Skip those houses….

The recent report of a federal official directing disaster relief workers to skip homes displaying Trump signs after Hurricane Milton is a powerful example of how deeply political divides are shaping our interactions. An act of incredible prejudicial exclusion based on political beliefs—one that withheld disaster aid from people simply because of their political leanings—speaks to the troubling level of partisanship seeping into every corner of society. Although this official was eventually dismissed, it’s unsettling that partisan judgment can influence what should be neutral, humanitarian work. And this phenomenon extends well beyond politics.

In the arts and academia where I work (and mostly just observe), which were once bastions of dialogue and diversity of thought, we increasingly see a dominant narrative that leans heavily toward progressive ideals, often dismissing or arrogantly ridiculing traditional values. This has alienated many artists and audiences with conservative or traditional perspectives, creating a cultural divide that mirrors the political one. Where once the arts drew in audiences from across the spectrum, they’re now at risk of becoming echo chambers. Viewers, readers, and students who feel unwelcome or caricatured by modern portrayals are turning away from mainstream art forms, retreating to niche spaces and the myriad online platforms that align with their values. Just as political divides have created separate, insular worlds, the arts sector is also becoming more fragmented.

Historically, some of the greatest artistic projects have emerged when artists from opposing ideologies came together and joined forces, demonstrating that a diversity of thought can drive incredible creativity. Consider the 1980s musical “Les Miserables,” which depicts the conflict between revolutionary idealists and the established authority. The show’s creators came from various, and very different backgrounds and political beliefs, however they collaborated to tell a universal story of human resilience and redemption that continues to captivate audiences. It drew in people from all walks of life by telling a story that spoke to interconnected and shared experiences rather than isolating one group. Its focus on the universal themes of justice, faith, love, over the smaller and less important ideological specifics, made it a touchstone for audiences with differing worldviews.

Film has similarly brought together artists from vastly different perspectives. Movies like The Killing Fields (1984), directed by Roland Joffé, brought a French anti-Vietnam War leftist and a conservative Cambodian survivor of the Khmer Rouge genocide together to tell a harrowing story of friendship and survival under authoritarian terror. Their spectacularly differing political views about the Vietnam War added depth and nuance to the storytelling, resulting in a film that reached, and reaches across ideological divides to focus again, on the more powerful and larger ideas of a shared humanity.

Or consider The Godfather trilogy, created by Francis Ford Coppola, a liberal filmmaker, and Mario Puzo, whose themes embraced traditional family and honor codes alongside critiques of America’s “melting pot” myth. Though from divergent viewpoints, they explored both the value and flaws of these mostly Italian, but also universal family traditions in a way that resonated deeply with viewers across political and cultural backgrounds. They made art that didn’t alienate or ridicule traditional values but portrayed them authentically, capturing a wide-ranging audience.

Dance has also thrived when blending divergent ideologies. Modern dance, which emerged as a rebellious response to the strictures of ballet, often brought together choreographers who embraced change and those who respected classical techniques. The works of Martha Graham (of which I have been blessed to learn about and recently been exposed to), for example, frequently merged these contrasting approaches, as her collaborators and dancers included traditionalists and avant-garde thinkers. Together, they pushed boundaries without discarding the past, creating a new, hybrid form that could appeal to both progressives and traditionalists alike.

Unfortunately, today’s arts institutions and academia increasingly lean heavily into a single perspective, often angrily mocking and pushing away traditional viewpoints and discouraging those who hold them from participating. We see theaters, galleries, and even university curricula espousing only progressive narratives while deriding and ignoring more conservative ones. For instance, movies and series frequently portray people of faith as hypocrites or traditional families as backward and stupid, sidelining these characters as caricatures instead of three-dimensional people. This approach doesn’t create dialogue—it alienates a large part of the audience, driving them away from the mainstream and toward separate spaces where their values are respected.

This heavy-handed approach has a clear impact: audiences are beginning to “vote with their feet,” choosing to avoid movies, theater, and art they feel mocks or misrepresents them. People who value tradition are turning to independent films, local theaters, and online platforms that reflect their own views and perspectives. Much like our polarized politics, we now have a polarized popular culture, with audiences withdrawing to isolated artistic spheres where they feel seen and respected. The arts, meant to be a bridge, are at risk of becoming almost uncrossable rivers or walls.

If we look at the story of Jesus, his followers offer a compelling counter-narrative to today’s divides. Jesus drew a diverse group together, spanning tax collectors, zealots, Roman soldiers, Jewish priests, and Gentile converts. His message transcended political affiliation and cultural backgrounds, and gender focusing instead on a shared vision of compassion, forgiveness, and connection. Matthew, a tax collector working for the Roman Empire, and Simon the Zealot, who opposed that same Empire, found common ground in Jesus’ teachings. This diversity enriched his movement and made it resilient, welcoming, and transformative, a community where differences could coexist under a greater purpose.

In our arts and academic fields, we would benefit from embracing this approach. Instead of becoming strongholds for a single ideology, they could instead serve as platforms for dialogue, where conflicting ideas are not only welcome but are seen as crucial to a robust, meaningful discourse. Only by including a variety of perspectives, including traditional and conservative voices, can we hope to create art that resonates deeply with a wide range of people.

This isn’t just about including traditional perspectives for the sake of fairness; it’s about recognizing that our society’s richness comes from its diversity of thought. Art has the power to build empathy, but only if it tells honest, multi-faceted stories that don’t reduce people to stereotypes or punchlines. If we keep marginalizing traditional views in favor of ideological purity, we risk losing that power. We’ll have a more homogenous, less challenging, and ultimately less compelling culture.

The arts and academia should challenge assumptions, not reinforce them. They should create spaces where people of all backgrounds and beliefs can explore and learn, where conflict sparks growth, and where diversity is more than a buzzword but a genuine goal. As our democracy itself becomes increasingly fragmented, the arts have an opportunity—and a responsibility—to serve as a model for the unity we need.

For the health of our society, let’s commit to seeing one another in all our complexity, both in the classroom and on the stage. Only by doing so can we fulfill the true purpose of art and education: to illuminate, to connect, and to create a world where all voices contribute to the beauty of the whole.

I feel deeply the weight of our moral issues and see those with whom I disagree as deeply and tragically wrong. However in my weakness this way it is only when I embrace the transforming truth of the gospel that I can see others as God sees them. It is only then that I can try to be a cultural missionary who speaks the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15) rather than a cultural warrior who ridiculously must always defeat his enemies.

Only Jesus can turn any heart inflamed by animosity into a heart empowered by grace. Only he can inspire us to choose forgiveness over vengeance. Only he can replace the cycle of retribution with the joy of community. Pope Francis was right:

The joy of the gospel fills the hearts and lives of all who encounter Jesus. Those who accept his offer of salvation are set free from sin, sorrow, inner emptiness, and loneliness. With Christ joy is constantly born anew.