When I awoke last Wednesday to the news that the Democratic Party had won majorities in both houses of Congress, as well as races for governorships and other offices, in decisive numbers (and with historic firsts!), I started to breathe a little easier. It helped that the elections were conducted smoothly, without much interference, and that President Trump is, for now, accepting the results. 

Americans, I hope, are finally experiencing a moral awakening and expressing a clear desire for a more just and kind political culture. But if there is anything I have learned from the past two years, living through the inhumane, corrupt and chaotic policies of this administration, it is this: The work of democracy is the work of building community. These elections are a piece of this work, not the end game.

Pope Leo XIV tells us in the first paragraph of “Magnifica Humanitas”: “Each generation inherits the task of shaping its own era, of guiding history to become a place where the dignity of every person is safeguarded, justice is promoted and fraternity is made possible.” I believe that we Americans have dropped the ball on this task.

By accepting the false reality of the logic of domination—in which flourishing is a zero-sum game—we have collectively succumbed to the allure of the culture of power, which leads us toward individualism, apathy and a tendency to dominate those we see as hindrances to our own progress. We have been like those building the tower of Babel, to use the pope’s metaphor in “Magnifica Humanitas.” We have followed leaders who, in Leo’s words, “sought to guarantee stability and power for themselves, and above all to ‘make a name’ for themselves” (No. 7). The result has been polarization, division, instability and violence. It has been “not unity, but dispersion.”

At the same time, Leo reminds us that “even in the darkest nights, the Lord raises up men and women who refuse to give up, who persevere in doing good, who protect the vulnerable and open pathways to reconciliation.” 

During the second Trump administration, when things have been very bleak for so many of us, there has been light in the care we have shown one another. People across the country have rejected partisanship to create communities of support and mutual flourishing. Neighbors have come together to share food, provide child care and offer financial support to those targeted by Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents. We have seen communities, victims of ill-advised economic and military policies, overcome isolation and division to care for one another.

Democracy flourished in this election because of these embodied acts of care and relationship-building. The election took on a more relational form for so many because the work of democracy was already shaping their experience.

I recognize that much of the shift in voting came from frustrations over gas and grocery prices—less an explicit moral indictment than an expression of economic frustration. But this frustration reveals the illusory nature of the idea that division and domination provide economic and social stability. We see this clearly, for example, in the relationship between the violence against the Iranian people and the increase in fuel prices. In reality, prosperity depends on diversity and mutual flourishing. We rise together.

Each of us is tasked with reflecting on our participation and motivations as we move forward. Are we, the church, living out the Christian call to serve as the light in the darkness? Are we offering a response to those questions that embodies the fullness of our faith and the infinite, incarnate love of Christ?

St. Augustine offers a helpful standard to ascertain whether we, the body of Christ, are on the right path. In his Expositions on the Psalms, he writes that to find out “if we are truly going” to the Lord’s house, “Each one of us must question himself about his attitude to the holy poor person, the needy brother or sister, the penurious beggar. Let each one check that his compassion is not too narrow.”

I hope we will continue to broaden the scope of our compassion, reaching out to one another and nurturing relationships through care. The richer our relationships and the more connected our communities are, the more equipped we will be to resist the culture of power that foments division and fear instead of love. 

We have a long way to go to ensure that human dignity is safeguarded and justice and fraternity reign. One election will not ameliorate the disillusionment and despair that have bred so much division and animosity. Yet it is heartening that the election results seem to reflect a growing recognition of the need to put aside partisanship in favor of the common good. We all share the responsibility of building a civilization of love that responds to the violence of this world with courage and healing, to suffering with care, and to corruption and lies with integrity. This, Leo tells us, “is an undertaking with God at the center, which rebuilds relationships before rebuilding with stones.” 

If a new generation of political leadership is to usher in such rebuilding, it will require a persevering commitment to strengthen the bonds of our communities. That means bolstering mutual aid networks, participating in nonviolence trainings and showing up to care for our neighbors in whatever ways we can, while remaining vigilant in holding our government accountable. The election is not the end; it is only another beginning. The results are worth celebrating, to be sure, but they should reinvigorate rather than placate our desire for a just society—a civilization of love.

Kathleen Bonnette works at the Center on Faith and Justice at Georgetown University, where she also teaches theology. She is the author of (R)evolutionary Hope: A Spirituality of Encounter and Engagement in an Evolving World (Wipf and Stock).