November 5th has come and gone, and we are all still here. But the stakes of polite conversation at Thanksgiving dinner have just gotten a lot higher. For some, there may be election excitement withdrawal — the looming uncertainty and anxiety about the results we didn’t know have disappeared. What are we supposed to do now?

I don’t know about you, but I’m grateful the whole thing is over. Just doing the research on candidates before voting gave me an unexplainably unpleasant rush of adrenaline and stress. It is one thing to hear about the election by word of mouth. Becoming immersed in the research of many influential leadership positions, the candidates vying for each one, and the different policies each is bringing to the table — that is quite another.

But as I closed my laptop and looked at my friend across the Rough Draft table, quiet jazz interweaving with conversation in the background, peace came over me. Because no matter who sits in the White House, we still have these moments. 

The Sunday before Election Day, my pastor took a break from his sermon series on 1 Corinthians to talk about how Christians can face the election. His message about growth in struggle stuck with me — something very similar to what we hear at Hillsdale. Under leaders that support Christianity and lead with its values, sure, believers can flourish. But should leaders suppress the spread of Christianity, such times can also lead to a strengthening of the faith, as our school motto reminds us. Believers will learn to ask and answer the tough questions about Christianity: they will cling more closely in community to each other. What really matters in their relationship with God and relationship with others will become clear, past the haze of complacency we can so easily fall into.

There is no win-lose game in this election, only a win-win because Christ will always reign supreme over politics. We will have to decide that people always matter more than what they believe, that there is a soul and a story behind each vote. Despite the discomfort at Thanksgiving dinner and awkward conversations with friends, there will still be love. We will simply have to learn to try harder at it.

So take a minute and tune out the heated political discussion at Thanksgiving dinner to watch your grandpa cut his turkey that weird way, to laugh with that uncle that has no filter, to help a sister take care of the newest additions to the family. 

“There are no ordinary people,” C.S. Lewis wrote in “The Weight of Glory.” “Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations — these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit — immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”

Amid the hubbub of the nation recovering from the election, it is important to take each other seriously, as Lewis advises — with “no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.” It is through the ordinary moments of quiet love and care that we can move forward. Even if the outcome had been different, that truth would remain the same.

 

Megan Li is a sophomore studying economics.