Today’s the day.
I promised myself I wasn’t going to be online today, but we all know I can’t tear myself away.
I started blogging in early 2016, during Trump’s rise to power. I thought I was going to blog primarily about prayers and how much I dislike living in the Ohio Valley. I never in a million years thought that I would become notorious for being a Catholic committed to the whole social teaching of the Church– yes, including the teaching on abortion– who spoke out against Donald Trump and called out the rank hypocrisy in the pro-life movement. It’s not something I like to do. I don’t like what my comment box looks like when I do it. I don’t like the gossip, harassment and shunning from local Catholics.
I wanted to be a poet who wrote about how much I like trees. But I felt bound in conscience to say something. I believe it’s a necessary tenet of my faith to try and address injustice– to do what you can, and whether you can do something or not, to cry out against it.
I had no idea I’d be “crying out” so often.
In 2016 I thought, “Surely the pro-life movement will grow a spine. Surely they’ll realize they’re being played. Surely, they’re not going to go through with this. They can’t possibly prove true every negative stereotype that’s ever been perpetuated about them.”
And I was completely wrong about that.
Just about four years ago to the day, Frank Pavone performed what I pray will be the final appearance of an abused and exploited preserved human corpse on an altar at a daily Mass, and things went steadily downhill from there. Now, here we are. People are turning out to vote in record numbers, which is a good sign.
Trump’s chances don’t look good, but we all know that may not mean anything.
He seems to be pretty nervous himself. I don’t know how many layers of wall he’s had build around the White House at this point– four, I think, and not paid for by Mexico either. He’s in there somewhere, hiding in the bunker, anticipating violence. But he’s been wrong before.
Most of us are anticipating violence of one sort or another.
I am afraid. One of my favorite saints is Joan of Arc, but I’m not like her. I can’t say “I am not afraid. I was born to do this.” I can only say “I am afraid. I’m sick of all this and I wish it were over. I hope that I’m doing my best to do what I was born to do. But here while I’m doing it, I hate it, and I’m terrified.”
Still, I’m not as afraid as I thought I’d be.
I don’t put my trust in princes, and I don’t think any other Christian should. I used to believe that voting for Republicans all the way down the ticket, cheering for them at rallies, defending them from even the most rudimentary criticism, and vilifying their opponents, were ways to stand up for the dignity of life, and I now I’ve grown up and I realize that was a huge mistake. But that doesn’t mean doing the same thing for Democrats is right. It isn’t.
There are two political parties in America: the ones who relish brutality and call that virtue, and the ones who are less likely to be brutal, at least when people are looking. And which one is relishes brutality doesn’t stay the same through the ages: current Republicans like to remind us about Abraham Lincoln, as if both parties didn’t switch platforms during the Civil Rights Movement.
The difference does matter. Trump simply is worse than Biden. Fewer people will suffer and die under Biden than under Trump. And yes, I even mean fewer unborn people will suffer and die, if that matters to you (and it should). I’ve already pointed out the ways in which the Trump presidency is driving abortion rates up. That’s not nothing. That’s extremely important. We’re watching it happen right now. That is, as I’ve said before, a genie we might be able to stuff back in the bottle if Trump is thrashed soundly enough at the polls tonight.
But it’s not good enough.
The horrors that privileged Americans have had their attention drawn to this past four years, existed under Obama. They only came to a head under Trump, in no small part due to his provocation. They’re not his problems, they’re America’s. They existed under Bush and Clinton and Bush the First as well. I’m not saying both sides are the same but neither side has clean hands. Each president has a hand in jacking up the danger or not doing enough to stop it, one way or another. Racism existed, and was politely ignored. Police brutality existed, and was encouraged in the name of “law and order.” The terrible poverty and the massive inequality between the haves and the have nots was always ignored. Immigrants were always exploited. The environmental destruction that has resulted in I forget how many hurricanes devastating the Gulf this year was chugging merrily along. Trump did everything he could to exacerbate our unreadiness for a pandemic, but we were never going to have an easy time. And so on.
I don’t think things will go back to normal. I just don’t see how we can ever go back to being the culture we were in about 2014 before this downward spiral began, when Donald Trump was just a joke with a reality show. But the important thing to remember, is that for the majority of people, “normal” never existed in the first place. The anxiety you might feel for the first time now is something like the terror that they feel all the time. The violence we fear now, and much worse things as well, were always present in the America they knew. It’s just new to us. But we can make a country that’s better than the one we thought we had.
I don’t think we as Catholics can look at each other the same way again– now that we’ve seen where everyone’s real priorities lie, what they actually meant when they said they respected “life.” But we can repent of our sins and strive to be what we weren’t before.
I don’t think the credibility of the pro-life movement, such as it was, can be brought back. But we can let the charlatans, liars and racists fade into obscurity and build a new, authentic-life movement that fights for everyone’s rights.
Whatever you’ve found yourself doing differently since we all sat down to laugh at Trump’s predicted failure in 2016 and found out the joke was on us; whatever you ended up doing to try to help during these horrible ten months of 2020; whatever suddenly became important to you: that’s your assignment now, no matter what happens. Keep remembering to give cans and hand sanitizer to the food pantry, volunteering at organizations that help immigrants, demonstrating at protests, stopping to get out your phone if you see a police officer pulling over a Black neighbor. Keep asking yourself what you’ve taken for granted and whether it’s true or not. Keep changing based on new information so you can better hear the cry of the poor.
Whoever wins, hold their feet to the fire and demand change, whether this is easy for you or hard.
Our kingdom is not of this world. I thought that was something all Catholics believed, before I started blogging and discovered how naïve I’d been. But it’s still something that I believe. Our kingdom is not of this world, but we are not excused from acting at all times as if we belong to the Kingdom of God while we live in this world. We can’t bow to the state idols, whatever they may be. We have to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God in this world, no matter what.
I’m going to get offline for a bit now. I’ve already voted, but I’m going to get out of the house and run errands on foot. Rosie and I will pick up a couple of things for The Friendship Room. That’s something we can do right now, to live as if we belong to the Kingdom of God.
What can you do?
If you haven’t voted yet, as of the time I hit “publish” you’ve got a couple of hours, go vote.
And then do something else.
And keep doing it until Christ returns.
And I’ll see you all tomorrow.
Image via Pixabay.
Mary Pezzulo is the author of Meditations on the Way of the Cross.
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