Reality Unfiltered: The Price We Pay — A Post-Election Reflection on Morality, Division, and the Soul of a Nation

The Philippine elections have come and gone, but the dust hasn't really settled. If anything, it has stirred up more than just political outcomes—it has exposed wounds we didn’t know were still bleeding. Homes have grown silent. Friendships have ended. Families once close now walk on eggshells around each other, if they speak at all.

It’s painful to witness how politics has become more than just a civic duty—it has turned into an identity war. People no longer debate; they destroy. What once were respectful disagreements have now become personal attacks. It’s no longer about choosing the best leaders; it's about proving the other side wrong—at any cost.

But after all the mudslinging and the deafening noise of the campaigns, something even more disturbing happens: the very same people—candidates and supporters alike—march into churches, hands lifted high in thanksgiving. Social media is suddenly flooded with Bible verses and captions about “God’s will” and “answered prayers.” There’s singing, smiling, praising—as if nothing questionable occurred. As if nothing dirty was done. As if church attendance can cleanse away the means as long as the ends feel like victory.

What happened to our conscience? Our sense of truth? Our moral compass?

So many lose their values and integrity during election season, and somehow, it’s become normalized. The name of the game now is “strategy” even if it means bribery, deception, and character assassination. And the saddest part? Society just shrugs.

“Ganyan talaga.” Or in English, “That’s just how it is.” A simple phrase—shrugged off, spoken casually, almost dismissively. Yet behind it lies a dangerous resignation, a surrender to the idea that corruption, dishonesty, and division are somehow normal, inevitable, even acceptable. It’s the language of a people who’ve grown tired of hoping for better, and have settled instead for survival.

But what do we really gain from all of this?

Do we actually feel real happiness after severing ties with friends or family over political rivalry? Is there true peace in winning an argument but losing a relationship? What is the goal—power, pride, the illusion of being right?

If the cost of our convictions is love and charity, then perhaps it’s not conviction but ego we’re defending.

We claim to be the only Christian nation in Asia. And yet, we tolerate corruption as if it were a political strategy. We wear our faith like a badge on Sunday, only to weaponize our words online on Monday. We kneel in prayer, but refuse to extend grace to those who disagree with us. We praise God for our candidate’s victory, while remaining blind to the moral compromises that got us there.

If only kindness and humility guided our choices. If only public service truly meant service, and not self-promotion. If only our churches were filled not just with attendees, but with hearts broken by truth, ready to be reformed by grace.

But alas, human nature is often tempted toward pride, tribalism, and convenience. The world teaches us to win at all costs, to outshout rather than understand, to tear down rather than build up. And we have, far too often, obeyed.

Yet it doesn’t have to end there.

Maybe we can’t change an entire nation overnight. Maybe corruption and division won’t vanish after one election. But we can change ourselves. We can begin by choosing to live with consistency—praying with sincerity, speaking with kindness, voting with integrity, and disagreeing without hate.

It starts with one person. One family. One community refusing to conform to the moral decay that has become “normal.”

As St. Paul wrote:

“Do not conform yourselves to this age but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and pleasing and perfect.”(Romans 12:2)

We owe it to ourselves. We owe it to the next generation. And we owe it to the God many of us claim to worship—not just with our words, but with our lives.

Let’s stop pretending righteousness on Sunday if we will not pursue justice and mercy the rest of the week. Let our worship be not just in song, but in truth and in action. Because a nation will only be as honest as its people, and a people only as faithful as what they allow themselves to become—especially when no one is watching.

A Prayer for Our Nation

Lord God,

We come before You—wounded, divided, and tired from the noise of the world.

We confess the times we’ve chosen pride over peace, politics over people, and ego over truth.

Heal the relationships we’ve broken.

Heal the nation we’ve neglected.

Teach us again how to love one another—not just those who agree with us, but especially those who don’t.

May our hearts not be hardened by power or poisoned by bitterness.

Give us courage to stand for what is right, even when it is unpopular,

And the humility to admit when we are wrong, even when it is difficult.

Raise up leaders who fear You more than they fear man.

And raise up citizens who choose conscience over convenience.

Transform us, Lord—not just our laws, but our lives.

Let this nation reflect not just our politics, but Your mercy.

In Your holy name we pray,

Amen.

Peace be with you.