There are sharply diverging reactions to the recent election. Some people are enthusiastic, seeing it as the beginning of a new era. On the other end of the spectrum, some people are despondent, seeing it as the beginning of the end. Either way, we need to step back and realize that there are pitfalls to being ruled by the emotions at either extreme.According to Rev. Charles Drew in his article ‘The Morning After’:
Jubilation needs to be tempered by humility. Despondency needs to be tempered by hope. In both cases King Jesus must do the tempering.
In the first case, the case of the jubilant among us, Jesus will temper that joy by whispering to us that no human rule can possibly approach the beauty, perfection, power, and permanence of his. He will whisper that there are bound to be enormous flaws in a Trump presidency and a Republican congress.
We will be glad perhaps, but we will know not to be too glad.
In the second case, the case of the despondent among us, Jesus will temper the despair by whispering that he has not ceased to rule our country even if we think a Trump presidency and a Republican congress are a disaster—or even if they actually do prove to be disastrous. He will whisper that he rules in all things for our good, even really tough things.
That being said, how should we strive to temper our emotions and focus on our neighbor? Depending on our different emotional states, the protocol may differ:
If we are happy, we will need to seek out the brother or sister who is despondent and ask them why. We will need to do this for at least two reasons: First because Paul tells us to "weep with those who weep." Our bonds within the church, across party lines, should be deeper than our bonds within the politics we have chosen… There is a second reason we need to "cross the aisle" at church the morning after. The shape of the victory we are celebrating is bound to be flawed in ways that we may not have the eyes to see, certainly not fully. We will need the insight of our grieving brother or sister to be change agents within the political community we inhabit.
Jesus' marching orders for us if we are despondent are different. In this case he will tell us not to withdraw into our despondency. He will tell us to keep loving our neighbors as ourselves as best we can. Love and hope, not anger and despair, are the proper wellsprings of all Christian behavior. Read the latter part of Romans 8 and you will see this. There Paul writes of "nakedness, famine, the sword, and hostile powers"—and yet he writes in a tone that rings with confident joy. Knowing that "nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God that is in our Lord Jesus Christ" sets a song in his heart. That song needs to be ours as well and, when it is, it will keep us engaged with our neighbors, seeking to love them as we love ourselves, even if their political jubilation seems utterly unwarranted. And it will keep us especially engaged with those among the jubilant who are fellow believers, for when Paul writes that nothing will separate "us" from the love of God in Christ, he means "us"—all of us.
In the end, what we need to come to terms with is the fact that Christ wants followers to channel their emotions for the sake of their brothers and sisters. He wants us to banish pride and gloating, as well as despair from our hearts in order to make room for His Love.
