“We are not simply resisting something; we are saying yes to a deeper reality.” — Dorothee Sölle
On Saturday, something remarkable happened.
In cities across the United States, and in places around the world, millions of people took to the streets in protest in what looks to be the largest protest in US history. We marched not just in anger or outrage, though there was plenty of both. We came in fierce love, in deep solidarity, in the sobering clarity that this nation has entered a new chapter of repression, and in full-bodied refusal to cooperate with it.
We came dressed in inflatable dinosaur costumes, in rainbow flags, in clerical collars, in nothing extraordinary at all. We came as ourselves. And that was the most revolutionary thing of all.
We have entered a season in which absurdity and cruelty walk hand-in-hand. When a president invokes “law and order” while undermining the Constitution, when he awards the Medal of Freedom to white nationalist figures while criminalizing children at the border, when inflatable joy is framed as terrorism and dissent is met with tanks: these are not rhetorical flourishes. They are the tactics of authoritarianism.
And yet—millions refused to stay home. Millions refused to be afraid.
This moment is not the collapse of democracy. It is the reveal of what has long been true.
It reveals a political system that has for generations depended on the pain of the marginalized to subsidize the comfort of the dominant. It reveals a state that disguises control as stability, and retaliation as righteousness. Perhaps most sobering: it reveals how fragile our collective myths have been—about progress, about innocence, about who this country is.
We are now living inside a disillusionment that feels, at times, unbearable. But we are also living inside an opening.
Theologian Dorothee Sölle called this kind of moment “revolutionary patience.” She wrote that resistance must be rooted not in rage alone, but in a deeper faith in life itself, a faith that no system, no empire, no regime, can extinguish the human longing for freedom, for dignity, for beloved community. That longing is holy.
That is what animated the protests this weekend. Not performance. Not partisanship. Something older and deeper: a recognition that this nation has reached a spiritual threshold.
People of faith must name this moment for what it is, one that requires more than commentary or charitable acts. It requires presence. It requires courage. It requires a holy refusal to be useful to injustice.
Bonhoeffer, writing from prison in the final months of his life, said:
“We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice. We are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself.”
That’s what this movement is doing. It’s not just calling out what’s wrong; it’s declaring what’s right. It’s refusing to be complicit in systems that demand silence. It’s insisting that joy, play, and fierce tenderness are not weak responses to tyranny. They are necessary correctives to its deadening logic.
We cannot outgun authoritarianism. But we can outlive it, not by waiting it out, but by refusing to be shaped in its image.
This is the work now. Not just protesting—though protest matters. Not just voting—though that too is critical. The deeper work is to reclaim our moral clarity. To find each other again in the streets and sanctuaries and kitchens and Zoom calls. To remember that we belong to one another. And to act like it.
The body knows what the intellect forgets: we are not machines. We are ecosystems of feeling and memory and care. When we show up together, we signal to the world, and to ourselves, that something deeper is possible.
That may be enough to keep us going.
We are in this together,
Cameron
Reflection Questions
What patterns of compliance or silence am I being invited to release?
How does my body respond when I hear the call to protest? To presence? To joy?
What does “holy disobedience” look like in my context, my body, my voice?
A Prayer for the Day
A Prayer For the Road Ahead
O Spirit of Truth and Courage, You who have stirred people to rise in every generation, Wake us from numbness and despair. Help us to see clearly what we are in—and who we are meant to be. Let us not confuse comfort with peace, order with justice, or delay with patience. Give us the wisdom to discern our complicity. Give us the strength to break our silences. And when we feel overwhelmed, remind us: We are not alone. We never were. There is a holy company marching beside us, And we are becoming the people we’ve been waiting for. Amen.
Spiritual Practice
Becoming Disobedient in Holy Ways
Today, ask yourself not what you can fix, but what you can interrupt.
Where have I been performing obedience to a system I no longer trust?
Where can I offer tenderness where fear is expected?
Where can I refuse cynicism, and risk hope instead?
These are not small gestures. They are seismic shifts.
Practice metabolizing fear into fierce care. Practice composting despair into defiant joy. Practice remembering that you are part of something much larger than yourself.
Upcoming Events That Might Be of Interest…
October 20-24, 2025 - FREE Online 5-Day Summit on “Made for These Times: Spiritual Leadership for a World in Crisis.” Political extremism. Climate collapse. Cultural fragmentation. People of faith across the globe are asking: How do we lead with clarity, courage, and compassion in a time like this? REGISTER HERE.
October 23, 30, November 13, 20 2025, 7pm ET - In Search of a New Story: Reimagining What Comes Next, A 4-Part Online Series with Dr. Matthew Fox, Cameron Trimble, Ilia Delio, Diana Butler Bass, Caroline Myss and Luther Smith. We are living through the unraveling of many old stories—about who we are, why we’re here, and how we are meant to live together on this Earth. As these inherited narratives collapse under the weight of climate crisis, social fragmentation, and spiritual disconnection, the question becomes clear: What story will guide us now? REGISTRATION NOW OPEN!
October 30 - December 4, 2025 - Online Course “Partnering with Life: Our Missing Ally” with Margaret Wheatley. Meg is launching a new course (and I will be tagging along). Partnering with life means much more than getting into nature to soothe our troubled selves. Life is waiting for us to join her as we struggle to maintain sanity through this dark and destructive time. Learn more and register here.
July 19-24, 2026 - Join me and amazing co-facilitator, Victoria, on retreat in the back-country of beautiful Wyoming. The Art of Wilding is a 5-Day Expedition for Women Leaders. We will spend the week reconnecting to nature, exploring our inner landscapes for change, and engage the wisdom of spiritual teachings. Click here to learn more.
I drafted a Strategic Framework for Congregations as we move into the coming years of increased authoritarianism around the world. If interested, you can download it here.
If you are a leader or member of a congregation looking for consulting support in visioning, planning, hiring or staffing, please consider Convergence.
Thank you for this reflection I will return to this.
I marched in Chicago for the fourth time the past Saturday
And sometimes I despair that I know so many who will not March and wind up in despair . I am glad I join. It gives me some hope.
"It reveals a political system that has for generations depended on the pain of the marginalized to subsidize the comfort of the dominant." I am reminded of the ending of serfdom after the bubonic plague in the 14th century. Will there be a plague as a result of the decimation of health care???