The first week of the second Trump administration felt like a year. By his team’s own admission, they used a strategy of shock-and-awe to “flood the zone” with executive orders and policy decisions.
I’ll admit that the sheer volume of his actions — ranging from cruel and immoral to outrageous — has often left me reeling, unsure how best to respond. Trump pardoned Jan. 6 rioters, revoked security clearances of his critics, ended government DEI programs, proclaimed there are only two genders, ended the policy barring ICE from conducting immigration raids at schools and churches, withdrew the U.S. from the Paris Climate Agreement and the World Health Organization, and attempted to end birthright citizenship — and that was just Inauguration Day. The onslaught continued as he removed internal government watchdogs, fired those who’d conducted investigations against him, stopped foreign assistance for three months, and froze trillions of dollars in federal grants and loans — only to rescind the order later. Some of these actions, while discouraging, are well within his power as president; others represent a stretch of democratic norms — or an abuse of his authority.
This chaos is, of course, a core feature of his governing style, not a glitch. As top Trump ally and former White House chief strategist Steve Bannon put it: “It’s working. It’s just stunning to me what they’re doing, and it’s not getting covered because it’s too much. They’re overwhelming the system.”
And it is overwhelming. As we know, these actions have dire and far-reaching consequences: We saw aid organizations, schools, state governments, hospitals, and nonprofits in turmoil as they tried to figure out what to do when their funding was frozen. We see the fear in members of migrant and LGBTQ+ communities. Resisting the urge to panic is hard.
But here’s the thing: Provoking a sense of disorientation, paralysis, numbness, fear, grief, or despair is the goal of the “flood the zone” strategy. We know that authoritarian movements of the past and present thrive on people feeling despair. Trump hopes to exploit a demoralized and overwhelmed opposition to quickly accomplish as much of his agenda as he can get away with.
We don’t have to respond in the way Trump and his allies hope. As we process our feelings about horrible headlines, we can instead use that outrage to join efforts to block many of the most egregious policies all while casting a very different vision for America’s future: a healthy, inclusive democracy that prioritizes the common good and enables everyone to thrive.
I won’t pretend that’s easy; turning outrage to action takes effort. But our faith reminds us that no earthly regime has the final word and points us to the great cloud of witnesses (Hebrews 12) who’ve worked to bring this world closer to the Beloved Community. These and other reminders from our faith can anchor our hope and reinforce our resilience. Leaning into my faith in this moment helps to remind and convict me that our faith is built for this moment.
In the days ahead, I’m committed to staying informed — but doing so in moderation. I fully recognize the temptation to try to follow every event, every notification of “BREAKING NEWS” that comes across our screens. It’s important to remember that there’s an entire “attention economy” out there competing for our eyeballs, our clicks, and yes, our outrage. None of us is immune — and yes, I say this as the president of an organization that offers plenty of digital content!
For me, news moderation means turning off notifications and rationing my media intake to the early morning and only a few times during the course of the day. I’m also trying harder to avoid getting sucked into reacting to the Trump administration’s latest outrageous or offensive action. At Sojourners, we’ve created the Truth and Action Roundup to help with the overwhelm. It’s a weekly newsletter that boils down the essential news, along with a few concrete opportunities to take action and spiritual reflection to sustain us all.
And that last part — spiritual sustenance — shouldn’t be an afterthought. As we consume so much news that can trouble us, it is important to stay rooted in scripture that speaks directly to this challenge. These include that God “gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak (Isaiah 40:29) and reassures us to be strong and courageous, reminding us we are never alone (Deuteronomy 31:6).
While these reassurances can sometimes feel frustrating, particularly when God’s presence feels distant or when our prayers remain unanswered, now is a time to lean into whatever spiritual practices draw you closer to God’s presence. I often use a simple breathing exercise I learned from Richard Rohr centered around meditating around Psalm 46:10 that has helped bring me a sense of peace in the midst of many storms. I’m also grateful for my church’s annual 40-day fast which has enabled me to pray with and feel connected with thousands of other Christians who are trying to seek God first in this tumultuous season, believing that when we seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, then all things will be added unto us (Matthew 6:33). Staying rooted in our faith will help us show up in what will be a marathon and not only a sprint.
To counter feelings of powerlessness, I’m also reminding myself there’s a lot of good work already happening. Many of Trump’s most extreme executive orders have faced immediate pushback in the form of court challenges that will delay, narrow, or outright halt the administration’s efforts. The birthright-citizenship executive order, for instance, was immediately blocked by a judge calling Trump’s attempt to redefine the 14th amendment “blatantly unconstitutional.” Likewise, the freeze in administering federal grants and loans — while reckless — was challenged in court and ultimately rescinded. While there’s no guarantee that courts will always rule in the way we believe upholds the common good, they can provide an essential guardrail.
And we are not powerless: Through signing petitions, making phone calls, conducting district visits, writing op-eds, and more you can apply direct pressure on Congress, where a razor thin margin in the House will make it difficult to push through much of the Trump administration’s agenda that will increasingly require congressional action. Right now, we have significant power to block harmful legislation, for example, Trump’s proposed cuts to social programs such as Medicaid, SNAP, and WIC to pay for tax cuts that primarily benefit the rich will be unpopular and cause real harm to many of his supporters.
My favorite metaphor in scripture compares the health of the church to that of the human body with many parts, as the Apostle Paul writes, “Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ” (1 Corinthians 12:12). Though written about the church, I think this text applies equally to our country and the world. We’re interdependent, all with different roles to play as we fulfill the biblical injunction to protect people who are threatened by policies that will dismantle our refugee and asylum system, break families apart, eviscerate programs that provide a lifeline to struggling families, reverse progress in addressing the climate crisis, and so much more. Our roles won’t be the same all the time, and that’s okay; that’s the point.
This is a season in which we need some people to give more generously to shore up organizations working to resist and build, while others give their time and talents to offer aid to those who are vulnerable. We need some folks to build deeper relationships and engage in bridge-building efforts, while others advocate and engage in nonviolent resistance. We can each contribute in the way we are best equipped to do so, and together all of us — a growing movement committed to justice and peace— plays its part to move us all forward.
Though it may feel unified now, the Trump administration is all but certain to falter due to many of its own divisions and excesses, including a feuding coalition that includes Christian nationalists, ultra-conservatives, tech billionaires, and white nationalists. The administration’s backtracking on a freeze on federal grants is one clear, recent example. As these failures become evident, I hope it will cause more and more people to hunger for justice and thirst for righteousness.
Until then, we practice resistance by refusing to completely tune out, become demoralized, or fall into despair. Instead, as I was reminded at a recent retreat with other faith leaders, “Let us not grow weary in doing good, because in good season we will reap a harvest if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9).
Rev. Adam Russell Taylor is president of Sojourners and author of A More Perfect Union: A New Vision for Building the Beloved Community. Follow him on X @revadamtaylor.
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