I don’t know where to start; not because I have nothing to say, but because there is too much and anything I say would be inadequate.

Should I start with the young woman crying after class and wondering what she can do? How can he connect with other people who have had their hearts broken? Or do I start from the night before, when I hugged my rosary and prayed into a troubled sleep while the votes were being counted? Or maybe I should start a few years ago, when an undocumented youth going through the adult Rite of Christian Initiation asked me to be his godfather? I love that kid so much. Or maybe it was 18 years ago when another undocumented and idealistic young man stepped into my brand new faculty office to tell me his story that sparked my work developing resources for undocumented students and their families. Or maybe I should start talking to Pope Francis in a room at the Vatican a month ago? No, it’s not there; I will think of that moment in my heart, especially the deep sadness in your eyes.

I have no interest in repeating this choice. I believe any analysis of what happened will take years to resolve. We may never understand how we got here, especially since history is written (and sanitized) by the winners. But as someone who works in the ministry of theological education and advocacy for the vulnerable, I have three immediate concerns: What are our young people learning? What do we do as people of faith to actively reduce suffering? And finally, what will the future be?

Who are we?

Our young people have learned that we live in a reality where there is no “us” for now. This is a destabilizing space to exist in as a young person and we need to soberly accept that fact. Juveniles of most species learn from adults first, and once they reach adolescence they prioritize learning from peers. Humans, like many other creatures, are social by nature. But we have witnessed a catastrophic unraveling of our social fabric. Our youth are learning (and perhaps teaching each other) that insults, greed, bigotry and misogyny will ultimately win. They are taught through words and deeds that the most fundamental of all Christian beliefs—the belief that God is love and that we should care for all of God’s creations—can be trampled without consequence in the pursuit of personal gain. They witnessed that those who sought compromise, those who prioritized the dignity of others, would be ridiculed and defeated. They have seen with their own eyes that behaviors that would not be tolerated in most homes can be exhibited in front of cameras, applauded and encouraged. It often seems that the only values ​​that survive today are the false sheen of wealth and power and the permission to use any means necessary to get there.

we’ve been here before

The history of Christianity is full of times when we chose thrones over Holiness. The pursuit of profit and power is not a victimless crime. The pursuit of unlimited profit requires a ruthless disregard for the needs of others, and it is power that makes this possible. The United States has told him many stories about his innocence and glory; None of them are completely true. So is it any wonder that we no longer know how to recognize lies? One of the most difficult things the early church had to do was to publicly combat errors and lies, as we see clearly in the writings of Paul and Acts. The early Christians had to deal with power struggles, manipulation, deception, and division, and they did so by articulating it and pointing to the promises that Jesus had come to fulfill. There was another way to be human, another way to care for creation, another way to honor God’s dreams. Prophets have been shouting this for generations, asking for repentance and conversion. Sometimes their voices could be heard; They have been silenced many times. What’s happening in the United States right now will impact not only this country but our entire planet for generations to come.

Will we remain silent?

None of us can predict how many of the threats made during this campaign will be carried out by the new administration, but we must take the possibility seriously. We are told of plans to massively and violently deport immigrants, end programs that support the poor, dismantle public education, ban teaching about our difficult history, and continue burning our planet to a crisp to fuel all our materialistic vices. . Guessing is a fool’s errand; On the other hand, preparation is the job of the prudent.

It no longer matters which way we vote or don’t vote. What matters is what happens next. Our neighborhoods, schools and neighborhoods have to prepare for difficult days. We must especially protect our immigrant brothers and sisters. We foresee the forced separation of parents from children. We must do the harrowing task of preparing documents that transfer the care of children to caring neighbors and friends. Our small businesses and farms must be prepared for repeated raids; the disappearance of mothers, fathers, siblings, and friends, and the spread of widespread economic distress as harvests rot and basic tasks remain unfulfilled. We will have to feed each other. We must be prepared for the loss of health care and other safety nets for our elderly and sick. We’ll have to come together to heal each other’s wounds. Our schools, universities and libraries may become targets; Our books may be banned, our journalists may be imprisoned. We will have to teach each other to remember what is right.

None of this is theoretical to me. As a young child in Cuba, I already experienced the disintegration of a country’s society. This desolate feeling feels all too familiar. In my extended family, we have had to flee many places many times. When my mother-in-law died, she had already experienced displacement and refuge twice in her life; Tragically, so does my 91-year-old father.

What about the future?

Despite the consequences of this choice, I still believe what I told my children: The world is full of good people who are ready to do the right thing. The future needs to nurture this innate goodness, bring us together and help us reorient ourselves in life-giving directions. To do this, we will need to confront what is broken and imagine new ways to heal.

Let’s focus on abundance. Abundance is very different from wealth. Abundance means there is enough for all of us if we learn to share. It is the abundance of bread and fish that no one goes hungry. This requires generosity and turning attention from ourselves to the needs of others.

Let’s overcome fear. Unfounded fear of strangers and their behavior masks our real fear that we will lose our power and influence. Fear of our vulnerability fuels racism, sexism, nationalism and all attitudes that build walls, drop bombs and degrade the weak. The “strong men” of this world are the absolute antithesis of Jesus on the cross; They sit in opulent palaces and watch their cities burn while sharing the world.

There’s a lot of work to be done. God’s reign groans under the weight of human egoism. Only the opposite, generosity that carries the neighbor based on love, can set him free.