This article is part of America's series applying Ignatian principles to the election season.
How many people have said to you about the upcoming presidential elections, or politics in general, “I can’t stand it!” or “I’m so depressed!” or “I’m close to despair!” That goes for both Republicans and Democrats, for various reasons. Indeed, the past few years in U.S. politics have been the most contentious, vituperative and violent that I can recall. (My bona fides: my earliest political memory is President Lyndon Johnson telling a television audience that he would not seek re-election in 1968.)
The storming of the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, was perhaps the most visible and public outgrowth of these dark and violent tendencies. Many people worry that if there is a similar challenging of the election results and calls for “resistance,” the country will descend into chaos or even civil war. And if you are on social media at all, you will see that political “dialogue” has mainly been reduced to bitter recriminations and name-calling. At times despair seems like the most logical response.
But it would be, according to St. Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Jesuit Order, the least helpful response. So let me offer some Jesuit advice about how to combat despair.
In his classic manual on prayer, the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius invites us not only to enter prayerfully into the life of Jesus by imagining ourselves in various Gospel stories, but also to “discern the spirits.” That can sound bizarre to those who are unfamiliar with Christian spirituality, but it simply means that there are various forces, impulses or voices (I don’t mean hearing voices but rather voices within) that move us away from God and others that move us toward God. Moreover, St. Ignatius reminds us that the voice that is moving us toward God is coming from God. That is, God not only wants us to make good and life-giving decisions, but God will help us do that.
To take a simple example, imagine getting into a heated argument with someone at work or in your family or with a stranger in a public place. In the heat of the argument, you might say to yourself, “Oh, I want to punch this person in the face!” But another part of you thinks, “I need to calm down and try to make peace with this person.” One impulse is clearly coming from God and one is not. How do we know? Well, one easy way is to look at Jesus’ words and deeds in the Gospels. What do you think the person who said, “Blessed are the peacemakers” would want you to do? This is part of what it means to “discern the spirits.”
When it comes to despair, Ignatius is clear. It’s never coming from what he calls the “good spirit.” In fact, in the Spiritual Exercises he describes how the good spirit acts in the lives of good people (those trying to lead a good life). “It is characteristic of the good spirit,” he says, “to stir up courage and strength, consolations, tears, inspirations, and tranquility. He makes things easier and eliminates all obstacles, so that the person may move forward in doing good.” In other words, God’s voice gives you hope.
By contrast, what St. Ignatius calls the “evil spirit” or “enemy of human nature” acts in the opposite way for good people. “It is characteristic of the evil spirit to cause gnawing anxiety, to sadden and to set up obstacles. In this way he unsettles these persons by false reasons aimed at preventing their progress.” In other words, the evil spirit leads you to despair.
Before we go any further, let me say that this does not deny that life can be extremely difficult, that our political discourse might turn violent and that the election season may cause fear or even terror. What Ignatius (and many other spiritual writers) are saying is that despair is never coming from God. Why? Essentially because it denies God’s ability to act—and ours too.
In his book New Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton said that despair was actually a form of pride—that is, so “stiff necked” that it says, in essence, “I know that God can’t do anything with this situation.” Or “I know better than God.”
So how do you avoid despair during the election season, or any season? First by reminding yourself that this extreme form of hopelessness is not coming from God. Being able to identify those voices as moving you away from God is an essential step. Second, by not listening to the voices (from within or without) who say, “Nothing can be done.” Just say to yourself: “I don’t need to pay attention to that.” Third, by acting against it, that is, working against precisely what you fear—name-calling, divisive speech, violence—in whatever way you can.
Finally, in such situations, I find it helpful to think of the disciples on Good Friday and Holy Saturday, after the crucifixion but before the resurrection. Cowering behind closed doors, they were surely in despair, doubting that God could bring anything good after the shattering events on Calvary. And again, I’m not suggesting that there will suddenly be an Easter-like outbreak of unity, concord and love after Nov. 5, but it’s also important to see that the disciples in their despair were, in the end, wrong.
In short, despair is never coming from God. Hope always is. Choose hope.
Read more:
Tim Muldoon on praying the Examen during election season.
Quang D. Tran, S.J., on how parents can avoid passing election stress on to their children.
Joe Laramie, S.J., on cura personalis and making a mess before election night.
Chris Smith, S.J., on the presupposition and polarized family dynamics.
