Now what?
Praying for a new president and a divided land.
There’s a great moment after the credits in Finding Nemo where the band of aquarium-captive fish that helped Nemo reunite with his father find themselves finally free of their captivity, floating in plastic baggies outside of Sydney Harbor. As they bob in the water, they take in their freedom. They did it. Then, they pause.
“Now what?”
I was holding off on writing this week’s newsletter until a winner in the 2020 presidential race had been declared. And, around noon today, the AP reported that Joe Biden had taken Pennsylvania’s 20 electoral votes, enough to secure his spot as president-elect, bringing an end not only to four of the most chaotic and tumultuous years our nation has endured, but also to five days of excruciating suspense.
I’ve seen several people online already describe feeling a major weight off their shoulders, and I can relate. It’s the relief that comes with knowing help is on the way, adults are about to enter the room. In two short months, so long as our country’s tradition of a peaceful transition of power holds, Donald Trump will no longer be president. The hatred, unnecessary dissension and ineptness that have filled the Oval Office since 2016 will be replaced, not by a perfect man, but at least by a normal one.
I’m thrilled by the results. I’m elated that there’s a return to sanity on the horizon. I’m encouraged that a majority of American voters finally decided that enough was enough and chose to tell a liar, bigot, adulterer and bully words he’d told others for so long: “You’re fired.”
But feel kind of numb, wondering just like those escaped fish in Finding Nemo, “now what?”
The truth is, President-elect Biden is going to step into a mess. We’re in the middle of the worst surge of the COVID-19 pandemic thus far; in Michigan, we’re seeing about 3,000 new cases a day. Millions of Americans are still unemployed. Racial strife isn’t going to disappear on Inauguration Day. And the election results tell us this was far from a decisive victory; about half of the voters still support Donald Trump and his policies, and they’re not just going to quietly sit back. There is still a lot of ugliness and fighting left to come, especially as Trump refuses to concede, threatens litigation, and will likely be more than happy to try and make as big of a mess as possible between now and January 20, 2021.
As I try to process this historic event, I’m surprised I feel subdued. And I feel like the prayer we needed in the days before the election is even more necessary in the days following.
I pray for President-elect Biden. He’s not a perfect man; for many people, including myself, he was far from the first choice for the Democratic Party’s nominee. In the days leading up to the election, he’s shown a compassion, humanity and dignity that is lacking in our politics, and I pray that it wasn’t all for show. I pray he’s granted wisdom and humility as he considers the weight of the office he’s about to step into, and that he will lead in a way that unifies and inspires. I also pray that he will be open to the voice of people who disagree him, with Americans who hold him accountable to lead with integrity.
I pray for people like me who have waited so long for the day when we could send Donald Trump packing. I truly believe an evil is being excised from office, and that the world will be better if Trump just fades quietly into obscurity (he won’t). But with that relief comes a temptation to gloat and to lavish the same derision and anger on people who disagree with us that Trump’s supporters have doled out over the years. I pray we’re kept from this temptation, that God grants me and others compassion and gentleness in our response to others, and that we realize that while an evil man has been defeated, we should still mourn the division that exists among the American people. I hope I’ll be self-aware enough to see my own tendency to brag and humiliate and to instead learn when to be quiet. I want to love the people who’ve hurt me; I don’t want to be a person who hurts others.
I pray for the people who didn’t vote for Joe Biden, who are right now likely frustrated, angered and maybe afraid. I hope there is healing done in the next four years, both along party lines but also in the families and friendships that have seen a rift as a result of this fighting. In some cases, political ideology (and political idolatry) have created unnecessary broken relationships. But in other cases, there have been legitimate hurts and disagreements as we’ve seen sides of friends and family members revealed that we never dreamed existed. Healing is a long road, and I have a feeling there are going to be long, painstaking conversations to not just bring peace but also progress.
I pray for a nation that has often felt rocked to a breaking point over the last four years. Indeed, there were many times I wondered whether our government could handle all the tumult. And that’s not going to go away. Our Senate and House of Representatives are still fairly evenly split, and Joe Biden’s not going to come in and put an end to partisan politics. I pray that first and foremost there is unity in formulating a plan to end the pandemic that has caused so much death and devastation. I pray that, where possible, bipartisan unity begins to be a greater priority and that we can see compromise become part of our political system again. And in those areas where disagreements cannot be avoided, I pray that our nation’s leaders and citizens remember the gift of civility and decorum, that we flee our echo chambers, and that we remember working together, not against each other, is the way toward progress.
And finally, my main prayer is for an American Church that is bleeding, wounded and sick. Political idolatry has crept in on both sides and caused division, strife and brokenness. It’s caused rifts within our congregations, and it’s also seriously hampered the Church’s ability to display the beauty and hope of Christ to a watching world. My prayer is that we rediscover our first love and remember that our first allegiance, as I’ve heard sung, is not to a flag, a country or a man, but to a king and a kingdom. And that we rediscover our great responsibility to love others, serve others, and put the needs of others before our own.
I’m hopeful that we’re turning a new page in American history. I pray that we’ll do so in a way that restores dignity, maturity and civility.
Just a note: No Digest this week. I took a computer break for a few days, so there are no reviews, and podcasts should resume next week.
Chricisisms
The pop culture I’m consuming
Hoping for Happiness by Barnabas Piper: If ever there was a book I needed this year, it was this. I’ve enjoyed Barnabas’ work over the last few years, both as the author of books like Help My Unbelief and his funny and often insightful commentary on “The Happy Rant” podcast. He is of course, the son of famous Reformed pastor and theologian John Piper, whose Desiring God was fundamental in my spiritual journey. Barnabas doesn’t delve as deep into theology and doctrine in this book, but rather uses Scripture to explore the elusiveness of happiness, the goodness of it, and the ways that “evangeliguilt” often causes Christians to feel like they don’t deserve it. It’s a quick casual read that packs helped to lift my spirits in a dark year. High recommend for anyone having a difficult time coping with 2020.
Gremlins: I’d hoped this Halloween season I’d be able to have time to show my son a bunch of entry-level scary movies. He’s 8, but really wanted to see something “scary.” I’m not about to pull out Texas Chain Saw Massacre like my dad tried (seriously), but I had King Kong, Godzilla and The Wolf Man all lined up. Then, life intruded and Mickey was gone pretty much every Friday. Finally, the night before Halloween, he demanded something “really scary.” I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle much, but I was about his age when I first saw Joe Dante’s 1984 horror-comedy, and thought it might be a good fit. And thankfully, he loved it. He screamed and tensed up in the right spots, laughed at all the others, although I think he was a bit confused late in the movie when it goes full Looney Tunes in places (although it’s nowhere as weird as it’s very good sequel). I hadn’t seen it in a few years, and really found myself impressed by how well Dante navigates tone here, modulating between Amblin’s trademark kid adventure, creature-feature horror, and zany comedy (there are quite a few shots of Gremlins chasing each other with mallets). It’s a fun movie, and it’s a joy to just sit back and take in all the weird quirks of the gremlins (this was the first time I’d caught the one at the movie theater who keeps asking for Milk Duds).
Scream: Another Halloween weekend view. It had been at least a decade since I’d watched Wes Craven’s 1996 slasher classic. Over time, I think I’d accepted that the film was basically all downhill after its first 15 minutes. And while that opening is fantastic, possibly the most suspenseful thing Craven ever directed, the entire movie works so well. If Halloween is the pure, undistilled start of the slasher genre, Scream is its logical endpoint (except that inferior slashers kept being released for a bit). The film only works if you have a knowledge of the genre, and then it upends our understanding of the rules in its last act. I think it’s the best work Craven’s done, and it’s helped by Kevin Williamson’s smart, lean script and possibly the best cast that a slasher movie was ever able to work with. The sequels each lose a bit of the power, but the original is fantastic.
The Social Network: I went down a Sorkin rabbit hole this week for a podcast episode you can hopefully hear in the coming weeks, so I’ll keep these entries short. But man, is this movie perfect. From that first scene, which sets the stage for every insecurity and petty rivalry Zuckerberg will have throughout the movie, Sorkin’s script is on fire and Fincher’s direction is focused. As a factual accounting of the formation of Facebook, it’s not a great reference, but it doesn’t need to be. This is a movie not about Mark Zuckerberg but about men like him, about brilliance, insecurity, resentment and entitlement, and it’s about the shifting of economic power from established, powerful families and the educated elite to the rowdiness and cutthroat nature of Silicon Valley. When I put together my list of the best of the last decade earlier this year, this wasn’t on it; it was a grave mistake.
Steve Jobs: I think this movie gets dinged because it came out as Sorkin’s script that immediately followed The Social Network. It follows a similar trajectory, watching a difficult genius who burned bridges as he built an empire, and Danny Boyle can’t quite reign in Sorkin’s voice the way Fincher can. The structure at times feels stagebound and the nature of having Jobs get into disagreements with the same people before three product launches gets a bit repetitive. But there are sequences here that are just dynamite, and Sorkin’s dialogue just rips, helped along by maybe the best cast assembled to read his words, including Michael Fassbender, Seth Rogen, Kate Winslet and Jeff Daniels. It’s a flawed bit of greatness.
A Few Good Men: Unbelievably, I’d never seen the film that broke Sorkin out. Based on his stage play, the 1992 Rob Reiner film has always been a blind spot that I’d hoped I’d get around to, but just hadn’t had the opportunity until now. Situating it in the middle of my Sorkin binge might have been a mistake, as it didn’t quite hit me as hard as the others. Tom Cruise, Demi Moore and Jack Nicholson all do superb work in the courtroom scenes, but Sorkin’s script doesn’t quite have his distinctive patter and rhythm down yet. Still, it’s an entertaining and enthralling bit of work, and that final showdown between Cruise and Nicholson is justifiably classic.
Moneyball: I’d slot this right between The Social Network and Steve Jobs in terms of quality. The script is distinctively Sorkin in that it relishes in smart people talking about complex things in a way that is still easy to follow, and it builds on the less idealistic, more grounded structure that Steven Zaillian laid when Steven Sodergergh was attached to direct (I’d still love to see his version of this). Brad Pitt gives one of his strongest performances and I love his banter with Jonah Hill. It’s a smart movie about the risk of being a trailblazer, and it gains emotional heft from Billy Beane’s insecurity and frustration with his own ball career. Bennett Miller, like Fincher, restrains some of Sorkin’s more idealistic tendencies and theatrical flourishes and ends the film on a note of melancholy rather than triumph. This is another great one.
The West Wing (Season 1, Episodes 1-3): As we were waiting for the election results to roll in, I decided to follow up my binge by finally watching this series on Netflix, which I’d only seen one or two episodes of. I’m pretty much hooked off the pat. The smart dialogue, the sarcastic banter, the drama with global stakes. This is the kind of TV I dig.
The Mandalorian (Season 2, Episodes 1-2): Disney+ has yet to fulfill its promise of delivering oodles of new content from the Star Wars and Marvel universes. We still have yet to see our first Marvel show, and we’re just now starting the second season of the only other big original fiction program the streamer has debuted. But you know what? I’ll take it. The Mandalorian is more interesting and fun than Star Wars has been in a long time. I love the episodic, leisurely pace. Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni are more interested in exploring the weird nooks and crannies of this universe than in drowning us in mythology, and for that I’m grateful. It’s great escapist television, proof that Star Wars is best when it plays around with genre; this week’s horror-tinged fight against ice spiders was particularly great. And Baby Yoda, last year’s breakout star, is wisely used sparingly; this week, a running gag of him eating alien eggs was both cute and darkly funny. I hope they keep this up.