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Priesthood of Democracy

It is voting time again. A personal appeal to any patriotic American of any political persuasion; Volunteer and LEARN how to work the polls - then do it. Be a part of the most pristine civic exercise in the history of the flipping world. And please, please do vote. My periodic essay on the topic: The High Priests of Democracy (They May Not Be Who You Think) The priests prepare themselves with simple rituals of the day. They mingle before dawn to renew a vow to preserve and protect the Constitution and the process with which they are charged. Divested of the cares of their individual private worlds for one day, they sublimate personal convictions to the higher cause of helping others to express their own. They prepare their chamber with care to receive all who bring their due into this Temple of Democracy. These priests are set well apart from those who inhabit the marble palaces of State. Instead, this the highest sacrament of Democracy is facilitated in the humble shelter of the elementary school gym, the public library meeting room, the house of worship social hall. This priesthood is not garbed in rustling robes whose hemlines jingle with sweet sounding golden bells, white-collared black severity or magenta drama of a pontifical retinue. No. The attire is simple, sometimes draped with homemade vestments of red white and blue. In order to gain the inner sanctum, you may pass a gauntlet of energetic activists gathered just beyond the limit of the outer court. You cross the courtyard and are welcomed into a place where external agitation is unheard, just as Tokyo’s Hibiya Park somehow mutes the racket of busy Ginza boulevards with which it shares air and space. A priests will usher you to a welcoming ceremony where an initial formality is carried out. There may be no crowd, no long wait. Perhaps a few others are ahead of you. As you present a document or recite a bit of personal information, an opining communicant may upset the quiet balance of neutrality. That one is met with smiling albeit pursed lips. Perhaps they realize their gaffe - most do. They are soon enough quieted and ushered away to their next station of ritual. When your turn comes, you will receive a serial-numbered instrument upon which you will inscribe your sacred will as one of The People. Finally, you blend yours with the writs of fellow citizens. You exit peacefully, perhaps accepting a small token. The celebrant doesn’t anoint with oil, but may affix a little sticker to your shoulder that says “I voted.” Later, a pair of priests - of differing political persuasions - will usher your offering under lock and seal to where it will be fully consumed in anonymity. A lesser force than fire perhaps, but it is all we can conjure within the constraints of our feeble humanity. Regardless of the outcome and with greater or lesser degrees of equanimity we will accept the results. This is why America’s great democratic ritual is a potent stabilizing factor, a wonder of this world. Amidst even disappointment or the foolish bluster of some, we must never forget it. The high priests of democracy await your arrival. Come. A personal appeal to any patriotic American of any political persuasion; Volunteer and LEARN how to work the polls - then do it. Be a part of the most pristine civic exercise in the history of the flipping world. And please, please do vote. My essay. The High Priests of Democracy – (They May Not Be Who You Think… ) The priests prepare themselves with certain simple rituals for the day. They mingle before dawn, renewing their vow to preserve and protect the Constitution and the process with which they are charged. Divested of the cares of their individual, private worlds for this day, they sublimate their personal convictions to a higher cause - guarding others’ right to express theirs. They prepare the tables with care for those who will bring their offering into the temple of Democracy. These priests are set apart from those who inhabit the marble palaces of State. Instead, the highest sacrament of Democracy is facilitated in the humble shelter of the elementary school gym, the public library meeting room, the house of worship social hall. This priesthood is not garbed in rustling robes whose hemlines jingle with sweet sounding golden bells, white-collared black severity or the magenta drama of a pontifical retinue. No, their attire is often downright frumpy, sometimes draped with homemade vestments of red white and blue. In order to gain the inner sanctum, you will pass a gauntlet of energetic activists who have gathered just beyond the limit of the outer court. You will cross the courtyard and be welcomed into a place where external agitation is unheard, much as Tokyo’s Hibiya Park somehow excludes the racket of the busy Ginza boulevards with which it shares the same air and space. One of the priests will usher you to a welcoming ceremony where a formality is carried out. There may be no crowd nor long wait, or perhaps just a few others are ahead of you. While you prepare to present a document or recite a bit of personal information you may notice an opining communicant who upsets the quiet balance of neutrality. That one is met with smiling albeit pursed lips. Perhaps they realize their gaffe - most eventually do. They are soon enough ushered away to their next station of ritual. When your turn comes, you will flow through the needful process to receive a serial-numbered instrument upon which you will inscribe your sacred will as one of the People. Finally, you blend yours with the writs of fellow citizens. You exit peacefully, perhaps accepting a small token. The celebrant doesn’t anoint with oil, but may affix a little sticker to your shoulder that says I voted. Later, the priests will usher your offering under lock and seal where it will be fully consumed in anonymity by electronic, mechanical means. A lesser force than fire perhaps, but it is all we can conjure within the constraints of our feeble humanity. Regardless of the outcome of our ritual, with greater or lesser degrees of equanimity we will accept the results. This is why America’s great democratic ritual is a potent stabilizing factor, a wonder of this world. Amidst even disappointment or the foolish bluster of some, we must never forget it. The high priests of Democracy await your arrival. Come.