I have a testimony: Late last year, I felt an unwavering fear about the 2024 election and all that it could bring. This fear was accompanied by a deep sense of exhaustion, fueled by my exhaustion with how broken and polarized our politics seems to have become and how another election year would test both our faith and our democracy. This burnout manifested itself in restless sleep, nagging fatigue, and a frustrating feeling of déjà vu, all of which impacted my mental, physical, and spiritual health.
Obviously, I am far from alone :A recent Pew survey found that 65 percent of Americans say they often or always feel exhausted when they think about politics and 55 percent often or always feel angry. Although this may seem relevant, it is not sustainable. If nothing is done, I fear this type of national exhaustion will tempt us all to disengage and disengage at the very time when political engagement, including voting, is crucial. Worse still, this type of political cynicism and despair plays into the hands of authoritarian leaders who are all too happy to use the political vacuum created by exhaustion to gain their own power.
As Christians, we tend to approach grueling election years with two opposing, but equally unhelpful, theologies. On the one hand, paraphrasing the words of Saint Teresa of Avila, it is the idea that God has “no other hand than ours”. Although rooted in beloved passages of Scripture like Matthew 25, which ask us to care for others as we would care for Jesus himself, when these Christian teachings are taken too far, we begin to feel that the burden of solving all the world’s countless problems falls solely on us.
Even if we recognize (quite reasonably!) that none of us can individually To solve huge societal problems like poverty, racism, or war, it begins to feel like there is a never-ending list of ways we need to do more to be God’s agents in the world. As the news piles up – End Climate Change! Ceasefire now! Avoid a government shutdown! Let’s save our democracy! – the weight of it all becomes too much to bear. In the activist world, far too many friends and colleagues have suffered mental, physical, or spiritual exhaustion from this type of pressure. The problem with this theology, even if well-intentioned, is that it can breed a savior complex and mislead us into relying on our own limited wisdom and strength rather than constantly seeking to tap into God’s unlimited wisdom and strength.
On the other end of the spectrum, I saw Christians confronting exhaustion with the state of the world by completely disconnecting from politics and turning inward. After all, if we believe that God is in control and will make everything right in the end, why worry about anything, including the state of our politics or serious injustice? This approach echoes Essenes, a movement during Jesus’ time that sought to retreat from society to concentrate on its more communal and pietistic life. In 2024, it might look like Christians saying the Church “shouldn’t get involved in politics” or that we should just focus on caring for the soul. While these answers are tempting in a world where everything seems to be constantly on fire, the problem is that we eventually become “so heavenly that we are no earthly good,” as the adage goes. We cannot ignore that our Savior defied many religious and imperial powers of his day, actions which ultimately led to his crucifixion for the crime of sedition. Taking up our cross and following Jesus often requires sacrifice and courage to stand up to injustice.
Sometimes Scripture seems to embrace both views, even in the same passage. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus asks his listeners not to “worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself” (Matthew 6:25). Yet, a few verses later, Jesus tells the same disciples to “seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all things will be added to you.” So what is it ? Are we supposed to not worry too much or continue to seek God’s kingdom and righteousness here and now?
There are no easy answers to these timeless theological questions. A popular saying often attributed to Saint Ignatius attempts to resolve this theological standoff by dividing differences, ordering Christians to “pray as if everything depended on God and work as if everything depended on you.” But I believe there is a better way to follow Jesus in this exhausting world – a way that more accurately embodies the relationship between human beings and our Creator. Rather than simply “give it to God” or believe that God’s work can only happen through our efforts, I believe we are called to be co-creators alongside God, collaborating together to bring into being the new creation that is “on earth as it is in heaven.” For me and many of my colleagues at Sojourners, this fusion of faith-inspired activism for social justice with an inner life that values contemplation, self-knowledge, and a personal walk with God is the heart of our faith. We need both activism and contemplation to avoid the two extremes: a faith that causes burnout and says everything is up to us, or a faith that turns away from very painful suffering or injustice. real.
Guided by a spirituality rooted in both justice and contemplation, we can discern the work of kingdom building to which each of us is most called to do. To do this, we must take seriously the apostle Paul’s teaching that we are one body made up of “many parts” (1 Corinthians 12:12) and recognize that much of the work necessary for righteousness and the promotion of the common good will be best accomplished by others with different gifts. It also allows us to understand and honor our own limitations, both individually and collectively, helping us know the times when we have work to do or when we need to entrust the results entirely to God. For people on both extremes, it can be very liberating to discover and follow that middle path, which is ultimately nothing less than following the way of Jesus.
For those of you feeling completely burned out at the thought of another election year, I have three tips that have helped me combat burnout without disengaging from the world around me.
- First, learn recognize warning signs and know when to take a break and stay still. I found great comfort in a simple but meaningful prayer that Fr. Richard Rohr taught based on Psalm 46:10. You simply pray the words out loud, “Be still and know that I am God,” then take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Following the same speaking and breathing pattern, you repeat the phrase, omitting another word with each repetition: “Be still and know,” “Be still,” and finally “Be.” This prayer reminds me to be still and gives me space to remember that I am not God – nor should I try or need to be! There is deep consolation in recognizing this and then thinking more deeply about God’s attributes of omniscience, omnipotence, and unconditional love.
- Second, as we strive to care for ourselves and those around us, identify some constructive ways in which you feel called to get involved in this busy election season. Again, we are not called to do everything, but we are called to do something. This could include volunteering to become an election worker (which is desperately needed across the country), engaging in a voter registration drive, serving as a poll chaplain on Election Day Religions united to save democracyand more.
- Finally, we must accept Jesus’ command to love both our neighbors and our enemies, a commitment that has become increasingly countercultural. This is especially important given the amount of vitriol and anger people are already feeling. Like the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. preached, we must learn to find the image of God even in our enemies, seeking “only to defeat evil systems.” We need to be tough on evil systems, but we also need to show as much grace and empathy to people as possible.
Loving our enemies can start by simply praying for those who are your significant other or political opponent. I truly believe that our prayer life is a way to empower us to work for justice and righteousness. You can also get involved in efforts like “It starts with us”, which is building a movement of people committed to cultivating our innate capacity for curiosity and compassion, as well as our courage to overcome the forces that divide us.
Entering 2024, I came out of my own burnout by taking a real break over the Christmas holidays and starting the new year by refocusing my relationship with God. Through prayer and discernment, I gradually came to understand what God was calling me to focus on in 2024 – and the areas where I needed to honor my own limitations. While I know it’s not always easy or possible for everyone in the same way, I hope you can do the same.
