How Should I Respond to Post-Election Divisiveness?

There is a lot that can and has been said about this past week’s election. I’ve talked to people who are on the verge of tears and those who are elated. I have friends who voted for Harris who can’t see how any Christian could vote for Trump because of his character. I have friends who voted for Trump who can’t see how any Christian could vote for Harris because of her beliefs. And then I have friends who can’t see why anyone voted at all. My guess is you do as well.

As someone who splits my working hours with pro-Democrat and pro-Republican clients, I think I’ve got a pretty good feel for where both sides are coming from. I’ve spent months working with midwestern blue-collar authors who are die-hard Trump loyalists. I’ve worked with inner-city white-collar leaders who were very pro-Harris. Through months of conversation, both sides have shared their struggles with the other.

First, it's no secret there are two very different American experiences. Broadly speaking, if you live in a dense urban culture, you’re more likely to vote Democrat, and if you’re more rural, you’re much more likely to vote Republican. Second, it’s also true that we’re not as divided as we think. The most liberal and conservative authors I’ve worked with still have many wonderful ideas, even if I disagree with them in a few key areas.

There is a lot more common ground with those on the “other side” than mainstream media or popular podcasts lead us to believe. That isn’t to say there isn’t crazy on both sides and that I don’t generally favor one side’s ideals more than the other. I lean conservative both socially and fiscally, but I think America was given two terrible options on Tuesday.

I’m also not making a case that all arguments are equal and that we all just need to learn not to disagree. Just the opposite. Healthy disagreement is one of the vital signs of healthy relationship. My point here isn’t to debate the pros and cons of both sides. I’ve heard too many arguments, and you’ve heard too many arguments. The election is over, and besides, the last thing any American needs is a Canadian giving thoughts on how they should have voted. 😄

But if there’s one thing my ongoing interactions with people from both sides have taught me, it’s that the greatest threat most of us face does not come from without but from within. It’s the danger of having a heart that becomes condescending towards people we do not know and don’t want to understand. This is my struggle—especially when I feel someone isn’t being fair or doesn’t understand the other side.

A pro-Democrat person alludes that the ONLY reason Trump won was because Trump supporters are racists, misogynists, or white supremacists. A pro-Republican person scoffs at ALL Harris voters as being woke lunatics, lovers of child murder, or eager to put as many males in women’s bathrooms as possible.

When I hear comments like this, I feel the urge to set the record straight, to be a constant corrector. Why? Is it because I really care about truth, or is there something else? These past eight years have been a bit of a mind-warp for many Christians of my generation who share my theological leanings. We’ve seen many conservative Christians we respected go all-in for a man whose character is everything they once spoke against. On the other hand, we’ve seen more liberal Christians we respected embrace progressive lifestyle choices we never thought we’d see them make.

But as I’ve taken a step back, I’ve realized my greatest challenge is not what my Christian friends and leaders do or don’t do. My biggest challenge is keeping my eyes on Jesus and living in humility and not condescension. Condescension is so icky, and it creeps up in ways that seem justified. “I can’t believe they think that.” “Did you see what Y said about Z?” “I am just so sad they live like this.”

The reality is people will always be disappointments. They’re people. Honestly, if I could go back to 2016 and start over, I would spend way less time focusing on what others are doing and way more energy asking Christ to form my character. This is hard to do when the alternative is so attractive. It’s easy and tempting to address public areas where we feel we have the moral high ground but ignore those private areas we struggle. While we can’t control what happens TO us, we can control what happens IN us.

The last few weeks, I’ve been having my kids memorize Philippians 2:5-8. To me, this passage is the bedrock of Christian living. Here, Paul says:

Adopt the same attitude as that of Christ Jesus,who, existing in the form of God, did not consider equality with God as something to be exploited. Instead he emptied himself by assuming the form of a servant, taking on the likeness of humanity. And when he had come as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—even to death on a cross.

When I think of these words, I can’t help but be humbled. The God of this universe—all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-sufficient—said, I will not ask my people to come up to where I am. I will go down to where they are at. I will lay aside my rights and privileges for those who deserve it the least. I will spend three years with Simon the Christian Nationalist, Matthew the tax-collecting oppressor, Peter the racist, Thomas the doubter, and Judas the future murderer. I’ll love them not because they deserve it but because this is who I am.

This is the mindset we’re supposed to have. When we get our eyes on others and their perceived inconsistencies, we become condescending. But when we keep our eyes on Christ, we condescend to where people are. Not to prove we’re better but to walk in the footsteps of Christ. We love because we have been loved.

If you wrestle with this tension as I do, keep reaching out to those who think differently than you. Keep loving those your echo chambers have told you to despise. And most importantly, keep looking to Jesus.