A Vermont awakening

by Gaylord Livingston 

In towns from St. Albans to Brattleboro, Vermonters sense something has shifted. The old promises—of better schools, safer streets, fair governance—feel worn. Trust in institutions is fraying. The legislature passes laws; bureaucracies expand; media shapes narratives. But in quiet corners—on porches, in diners, at the feed store—people are beginning to ask if the system itself is broken.

The Third Party is not just a political option. It’s a symbol of moral reclamation. It says: we no longer believe that power, as currently exercised, can safeguard our liberty, our values, or our dignity.

Prophets from the Vernacular

In biblical times, prophets did not rise from kings’ courts but from fields, deserts, villages. In Vermont, they may be farmers, teachers, small-business owners, or writers who refuse to stay silent. They point not only to what is wrong but to what we must believe again—to courage, honesty, neighborliness.

Idols We Can’t See

We no longer bow before golden calves. Instead, we worship systems—big government, centralized planning, technocracy, and corporate influence. They promise efficiency. But those promises demand obedience. In Vermont, too often we trade input for identity, participation for passivity.

Our Digital Tower

We built a new tower not of stone but of screens—apps, platforms, data pipelines. We thought more connection meant more voice; instead we’ve grown dependent. The networks meant to unite us now amplify division, harvest our lives, and silence dissent through algorithmic force.

Yet a strange opportunity lies in (and under) that Babel. In its ruins, truth can slip between the cracks. Local voices can bypass gatekeepers. What was once hidden becomes visible again.

Populism, Moses, and the Many

Pharaoh feared the many. So do modern institutions. Their chains are subtler—financial systems, media narratives, algorithmic control. The populist is not a mob; the populist is democracy unmediated, an assertion by the many that they will no longer be ruled by distant shadows. Moses did not lead by promise of comfort; he led by demand of justice: “Let my people go.”

In Vermont’s towns, when people stop believing in systems, they will believe in one another again. That is the real threat to an empire.

The Illusion We Call Democracy

Here in Vermont, we are taught to trust ballots, campaigns, debates. Yet the real levers often lie behind closed doors: lobbyists, mandates, subsidy deals, executive agencies. The public performance masks the private pact. Democracy becomes ritual, not rule. And the people, told they are sovereign, become spectators.

The modern politician is not corrupt because he makes laws; he is corrupt when he uses laws to entrench power. He invokes democracy as a cloak, much like priests once invoked “God’s will” to coerce devotion. The voter who thinks his ballot is a prayer should see that the temple is empty—and the keepers are trading souls in the back.

Chapel, Marketplace, and Soul

When Christ drove merchants from the temple, He was not condemning commerce but reclaiming the sacred. In our age, the soul is the commodity: data harvested, preferences monetized, beliefs shaped by subtle coercion. If He walked this Vermont soil today, He would find sanctuaries turned into shopping arcs, confession into clickstreams.

Renewal from the Roots

The early church grew underground, in homes, in whispers, in conviction—not by force. That is the model for our civic renewal. It begins in small circles: neighbors speaking truth, activists building local integrity, citizens refusing to outsource morality to institutions that betrayed it.

Comfort, Power, Safety—The Temptations of Our Time

Governments offer comfort. Corporations offer safety. Media offer power. But each gift is weighted with cost. The true choice is not between left and right, but between truth and convenience. Fear tempts us to comply. Faith compels us to resist.

Re-Civilizing Vermont

Collapse is not the end; it is the clearing of old ruins so something new can grow. Vermont stands at a crossroads—not just as a state, but as a moral experiment. We must ask whether we will cling to broken systems—or build by principles instead: local accountability, personal conscience, integrity in speech and deed.

Freedom is not handed out. Liberty blooms when people remember it belongs to them. A nation lives or dies by the courage of its citizens. Let Vermonters be among the courageous.