When they go low, we go high.

Michelle Obama’s words struck a chord when she spoke them in 2016 (although apparently she has modified or pulled back from them somewhat since then.) 

There was something hopeful, civil, honorable, principled, dare I even say “Christian” about her phrase. Something not unlike “turn the other cheek” or “love your enemies.” “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” 

Nine years later, I often see friends and colleagues, anti-MAGA Christians, expressing something similar. Well-intentioned social media posts about not resorting to meanness or pettiness or name calling. Not being reactive. Not firing back impulsively. Not returning hate for hate.

You’ve seen them too. Many of you have probably said or posted something similar. 

My point is not to criticize these gracious posts or the intentions behind them. Instead, it is to wonder about what they really mean. What does “going high” look and sound like in the concrete and specific? I’m not seeking any absolute purity or moral consistency, but only wondering how or if we can hold on to something like Michelle Obama’s hopeful call while also engaging with a vile man doing all kinds of evil.

In other words, I’ve had many friends and colleagues express something about trying to be Christ-like or civil. A few days or sometimes just hours later, they say or post things that might seem to be contrary to their original good intention. 

For a small sliver of Christians, “going high” would mean almost absolute silence, not unlike Jesus before Pilate–”he opened not his mouth.” This is non-resistance with no real concern about outcomes. Today, it could look like those friends who tell me that their role, at this juncture, is one of listening or tenderness or generosity. 

Another approach to “going high” would be Christians who advocate non-violence, presumably including bellicose language or combative social media posts, trusting this will eventually bring good results. This too is very much a minority position within the Christian community. While it might seem similar to non-resistance, it is significantly different. Typically it has a strategic element. It is concerned with outcomes–renouncing violence, but not necessarily renouncing power or winning. Going high will ultimately prevail. Evil will be overcome by good. 

But it is rather restrictive to assert that these two minority Christian approaches are the only ways for Christians of “going high.”  

A couple paragraphs ago, I called the president “a vile man doing all sorts of evil.” By doing so, have I gone low? 

Jesus called Herod Antipas a “fox.” He called some religious leaders “whitewashed graves” and the crowd around him a “wicked and perverse generation.” Saint Paul wrote that he wished his adversaries would castrate themselves. Personally, I especially like the use of humor to critique the MAGA regime. It feels harmless and humiliating at the same time. Poking fun and popping egos. 

Many friends–Christians, people that I respect deeply–have been far more caustic in their rhetoric. Again, my aim is to be curious, not judgmental. Do they believe their scorching language isn’t at odds with their statements about remaining calm and peaceable? Is there some invisible line or unspoken principle that tells us we have gone too far? 

Or maybe it is the difference between language and deeds. Scathing language is acceptable, but violent actions are not? Maybe “Speaking the truth in love” is relevant here. Love of? Nation? Democracy? Our neighbor? Yet we all know that fiery language fuels fiery deeds.

Or maybe, like all of us, they have their own contradictions, good intentions they’re unable to fulfill. “The good that I would, I do not.” 

Or maybe, they’ve concluded (somewhat like Michelle Obama) that the wickedness they face is so depraved, they’ve abandoned their earlier aspirations to “go high.” It simply won’t work. Fighting fire with fire is the only option now. 

How would you describe where you are at? I think I vacillate between them all. I’m simply not sure what it really looks like to overcome evil with good right now?

I wonder too if we haven’t quite fully absorbed the current situation. We’re still asking ourselves “Can this really last? Just how awful will it get?” We’re newbies, rookies in the resistance game. We haven’t yet seen or endured enough to become creative and courageous in truly costly ways. Ways like the Birmingham bus boycott, Tiananmen Square in 1989, Gandhi’s Salt March, the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, even the Boston Tea Party. We’re more adept at writing letters and sharing memes.

As I write, Marines are being sent to Los Angeles, supposedly to stop the so-called riots. What if, for example, lots and lots of white, middle class parents of young, blonde, blue-eyed children sent their kids to join the protesters? No doubt it could be extremely risky. Foolish, really.  But would the National Guard or Marines attack them in the same way that they might a bunch of “left wing scum and brown-skin radicals”? Who can say? And I’m certainly not suggesting this as a viable strategy or volunteering my grandchildren. They have brown eyes, BTW. 

I’m pointing to the uncertainty, our conflicted feelings, our still forming ideas about how to resist in ways that are effective and yet claim some bit of the moral high ground. In the here and now, how are we to be as shrewd as serpents and as innocent as doves?

And then, lastly, this. Are we naive to believe that being virtuous and “going high” can ultimately prevail? The wisdom of our parents, our junior high guidance counselors, and scout troop leaders, good folks all, told us that taking the high road, being decent and upright would eventually undo the bully, and conquer evil. It’s a nice, optimistic idea. We read about fairies and sugar plums, while others read Machiavelli.

Can we really hope that “going high when they go low” actually works? Or are we being guided more by modern notions of human progress than the Christian story? 

A nagging voice within wonders if the Christian story might instead tell us that the way to God’s glorious future came through death–actual death, not death as symbol or simile–and resurrection.