As I’ve grown older, I’ve recognized the same power struggles that once played out around my dinner table appearing in communities, headlines and in international politics—with much more at stake. But being surrounded by a constant stream of political conflict, I gradually found myself responding with indifference. I felt numbed to the military conflict with Iran, just as I had become numb to the suffering of Ukrainians. It’s possible to avoid the large-scale political warfare between Democrats and Republicans, but even the conversations between neighbors and friends turn into arguments. I feel pressure to be as passionate about politics as they are, but not at the cost of contention.

Upon reflection, I realized that what I wanted was the wisdom to understand the politics of peacemaking.

Finding Peace in a Divided World

I turned to religious teachings to learn about politics. I found that from Genesis to Revelation, hundreds of Bible verses contrast approaches that resemble both power politics and peace politics. Power politics pursue stability through centralized authority, pressure, or force, often motivated by fear or ambition. Scriptural examples include Pharaoh’s responses to Moses in Exodus and the rioters of Ephesus denouncing Christian converts in Acts 19. A contrasting method, referred to as peace politics, pursues stability through expanded trust networks and responsibilities. And it was this approach that earned Joseph, Mordecai, and Daniel hard-to-come-by leadership roles in foreign kingdoms, all of which resulted in flourishing. Throughout scripture, the warning that people’s devotions tend to power politics more than peace politics is repeated.

Scripture repeatedly invites us to recognize political ambitions for power like these.

Expectations of How Peace Can Be Achieved

When Jesus rode down the Mount of Olives, throngs gathered. His triumphal entry was the prophesied return of the King to the “city of peace,” or Jerusalem. But many of those shouting praise to Christ expected a restoration of David’s throne and national independence. No more Roman rule. No more Sanhedrin corruption. For those people, this event may as well  have been a political rally.

Many in Jerusalem had hoped that the Messiah would bring safety and security, but were not expecting the peaceful politics of a homecoming celebration. So, they may have been puzzled when the young rabbi went to the temple to share wisdom proverbs, rather than to proclaim. After all the hype, some hearing sermons may have thought, “We got the wrong candidate. Our leaders must be right.” To follow or to revile Jesus became a political choice, with one’s own reputation at stake. Many people remained aligned with local politicians, rather than with the King of the Universe.

What about my own allegiances? As I reflected on the crowds who welcomed Jesus, I realized that my own response to politics was not much wiser. Rather than becoming consumed by political conflict, I often withdrew from it altogether. My own apathy came from the comfort of self-interest, ignoring the needs of others. In that sense, I was one of the multitudes. So, what is the wiser option?

Peace Politics in Scripture

In each of these cases, reconciliation and progress were achieved by prioritizing people over power. Thus, from ancient prophets to modern ones, the message is clear, offering a political rule by people-first policies. So, in our own days of political warfare, how will we take on the role of peacemakers and really make peace?

Learning to Recognize Abundance at the Table

First and foremost, peacemakers learn to celebrate the good around them. Power politics condition us to focus on what we lack and who is to blame, making us vulnerable to manipulation and creating a false sense of scarcity. One Biblical metaphor aligning with the ideals of peace politics is a marriage feast, or a celebratory gathering. Even when someone else at the table hands us something undercooked, bland, or even painfully spicy, it does not end the meal, let alone the relationship. Abundant grace is the good news of peace politics. Rather than manipulating us through fear, it invites us to trust that there is enough goodness, mercy, and fellowship to share.

Peace politics begins from a different assumption. Like a family meal, it is not a contest but a shared experience, one that balances fairness with generosity and makes room for imperfect people to belong together. This approach simultaneously enforces fairness while repairing the realities of injustice. Today, when political parties of all kinds engage in the same tactics that I inflicted on my own brothers, I understand the tendency to develop a scarcity mindset. But we must recognize that what we all want is the wisdom to live with one another in abundant goodwill. 

Seeing People Clearly

Second, peace politics requires continual self-correction. We practice peace in daily interactions through balancing extremes, taking positive action, and learning from everyone. Power politics thrives on extreme and opposite impulses, discouraging reflection, and rewarding us for remaining in echo chambers. One sign that power politics is at work is a decrease in our ability to see people as individuals and begin treating entire groups as enemies. It becomes easy to blame whole populations for the actions of leaders or governments. In one recent example, a post incorrectly blames Jews for the conflict with Iran. While the Israeli armed forces entered battle, “the Jews” did not. Peace politics resists this temptation, preventing us from slipping into “othering” mindsets that lead to antisemitism, hate, and sweeping judgement. The Prince of Peace taught that doing good matters even when its effects seem small. He invites us to love people we do not fully understand, to learn from those whose experiences differ from our own, and to become one by recognizing our shared humanity. 

Through Christ, peace will ultimately prevail. And in many ways, it already is. Adopting this perspective has replaced my numbness with volunteer projects, interfaith friendships, and causes that are truly good for me, all nourishing me deeply.

With knowledge of the end from the beginning, biblical and modern prophets wisely describe the principles of peace. They urge us to replace power politics with a more direct path to peace, working together and simultaneously living by the rules while repairing the injustices. When we wisely adopt their prophetic vision, peace will follow. We stop quarreling at the table and learn instead to enjoy the feast. Abundant grace is not merely “good for us,” but delightful. Pass the plate, please.

The post The Politics of the Feast appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

Much has been written about how fractured our public discourse has become, and calls for civility are growing louder. 

But civility alone isn’t enough. 

Christlike communication isn’t just about being polite; it’s about being present, peace-seeking, and passionate in love. The Savior’s example invites something deeper than niceness: it asks for genuine connection.

We can strengthen our relationships with one another through small, intentional changes in how we communicate, especially as we strive to do so in more Christlike ways. The Savior always rooted His communication in love. Several principles stand out in the way He communicated: His emphasis on people and being present with them, His method of peacemaking, and His passionate approach to ministry.

The Savior Put People First

Christ centered His entire ministry on people. He loved and lifted those around Him. He taught us to “strengthen your brethren [and sisters] in all your conversation, in all your prayers, in all your exhortations, and in all your doings.”

People who exercised faith in the Savior left His presence feeling uplifted, hopeful, and loved. Because He was secure in who He was and in His divine mission, He was focused on building others up instead of tearing them down. He reached out to those on the margins—lepers, the sick, sinners, the poor, and those considered outsiders. He crossed social and cultural boundaries to love and include others. He didn’t just teach that everyone mattered; He showed it by who He chose to spend time with, eat with, and defend.

The Savior met people where they were. He wept with those who mourned. He felt compassion for the multitudes. He rejoiced in repentance, teaching parables like the prodigal son, where the son was met with joy rather than shame when he returned home.

Jesus never ignored sin or injustice, but He often addressed them in ways that lifted people up. Even when rebukes were used, love came first, and His love changed hearts.

President Thomas S. Monson, former president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, taught us to emulate the Savior when he said, “Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved.”

The Savior showed that when love is primary, healing can occur—but when problems take precedence, people can be overlooked. That is the pattern He sets for us: loving and including others is not something we do after problems are resolved—it is the beginning.

The Savior Was Present

One important way the Savior showed His love for people was by being fully present.

In 3 Nephi, the resurrected Christ invited the people to come forward one by one to feel the wound marks in His hands and feet. The record tells us there were about 2,500 people present—men, women, and children. And yet, there was no rushing. Each person had a personal, individual moment with the Savior.

That detail has always felt quietly powerful to me. He was fully present.

Brother Randall L. Ridd, former second counselor in the Young Men General Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ, taught the adage, “Be where you are when you are there. … When you are with friends, give them the gift of your attention.”

Years ago, I worked with a wonderful woman named Kate. We started walking together on our lunch breaks and became close friends. She was intelligent, fun, and had a fresh take on life. I always gleaned a lot from our conversations. 

Kate was a member of another faith. You can imagine my excitement when she came to work one day and said, “Jenny! Two tall, painfully skinny Mormon missionaries came to my door this weekend.” 

I exclaimed, “Well, did you let them in? Did you talk to them?”

“Well, no,” she said matter-of-factly. “If I’m gonna do the Mormon thing, I’m gonna go through you so you get the commission!”

I’ve thought about this friendship and what made it so successful many times throughout my life. I’ve concluded that it was because we were wholly present with each other. Smartphones weren’t a thing yet. We were not distracted in our communication.

I finally asked her why and how she keeps her phone away because, sadly, it’s become acceptable to always be checking our phones and responding to texts. I am fully guilty of this. She smiled and said, “Oh, when I get home, I’ll be back on my phone working. But right now, I’m with you.”

When we are with people, we can show Christlike love by giving them our attention.

With three teenagers, I hear a lot of conversations among teens, including these sentiments: 

• “It’s not fun to be around so-and-so because they’re always on their phone.” 
• “I want to invite them, but I’m worried they don’t really want to hang out with me, because they’re always on their phone when I’m with them.” 

Our actions send messages of love or disinterest, whether we intend them to or not.

President Bonnie H. Cordon, former Young Women General President of The Church of Jesus Christ, warned, “One of Satan’s most powerful weapons is to distract us with good and better causes which, in times of need, may blind and bind us away from the best cause—the very work that called us into this world.”

The best cause is twofold: coming closer to Christ and lovingly helping others grow closer to Him. And sometimes—oftentimes—that means putting our phones away.

Being present may look like silencing our phones and putting them out of sight during lessons, meetings, conversations, and meals, unless we’re using our phones for the lesson to access our scriptures. It might mean not taking our phones to the dinner table. Essentially, it is choosing people over screens. These small choices signal love, respect, and consideration for others. They also show self-awareness and empathy, recognizing that others might feel frustrated when we’re distracted while they’re trying to talk to us. 

People over phones. Most of the time, the phone can wait. If it’s an emergency, we can politely excuse ourselves. Sometimes we have a five- or 10-minute window with a person—or less. How do we want to leave them feeling? 

Even our Heavenly Father, who hears countless prayers a day—millions if not billions—is 100 percent attentive when we speak to Him. We are never competing for His attention. 

We will greatly bless our relationships if we offer one another even a portion of that same care.

The Savior Was a Peacemaker

Another defining aspect of Christlike communication is peacemaking.

Peacemakers distinguish themselves by their ability to truly listen, especially when opinions differ. And this kind of listening goes beyond simply hearing words. It involves listening with our eyes through careful observation and with our hearts through empathy and understanding.

When Jesus healed the woman with the issue of blood, He possessed such keen awareness that He recognized the difference between her touch—filled with longing and faith—and the ordinary physical contact of the crowd pressing around Him.

This kind of active listening isn’t about hearing just enough to craft a response. It’s a higher form of listening: deeper, more intentional. It creates space for discernment and genuine understanding.

Of course, we are mortal. We all have moments when our listening and peacemaking skills might not be bringing home gold medals. In these moments, there is great power in the repair.

A story from the Ensign beautifully illustrates this. Mary, a tired young mom, decided to can peaches. She reached the stage where the filled jars needed to boil. She decided she’d catch a nap while she waited, because surely she would wake up in time. (This sounds like something I would do!)

She writes, “As I cleaned, a familiar voice whispered to me: ‘Mary, when your temper explodes, as did these jars, you cannot easily fix things. You cannot see where and how your anger hurts your children and others. Like this mess, that hurt hardens quickly and is painful.’”

Relatedly, President Russell M. Nelson, former president of The Church of Jesus Christ, taught about avoiding shards. He said, “I hope that you will look deeply into your own heart to see if there are shards of pride or jealousy that prevent you from becoming a peacemaker.”

We see the difference that a heart free from shards makes in moments of sudden stress. When a friend and her sister were recently rear-ended while stopped at a red light, my friend felt her anger boiling. Her sister, who was seated in the passenger seat next to her, gently put her hand on her leg and said, “They didn’t mean to.”

Peacemaking begins with humility—the willingness to listen, to understand, to apologize when needed. And if we’re on the receiving end of contention, there is power in giving a soft answer to avoid escalating the contention. 

The Spirit can enhance our thinking and our ability to communicate our thoughts and ideas, bring knowledge to our remembrance, and help bring out the best in us. It can inspire and guide us in our words and actions. Nothing—certainly not contention—is worth the cost of losing that sacred companionship.

The Savior Was Passionate about the Truth

Another aspect of Christlike communication is passionately standing for truth with great love. When we hear the word “passion,” we may think of arguments, heated debates, or strong opinions. But Christlike passion looks very different. It isn’t harsh, reactive, defensive, or self-centered. Instead, it embodies the balance the prophet Mormon described: lovingly “speak[ing] with boldness” about the truth, “for perfect love casteth out all fear.” 

Jesus was not passive. Christlike passion is love that acts when truth or souls matter. The Savior didn’t speak carelessly. He spoke deliberately, because He cared. And His words carried power because they were filled with eternal purpose. Christlike passion isn’t about raising our voices—it’s about raising our love as we communicate truth. 

One powerful example from Christ’s ministry is the woman taken in adultery. Surrounded by accusation and shame, Christ responded by exposing the hypocrisy of the accusers, saying, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” 

One by one, the accusers left. Jesus then created safety before offering correction:

He said, “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.”

In one sentence, He extended mercy while inviting change.

The word passion comes from the Late Latin word passio, meaning to suffer or endure. The Savior’s passion was His willingness to remain loving and obedient, even when that love required unfathomable suffering.

This kind of love leads naturally to what today we call being an upstander. As the name suggests, an upstander is someone willing to stand up and offer help, advocacy, or protection in the face of mistreatment, injustice, and bullying. It’s someone who refuses to be passive in the face of harm. Someone who’s willing to do the right thing even when it’s unpopular, uncomfortable, or might draw social criticism. 

A bystander observes. An upstander notices and acts.

An upstander is a lot like a shepherd, while a bystander is a lot like a hireling. As Elder James E. Talmage wrote, “While the shepherd is ready to fight in defense of his own, and if necessary even imperil his life for his sheep, the hireling flees when the wolf approaches, leaving the way open for the ravening beast to scatter, rend, and kill.” 

Christ stood against harm and stood with those who were most vulnerable. He also noticed those who were isolated, mocked, or alone—and He made room for them. This is passion in its most loving form.

We see this modern-day courage in the story of a popular high school football player who made sure that a young woman with disabilities felt loved and protected. As told by the young woman’s mom: 

I have a daughter with some disabilities that made her seem uncool in high school. She had a crush on a very popular football player and wanted to ask him to the Sweetheart’s dance. I was so nervous about the idea and actually tried to dissuade her, thinking she would be made fun of, or that he would say no. He found out she wanted to ask him because she texted him for his address, and he spread the word to make sure no other girls asked him before she had the chance to ask first. 

He went with her to the dance and treated her like gold. My other daughter was also in the group, so I got details of the whole night. He was so kind, carried conversation, stayed with her the whole dance, and made sure she had the best time. This boy changed my daughter’s entire high school experience through this one date. I was so thankful this boy could look past being cool or popular and focus on being kind and truly inclusive.

This is what we need in the world. This young man not only made a difference for that young woman, but he showed the young men around him that it’s cool to do the right thing, the kind thing, the inclusive thing. That is an upstander. That is Christlike passion and courage.

Becoming Christlike Communicators 

Becoming a Christlike communicator takes a lot more work than merely being civil. But the fruits of Christlike communication are much greater than what mere civility can produce. 

Often, it’s not grand gestures, but simple acts that help people feel loved and seen. It’s in the way we communicate—both verbally and nonverbally.

Nelson taught, “One of the easiest ways to identify a true follower of Jesus Christ is how compassionately that person treats other people.” It doesn’t matter how educated, talented, wealthy, or popular we are—how we treat people speaks to who we are. 

Christlike communicators don’t have to seek the spotlight. They notice the person on the edges, and they bring them in. They pull up a chair. Ask a question. Make introductions. They build a bridge to create a space that wasn’t there before. They are inclusive, even if that means thinking outside the box or giving up comfort or familiarity. 

The Savior taught, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

Christlike communication is putting people first. Choosing peace over pride. Speaking with love, even when it costs us. Putting down our phones to let people know that they matter more than a device. When we love and communicate as He did, we strengthen our relationships, and those around us feel His love more fully. 

The post Beyond Civility appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

I never expected a five-dollar bill to prompt an existential crisis. 

As I found Honest Abe half-buried among the fallen leaves, I wondered: do I leave it here to be raked up with the crunched leaves, turn it into a non-existent lost and found, or take it and pay it forward?

Grappling with this dilemma raised a larger question: How do we assign value?

Walking in the dark on a late autumn day, I left the heft of the fiver in my pocket. Its weight brought back a memory of teaching friends in inner-city America as a missionary. 

While I was visiting with a local church leader in his home, he taught the value of the Restored gospel with a dramatic flair. He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, ripped it in half, and tossed it into the air, drifting in slow motion to the ground in two. The teenage children were stunned, their eyes bulging as they couldn’t comprehend the sum of money being ripped like paper.

How could we each interpret the same substance to have such different worth?

Every day, Americans clash over what must be valued, and how strongly we prioritize it: education, religious freedom, family roles, economic opportunity, national identity, public safety. Some issues demand our permanent attention; others are negotiable. Matters that are permanent to one person may be flexible for another.

The problem is not that we disagree on the relative value of issues. The danger is our assumption that our ranking of values is the only reasonable or just one, and those who rank them differently must be immoral, uninformed, or evil. 

This assumption we all make is tearing our country apart.

I find it helpful to distinguish between two categories of values:

1. Core values—those central to who we are. Faith, family, and the freedom of conscience. Values that we cannot trade away or redefine. These embody eternal truths, and moral commitments.
2. Relative values—those that necessitate balancing and compromise. Public policy, education curricula, economic tradeoffs, and development. 

Reasonable people can, and do, evaluate both of these categories differently based on their unique culture, experience, and philosophy.

When we are unwilling to compromise on our relative values, or when we insist that others compromise their core values, political conflict can become unnecessarily divisive. 

When this occurs, compromise becomes impossible, and contempt is unavoidable. Healing is found as we “draw attention away from the biases of partisan politics,” as the Dignity Index suggests.

Distinguishing between our core and relative values changes how we manage disagreement. It doesn’t mean wavering our convictions, but understanding that others may assign values differently for reasons unknown to us. 

The path to national healing begins with something as small yet profound as “[living] in a way that’s in harmony with our core values.”

Accepting this invites us to approach the public square in humility: What is the value of this issue for my fellow Americans? What are its costs? Is it symbolic for others, and just pragmatic for me?

Answering these questions—the questions of value—is at the heart of enjoying a pluralistic society. This allows for relationships with those across the political spectrum. As Bruce C. Hafen, a former general authority of The Church of Jesus Christ, explained, “value-generating and value-maintaining associations … teach and foster the greatest fullness of life.” 

Holding that five-dollar bill, I realized that value itself is a moral obligation. Our everyday actions show how we assign value in our treatment of individuals with differing priorities. To strengthen our communities, we can stand for core values and collaborate on relative ones. We can “[find] a way to disagree that moves us toward solutions rather than deepening divides.”

So, the next time you pick up a fiver or think of Honest Abe, reflect on your hierarchy of values. Which are core values? Which are negotiable? How can you offer others the same dignity you demand for yourself?

The post What a Lost Five-Dollar Bill Taught Me appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

This article is part of a four‑part series that draws from insights in our forthcoming book, Exemplary, Strong Black Marriages & Families (Routledge, in press).

Research on family stress indicates that many African American families face racism and systemic stressors. These families susceptible to the cumulative burdens of stress spillover—defined as profound stress in one area of life “spilling over” and leading to poor outcomes in other domains.

In this article, we take an in-depth look at 46 strong, exemplary religious African American families to determine what actions and attitudes helped these families be optimistic about life and cope with racism and other hardships. These married couples and families were referred by their respective clergy as among the strongest and most faithful families in their congregations. This approach is consistent with “exemplar research,” where researchers study participants who embody the characteristic under study in an exceptional manner.

It has taken our American Families of Faith research team more than two decades of dedicated interviewing, transcribing, and coding to gather the strong choir of 97 rich voices behind this study of Black families. Our efforts have taken us to living rooms from Wisconsin to Louisiana, from California to Delaware, and from Oregon to Georgia. We have written elsewhere regarding the exemplary Black families of faith that we have interviewed:

For these families, the United States is not a “post-race” nation. Poverty, often deep poverty, as well as unemployment, inadequate educational opportunities, discrimination, incarceration, and many other social ills are far too familiar to them and their loved ones. Further, these marriage-based families are often the first to receive “knocks of need”—requests for money, help, and even temporary housing—from the less fortunate who surround them. Their lived religion is not a sanitized, upper middle-class spirituality, it is a desperate, deep, and pleading faith of survival that—even [in 2026]—still contains echoes of the mournful notes of the shame of American slavery. Theirs is not merely a faith that enriches or adds meaning to life. Their faith is often life itself. While few can claim to envy the plight of one of the most discriminated groups in U.S. history, we do envy the profound depth of their living faith in a God that reportedly hears and sustains them through profound challenges—challenges that … are ever present for most of these families.

These exemplary Black families have taught us much. For the balance of this article, we will share their voices and their words regarding their central sources of strength in dealing with life’s challenges, including their experiences with racism and discrimination. Gwen, a Baptist wife, said:

[Racism is] just one of those things where, yes, you will encounter it, and I know I will until Jesus comes and gets me out of here. But until then, it’s like, I have to realize that they’re the ones with the problem. I can’t become bitter about it or anything because God is not going to put up with that. … So, I have to just rest in the Lord on that one. … It’s tough, it hurts, but… I know it’s gonna hurt more for them than for me [at judgment day]. 

Many participants exemplified resilience in their responses to racism. Joelle, a Baptist wife, explained:

[I experience racism] every day, pretty much. … I used to be a manager at a [J.C. Penney]. They had a big controversy going, so they called for the manager and [when] I got there the white people were so mad. They didn’t know what to do. ’Cause here was [a] Black woman [who] is going to make a final decision. … To me, it’s not personal, it’s their ignorance. I have never doubted who I am or how important I am and how much I deserve to be on this earth. … So, to me, I’m perfected in Him because [God] thought of my color. … He [chose] it.

Orlando, a nondenominational Christian husband, said: 

Being a Black man, I can always recognize racism in full panoramic view. … If I were to allow the world to tell me how I was supposed to act, then I would have came home [and] I would have kicked the dog, I would have argued with my wife, I would have pulled out my belt, and I would have came home and beat my kids, and I’d have hit holes in the wall—but I wasn’t going to let society dictate how I was going to respond to situations. Because … society tries to write a script … [about what] certain racist behavior is supposed to trigger. And that’s where I hold on to God—because I know God gives me peace. And through God’s peace and through God’s love, I am able to just pray for that person who tries to make me unhappy, because they’re more unhappy than I am … if they feel they need to mistreat me to make themselves feel good. … [I am] trying to tell my children, ‘People are going to put things in your way. It’s not what they do to you, it’s how you respond to it.’ So, I try to set the example—not to respond to it [and not to get] to where I feel like I’m powerless. … No. You can’t go there. I can’t go there. 

Dean, a Catholic husband, spoke of empowering the next generation. A central part of his message to combat racism was to focus on self-worth. He said:

All the kids I come across, I be talking to them: ‘Don’t you ever take no back seat to nobody. God created one yellow flower better than the red one? [No!]. He created them all equal. … Try to have some vision in yourself.’ … I can say that I encounter [racism] daily in some form or some fashion. [It] has to do with arrogance: somebody thinks they are one up on somebody, [but] they really aren’t up on nobody. … It doesn’t affect us negatively ’cause … when you understand who you are inside spiritually, then no external forces, no crap, is going to make you all the sudden [be] disenfranchised emotionally. So, in that way, [God] gives strength. 

As mentioned by Orlando, Dean, and others, a strong sense or “vision” of belonging to God was a partial buffer against racism. Similarly, feelings of belonging to one’s family were frequently mentioned by participants.

Catrina, a wife and dental assistant, said that after daily experiences with racism for her, her husband, and their children, they would unite and rally together: 

So, coming home, … we just come and talk about what may have happened, then realize that it is not our problem—it’s theirs—and [we’re] just gonna have to give it up and praise God anyway. And [we] just pray about it and encourage each other to do our best and … take those things to the Lord. 

Chris, a Baptist husband from Louisiana, referenced his Black heritage as a source of strength to him and his family. Significantly, even when he was speaking about ancestors long past, he often used the pronouns “we” and “us.” Chris said:

I think it’s more of a historical thing for us. Back in slavery when we were just against all odds, out there in the fields … being tortured, and we sang hymns. You heard the stories about how they overcame all the prejudice. … One thing that was always constant was their belief system, and I … I always fall back on that. … I think that sometimes, a lot of the young people today don’t really understand the struggle that some of our foreparents went through, [but I do] I think [about] that history of just dealing with all the, the prejudices … we’ve just endured. And through it all, we still seem to maintain. That’s the one thing we have that’s always been a strength for us.

Derek, a Baptist husband from North Carolina, wanted to impart a similar message to Black youth. He emphasized individuality and intentionality in the context of a strong heritage: 

To young Black couples, the young kids now, I would say go back and … look at your history. And see what the Black family was. And then turn around. Because you ain’t what somebody [else says] you are. You can be whatever you wanna be. And history plays a part of it. You pick out the good and throw away the bad. And don’t forget where you come from. Don’t forget who you are. 

Brianna and Ted, a Christian couple from Louisiana, described how they buoyed each other up by reaffirming their belonging with each other and with God. Ted said:

As I tell [my wife] all the time, ‘You know who you are, and that’s what you have to stand on. Know who you are in God and don’t worry about what nobody else says.’ And a lot of times with me, she’ll tell [me], ‘I don’t worry about people. I know who I am in Christ, and that’s what most matters to me.’ I know who I am.

Gary, a Methodist husband from Massachusetts, talked about how feeling accepted by God influenced him positively when he felt keenly aware of his weaknesses. Gary said: 

God puts up with me, and I’m a big pain in the butt. I’m imperfect and all other things, and so it really helps me. … It’s His open acceptance of me, the good, the bad, the ugly, everything that I’ve done [that blesses me]. He knows and He still loves me? W[e] are all sinners [but still] Christ died for us. … That [has] a direct influence [on me]. 

What We Learn About Coping with Racism

Collectively, the voices of these families reveal that racism is not an abstract construct or imaginary fixation; it is an experience that—sometimes daily—places undue stress and strain on Black families navigating a society that often sees color over character. However, these families also note that stress spillover from racism can be met and responded to with a divine sense of self-worth, deep self-respect, support of family, and profound faith in a God who knows and helps.

For these exemplary Black families, their reliance on a loving Creator is not simply embedded in hope for the afterlife, but rather in a resilience that helps them to interpret hardship, regulate difficult emotions, and to continually choose love over hatred. These families embody the wisdom captured by the late Annie Mae Denton who grew up in Jim Crow-era Mississippi but served as a vibrant model of loving all around her—in spite of the racism she faced throughout her life. Her creed? “Never let someone else’s bad moment get between you and the Lord.” 

The post Leaning on the Lord: Lessons from Exemplary Black Families on Faithfully Coping with Racism appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

“Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.” —Martin Luther King Jr.

Sometimes the week’s sermons foreshadow a struggle that will soon knock at your door.

My wife, Missy, and I learned this recently in a peacemaking crisis with a neighbor, which came less than 24 hours after we heard two sermons on peacemaking. I’ll call our neighbor Alice (not her real name). She’s a short, stocky, 50-something woman who walks with a waddle. She loves animals. Between November and March, Alice feeds the crows pounds of peanuts. The result is a noisy murder of birds and a roof and yard (ours) littered with shells that clog our gutters.

Then, about six months later, on the Monday morning before Thanksgiving, Alice knocked on our door as we were busy preparing to leave for the airport.

“Did you put this on my door?” she asked. 

She showed us a piece of light blue paper with these words: “PLEASE STOP FEEDING PEANUTS TO THE CROWS!!!!!”

“No,” I responded.

“Did someone else in your house put it out? I know you don’t like the peanuts,” Alice said, her face and voice making clear she was not convinced by my denial.

“No, we didn’t put that sign out,” Missy said.

“Are you lying to me?” Alice asked.

“No,” I said.

I was terse because there was no time to talk. Like those birds, we had to catch a flight.

And with that, Alice shrugged her shoulders in frustration, turned around, and stomped down our steps. In her mind, we were guilty.

The next Monday morning, we were back home. A crow was on our skylight, pecking away at something. I worried the bird might chip the window. As I often do, I opened our front door to raise my hands and shew away the murder congregating on the street.

Alice saw this through her window and was steamed. She stormed over, knocked on the door, and asked to speak with me.

“I was on the phone with my daughter just a minute ago when I saw you open your door and wave the crows away,” Alice said, her voice on edge and full of spite. “I know it was you who put the sign on my door. You are sign people. You have a no soliciting sign and that other one asking people to not leave dog poop on their lawn. Why can’t we just talk about this and not behave like we’re in middle school? What is your problem with the crows?”

This was quickly turning into a Shakespearean tragedy, with Alice misinterpreting our every word and move.

I explained calmly that the crows’ pecking wakes us up and clogs our gutters. I could have added that their repeated noises bothers one of our daughters, who has sensory issues. And there’s also the potential for their pecking to ruin our roof.

As I closed the door, she lobbed one last verbal grenade.

“The crows are the nicest neighbors I have,” Alice said. “You are so mean!”

I immediately wondered—was I too forceful, too rash? The exchange rocked us and turned the day to ash.

The next afternoon, we composed a note of apology for misunderstanding her and regret for the scene that marred our Monday. Missy left it on Alice’s porch with a loaf of pumpkin chocolate chip bread.

Alice responded a week later with a brief note, sent via snail mail. She thanked us for the bread but did not apologize. Her words felt like a backhanded way of saying we are to blame.

With the wound still fresh and our minds in disbelief at her callousness, we tossed her note in our recycle bin. We wanted to be right. We wanted her to see the logic of our clogged gutters and our daughter’s sensory needs. But the ensuing silence was heavy. The poison of strife was setting in, that physical tightening of the chest that happens when a neighbor becomes an adversary.

It was here that the sermons from that Sunday began to sink in. The peacemaking process can be chaotic and confusing. As the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King famously noted, “Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle.”

Love and forgiveness are the only way forward. Thus our quick offering of peace. This Dr. King also knew. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that,” he said. “Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

Alas, progress toward peace feels less like a victory march and more like the slow process of clearing a blocked gutter—one handful of debris at a time. But we will try. And we will keep trying.

We want to be peacemakers. But peacemaking is a long dance, a communal project that must be engaged in by both sides. Whether it is building muscle, better habits, stronger relationships, or a neighborhood and society where we simply respect and love each other, nothing comes to pass without Dr. King’s idea of “continuous struggle.”

In Moses’ reflection of the wonder of his theophany, we find a powerful phrase: “I beheld [God’s] face.”

Though this painful experience with Alice remains unresolved, it was an opportunity to behold her face up close—not merely as the “crow lady” or a source of drama, but as someone created in the image of God. We are commanded to love her who, at the moment, feels like an enemy. As the musical Les Miserables concludes, “To love another person is to see the face of God.”

The continuous struggle to find that divine face in the neighbor is the path toward the light of God. It is not paved with grand gestures or born of sudden, mountain top epiphanies, but is carved out of daily rhythms of relation where we smile at others, say hello, step into shared spaces, and listen. The struggle isn’t heroic—it’s habitual.

The post The Continuous, Habitual Struggle for Peace appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

Americans have always been divided over politics, but the divide seems to be getting worse.  Members of the two major political parties overwhelmingly see members of the other party as “immoral” and “dishonest,” according to Pew Research. Approximately 11% of Americans are less likely to support a topic if they think there is bipartisan support for it, a YouGov poll found. For at least 11% of the electorate, not letting the other guy win is more important than winning.

But focusing on the statistics of divisiveness too much can obscure a different truth: Americans are not as divided as they seem. In fact, there is near consensus among Americans on a range of important political issues. Americans need to begin to see the political spectrum not as two sides split down the middle, but as a large block of consensus with extreme ideas at the ends of the opinion spectrum. Approaching political controversies from a perspective of unity rather than division is the first step to resolve the urgent political challenges we face today.

Media biases are well documented by groups like Ad Fontes and others that study media biases. Many modern media conglomerates combine incomplete facts with biases to present a cultivated reality, as several organizations have shown. When outlets are so skewed, the citizenry splits. 

President Dallin H. Oaks has also spoken of the dangers of division. In a 2023 address at the University of Virginia, he observed, “Extreme voices influence popular opinion, but they polarize and sow resentment as they seek to dominate their opponents and achieve absolute victory. Such outcomes are rarely sustainable or even attainable, and they are never preferable to living together in mutual understanding and peace.”

The result of this manufactured contention is division among Americans. Pew’s repeated values index shows the share of Americans at the ideological “tails” of the political spectrum roughly doubled from 1994 to the mid-2010s, with shrinking overlap between parties. The public is sorted more by party identity and values than in the 1990s, people feel colder toward the out-party than before, and elected officials vote in more unified, polarized blocs. Not only are politicians unwilling to work to achieve bipartisan successes, but prominent political leaders and media demonize their opponents.

In contrast, President Russell M. Nelson repeatedly called upon us to be peacemakers:

“Too many pundits, politicians, entertainers, and other influencers throw insults constantly. I am greatly concerned that so many people seem to believe that it is completely acceptable to condemn, malign, and vilify anyone who does not agree with them. Many seem eager to damage another’s reputation with pathetic and pithy barbs!  . . . Anger never persuades. Hostility builds no one. Contention never leads to inspired solutions.”

Are Americans really as divided on the issues as we are led to believe? No! Though this may come as a surprise, there is unity and consensus in America if we are willing to look for it. Some of the hottest political topics this year enjoy agreement from the overwhelming majority of the country. For example, 91% of Americans agree that protecting the right to vote is “extremely important,” according to a recent YouGov poll. Americans also overwhelmingly agree on establishing terms limits for Congress, capping annual out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs, increasing federal funding to improve cybersecurity, and many other issues.

In spite of broad agreement among the electorate, political topics are often politicized, and the electorate and its representatives become divided. Yet the majority of both major parties agree on at least 109 policy proposals, according to a recent YouGov poll. In many cases the government actively works against the will of the people by neglecting this consensus.

A few examples of the 109 areas of agreement include:

• Increasing federal funding for public school accommodations for students with disabilities. Approximately 86% of respondents agreed federal funding should be increased for schools to support students with disabilities. This is a consensus opinion. Those who disagree are on the fringe on the topic.
• Requiring presidential candidates to take cognitive exams and disclose the results. 80% of all respondents think there should be a cognitive exam given to presidential candidates and those results be published before a candidate can be elected. That is a massive consensus.
• Increasing funding for the maintenance of national parks. 80% of respondents agreed that the federal government should spend more on national parks. The value of such parks is recognized globally and Americans overwhelmingly want their parks protected.

Areas of agreement exist for even the most controversial topics, such as abortion. For example, ninety-two percent of Americans agree that abortions should be legal in at least some cases. On the other side, seventy percent agree that elective abortions should not be legal in the third trimester. This consensus could be the beginning point of more productive discussions about preventing and regulating abortion. 

If there is common ground on abortion, there is common ground everywhere. On nearly every political issue, points of common acceptance and understanding can instigate paths to consensus solutions.

To be sure, we will not be able to resolve all political challenges in ways that make everyone happy. But that does not absolve us of our obligation to make a good-faith effort to find inspired solutions. President Oaks said, “As a practical basis for co-existence, we should accept the reality that we are fellow citizens who need each other. This requires us to accept some laws we dislike, and to live peacefully with some persons whose values differ from our own. Amid such inevitable differences, we should make every effort to understand the experiences and concerns of others, especially when they differ from our own.”

As followers of Jesus Christ, we can follow the counsel of our modern prophets as well as the example of our Savior, Jesus Christ. We start by respecting those around us and seeing them as our fellow brothers and sisters, in spite of their political positions. Satan seeks to divide us using geographical, societal, and political divisions to inspire disharmony. Rejecting labels placed on others for political reasons helps us to see situations—and others—more clearly.

True study of the issues, challenges, and potential solutions will drive us to open our minds and recognize what we have in common both as citizens and as children of God. The General Handbook of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints  teaches us to “seek out and share only credible, reliable, and factual sources of information.” Following this counsel will naturally drive us to limit polarized sources and seek out real truth, which likely requires engaging multiple perspectives and opening our minds to accept truth when we see it. When we start from the assumption that there is common ground, we can break free from the bifurcated political landscape in which we live.

“We urge you to spend the time needed to become informed about the issues and candidates you will be considering. Some principles compatible with the gospel may be found in various political parties, and members should seek candidates who best embody those principles. Members should also study candidates carefully and vote for those who have demonstrated integrity, compassion, and service to others, regardless of party affiliation. Merely voting a straight ticket or voting based on “tradition” without careful study of candidates and their positions on important issues is a threat to democracy and inconsistent with revealed standards (see Doctrine and Covenants 98:10). Information on candidates is available through the internet, debates, and other sources.”

Leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ have delivered repeated prophetic counsel. Our duty as followers of Jesus Christ is to actively fulfill it by becoming peacemakers. So the next time you find yourself feeling outrage or contempt for what “they” think or do, remember: you probably agree with them on a lot of issues. The divide may not be as wide as you imagine. If we’re willing to look, perhaps we’ll find that “they” are standing right next to “us” on some important political topics. Peacemaking starts by rejecting the voices that look to divide us, recognizing what we already have in common, and building from there.

The post We’re Not All That Divided: The Myth of a Nation Split in Half appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

I was seven when I learned to disappear—not with footsteps, but with thought—because silence meant survival. In post-revolutionary Iran, an honest question could lead to prison, exile, or worse. Before I had words for any of this, my mind built an invisible checkpoint: Don’t say that. Don’t ask that. Don’t look too curious. The wrong word, heard by the wrong person, could alter your life—or end it.

I wasn’t one of “them,” and I couldn’t pretend to be. So I kept my head down and poured myself into work and family, trying to make a quiet difference and raise a daughter whose future might be larger than my survival. Even that carried risk. The regime turned the poor against the successful, stoking envy to keep control. More than once, I was told that any achievement must be luck or appearance.

What happened there explains what worries me here—and the small civic habits that can interrupt the slide.

A Pattern Learned in Iran

Ideological tyranny weaponizes belief, envy, and resentment to divide and rule. In Iran, the regime co-opted the moral authority of religion to suppress opposition. Questioning those in power became synonymous with questioning God. Censorship, exile, and even execution were justified as moral acts. And in time, people not only lost faith in the regime, but also lost faith in faith itself. Suspicion replaced solidarity. Society fractured into millions of pieces.

I tried to raise a daughter whose future might be brighter than mine. But even that came with risk. When my daughter grew older—bright, outspoken, and unwilling to tolerate injustice—I knew what her boldness could cost her. I didn’t want her future to be one of quiet survival. I wanted her voice to grow, not shrink.

Before the 1979 revolution, Iran was politically and socially fractured. Communists, monarchists, nationalists, theocrats—each group believed it alone held the moral high ground. Everyone had a cause. Everyone had a criticism. But no one had a unifying vision.

The revolution succeeded not because it was inclusive, but because one faction, Khomeini’s theocratic movement, was more organized, more absolute, and more ruthless. The rest of those critics, visionaries, students, and intellectuals were silenced, exiled, or killed.

One of the promises that helped with the revolution was Khomeini’s vow to make electricity, water, and bus fares free. It was seductive rhetoric, devoid of any real plan, a lie. My family remembers the applause. They also remember the decades of suffering that followed.

So I made the hardest decision of my life: I left everything behind to start from zero in a new country. I believed in the promise of free speech. I believed that talent and hard work could still open doors. I believed in the American ideal.

But today, I’m concerned by the familiar patterns I once fled. I don’t worry that America is Iran. I worry that no democracy is immune to decay. 

American Echoes

In this new homeland, outrage is often harvested for influence. Pain is politicized for gain. People are labeled, deplatformed, publicly humiliated, and shamed, all because they expressed a different opinion. What I fled from was a system that blurred the line between faith and power. What I now observe is a culture where ideological certainty plays a similar role, enforced not by the state, but by tribes of public judgment and algorithmic enforcement.

From Polarization to Fragility

In this environment, we no longer debate; we condemn. We no longer ask questions; we assign guilt. The moderate voice isn’t just overlooked; it’s erased.

Technology accelerates these dynamics. Social media amplifies rage. Performance replaces substance. Remote work and fragmented communities weaken the civic bonds that once tempered our most reactive impulses. Loudness trumps logic. Outrage substitutes for outcomes. We reward those who stir emotion, not those who offer answers.

And as we fragment into increasingly isolated factions, we grow more vulnerable, not to reasonable compromise or better ideas, but to those willing to exploit the chaos. 

I’ve lived this story before.

What to Rebuild

We are not doomed to repeat the past, but we are not exempt from it either. I don’t believe the solution lies in going back in time. In moments of uncertainty, humans romanticize obsolete systems. We tend to retreat, not toward innovation, but toward the familiar. That impulse is a symptom of fear, not a path forward. 

We need to move beyond performance and toward pluralistic, rational solidarity—rather than blind allegiance or nostalgia. This solidarity is grounded in mutual respect, shared responsibility, and the discipline of critical thought.

That begins by rebuilding the habits of thinking critically and asking the hard questions:

• Ask for evidence and trade‑offs. Reward arguments that grapple with costs, not just causes.
• Separate people from positions. Disagree without dehumanizing.
• Protect conscience and respectful dissent. Honor moral agency and religious liberty. The freedom to make mistakes is part of what helps us grow and develop. 
• Prefer outcomes to outrage. Celebrate solutions, not just slogans.
• Assume partial knowledge. Speak in drafts; listen for revision.
• Rebuild local ties. Thick communities make thin caricatures harder to sustain.

I’m not writing this as an expert. I’m writing this as someone who has lived the consequences of silence, of tribal fracturing and dogmatic chasms. I don’t have all the answers. But I’ve seen what happens when a society abandons the effort to find them, when it replaces thoughtful debate with emotional absolutism.

That’s why I’m speaking now to provoke reflection. To ask: How far are we willing to go down this path? And what are we giving up along the way? And to achieve what? 

If we lose the courage to ask those questions, we may soon find ourselves unable to ask any at all.

So I leave you with a question: while we are all busy criticizing, resenting, and defining ourselves by what we oppose, who is guarding our freedom? If we mistake outrage for civic action and replace deliberation with denunciation, our liberties can be hijacked sooner than we imagine, and an entire country can be held hostage to a new form of dictatorship.

The post I Fled Post-Revolution Iran. I’m Worried for America. appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

This article marks the twelfth and final article in the Peacemaking Series. In 2023, the late Prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, issued the call, Peacemakers Needed. TheFamilyProclamation.org answered this call by producing 12 playful, 1 to 2-minute videos teaching principles and tactics for Peacemaking. While secular in their content, each video was directly inspired by the principles taught in President Nelson’s talk. When writing each script, the creators presented scholarly theories from the fields of psychology, philosophy, conflict resolution, and communication, which would help support an individual trying to integrate President Nelson’s message into their personal and professional relationships. Public Square Magazine published this 12-part article series as an opportunity to exhibit the research that supported the content of each video. Each article acts as a companion piece for one video from the series.

Questions for Conflict

The final video in the series presents a list of “Questions for Conflict.” Each question references principles taught in the previous videos. The intention is that an individual who has watched all the videos can quickly view this last video to help them remember what they have learned. The questions aren’t a test; they help guide an individual’s thinking as they consider the course of action they ought to take when trying to make a conflict more peaceful.

In similar fashion, this companion article lists the link to each video in the series, the link to its companion article, the main ideas taught in that video and article, and then the action question from the resource video above. Our intention with this article’s brevity and organization is that it may become a simple reference guide, something easily bookmarked for quick access, sharable with friends or family; an aid for creating more peace while navigating social conflicts in life, for inspiring “love one toward another” and to go “about doing good” (1 Thessalonians 3 and Acts 10). God bless us all as we grow in our discipleship of “The Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9).

Controlling Anger

The Art of Peacemaking: Controlling Anger by Bridging Logic and Emotion

Main Idea: When anger or other strong emotions surge, they can hijack our judgment, pushing us toward reactions that harm understanding and connection. By pausing to breathe deeply, we slow the body’s adrenaline response, give our rational mind time to catch up, and create space to act with clarity, patience, and purpose instead of hostility.

Question: Should I take a few deep breaths?

Conflict Is Natural

Conflict is Natural: How We Mistake Discomfort for Destruction

Main Idea: Conflict is when two or more opposing forces meet each other, and our personal associations with that word—whether positive or negative—reveal how we understand and respond to disagreement. By maturing those associations toward a “conflict is natural” perspective, we learn to see conflict not as something to fear or even like, but as an inevitable process toward discovering balance, harmony, and productive solutions.

Question: What good can come from this conflict?

Semantic Ambiguity

From Babel to the UN: How Semantic Confusion Undermines Peace—and the Radical Power of Clarity

Main Idea: Many disagreements begin with semantic ambiguity—the confusion that arises when a word carries multiple meanings and each person assumes their own definition is shared by everyone else. To resolve such confusion, take time to unpack the word by asking, “What do you mean by that?” This simple act builds the communication foundation for genuine peace through clarity.

Question: Are any of the words we’re using ambiguous?

Positive Gossip

What If Gossip Isn’t a Sin—But a Skill in Peacemaking?

Main Idea: Gossip––any conversation about someone who is not present—is a pervasive part of human communication, and it can be either negative, focusing on the faults of others, which spreads harm, or positive, celebrating others’ virtues and reinforcing unity. Intentionally pivoting from negative to positive gossip by asking questions that encourage empathy fosters compassion, strengthens relationships, and transforms ordinary conversation into a constructive force for understanding and social unity.

Question: Have I acknowledged this person’s strengths?

Bridges of Understanding

The Complex Art of Christian Kindness: Building Bridges

Main Idea: Conflicts often arise not because people truly disagree, but because people misunderstand one another’s perspectives. The solution is to ask sincere questions motivated by genuine curiosity and the desire for positive connection—turning toward “bids.” This builds understanding, fosters goodwill, and allows people to navigate differing perspectives without compromising personal standards.

Question: Do I sincerely believe this person knows something I don’t?

Disagreements Bring Balance

Disagreements Bring Balance: When Silence Isn’t Peace

Main Idea: Many people avoid speaking up in disagreements out of fear of rocking the boat, being judged, or creating conflict, yet this silence often limits perspective, stifles collaboration, and diminishes relational authenticity. By embracing vocal disagreement through empathy, curiosity, and structured techniques—such as using “I statements,” talking in parts, asking clarifying questions, and restating others’ perspectives—individuals can take responsibility for expressing their own views and create deeper connections.

Question: Have I expressed every part of myself honestly?

Forgiveness

 You Don’t Need to Feel Forgiving to Forgive

Main Idea: The experience of personal betrayal often leaves lasting pain, presenting a tension between holding onto anger or extending forgiveness, a choice that affects both the offender and the offended. Forgiveness is an active, deliberate process practiced through steps like naming the hurt, imagining dialogue with the offender, switching perspectives, and then choosing between anger and forgiveness. Even without trust, apology, or change from the other person, one can cultivate compassion, emotional healing, and freedom for oneself.

Questions: Why am I hurting? Why might they be hurting? Am I choosing to give them anger or forgiveness?

Save the Relationship!

Disagreement: Three Steps toward Relationship Conservation

Main Idea: Even minor disagreements, if mishandled, can threaten the very heart of a relationship, causing lasting damage. By following the three-step approach—first separating the conflict from the relationship, next resuscitating the bond with gratitude and repair attempts, and finally addressing the deeper needs behind the disagreement—relationships can be preserved, strengthened, and transformed into opportunities for understanding and growth.

Questions: Have I separated the relationship from the conflict? How can I “resuscitate” the relationship? How can I address their deeper needs?

Conflict Styles

Why Winning Doesn’t Make You Right: Five Conflict Styles

Main Idea: Disagreements are inevitable, and no single approach suffices for every conflict; understanding the five conflict management styles—Oblige, Promote, Collaborate, Compromise, and Avoid—helps prevent resentment. Discern the needs of yourself and others, then apply the appropriate style for the situation: you can oblige when the issue matters more to others, assertively promote when it matters more to you, collaborate for mutual solutions, compromise when time is limited, or even avoid the conflict altogether when it’s just not that important.

Questions: Who has the greater need here? Which conflict style would be wise for me to use?

What is Power?

The Paradox of Power and the Secret Strength of Meekness

Main Idea: Power, defined simply as “the ability to control a resource,” emerges not from domination or coercion but from recognizing and effectively using resources (both internal and external). Sustainable and righteous power grows through self-mastery and compassionate influence, inviting others to engage willingly in play.

Questions: What resources are available to me? What should I stop participating in, and start participating in?

Peacemaking

Peacemaking, Redefined: Why Civility Feels So Radical

Main Idea: Rising social and interpersonal tensions make even minor disagreements feel threatening to relationships. The introductory video and article explain that the Peacemaking Series teaches that healthier connections can be cultivated by taking personal responsibility, approaching differences with empathy and respect, and modeling peacemaking one interaction at a time.

Question: What can I do to be a peacemaker?

About The Sykline Research Institute

The Skyline Research Institute hosts the website TheFamilyProclamation.org. As a non-profit organization, they combine scripture, scholarship, and stories supporting the doctrine and teachings in The Family: A Proclamation to the World. You can follow them for podcasts, original research, more video content, and even lesson plans for families and classrooms through their social media accounts or at their website, TheFamilyProclamation.org.

The post The Final Lesson of Peacemaking: Ask Better Questions appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version</a

Most people instinctively lean on one or two ways of handling conflict: a favorite approach and a fallback when the first doesn’t work. Yet there are five conflict management styles, and all five are necessary in fostering healthy relationships. The challenge is learning to use the right style at the right time. Which styles do you default to? And which should you start implementing?

This article is part of a series pairing short, humorous videos created by TheFamilyProclamation.Org with articles published by Public Square offering deeper explorations of the theory and doctrine of Peacemaking. Each installment pairs academic theory with Christian teachings for resolving everyday disagreements.

Today’s video shows examples of using all five conflict management styles when there are two people, but only one slice of pizza left. 

The five styles introduced here are based on the Thomas–Kilmann Conflict Mode Instrument: Oblige, Promote, Collaborate, Compromise, and Avoid. It’s helpful to consider the five styles based on people’s needs: your needs and the needs of others. And, the amount of time and effort each style takes. The consequence of unmet needs either in oneself or others is the strong negative emotion of resentment. No one style is inherently right or wrong. The key lies in discerning which approach fits the situation.

Oblige

Obliging means yielding to another’s needs. When the issue matters more to them than to oneself, in conflict theory, it reflects a low concern for personal needs and a high concern for others’ needs. This style can de-escalate tensions, promote gratitude, and acknowledge the importance of another’s perspective. However, overuse may neglect essential personal needs.

A scriptural example comes from Abraham and Lot in Genesis 13. When their herdsmen quarreled over land, Abraham obliged: “Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee … for we be brethren … If thou wilt take the left hand, then I will go to the right; or if thou depart to the right hand, then I will go to the left.” Lot chose the fertile Jordan Valley, while Abraham accepted the less desirable land. Abraham’s willingness to accommodate preserved peace between their households.

In the 1840s, a devastating blight destroyed Ireland’s potato crops, leading to mass starvation and disease. The U.S. government took direct action. President James K. Polk ordered the naval vessel USS Jamestown to be filled with provisions and sent to Ireland in 1847. This was followed by widespread public fundraising and additional aid from the government. The U.S. decision was driven by empathy for the suffering Irish population, many of whom had emigrated to America. The action was taken with no expectation of political or financial compensation. While it did strengthen the relationship, the United States’ response to the Irish Potato Famine was an obliging act motivated by a sense of goodwill and compassion.

Pros: Defuses tension quickly; communicates care for the other’s perspective; allows movement forward when personal cost is minor.

Cons: Can create resentment if personal needs are repeatedly ignored; risks imbalance in relationships; may enable others’ selfishness.

Iconic statement: “This matters more to you than to me—take it.”

Promote

Promoting involves asserting one’s own needs. When the issue is of high importance personally but less critical for others, in conflict theory, this reflects a high concern for personal self-needs and a lower concern for others’. Used wisely, it preserves integrity, sets boundaries, respect, and prevents neglect of essential personal responsibilities.

Scripture records Esther as a profound example. When the Jews of Persia faced extermination, Esther risked her life by approaching King Ahasuerus unbidden. “If I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16). Her boldness in promoting her people’s survival turned the tide of history.

In modern history, Susan B. Anthony exemplified this style through tireless advocacy for women’s suffrage. Willing to endure arrest and ridicule, she insisted, “Men, their rights, and nothing more; women, their rights, and nothing less.” By promoting her cause with unrelenting persistence, she advanced the rights of countless women.

Pros: Safeguards essential personal needs; establishes clear boundaries; brings neglected issues to light.

Cons: Can appear and even become domineering; risks escalating conflict; may undermine relationships if used unnecessarily.

Iconic statement: “This matters deeply to me—I must stand for it.”

Collaborating

Collaborating seeks solutions that fully meet the needs of all parties. In theory, it reflects a high concern for both self and others. It is the most time-intensive and demanding style, but also the one most likely to generate durable, creative, and mutually satisfying resolutions.

A scriptural example appears in the Council of Jerusalem (Acts 15), where early Christians debated whether Gentile converts must keep the law of Moses. Through deliberation and testimony, leaders forged a collaborative solution: Gentiles would not be required to keep the full law but were asked to respect certain practices for the sake of unity. This preserved inclusion without dissolving moral standards.

In history, Nelson Mandela exemplified collaboration during South Africa’s transition away from apartheid. Instead of seeking revenge, his inclusive multiracial leadership in the African National Congress, personal mentorship of Springbok rugby captain Francois Pienaar, and his willingness to work with political rivals Mandela established a democratic framework, preventing civil war and opening a path toward reconciliation.

Pros: Builds trust; generates creative solutions; addresses the deepest needs of all parties.

Cons: Requires significant time and energy; can stall if parties are unwilling; may be impractical in urgent conflicts.

Iconic statement: “Let’s stay at the table until we find a solution that works for all of us.”

Compromising

Compromising involves each party yielding part of their needs to reach a middle ground. In theory, it balances moderate concern for self and others. It does not produce perfect satisfaction but provides workable solutions when time is short or stakes are moderate.

A scriptural example appears in the division of land among Israel’s tribes. The tribe of Reuben and Gad requested land east of the Jordan, which initially angered Moses. A compromise was reached: they could settle eastward provided their soldiers helped the other tribes secure their inheritance west of the Jordan (Numbers 32).

In history, the Missouri Compromise of 1820 illustrates this principle. Balancing free and slave states preserved the fragile union for a time, though deeper moral questions remained unresolved.

Pros: Creates quick, workable solutions; is often perceived as “fair”; avoids stalemates; spreads sacrifice across parties.

Cons: Often leaves no one fully satisfied; can defer deeper issues; risks fostering half-measures instead of real resolution.

Iconic statement: “I’ll give some, you give some, and we’ll both move forward.”

Avoiding

Avoiding means stepping away from conflict altogether, either by deferring, delaying, or disengaging. In theory, it reflects low concern for the needs of both self and others in the conflict. Avoidance may preserve peace when the issue is trivial, the relationship is distant or unimportant, or when emotions are too high for productive discussion. But, avoidance risks creating resentment if used habitually in close or necessary relationships.

Scripture shows Jesus withdrawing after intense disputes with religious leaders: “And Jesus went about Galilee: for he would not walk in Jewry, because the Jews sought to kill him” (John 7:1). His withdrawal shows discernment for choosing the right moment to disengage. But on another occasion, when confronted by opponents trying to trap him with a question about paying taxes to Caesar, Jesus asked to see a coin and noted that it bore Caesar’s image. He then responded, “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which be Caesar’s, and unto God the things which be God’s.” Though He engaged with those promoting a conflict, this encounter is still an example of conflict avoidance because Jesus shifted the conversation to a moral lesson rather than engaging in the political debate his opponents intended.

As president, George Washington witnessed the growing animosity between factions, which he feared would destroy the republic from within. Instead of staying in office to fight the factions, Washington retired, setting a critical precedent for a peaceful transfer of power. By doing so, he removed his unifying but also polarizing presence, forcing the political system to mature on its own. His farewell address served as a final, non-partisan warning. George Washington’s retirement is an example of avoidance, as he intentionally disengaged from political power to prevent the young nation from being torn apart by deepening partisan conflict. By contrast, Mahatma Gandhi continually engaged in politics utilizing strategic avoidance through nonviolent resistance. By refusing to meet violence with violence, he avoided direct clashes while still advancing his cause, exhausting the will of his opponents without reciprocating hostility.

Pros: Allows time for cooling off; prevents escalation over trivial matters; creates space for reflection.

Cons: Can leave problems unresolved; risks long-term resentment; may erode trust if avoidance becomes habitual.

Iconic statement: “This conflict doesn’t need to be fought right now.”

“O Be Wise”

We may be particularly gifted or prone to using one or two of the styles, but no single style is sufficient for every situation. Scripture and history affirm that wisdom lies not in clinging to one or two styles but in discerning which approach serves the moment best. Some say knowledge comes from facts, but wisdom comes from experience. Learn from the experience of others and, in counsel with God, discern which style to resolve every conflict in life. Conflict is inevitable, but considering the full range of conflict styles transforms disagreements into robust opportunities for growth, justice, and deeper connection: don’t just default to one or two styles. So even though we may be “as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves” (Matthew 10).

The post Why Winning Doesn’t Make You Right: Five Conflict Styles appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

On a winter night in Montgomery, 1956, a young pastor stood at a pulpit preaching nonviolence while the movement’s enemies slipped a bomb onto his home’s front porch. When Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. learned his home had been bombed—with his wife Coretta and their infant daughter inside—he rushed home to find an angry, armed crowd gathering in the street. King raised his hands and pleaded for peace: “We must meet violence with nonviolence … go home and don’t worry. We are not hurt.” Then he sent people back to their families and back to their faith. The church remained the movement’s shelter, and the movement remained the church’s work.

That is one of our nation’s defining images of what sacred space is for. A sanctuary is not a fortress; it’s a promise. It promises that there is at least one place where the human person is not a problem to be solved by force but a soul to be received, heard, and protected. It promises a time‑out from vengeance long enough for justice, mercy, and reason to do their work.

But that promise has been pierced—again and again.

When the sanctuary is torn

The wounds are old. On a Sunday morning in 1963, terrorists placed dynamite under the steps of Birmingham’s 16th Street Baptist Church. The blast killed four little girls and shook a nation awake. Their names—Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley—still invite us to say never again with our whole chests.

Two years later, the deadliest church shooting in American history struck First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs, Texas—twenty‑six slain, twenty‑two wounded—on a Sunday that became a long Good Friday for a small town. That same autumn near Nashville, gunfire ripped through Burnette Chapel Church of Christ as worshipers were leaving morning service; one was killed, and several were wounded.

In 2019, at West Freeway Church of Christ, an attacker killed two congregants; the livestream captured the trauma of a sanctuary violated. 

In 2022, a gunman opened fire at St. Stephen’s Episcopal in Vestavia Hills, Alabama, during a potluck, killing three retirees. That same spring in Laguna Woods, California, political hatred targeted a Taiwanese congregation meeting at Geneva Presbyterian; one man died shielding others as five were wounded.

And then came this late summer: a school‑year Mass at Minneapolis’s Annunciation Catholic Church was transformed into a scene of horror. Two children were killed. Twenty‑one people were wounded. A community of parents and grandparents in their Sunday best learned the meaning of intercession under fire.

And it’s not only bullets and bombings that have pierced the promise of sanctuary.

For years afterward, our government tacitly restored a norm. But in January 2025, federal officials rescinded those “sensitive locations” protections and announced that churches would no longer be treated as off‑limits. 

And now, as I write, we are once more confronted by blood on the sanctuary floor. On September 28, 2025, in Grand Blanc Township, Michigan, a man rammed his pickup into a Latter‑day Saint meetinghouse, opened fire on worshipers, and set the building ablaze. Four were killed and eight wounded; the suspect died after an exchange of gunfire with police. Investigators say he harbored a hatred of Latter‑day Saints. Whatever the motive, we can say what it was: an act of targeted violence against a people at prayer.

If sanctuary is the promise, these are its betrayals.

Why sanctuaries matter—still

Sanctuary is older than our nation and broader than our denominations. The Hebrew Scriptures created “cities of refuge”—an early recognition that justice without mercy becomes mere force. 

American churches have tried. Black congregations made their sanctuaries waystations on the Underground Railroad because conscience and Scripture would not let them return the image of God in chains. Civil rights churches kept their doors open to people who had been beaten by deputies and attacked by dogs. In the 1980s and again in our own decade, congregations of every stripe opened basements and parish halls to immigrant neighbors facing sudden separation from their children. 

Even those skeptical of religion should recognize what is at stake. Houses of worship are where communities knit trust, where hungry people find food, and addicts find companions who will not give up on them. When our cycles of violence treat churches like just another address—or when hatred treats them like just another “soft target”—it sends a message: there is no place you can assume a modicum of peace. That message corrodes the very social capital our neighborhoods need to be safe.

What “re‑enshrining” sanctuary should look like

A renewal of sanctuaries in America does not require turning churches into islands above the law. However, it will require the re-entrenching of norms that the state respects. It requires recovering the moral wisdom that our law should serve.

We can re‑establish a bright‑line norm against enforcement actions in sanctuaries. Congress can codify what was once policy into law: absent a true, immediate threat to life or a judicially‑authorized exigency, federal agents do not conduct arrests in churches, synagogues, mosques, or their immediate grounds. This would align enforcement with religious liberty and with long‑standing American instincts about sacred space.

Name and resist hatred for what it is. The Charleston murderer did not just kill; he desecrated hospitality offered across a color line. The Grand Blanc attacker allegedly nursed a bigotry toward Latter‑day Saints. We need moral clarity that the attack on a worshiping community is an attack on America’s promise to itself. Hate‑crime statutes and domestic‑terror tools should be used—fairly, consistently, and without fear or favor—to confront that reality. 

And then we need to turn hatred into love. An Amish community in Pennsylvania put this into practice when they forgave and then helped the family of the man who murdered many of their daughters. Similarly, Latter-day Saints have raised more than $265,000 (at the time of publication) for the care of the family of the man who died while attacking their chapel. 

A plea

Return, for a moment, to the home of Martin Luther King Jr. Glass on the floor. A baby’s cries. A crowd bristling with weapons. And a pastor who refused to let his people become what their enemies hoped they would become. King did not deny the danger or minimize the evil; he simply insisted on a better way. That choice—on a porch, in the dark—saved lives that night, and arguably the movement itself.

We need sanctuaries. We need places where the command ‘do not harm here’ holds.

The promise of sanctuary will never be perfectly kept; the list of violated spaces proves that. But the alternative is a country where nothing is sacred—not our neighbors, not the truth, not even the peace we claim to seek. That is not a future worthy of our children, or of the God so many of us worship.

The post “Sanctuary” Must Mean Something Again appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

This is the 9th article in our Peacemaking Series. To read the previous article: You Don’t Need to Feel Forgiving to Forgive

Even small disputes can feel like an attack on the heart of a relationship. Words are twisted, intentions misread, trust frays, and bonds weaken under the weight of tension. Yet through gospel principles, even the most serious conflicts can be healed by separating the conflict from the person, practicing repair attempts, and addressing the deeper needs that fuel disagreement. 

This article accompanies a short animated video from the Peacemaking series created by the Skyline Research Institute. In partnership with Public Square Magazine, each installment in the series pairs one of the short, playful videos with a companion essay, bringing together conflict resolution theory, research, and scriptural principles to provide practical tools for building stronger families, communities, and societies.  None of this is to suggest that abusive cycles of domestic violence need to or should be repaired.

The accompanying video for this article portrays a symbolic “relationship heart” under attack by a crocodile, requiring expert conservation efforts to prevent its destruction. The image captures a simple truth: conflicts, if mishandled, threaten the very life of a relationship. Yet with deliberate and principled intervention, even serious disagreements can be transformed into opportunities for healing.

Conflict as a Multidimensional Phenomenon

Conflict does not emerge solely from sin. Competing desires, misunderstandings, cultural pressures, resource constraints, stress, and personality differences all play roles in producing tension. While the spirit of contention is not of Christ, contention is an attitude toward conflict, not the conflict itself. So while sin may intensify these pressures, it does not account for their entirety. This recognition matters because it opens space for understanding conflict as a natural, even necessary, dimension of human relationships, rather than an aberration to be eliminated altogether.

Scholars distinguish between task conflict and relationship conflict. Learning to distinguish the two can help people in a conflict find the appropriate resolution. Task conflict refers to disagreements about ideas, procedures, or goals, while relationship conflict involves perceived incompatibilities in values, personalities, or status. Too often, task conflict is mistaken for a relationship conflict. Task conflict requires situational creative problem-solving. Relationship conflict requires significant effort and attention. Task conflict has sometimes been considered useful for stimulating innovation, but in practice, its benefits depend heavily on trust, communication, and context. When handled poorly, even task conflict can grow into a relationship conflict.

Repair Attempts as Relational Lifelines

The research of John Gottman underscores why some relationships survive conflict (task or relationship) while others disintegrate. According to Gottman, repair attempts consist of “any statement or action … that prevents negativity from escalating out of control.” These may include humor, affection, a soft word, or an acknowledgment of responsibility. Crucially, repair attempts are less about eliminating conflict than about ensuring that conflict does not overwhelm the bond itself.

Gottman’s longitudinal studies reveal that successful relationships maintain an approximate 5:1 ratio of positive to negative interactions. This balance enables trust and affection to cushion moments of disagreement. Where positive expressions abound, repair attempts gain traction; where negativity dominates, repair attempts fail to take hold.

From this perspective, repairing a relationship requires deliberate cultivation of gratitude, appreciation, and forgiveness, ensuring that conflict remains a temporary disruption rather than a permanent rupture.

Separating the Person from the Problem

Theologically, separating the individual from the conflict echoes one popular translation of St. Augustine’s appeal to “separate the sin from the sinner.” But remember, conflict does not emerge solely from sin. This distinction affirms that identity transcends wrongdoing, allowing space for compassion alongside accountability.

President Russell M. Nelson has similarly urged believers “to end conflicts in their lives,” pointing toward deliberate choices to interrupt cycles of contention. The Family: A Proclamation to the World reinforces this ethic by affirming that “successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.” Faith and repentance thus become relational as well as personal spiritual practices, enabling bonds to endure through moments of strain.

Scripture amplifies these teachings. “A soft answer turneth away wrath” (Proverbs 15:1) highlights the power of repair attempts. Christ’s counsel to “agree with thine adversary quickly” (Matthew 5:25) affirms the urgency of reconciliation. And the Lord’s commandment, “be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine” (Doctrine and Covenants 38:27), emphasizes the divine importance of unity.

Three Conservation Steps

The metaphor of “relationship conservation” highlights the need for careful, intentional action when bonds come under threat. These three steps help provide a structured approach.

Step One: Separate the Relationship from the Conflict

When disagreements emerge, the first task is to distinguish the conflict from the relationship itself. Emotions associated with the issue must not be allowed to contaminate perceptions of the person. In academic terms, task disagreement should not become relationship conflict. In theological terms, sin should not obscure divine worth.

Illustration: A sharp dispute over household chores does not mean affection has diminished; the issue is the task, not the person. “Sorry, I don’t mean to attack you—I’m just talking about the dishes.”

Step Two: Resuscitate the Relationship

Before addressing the substance of the disagreement, the bond itself requires renewal. Expressions of gratitude, acknowledgment of shared values, or gestures of affection resuscitate the relationship and create space for constructive dialogue. Gottman’s framework identifies such repair attempts as the decisive factor in whether conflict erodes or strengthens the bond. Within Christian practice, such moments parallel repentance and forgiveness, where humility and grace interrupt cycles of accusation.

Illustration: In the middle of an argument, a sincere “thank you for how much you do” can revive goodwill and open the way for resolution. “I know we’re both frustrated right now, but seriously, thank you for everything you’re doing—I feel grateful for you. You’re such a hard worker.”

Step Three: Address the Deeper Need

Finally, conflict resolution requires attention to underlying needs. A sharp exchange over scheduling may conceal a longing for recognition; frustration about money may mask deeper fear or insecurity. Kimball’s insight that sin reflects unmet need underscores this principle: resolution demands not only solving the surface issue but also addressing the emotional or spiritual heart.

Illustration: Anger over finances may reflect a deeper desire for security; meeting that need restores peace beyond the numbers. “I hear you about the finances. I can see why you feel that way. What can we do to help you feel more secure?”

Conserving the Heart of Relationships

Conflict in relationships is inevitable; destruction is not. When conflict emerges, whether from sin, misunderstanding, or competing needs, deliberate conservation measures can preserve the relational heart. Separating the relationship from the conflict prevents task conflicts from turning into relationship conflicts. Resuscitating the relationship through repair attempts interrupts cycles of negativity and reinforces the relational bond. Addressing deeper needs transforms conflict into an avenue for growth and intimacy.

The crocodile may attack, but the heart can be saved; relationships need not fall victim to disagreement. Instead, they may emerge stronger—evidence that even in the face of contention, peace remains possible.

The post Disagreement: Three Steps toward Relationship Conservation appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

In a Latter-day Saint meeting I attended two  years ago on September 17, we sang patriotic hymns and marked Constitution Day. To my surprise, many young single adults didn’t realize the significance of the date.

In comparison to Independence Day, Constitution Day isn’t celebrated at all. Especially for Latter-day Saints, this is unfortunate. Many doctrines from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are directly connected to the Constitution. President Dallin H. Oaks has taught, “The United States Constitution is unique because God revealed that He ‘established’ it ‘for the rights and protection of all flesh’ (Doctrine and Covenants 101:77; see also verse 80).” Why is the Constitution so important?

Second, the constitution presupposes a clear-eyed view of human nature, one we find illustrated and explained in scripture. The Old Testament is replete with examples of peoples, kings, and nations repeatedly falling into sin and pride. In the Doctrine and Covenants, we read: “We have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all men, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, they will immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion” (D&C 121:39).

Because humans are fallen and have a tendency to misuse power, government should be structured so that bad actors have a hard time oppressing others. The checks-and-balances system among the three branches of government outlined in the Constitution allows human nature to be used against itself. Instead of relying on the goodwill of leaders, the three-branch government relies on the fact that each branch of government will become jealous of the other’s power, and “check” the other. In a way, the problem becomes the solution. 

“Ambition is one of the more ungovernable passions of the human heart,” John Adams wrote. “The love of power is insatiable and uncontrollable. There is danger from all men. The only maxim of the free government ought to be to trust no man living with power to endanger the public liberty.”

When humans ignore or deny this tendency, tyrants have an opening. Many revolutions result in another tyrant. The perpetrators of the French Revolution were upset by the aristocracy’s abuse of power, but they themselves became abusers of power.

Because of fallen human nature, it’s remarkable that our system of government has lasted as long as it has. Our ingenious system has stayed in operation longer than any other government in the world with a written charter. This is because the Constitution relies on the realities of human nature demonstrated through scripture and historical reflection.

Latter-day Saints believe in a war in heaven, where Satan rebelled because he wanted to destroy the agency of man (Moses 4:3). “The warfare is continued in mortality in the conflict between right and wrong,” the Bible Dictionary entry under War in Heaven reads, “between the gospel and false principles, etc. The same contestants and the same issues are doing battle, and the same salvation is at stake.”

We came to earth under God’s plan of agency, where Jesus Christ’s atonement enables us to make choices for ourselves, instead of being forced or excused by the lack of law or consequence. “Choosing” to follow God wouldn’t matter much if we were forced to do it by Satan or an earthly tyrant. As Princeton’s Robert P. George argues, authentic religious belief “cannot, by its very nature, be established by coercion.”

God cares about government and how we are governed. He cares about whether government leaders or voters desire to seek to exercise unrighteous dominion over others, even under the guise of noble political pursuits. The Book of Mormon teaches, “Because all men are not just, it is not expedient that ye should have a king or kings to rule over you” (Mosiah 29:16). The Book of Mormon also outlines the tendencies governments have toward collapsing because of corruption.

The signing of the Constitution was a great victory for moral agency. God established the constitution so that no man “should be in bondage one to another” (D&C 101:79). Under its principles, no one political leader can gain control of a whole nation. While there have been varieties of corruption from the founding of the nation to today, our system still operates with those same three branches of government.

If you have the capacity to eat a cookie on National Cookie Day, you likely have the capacity to pick up a pocket constitution this September 17 and give it a read. It’s striking to see how the checks and balances were designed to work, and how carefully the founders limited federal power. At the very least, say a prayer to God thanking Him for the wise men He raised up and continues to raise up. The Constitution remains one of the great blessings of our time.

The post The Constitution Was Built on Human Weakness, Not Idealism appeared first on Public Square Magazine.