AMAC Exclusive – By David P. Deavel
2024 peeks around the corner. What kind of resolutions ought we to make? The first mega-resolution is to have resolution itself. To what end? To conserving what is good in our own lives and the lives of our families, towns, states, and countries so that order, peace, and prosperity (not just the monetary kind) will prevail.
Black Pill or Red?
The need for resolution is itself one that some today would have us question. This skepticism is not, at least for conservatives, born of a conviction that everything is already going well, such that resolution is (happily) no longer required. Few on the right approach things in the style of Voltaire’s character Pangloss, who believed this “the best of all possible worlds.” In such a world, resolution would be unnecessary. To be a conservative of any sort is to acknowledge the imperfection of the world we live in and to disdain the myth of an unbroken progress in all spheres of life.
But there are not a few who are, in today’s slang, blackpilled. They see the enormous challenges to our country’s economy, law, politics, education, and culture, and assume all is lost. They’ll tell you the system is rigged, so there’s no point in fighting it. The best option is simply to retire to your own private concerns, stock some more ammo and ready-to-eat meals, and watch western civilization burn while sipping a nice adult beverage.
As a congenital Eeyore, I’m sympathetic to these doomers. In the glass is half-full/half-empty debate, I’m the guy who exasperatedly cries out, as one did in a Far Side cartoon, “Hey, I ordered a cheeseburger!” But the mark of mature American citizens (to coin a phrase) is to put the black pill away from us and instead take the red pill—the one that allows us to look our struggles in the eye, acknowledge them honestly, and face them with resolution.
Staying in the Fight
This is the American way. Over a year into the bloodiest conflict our country has known, Abraham Lincoln wrote to Quintin Campbell: “Adhere to your purpose and you will soon feel as well as you ever did. On the contrary, if you falter, and give up, you will lose the power of keeping any resolution, and will regret it all your life.”
We need to adhere to our purpose. Though Christians believe that their true citizenship is in heaven, that does not mean a disdain for the things of this world. One cannot be too heavenly minded to do any earthly good. Far from it. To be truly heavenly minded is to do as Scripture says and take care of this country even when it seems as though we are in uncharted territory. Jeremiah the Prophet preached the word of the Lord to his sixth-century B. C. Jewish brothers, exiled in Babylon, thus: “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare” (Jeremiah 29:7).
Livin’ on a Prayer and Hittin’ the Books
This, I think, gives us a clue to the first resolution we ought to make. Pray more and pray particularly for our country. Do we do it often enough? No doubt it is easy—and fun!—to complain about things and share bad news about our awful political class. But do we pray for these people? That they might themselves turn toward justice or be replaced? This was certainly a habit of the Founders, who called for days of prayer for our country and for those with responsibility.
Mention of the Bible and the Founders brings us a second resolution. We ought to be reading both. How much do we know of either? What do our kids and grandkids know of them? While not all of America’s Founders (as liberals and leftists love to remind us) were moral paragons or orthodox in their Christianity, they all were drinking from the well of both Scripture and the long Christian tradition of thinking about politics, freedom, and the common good. Knowing that broader Christian tradition is a good in itself. But part of that good is that it will allow us both to appreciate the Founders and think creatively about what we need to do in our day to seek the welfare of the earthly city and keep this grand American experiment alive.
Civic Leadership and Friendship
The Founders certainly didn’t think they were setting up a machine that runs itself. This realism brings us to a third resolution: to pick up again the habits of a self-governing people. Doing so certainly involves voting, but that cannot be the end of it. If the United States is in a crisis, then it is a time for all hands to be on deck. Groups such as AMAC provide perfect opportunities for action, particularly on the national level. But there are always more—particularly on the local level. The blackpilled tell you that nothing can be done. But think of the triumphs of parents and grandparents who have joined or petitioned school and town boards this year. We might say that too often evil triumphs when good men and women don’t attend board meetings. There is a great deal of power that is often there to be wielded; if those of us who are animated by a conservative and Christian vision of the common good don’t take it up, others will.
Such action can seem daunting, but that is where a fourth resolution comes in: keep up and build civic friendship. We need to be connected with those on the ground who are indeed working for the welfare of the earthly city. We need that connection in order to be of good cheer, gain strength, and prevail in the battles we have to fight. Ecclesiastes 4:12 says: “And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him. A threefold cord is not quickly broken.”
Courage is contagious. So is sanity. When we form our own threefold cords, there will be many who wanted to act, but were afraid to do it, who will stand up. There will also be many who finally face some of the difficulties that are in front of them and determine that they need to take a stand. Rather than lament how long they took to act or think, let us invite them in and make the circle of civic friendship broader and stronger.
2024 will no doubt bring to us adversity and trials along with obvious blessings. But that adversity and those trials can themselves be to our good if we will face them with the prayer, study, action, and friendship that are the hallmarks of American life. And whatever the chances of our success, let us stand firm. Twenty-three years before he wrote to Quintin Campbell, Lincoln spoke in the Illinois House of Representatives about a bill before that body. His words should be ours: “The probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just; it shall not deter me.”
David P. Deavel teaches at the University of St. Thomas in Houston, Texas, and is a Senior Contributor at The Imaginative Conservative. Follow him on X @davidpdeavel
