After the Shutdown: Time to Govern with Moral Courage
By Rev. Rebecca Bryan and Rev. Edwin Johnson
Rev. Rebecca Bryan is the senior minister at the First Religious Society Unitarian Universalist in Newburyport. Rev. Edwin Johnson is an Episcopal Priest and the Director of Organizing for Episcopal City Mission headquartered in Boston. Both are community leaders working for statewide equity and justice through the community organizing of the Massachusetts Communities Action Network.
The shutdown may be over, but the damage remains. For millions of families across our communities, the interruption of food assistance, wages, and basic government services was more than a policy dispute—it was a breaking point. Over one million people in Massachusetts saw their SNAP benefits disrupted, putting $240 million a month at risk for families already struggling to make ends meet.
Now, as some members of Congress celebrate a deal and federal workers return to their jobs, our task is not simply to move on. It is to reckon with the moral cost of a system that allows political brinkmanship to come before the needs of the people.
Both parties share responsibility for this failure. Republicans pushed cuts that deepened suffering in the name of “fiscal responsibility.” Democrats issued statements, but too often stood silent when moral clarity was required. Their silence was not compassion—it was complicity.
The shutdown has ended, but the moral disconnect that made it possible continues. Too many leaders debate numbers while families debate dinner—whether to pay rent or buy food, whether to refill a prescription or fill the gas tank. We cannot allow another round of partisan posturing to hold our people hostage again.
In Washington, the latest spending deal was hailed as “The One Big Beautiful Bill.” But beauty should be measured by who benefits, not by how well politicians spin it. Is it beautiful for families who missed meals? For parents who lost childcare support? For returning citizens still struggling to find housing or work?
This legislation may have reopened the government, but it did not reopen the moral imagination of our leaders. It did not change the fact that those with the least bore the greatest pain while those in power kept collecting paychecks.
Our faith traditions—across religions—teach that human dignity is not partisan. Compassion, justice, and truth-telling do not belong to the left or the right. They belong to the people.
We believe a third way is possible: one that centers humanity over hostility, collaboration over competition, and truth over talking points. That third way begins with acknowledging that shutdowns and benefit cuts are not inevitable—they are choices. Choices made by those insulated from the consequences.
Now that the government is open, our elected officials have a new choice to make: to govern with moral courage. That means acting not only to prevent another shutdown, but to repair the damage this one caused—to rebuild trust, restore benefits, and reform a system that treats human suffering as a bargaining chip.
Across Massachusetts, faith leaders did not wait for Washington to act. We fed families, housed neighbors, prayed for peace, and raised our voices for justice. From Boston to Newburyport and to Worcester, and beyond, clergy and community organizers came together to say, “Enough. This is not who we are.”
Faith without works is empty. Policy without justice is the same. The moral leadership already being practiced in our communities must now be matched by the political leadership we deserve in our government.
To Republicans who claim austerity is virtue: your duty is not to donors, but to your neighbors. To Democrats who claim the moral high ground: your silence is noticed. A muted conscience is no better than an absent one.
And to all of us watching: our work is to build something better. We cannot wait for permission to lead with moral clarity. We act because our faith—and our humanity—demand it.
Budgets are moral documents. Shutdowns are moral failures. But both can become moral opportunities—if we choose courage over convenience.
The shutdown may have ended, but the deeper question remains: will we continue to sacrifice our people on the altar of political convenience, or will we finally choose a government that feeds the hungry, heals the divides, and restores dignity to public life?
Let this moment be a turning point. Let it be a beacon to the end of governing by crisis and the beginning of governing by conscience.