Perhaps one of the loneliest experiences in the life of faith is when our pain—be it personal or collective—is glossed over or never named. Everyone seems to have a story about a tragic event that transpired: Catholic clergy sexual abuse, a school shooting, police brutality against a minority group or the activists who stand in solidarity with them—and the inadequate response that followed. In moments like these, the silence can be deafening. 

And then there are other scenarios, like in the wake of a presidential election, when threading the needle between people’s hopes and fears for an incoming administration can prove exceedingly difficult for a preacher. That’s exactly what Bishop Mariann Budde of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington faced at the January 2025 interfaith prayer service at the National Cathedral following Donald J. Trump’s second presidential inauguration. Bishop Budde shares her experience on “The Spiritual Life with Fr. James Martin, S.J.” podcast. 

In many ways, Bishop Budde’s homily was a direct reflection of the Gospel’s clarion call to care for the migrant and marginalized. “In terms of the content,” Bishop Budde explained, “particularly the call for mercy, that would be not only not unique to me, but not unique to many of my colleagues who would say much the same thing on any given Sunday.” 

Of course, preaching the Gospel can be a political act. It certainly was for Jesus. And preachers must, as Bishop Budde puts it, “gently lift the things that are challenging and difficult because they’re true.” At the same time, Bishop Budde recognizes that preachers must avoid slipping into highly polemicized, partisan trappings and thereby further alienate members of their congregation.

But what about those of us in the pews? I think there are at least two temptations we face here. The first is expecting our faith leaders not just to proclaim the Gospel but to effectively transform the pulpit into a political soapbox. While I doubt many of us would admit to this, we want to hear our own religious and political viewpoints echoed in church. A good litmus test for whether you’re leaning in this direction is to attend church with someone who votes differently than you do and ask how they heard the homily after the service. 

The second temptation is to focus so much on our own personal struggles—our sickness, grief, conflict or frustrations—that we refuse to concern ourselves with the struggles of any other marginalized group. Or worse, we label those homilies “too political” without recognizing Jesus’ unequivocal command to care for the hungry and sick, the stranger and the imprisoned (Mt 25:35-36). 

So often we become fixated on how our spiritual leaders are navigating political, personal and public matters that we forget we have our own challenges in prayer. 

So what are some ways we can find balance in our spiritual lives? How can we care for the needs of others without reducing our faith to a political platform or even ignoring the pressing needs in our lives? And how can we ask God for what we truly need, without neglecting those Jesus entrusted to our care?

Here are a few suggestions from Father Jim: 

Balance is essential. And to me that balance means a mix of action and contemplation. We all tend to speak before thinking and act before discerning. So some prayer helps us to connect with God deep within—and to even just take a break. Balance is important also in the political world. We can’t overlook those in need, and have to act politically, but we also can’t align ourselves 100 percent with one political party or candidate: No one party or candidate perfectly aligns with all the Gospel values. And balance is important in prayer itself: We can ask God for what we need, but it can’t be about us all the time. So balance is a real virtue. You might say that an unbalanced life is not worth living!

Maggi Van Dorn is the Senior Audio Producer for America Media.