No arrogance. No cowardice.

A new game is unfolding on social media among the evangelical commentariat.

It goes something like this: If you, as an evangelical, did not vote for Donald Trump, your job is to gloatingly berate Trump-voting evangelicals for each of the president-elect’s Cabinet picks that run counter to the values of evangelicals, like one of his appointees who is pro-abortion or gay. “We told you so,” will come the voices. “He will embarrass you, and you will have nowhere else to turn because Donald Trump knows he has your vote. Cheap dates, you are.” This group is also prone to criticize D.C. social conservatives as a bunch of craven sellouts for not boldly opposing each appointee who violates evangelical convictions.

Group two is the evangelicals who feel it necessary to stay silent or exuberantly defend and justify each of the president-elect’s appointees. “Trump’s picks will not be perfect,” they will say, “but the alternative in a President Harris would be so much worse.” Group two will offer throat-clearing defenses to distract from the offensiveness of a flawed nominee by noting that while the nominee may be gay or pro-abortion, the area they will oversee has nothing to do with those issues.

May I humbly suggest that the latest imbroglio over evangelicals and Trump is going the wrong way? It’s going to be a long four years if this is how things are going to play out. May I also try to carve out a path forward that some may not have considered?

Before entering academia, I spent a decade working in public policy organizations and think tanks. While I am a moral idealist, I am also a political realist. I’ve watched how the political sausage is made. It’s never pretty, and striking compromises are almost guaranteed. That is hard for evangelicals to hear. We are moral idealists, after all. We see things in clear categories of right and wrong, as we should.

The problem with moral idealism is that it runs headfirst into counterbalancing realities, namely, political opposition. Here’s the political realist position: America is a pro-abortion country. We lament that, but it is the truth. Donald Trump delivered historic wins for pro-lifers in his first administration, and I believe we will see wins in his second administration, too. But Donald Trump is a political animal, and he and his team know that pushing too hard on abortion is a political loser. So, what should we expect from an administration whose core convictions on this issue do not make them passionate champions for life? Instead of calling the administration a bunch of cowards and butchers, what should we call them?

We can say the administration is wrong not to see abortion as the gravest political injustice in American history, but that, friends, will still mean little if the opposing party gets in and seeks to restore Roe and legalize late-term abortion. The Trump administration will be markedly friendlier to social conservatives than a Harris administration would have been.

But here is where we come back to the evangelical rhetorical game mentioned above. Rather than spend the next four years berating the Trump administration when it disappoints evangelicals, why not be an encourager with an aspirational challenge to make? For example, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. would not have been my pick for health and human services secretary because he is pro-abortion. So, what should we do? Should we denounce him as the nominee or try to appeal to RFK Jr.’s better angels and, in good faith, show him why his valid concerns about public health should also lead him to be pro-life? I think the latter.

But that becomes impossible when one side of evangelicals wants to say, “We told you so,” and the other side says, “Nothing to see here.”

My fellow evangelicals, we need to ask ourselves a key question What is the line between arrogantly demonstrating zeal and principle but having a less-than-zero ability to influence the administration versus strategic engagement that could make a real difference within an administration? Political leaders do not listen kindly to zealous critics. They lock them out of the conversation. “Having a seat at the table” is not the end goal of evangelical political engagement. Shrewd engagement for the sake of advancing the common good is. It does not make you a cheap date if you navigate criticism carefully alongside the very noble goal of affecting change. I’m not prepared to call evangelical politicos and socially conservative groups a bunch of lackeys and cowards that others seem to currently imply. They have a job to do that editors and online commentators are in virtually no position to sympathize with. We should also consider that while evangelicals are called to speak truth to power, shrill denunciation should be the exception, not the norm of evangelicalism’s prophetic witness. Speaking truth to power can and should be done confrontationally, though lovingly and with a call toward aspirational betterment. There is a happy medium between being a sycophant and a scold.

But let’s also be clear: A lot of the criticisms and defenses of Donald Trump are not heroic. They are brand management and fan service. Putting everyone on blast and calling evangelicals and social conservatives cowards for not breathlessly attacking the Trump administration at every opportunity is not how we should measure success or courage. Taking our ball and going home by putting everyone on blast is a guaranteed way to lose in the long term. So is never saying anything critical at all.