Republished with permission from John Pavlovitz
Donald Trump is absolutely right about us: we are the enemy within.
We are the enemy within homes and family holiday gatherings, filled with people we once loved and respected; older relatives who, when growing up, told us to be good people and to live with honesty and decency, who taught us to stand up to the bullies and to make sure no one was abused for being different. We are there to make them accountable for betraying every lesson they ever taught us then, by now partnering with someone who embodies the very vicious, broken person they warned us not to become or abide.
We are the enemy within neighborhoods adorned with the yard signs and flags declaring our neighbors’ alignment with racism, with hatred, with violence, and expecting it to go unopposed. We are there to lovingly but defiantly remind them that they are in close proximity to someone who is not afraid to live unapologetically for what they believe, to challenge the greed that would turn its head from bigotry in the name of accruing wealth, and to declare that we refuse to live in a place defined by exclusion and separation.
We are the enemy within misguided churches and around morally confused professed followers of Jesus, who have fully betrayed the loving, generous, compassionate heart of their namesake and chosen to inexplicably stand with the full antithesis of his teachings, the very embodiment of evil. We are here as flawed but fierce prophets to testify to their bastardized religion that refuses to love its neighbor, that will not welcome the stranger, and that preys upon the poor and the vulnerable. We are here to boldly speak a truth that sets captive people free.
We are the enemy within a fractured and exhausted nation that has been so polluted by his continually toxic sludge of fear, dehumanization, and irrational phobia, that a substantial portion of it would gladly allow it to become unrecognizable to its founders; who would demolish every elemental personal liberty, every systemic protection for people and the planet, every guardrail against authoritarianism. We are here as Americans who will not stand for the very kind of vengeful fascist that our people and our nation have sacrificed and fought and bled and died defending the world from.
In this moment of such great consequence, we are here in our homes and our neighborhoods and our churches and this nation, to make sure that diversity is championed, that oppressed people are defended, that fiction is not accepted as truth, that democracy is preserved, that freedom is not sacrificed on the altar of fear.
We are here as allies of hope and joy and love—and that makes us adversaries to him, opposition to his seething disciples, and obstacles to his fever dreams of domination and retribution.
We are here as steadfast warriors for the common good, forcefully planting the flag for humanity in this small sliver of space and time and making this the hill we will live and die upon.
And all of us: the mighty and massive assembly here, we will be the enemy within the voting booth, too, letting our collective wills resound with one singular, undeniable, deafening voice that will declare once and for all, that the long nightmare is coming to a close—and that glorious dawn is coming soon.
John Pavlovitz
John Pavlovitz is a writer, pastor, and activist from Wake Forest, North Carolina. A 25-year veteran in the trenches of local church ministry, John is committed to equality, diversity, and justice—both inside and outside faith communities. When not actively working for a more compassionate planet, John enjoys spending time with his family, exercising, cooking, and having time in nature. He is the author of A Bigger Table, Hope and Other Superpowers, Low, and Stuff That Needs to Be Said.