So, what do we do now?

[for the post-election moment, an evergreen manifesto]

Well. What now?

There are many ways to answer this question. I’m not going to outline any practical strategies here, but I will mention some guidelines that I intend to follow, since I was following them anyway, and I see no reason to change now.¹

I will not add to the suck.

I will not embrace bitterness or anger. Nor will I unnecessarily provoke others to anger.

I hope to resist freaking out, panicking, wringing my hands, and anxiously huffing and puffing. Not because I may not feel like it, but because I have it on excellent authority that it does no good. I trusted in God yesterday, and I hope to continue trusting him today and tomorrow.

I hope, by God’s grace, to love my neighbor, not just in pious fiction, but in concrete, practical ways, and, insofar as it is within my power, to be at peace with all human beings. Even enemies—or those who may consider me an enemy.

If you are weeping, or angry, or fearful, you are my neighbor, and I mourn with you. If you are celebrating, you are my neighbor, and blessings on you. If we disagreed yesterday, we disagree today, and I will continue today and tomorrow to advocate what I believe in, but for my part you are not my enemy.

The world is broken. It always has been. All too often, the strong do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must. If it is true that the arc of the moral universe bends toward justice, it must be so very, very long. And, all too often, Christian belief and piety, along with other systems of religious and irreligious belief, have coexisted with, and been used to justify, hatred, contempt, wrath, and violence. I am not blind to any of this, nor do I dismiss or minimize it.

If you feel inclined to rage or loathing, I can’t say I blame you. Nor do I blame you if you feel inclined to schadenfreude or triumphalism. All of these are human nature. Loving enemies is not. It’s something else.

You are my neighbor if you supported Trump, and if you supported Harris. You are my neighbor if you are undocumented, or a person of color, or identify as LGBTQ. I am well aware that someone who looks like me has much less to fear than many from the perils of our cultural moment, and how much easier it is for me to talk about not freaking out and loving enemies than it is for those who are more vulnerable. I am not glib about any of this, or I hope I’m not.

If you will hear it from me, I recommend empathy, generosity, and forgiveness. Yes, even toward those who offer none themselves. They may not know it, but they need it the most. You may very reasonably feel that this is too much to ask, or that it’s just wrongheaded—that it papers over evil. I get it. I don’t agree, but I understand.

I hope today and tomorrow to do what I can to try to make the world a better place than it is today. Maybe you see me as an obstacle to the better world you want. I hope not. Our beliefs may differ in important respects, but I am human and you are human, and, if we get to know one another, we may learn that we have things in common.

I started out with the question “What do we do now?” I’m aware that I haven’t offered any specific answers—and, indeed, I haven’t confronted any specific questions. What I have tried to do is express something of the terms on which the answers I’m interested in will proceed. This is not enough, I recognize. But it’s what I have today.²

1. Full disclosure: These words were not newly composed for this present moment. They have been adapted and expanded from a message I have posted repeatedly in the past following momentous public turning points, irrespective of whether or not I approved of the new direction.

2. A plea: I will leave the comments open to all. I want readers to feel free to share whatever they are feeling—but I don’t want this combox to devolve into a platform for partisan debate. A big ask, I understand! Maybe impossibly quixotic. Anyway, I hope you will try. (If you want to post in a partisan vein on my last post, have at it.)