Am I the only one who approaches this month of giving thanks grateful that the campaign season is over? I’m guessing not. The multitude of ads has been maddening. The content of the candidates’ commercials has been controversial. The name calling and character attacks has been juvenile. Regardless of what network you choose for your daily diet of news, what’s been served up the past several months has been anything but nourishing. In spite of the outcome of this week’s election, our United States of America will be anything but.

I am reminded of the words of a first century carpenter-turned-rabbi who said, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” Although Abraham Lincoln used that famous line in one of his memorable campaign speeches, it was Jesus of Nazareth who coined the expression. What is true for a family or a congregation of the faithful is also true for a nation. A nation divided is terminally ill.

As I reflect on Jesus’ teaching and values, I’m convinced that the antidote to alienation is understanding, forgiveness and compassion. Divisions are healed as we love our neighbors to the degree we love ourselves and to the degree we treat them the way we desire to be treated. How we engage or distance ourselves from those who see life differently than we do has lasting ramifications. Our ongoing attitude and actions toward our political rivals will impact us as well as them. Active animosity can poison the well of friendship within a family, in a faith community or in a work environment.

In her bestselling book “A Team of Rivals” presidential biographer Doris Kearns Goodwin chronicles how Abraham Lincoln chose men who had run against him in his 1860 campaign to serve in his cabinet. The book focuses on our sixteenth president’s mostly successful attempts to reconcile conflicting personalities and political factions on the path to abolition and victory in the American Civil War.

Acknowledging conflict and conflicting views rather than ignoring them, Lincoln proactively engaged the divisions and challenges he faced. He recognized to what degree cooperation depended on him and then made choices accordingly. Our country’s most popular president was no doubt familiar what Saint Paul wrote to the first century Christians in Rome: If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. (Romans 12:18)

As a man of the cloth who resists addressing political issues from the pulpit, I have come to the conclusion that the results of this year’s election will not thwart the sovereign plan of the Almighty. And in the broad scheme of human history, the individual the Electoral College will select will not matter as much as we might think. A look back at presidents over nearly two-hundred-and-fifty years will bear that out.

Granted, the person who will inhabit the White House for the next four years may or may not be the person whose candidacy you supported. The fact that they will lead from that residence is obviously significant. That person will influence the future direction of our republic. Their personal values and worldview will determine what is prioritized and what is put on the back burner.

All the same it is my personal belief that the person who is about to move into the White House matters less than the individuals who currently live in your house. Our nation’s future ultimately depends on the character qualities being shaped and practiced by you and your family in your neighborhood and in your community. Who you are, how you think, what you say, how you act and how you react will have a far more lasting impact on our nation than the temporary inhabitants of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

You matter more than you may think. As we have been reminded in recent weeks, your vote matters. It is your voice in a democratic republic. But even after all the votes have been tabulated, the fabric of your friendship, faith and compassion is what clothes the future of the nation we love regardless of who is our president.

Guest columnist Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former chaplain at Covenant Living at the Shores in Mercer Island.