In moments of national crisis, we are called to pause and reflect on what truly matters. We live in a time when trust within our communities has been shaken. Today, our friendships and relationships are shaped by politics—by who thinks, votes, and believes as we do. Even within our families, political views have strained relationships. In some cases, we dread family gatherings because of politics—our identity is defined by political loyalties first, and family ties have become secondary. In times of political tension, we fear calls from certain family members whose views differ from ours—we no longer trust their judgment, or so we believe. But if we do not trust our own family members’ judgment, how can we trust our neighbors?
Friends, this loss of trust is not just sad—it is corrosive. When trust erodes, we retreat into camps of us and them. Instead of seeing one another as partners in building a shared future, we see strangers, competitors, even potential enemies. We become disjointed individuals living side by side but not truly together. We hide our true thoughts and feelings out of fear. In this climate, it becomes too easy to dehumanize one another—to wish harm, to dismiss each other’s worth—because we no longer feel each other’s humanity. We are not one.
It is tempting to place the blame on one leader or one political party. For years we have shouted names—Trump, Obama, and others. But no single figure can heal this wound for us. Rebuilding trust is work we must all share. To imagine that “the other side” will fix things while we stand by is to deceive ourselves. If we are truly honest, we will see how we have contributed to this culture by assuming for too long that only our views matter.
I believe, however, that we can still find our way back to something bigger and better. It begins with courage—the courage to see one another as human first, not as enemies. It requires humility—the humility to admit we do not have all the answers, that we may be wrong, and that others may hold truths we need to hear. This is not weakness; it is wisdom, and it is the very heart of a healthy democracy.
We must also learn to listen—especially to those who have suffered the most. Too often, the voices of victims of violence, injustice, and addiction are drowned out by the dominant group. When we ignore their pain, we deepen the divide between us. Listening to them and honoring their stories is an act of rebuilding trust. This is what we all need.
I remain hopeful. The longing for connection still lives in every one of us. We have the power to create new things. If we open our hearts, listen deeply, and choose humility, we can begin again—together.
Are you willing to begin this great work?
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From the E-Crier of September 18, 2025. Subscribe to the weekly newsletter.