Of God, Trump, and civility

July parish newsletter article.

Shortly after the guilty verdict was handed down at Donald Trump’s hush-money trial, I saw a post on social media saying that both he and Jesus had been convicted at sham trials. This sentiment disturbed me deeply for a few reasons. First, it elevated Mr. Trump to a level at or near where we hold Jesus as our Lord and savior. Second, it called into question the validity and reason for the trial because Mr. Trump’s supporters did not like the verdict, evidence notwithstanding. Third, when we talk about Jesus’ trial, it is most often followed closely by his death on the cross and what it means for our sins and salvation. I do not want to see Mr. Trump die as a martyr, or as anything else. I cannot accept that his death would be for a noble cause that brings us to a better place, and I cannot abide by profaning the sacred Passion of Christ by comparing it to Mr. Trump’s trial. What I do accept is that there are people experiencing anger, despair, and frustration who look to him to lead us out of our current situation. What that situation actually is depends on who you talk to.

Apart from social media comments, there has been an increase in the polarization of feelings and opinions regarding Mr. Trump and his trial. Any comment or question, even constructive ones, are seen as a personal attack, and the perceived consequences of the trial are being expressed in apocalyptic terms. People are afraid, anxious, and threatened by recent events, but in reality, those events have nothing to do with Mr. Trump. They are reactions to changes we have all experienced, changes that have made us feel uncomfortable and out of place even as we live in familiar surroundings. This means that the conversations we have about Mr. Trump, Congress, the Presidency, and other related subjects need to go beyond our words and the rhetoric we hear. The Anglican tradition of wrestling with scripture to find the word of God beyond the pages of the Bible shows us how to find the truth beyond Mr. Trump and his trial.

One of the lines of the prayer attributed to St. Francis is “let me not seek… to be understood as to understand,” and is a way to start difficult conversations. It implies a position of just listening, rather than listening to present our own views. Another line in the prayer asks that we be made “an instrument of your peace… where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon…” These are the positions we need to take as part of fulfilling our baptismal vows of loving our neighbor as ourselves and ensuring the dignity of every person. Listening, loving, and pardoning lessens our distress from someone else’s opinions and attitudes, but it does something else: by asking about and listening, we begin to understand their fears and concerns beyond Mr. Trump and his trial. These fears and concerns are common among different scenarios, even death.

Dr. Atul Gawande, in his book Being Mortal: Medicine And What Matters In The End, developed three questions that he asks people who are living in fear of their medical condition and possible death: What are your fears and hopes? What do you want to hold onto and what are you willing to give up to keep it? What is the best thing to do in this situation? These questions dig into the deeper reasons for our fearful reactions and are ones to ask someone who believes differently than you do. They are how we can move beyond polarizing emotions and words and discover their source. We do not have to live with the division and antagonism that has come from politics and social change. We can choose to be faithful to our vows of living the life Jesus showed us and have different perspectives and beliefs. There is room at the table for everyone, but it means putting away the either/or view of life in the US and being curious about why people believe what they do.