When a father and daughter vote differently

I was walking home from my favorite doughnut shop when my father told me he was voting for Donald Trump. A quick “Hello, miss you!” phone call stretched into a three-hour, high-pitched political/theological debate about the then-Republican presidential candidate. By the time we hung up, I’d lost all appetite for the doughnut.

That night, I mulled over our conversation: Why is it that I can reasonably and calmly listen to strangers explaining why they voted for Trump, yet burst into emotional flames with the person I love most? It upset and perplexed me that the parent who raised me with the values and faith I now share would vote for someone who raked my personal conscience. This disagreement wasn’t just about picking a U.S. president—it struck a sensitive part of us that’s intertwined with our conscience, our worldview, our identity.

My father and I have different life experiences—I am a single, millennial journalist living in a dense liberal city, with friends of various races and ideological stripes. He is a 60-year-old married pastor living in suburban Virginia, surrounded by a community of fellow Asian-American immigrants. But we share the same temper and wit, so when our opinions conflict, sparks fly—and we clashed hard over this election: I voted third-party; he voted Trump. Emotions roiled, voices sharpened, and we preached at each other instead of listening to one another.

And there lay our fundamental problem: Whatever my father said, I unconsciously added between his words my stereotype of pro-Trumpers, and then got mad when he did the same to me with his image of Never Trumpers. No wonder we couldn’t have a calm, effective discussion. We weren’t eager just to be heard and understood—we wanted to drag each other out of a “wrong” worldview.

On the evening of Inauguration Day, I facilitated a 90-minute discussion among 13 conservative Christian women from three different generations. (See “A Great Divide,” the cover story in the latest issue of WORLD Magazine.) I reminded the participants that despite our ideological differences, we still share the same beliefs, the same first love, and the same eternity—that God will one day rule His Kingdom forever in perfect righteousness and love. I then quoted Romans 15:5-6: “May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

I was really preaching at myself. During the debate with my father, I had perpetuated the stereotype of an overzealous, self-righteous millennial with my tone and expression. It was less an attitude of “Please hear me out,” and more, “You know nothing, abba.” Oh, such disrespect, such arrogance! And my father didn’t hesitate pointing that out to me: “Daughter, you don’t have to agree. But at least humble yourself, listen, and learn.” I kept quiet then, bristling yet knowing he had a point.

Somehow we judge the opposing side’s perspective as wrong, ignorant, or even harmful to the Church, when Scripture allows us to have personal latitude in matters where the Bible isn’t clear.

Later, my daily devotion landed me on 1 Corinthians 8, in which Paul exhorts us to lay aside our personal freedoms and judgments for the sake of building up others: “‘Knowledge’ puffs up, but love builds up.” My father and I love each other, but feeling love doesn’t automatically equal tangible actions of love through empathy, humility, and respect—those virtues take more intentional practice and discipline, which I lacked. Why can’t I set aside my pride, my ideologies, my need to be “right” and “heard” for the sake of love and unity, which gives God great glory and delight? Instead, somehow we judge the opposing side’s perspective as wrong, ignorant, or even harmful to the Church, when Scripture allows us to have personal latitude in matters where the Bible isn’t clear.

As facilitator of the Inauguration Day discussion, I was forced to keep silent and actively listen to the various viewpoints that diverged from mine. As I listened, I sensed that though these women voted differently for different reasons, they shared the same genuine desire to honor God and love others well. We all prayed for discernment during the election—and since the Spirit dwelling in us is One, perhaps God is fine with us voting according to our own conscience and judgment. Perhaps it is even good that we voted differently, so we can enrich and sharpen each other’s limited perspectives.

Yes, some tension arose during the discussion, particularly when the women brought up Trump’s sexual assault scandals. Yet toward the end of the discussion, one self-proclaimed “biggest advocate” of Trump gushed, “I love every single one of you. I want to be friends with you all. There is nothing that anyone said that I disagree with. I’m hopeful and I’m on my knees praying.” That night, we gathered as sisters in Christ, then returned to our respective prayer closets—still holding different views, still eternal sisters, and still praying for the nation, the world, the Kingdom.