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By John Pavlovitz
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The podcast currently has 659 episodes available.
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A vote is loud. Whether that vote is cast joyfully or with trepidation or begrudgingly or without all the information or as a protest, it makes the same bold statements:This is my choice.I am with this person.I consent to their conduct.I co-sign their actions.I endorse them. A vote doesn’t have qualifiers or caveats or escape clauses. It simply says Yes or No. And as we’re witnessing a rapid and expansive dismantling of our nation’s systems, a complete mockery of our Cabinet positions, a pervasive chaos enveloping everything from our social services to our healthcare to our Military to our essential needs to our standing in the world, the one question I keep wanting to ask those of you who voted for him is: Is this really what you wanted? Did you want prices on groceries and gas to rise stratospherically as he taunts our long-time allies?Did you want a senseless and unwinnable war of choice in Iran that is depleting our financial resources and throwing the world into unnecessary turmoil?Did you want to live under an oppressive police surveillance state, to have every intimate aspect of your life monitored by the Government, to have surrendered any sense of privacy or personal freedom?Did you intend for immigrant families to be terrorized in their workplaces, schools, and homes, with no regard for due process or for legal and human rights? Did you vote for the Epstein Files to be hidden from view, protecting the absolute most vile predators and pedophiles?Did you vote for the selling off and destruction of protected natural lands, for concentration camps, for screaming, water-guzzling data centers swallowing up your community? Did you vote for the elimination of programs that provide veterans their benefits, poor children a school lunch, the elderly their hard-earned retirement?Did you want us alienated from the world and removed from every global humanitarian and diplomatic partnership we have participated in for decades?Did you vote for massive, opulent ballrooms, gaudy vanity arches, ego-stroking building alterations, and wasteful reflecting pool renovations? Is this what you voted for?Because if this isn’t what you voted for, you need to be vocal now. Silence is not a luxury anyone can afford in days like these. To be silent now, after voting so loudly, is irresponsible and unhelpful.Your silence doesn’t protect refugees or avoid disastrous Cabinet appointees or pay treatment bills for the now uninsured.It doesn’t shield marginalized communities from hate crimes or protect America’s farmers or care for the disabled or challenge the President’s flagrant nepotism. Your silence doesn’t encourage lawmakers to push against their party even if they feel they should, and it doesn’t show solidarity with activists in the streets spending themselves to advocate for equality and justice.It doesn’t discourage the President and his spokespeople from rolling out an unrelenting stream of lies or attacking those doing real, Constitution-guarding journalism.It doesn’t hold those in the highest levels of power and influence accountable for disregarding every procedure, rule of law, and safeguard established to ensure that every citizen is protected from those governing them. Your silence doesn’t do anything right now but allow you to divorce yourself from your vote, to avoid any accountability for the man you’ve chosen, and to perpetuate the erratic, reckless, criminal behavior that is endangering every human being here. What this means, friend, is that if you are indeed regretting your vote in any way, this would be the time to stand up and say so. Millions of us are out here doing the work of pushing back and speaking for the marginalized and poor and disregarded (including Trump voters), and we’re marching, and we’re calling our elected officials, and we’re busting our butts to keep our Constitution intact.And all the while, the narrative the President is selling is that this is a partisan, Liberal Media-created mirage. He’s attempting to manufacture a political civil war via social media to divert attention from the insidious stuff happening right now that should be horrifying all of us.And every day you say nothing, our Republic is more and more vulnerable, more and more compromised, more and more in danger of losing the very essence of its freedoms and liberties. All this to say, I’m really sorry for your embarrassment or your guilt or your feeling foolish, but even more concerned about your silence. I hear that many people are leaving MAGA, that they are tired of this waste, this recklessness, this greed, this incompetence. Maybe you’re one of those people. I just hope you won’t leave quietly. Your vote in 2024, for whatever reason you cast it, was loud. And if you regret that vote or if you don’t consent to what you are seeing from this man and this Administration, your volume and your vote now is necessary, too. Please join those of us who are resisting together because we love America more than a political party, because this isn’t about any of us; it’s about all of us. Please speak, and speak loudly. The Beautiful Mess by John Pavlovitz is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnpavlovitz.substack.com/subscribe

Mornings are strange these days. The sedative haze of sleep slowly begins to lift, and my conscious mind starts taking inventory and assembling the data and reporting back its initial findings: I’m in bed… I’m awake… I’m alive… It’s Wednesday… But most of the time, that’s about as far as I get when I am suddenly assaulted with another, far more sobering realization: I’m in America… … s**t. And, in a disorienting few seconds, I’m violently ripped from any sense of peace or rest by the lengthy litany of atrocities from the previous day: the Constitutional crises, the acts of unthinkable brutality, the falling away of systemic safeguards, the metastasizing mass of sycophantic cultists. A jolt of adrenaline comes flooding in as my barely awakened body senses imminent danger without me needing to do a thing other than remember the lawlessness of our President, the complicity of his party, the bent knees of the billionaires, the genuflecting of the Church, the capitulation of the Press, and the snarling brainwashed rabble of once-reasonable, decent human beings with whom I used to feel at home. And just like that, mere minutes after returning to the waking world, I want to go back to sleep, already exhausted, already disheartened, already grief-stricken. It gives me absolutely no joy to say that on most days now, I hate waking up in this country. I confess to regularly daydreaming about being an expat: of putting new roots into foreign soil and reclaiming somewhere else what it feels like we’ve lost here. I find myself imagining what it would be like to greet the day in another country, someplace where racism wasn’t celebrated, where empathy wasn’t a character flaw, where corruption wasn’t so prolific, where hatred didn’t find such safe harbor from its leaders and their disciples. Yet, I know the reality is that some of this is me lamenting the devil I know: that while seeing America with a microscope and the rest of the world with a telescope, my vision is not as clear as it could be. Yes, there are certainly a myriad of places on this planet where gun violence is not ubiquitous, where predators are not protected, where illness does not bring bankruptcy, where Science is not assailed, where religion is not legislated, where diversity is not reviled, where education is not under siege, and where democracy is not evaporating. But these places have their own dangers and demons, and both time and proximity would surely reveal them. So, while I do hate waking up in this country and I do dream of waking up in another one, perhaps it isn’t about my geography changing but about me changing the geography I find myself in. Maybe I don’t want to wake up in another country but in a more just, more beautiful, more compassionate version of this one; an America that embodies the greatest of its aspirations, one that more fully becomes what the songs and anthems promised we could be, one that would be worth someone else inheriting. I’m not going to pretend I’m sure that such a place is still possible. It may be that the systemic damage we’ve sustained in the last eighteen months is irreparable. Our collective bloodstream may be so poisoned with tribalism and prejudice that we cannot recover. The unholy marriage of Church and State may indeed be too far along to drive a wedge between. But I suppose that’s why they call it a dream. And while I am beginning yet another day here exhausted, disheartened, and grief-stricken, I am going to find a way to step out into it and do all I can with the light and the hours I have before darkness and sleep arrive. And if millions of us all do the same, maybe one morning in the future (maybe in November), we will find ourselves greeting the dawn not with sadness but with jubilation, not with dread but with hope. Right now, I hate waking up in this America. I want to wake up in a better one. Do you struggle with the reality of the nation you wake up in? Is it difficult to find the resolve to keep going? How are you holding the tension between wanting to leave and wanting to stay and fight? Let me know in the comments. The Beautiful Mess by John Pavlovitz is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnpavlovitz.substack.com/subscribe

Well, Trump supporters, I have to admit, you sure won this one. Your guy really handed our rear ends to us this time. I can see why you’re pounding your chest and dunking on us liberals on social media about this Lake America business. You all finally put Canada and all of us woke idiots in our places. I mean, sure, you can barely afford groceries at this point. And yeah, even if you happen to be able to, there’s a high likelihood that what you eat will kill you, shred your stomach lining, or leave you with explosive diarrhea. No worries, though; at least you’ll be able to get the absolute bare minimum of healthcare that you’ll need to get a second mortgage on your house to afford, providing you aren’t underwater on the first one. Hopefully you don’t miss any work, though, because your PTO is basically nonexistent, but hey, you get to taunt all us leftist losers with a big ol’ “Lake America” middle finger. That’s gotta cushion the blow of the stratospheric bills that you’re going home to (Enjoy filling the gas tank on your F-150, by the way). The important thing is that you’re winning. Yes, our Federal Government has weaponized our armed forces against entire cities, inciting violence, disrupting the local economy, and terrorizing innocent human beings for exercising their freedoms of speech, expression, and assembly. No matter, those elemental, Constitutionally guaranteed personal liberties and many others are essentially null and void at this point anyway. And sure, the separation between Church and State has now been rendered nonexistent, with a religion of compulsion now being legislated for tens of millions of people who do not adhere to those teachings. And yeah, our Government is enabling not one, but two violent, genocidal eradications of entire populations. Our systems of education, human health, and national security are under the control of unqualified, ill-prepared, and mentally unstable grifters whose allegiances are to a person and not our Constitution. The President has declared war on half of the population of this nation, using the power of his platform to perpetuate lies, stoke division, sow chaos, and escalate conflict. We’re also now alienated from nearly all our global allies, and decades of carefully crafted partnerships have been destroyed in a matter of months. And yes, your kids will be more susceptible to preventable illness, the food you’ll be eating will have fewer safeguards, your wages will continue to decrease, and your personal freedoms will gradually vanish. But the bottom line, MAGA friends, is that you’ve won the war over a body of water’s branding (too bad you can’t say the same about the never-ending war in Iran that you’re currently paying out the nose for). With your party controlling the presidency, Congress, and the Supreme Court, America must now be as great as you’ve been telling us for years that it would be, and so you have no cause to be concerned or reason to be miserable. You must be happy right now with the economy, your paycheck, your healthcare premiums, food safety, the level of gun violence, the wars of choice you’re funding, and the prospects you have for growth, health, career advancement, and financial opportunities. So, congratulations, Trump supporters, you’ve renamed a lake—and all it’s cost you is a functioning government, a working democracy, human rights, national peace, economic stability, affordable groceries, affordable healthcare, qualified leaders, and global standing. Personally, as a card-carrying Lib, I feel fully and completely owned. I’m sure all those poor Canadians your guy stuck it to this week feel truly defeated, as they retreat to their peaceful nation where they have affordable groceries, excellent healthcare, a living wage, national pride, global respect, and leaders who aren’t felons and rapists. I hope your Lake America t-shirt makes you feel like the winners you are… The Beautiful Mess by John Pavlovitz is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnpavlovitz.substack.com/subscribe

This should be easy. We are now two years into the most openly corrupt, inept, and relentlessly predatory presidential administration in our nation’s history. We have watched an extremist minority commandeer Congress, the Justice Department, our Military, and the highest court in our nation, mounting an unprecedented repeal of the rights of women, of environmental protections, of voting rights, of elemental liberties. Republican leadership across this country has declared open war on diversity, on education, on the legitimacy of our elections. Our checks and balances are nonfunctioning, our systems of protection have been compromised—and we are warring with one another. We should be easily coalescing around our collective values, but we are not.The upcoming midterms should be the slam dunk of the century, but they aren’t.We should be rising together to eradicate this fascism en masse, but we’re not. Some establishment Dems are formulating plans to combat rising Democratic Socialist candidates instead of asking why those people and platforms are resonating with voters, or what might be learned about their party’s weaknesses. Far-Left activists incessantly push out strident, baby-with-bathwater objections to moderate candidates, disqualifying them for past behavior, one-time verbal gaffes, single-issue stances, or previous political positions. Longtime party moderates are operating as if the former rules of engagement still exist, too paralyzed by fear and scarcity to do anything but what they’ve always done, while burn-it-all-down anarchists want to turn a massive tanker on a dime without acknowledging the diversity of thought among the voting bloc they seek and need. From the center to the fringes, we liberals war with potential allies, allowing no gray space of compromise, no personal evolution for people, and no possibility of future alignment with those who do not currently check every possible box. In doing so, we passionately partner in the work of our adversaries. We easily find ourselves violently fighting with one another over matters that are in fact trivial, when compared with all that hangs in the balance. Put simply, the Left has a purity problem, and if we don’t get over it, it’s going to destroy us. Meanwhile, despite some fracturing in the MAGA monolith, the other side is simply circling the wagons, making concessions, consolidating power, and gaining traction—spirituality and morality and virtue be damned. This is why we’re where we are today. For all their sermonizing, Conservatives have never allowed their personal morality to get in the way of a political win. That has been the story for the past few years here: millions of people on the Right trading in their personal and religious values for the coming of a kleptocratic kingdom they will all benefit from. They have sacrificed their individual convictions on the altar of the bigger win, or at least, what seems like victory in the moment. Now, I’m not asking moderates, progressives, liberals, and Left-leaning believers to do that. I’m not suggesting we collectively sell our souls the way our counterparts have. I’m not advocating for a collective treason against what we value. We are different from our political and religious adversaries, precisely because we are more committed to our personal convictions than to purchasing influence.We do stand for something greater than empty pulpit pounding and phony patriotic histrionics about Christianity and America under attack or returning to our days of former supremacist glory.We are driven by moral and spiritual prompts that refuse to align with monsters or horde a consuming power that will corrupt us.We aren’t fueled by a contempt that would snap its fingers and wipe out everyone else. But if we can’t lay down our all-or-nothing, my-candidate-or-no-candidate absolutism and set aside our arrogant virtue to stand shoulder-to-shoulder against a formidable threat, we’re soon going to find ourselves with no voice whatsoever. Longtime rank-and-file Democrats, this is bigger than you.Frustrated Progressives, this is bigger than you.Democratic Socialist advocates, this is bigger than you.Defiant Third Party holdouts, this is bigger than you.Exhausted abstainers, this is bigger than you.Ambivalent moderates of all parties, this is bigger than you.Everybody needs to take a breath, find some humility, and talk to—not at or about one another. We all need to understand how urgent these moments are. We need to stop killing our allies with friendly fire, and we need to discard the inconsequential battles of preference so that we can win the singularly vital war of which we all will prosper. When our Republic is secured, and our essential liberties are restored, then we can go about the necessary and very attainable work of navigating our differences to renovate America into something we all can take pride in, something better than it has been. But if we fail to confront this existential threat because we are distracted and divided by moral litmus tests, lazy squabbling, and performative purity politics, we will have all squandered the moment in front of us. The Right is pushing America to the brink of theocracy and fascism, and we on the Left need to stop helping them. We need to win together because when we win, life and the planet and the future does too. It’s time we pulled ourselves together. The Beautiful Mess by John Pavlovitz is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnpavlovitz.substack.com/subscribe

For many people, the holidays are a time for recognizing our profound fullness: of purposefully dwelling on the abundant overflow we find ourselves in and being grateful for it. For many, our houses and our bellies bulge to capacity and we gleefully overindulge in food and friends and laughter. We fill ourselves to bursting with all the things, the people, and the stuff that make life glorious and make the difficulties bearable. For lots of people, this is a season where they inventory their lives and readily acknowledge all that is good and sweet and right. It is about celebrating presence. But you may not be one of those people. Though you may indeed have so many reasons to feel fortunate and to give thanks, what this season is now marked by more than anything else—is absence. Surrounded by noise and activity and life, your eyes and your heart can’t help but drift to that quiet space that now remains unoccupied; the cruel vacancy of the empty chair. You’re not alone, friend. In fact, though they’re supposed to generate gratitude and deposit peace within us, the holidays often have a way of magnifying separation: of in the middle of all the celebration and thanksgiving reminding us of our incompleteness, our lack, our losses. The empty chair is different for everyone though it is equally intrusive. For some it is a place of a vigil: the persistent hope of a prodigal returning, of a severed tie to soon be repaired, of a long overdue reunion to come. It is a place of painful but patient waiting for what is unlikely, yet still possible. For some the empty chair is a memorial: the stark reminder of what was and no longer is, of that which never will be again. It is a household headstone where we eulogize and grieve and remember; a face we squint to see, a hand we stretch to hold, a voice we strain to hear. For some the chair is a fresh wound: the painful fallout of a brutal battle that we chose or had thrust upon us, one whose aftermath has yielded silence. It is a place of sometimes necessary but still excruciating separation. Political divides, theological impasses, relational fractures, and the realities of mortality all leave us with spaces that we’re trying to come to grips with. This may be the first time the chair has been empty for you or you may have grown quite accustomed to the subtraction. Either way it hurts like hell and I wanted you to know that someone sees you and understands. Now, this would usually be the time when another writer might offer some silver lining goodness to tie everything up in a pretty little bow; some closing reminders about how the empty chair is still a blessing because it reminds us that we had something worth grieving over to begin with. This is the spot where he or she would offer some concluding encouragement regarding the lessons the empty chair teaches us, about living in the moment and being thankful for what we have and about growing through suffering. I’m not going to do that. You’ll learn those lessons and acquire that wisdom and find that healing in your way and in your time—or you won’t. That is the reality of the beautiful mess we find ourselves in. Sometimes restoration happens, sometimes reconciliation comes, and sometimes it just sucks. Right now, I just want you to know that I see your waiting, your grief, and your pain, and that I wait and grieve and hurt too. In that way, we all sit together in this, all gathered around this same incomplete table. Maybe that is all we can offer one another: our compassionate presence in the face of this terrible absence. In this season each of us learns to have fellowship with sadness, to celebrate accompanied by sorrow. This is the paradox of loving and being wounded simultaneously. May we each make peace with the holidays and the empty chairs.What kind of empty chairs are you facing this season? Let me know in the comments. The Beautiful Mess by John Pavlovitz is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit johnpavlovitz.substack.com/subscribe
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