic name for me. After his inauguration, the first Sunday his name was uttered, took me by surprise. “Oh,” I thought, “we’re going to pray for him?”
Here was a man who stood for so much of what I work against, and I was praying for him. I struggled with the Prayers of the People for weeks. Each time I knew, “for Donald, our President” was coming, I considered including my own footnote “but not really.”
The ritual of praying for President Trump became a more present and active part of my prayers than all of the rest of it. If I believed we are called to love everyone, it had to mean everyone – even someone whose actions I detest. No caveats. Otherwise, I was no better than those who believed there was no place for me in the church.
That was difficult. Is difficult. But that difficulty kept President Trump human. It kept my arguments against his actions and policies centered on those actual actions and policies.
In her most recent episode of the Unlocking Us podcast, Brené Brown takes on the dangers of dehumanizing words and actions. She shares her own resistance to dehumanizing President Trump. The episode helped me think through much of what the Prayers of the People have helped me practice these last four years.
Next Sunday’s prayers will shift again. Donald will no longer be built into the service. I wonder where I will make space to continue to offer love to someone who has caused so much pain. Will I be strong enough to care for someone I’m all but certain would not care for me?