I’m a huge fan of both Trevor Noah and Stephen Colbert. I admire them both as individuals, and their shows have provided needed laughter through all the craziness of the last several years. I’ve noticed a difference lately, though. Both shows have a progressive bent, of course, and both crack plenty of jokes at Republicans’ expense, but it feels like Colbert has made Republicans his comedic punching bag in a different way. Yes, the GOP arguably lost all credibility as soon as it followed Trump down the rabbit hole of, well, Trumpism, with its misinformation, lies, and conspiracy theories. But Colbert now reliably mocks Republicans at large. As a religious person, it reminds me of when people lump all of us into a caricature based on the worst possible traits exhibited by some in the category. It discourages me from bringing my authentic perspective as I feel pressured to either counteract the caricature, launch a spirited defense, or just be quiet and laugh along. It drives a wedge between people that ultimately can become a chasm.
Trevor Noah jokes, of course, but he also invites as guests conservatives that he deeply disagrees with and engages them in respectful dialogue on the show, including finding points of agreement. Recently he hosted Kellyanne Conway, as well as Rafael Mangual, the author of a new book arguing against the progressive movements for decarceration and defunding the police. Trevor Noah is building bridges.
If Trevor Noah and Kellyanne Conway can do it, so can we. And if you need a place to start, read We Need to Build: Fieldnotes for Diverse Democracy, a new book by Eboo Patel, Founder of Interfaith America. It is at once a rare tribute in these anti-institutional times to the importance of civic institutions, and a broad call to action relevant to an era of rapidly multiplying social movements. But unlike most calls to action these days, We Need to Build does not emotionally incite us to a particular political position or rally us behind a cause. It invites us to do the deep, sustained work of building the society we want.
Patel writes the last chapter as a letter to his sons. He advises them:
“...there are times to come as a warrior, with your fists up, ready for battle. But... if you come as a pilgrim and you point to a place where everyone can thrive, people will recognize the strength of your generosity, and they will join you, and we will all win.”
We will all win. What a beautiful thing that would be. Most days recently, it has felt like no one is winning. There are 8 billion people on this planet with 8 billion unique perspectives, 330 million in the U.S. alone. Yet our public conversations often make it seem as if there were only two possible perspectives, and at any given moment, one is either winning or losing in inverse proportion to the other. Who’s winning or losing shifts so rapidly, and the tactics used to win are often so depraved that winning hardly even feels like it anyway.
In the midst of our polarized politics, Patel guides us to a different path, one not about winning but about building. Notably, the skills needed to build look very different than those needed to win. As he illustratively points out in the story of his own journey from critic to builder: “I was so intent on critiquing the system that I hadn’t paused along the way to figure out how it actually worked.” Curiosity about how things work is a building prerequisite.
A builder also engages diversity. We can build trenches or even castles for our own tribes, but then we’re stuck defending them from inevitable attack rather than flourishing. Building has to start with bridges. In creating and growing Interfaith America, Patel has made bridge-building his life’s work, and the book provides a set of short primers on how to do exactly that, including “Embrace Diversity, Including the Differences You Don’t Like,” “Be Careful Turning Identity Categories into Ideological Categories,” “Welcome All Allies,” and “Be Cautious of the Single Story.”
Fortunately, the world has a lot more builders than we may realize because they're generally busy building rather than seeking attention. The loudest voices are often not the most representative. Patel's book highlights many builders, and spoiler alert, many are faith-rooted individuals and organizations, even religious institutions.
“At their best, religions are a network of institutions that seek to make real an inspiring vision that adherents believe was set forth by God, a vision that makes everyone sacred…. That is the power of religion and religious institutions. They guide and give hope, they cleanse and resurrect, they build and sustain.”
Of course, at their worst, religions can act as siloed tribes that traumatize, exclude, and engage beyond their own walls only to assert their righteousness. A lot of religion these days, though, falls somewhere in between, not traumatizing but not inspiring either, just succumbing to a lack of imagination.
The current moment calls upon our imagination and abilities as faith communities to build, something we have done throughout history as discussed in Patel’s book. Instead of setting our sights lower as we face the deep uncertainty of the changing landscape of religion, we should set them higher. How can our longstanding institutions keep building in new ways to multiply our witness and vision that everyone is sacred? How can we contribute our assets to building a stronger social fabric, a more just society, a healthier humanity, a more sustainable planet?
In a previous post, I shared the story of the Solidarity movement in Poland and the important building work it did underground during a time of political repression. During and since the Trump years, I admit to feeling that maybe it’s not the time to build, but rather to retreat to defense against all the forces of destruction. So much that we took for granted—democracy, rights, even facts—seems existentially threatened. It feels like a time to just hold the fort before we lose everything, to protest, to fight, to sit in our own trench with our own tribe and launch out our best moral outrage and critique. Then I think of the people of the Solidarity movement, as well as the civil rights movement in the U.S. and so many others that, in times more treacherous than this, had their fists up as necessary, yes, but also their hands to the ground, strategically building the institutions, opportunities, and bridges to realize a different vision than the status quo.
The work of building can never be put on hold because it is our path to a better future. We Need to Build points the way.
Author: Danielle Goldstone