Op. Ed from NYT's
I’m gobsmacked that so many Democrats stood by Graham Platner as long as they did — and a few people are still resentful about his fall. Rarely do you see a man wave more red flags, but Democrats stood by him through the revelation of what sure looked like a Nazi tattoo, a sexting scandal, horrible online posts and an assault allegation from a former girlfriend.
In the face of equivalent misconduct by a Republican, there is no doubt in my mind that my Democratic friends would have seen such a person as yet further proof that Republicans had abandoned decency, embraced corruption and decided to win at all costs.
But at least there was finally a line Democrats would not cross — when Jenny Racicot courageously came forward with her horrific rape allegation, the party said enough. It spoke with one voice, and Platner stepped aside.
But what is the Republican excuse? My entire adult life Republicans have claimed that they take sexual assault seriously, but they also want due process, whenever possible. They don’t want to see trial-by-media or trial-by-mob. That’s a sound, defensible position — one that I share.
But President Trump was found liable by a jury of his peers of sex abuse (and this is after many, many other claims of sexual harassment and sexual assault), and yet Republican devotion to Trump only intensified, just as it intensified as criminal indictment after criminal indictment was filed against him.
All too many people are getting the virtue equation exactly backward. They are labeling a person as good or bad based on their ideology — their position in the culture wars, whether they love or hate billionaires, or any other political fight — far more than their actions.
Or to put it another way, your ideology (or your theology for that matter) is your character.
So, if you’re on the left, if you check every box on wanting to secure women’s reproductive rights, support universal health care, and end American support for Israeli military actions in Gaza and beyond, then you’re a good person. And if information later emerges that you’ve sexted women who aren’t your wife or put Nazi symbols on your body, well even the best people go through hard times. We all make mistakes.
Conversely, on the right, if you check every box on opposing “wokeness,” securing the border, deporting immigrants, and first and foremost supporting Trump, then you’re MAGA’s version of a good person. And if you’ve had a few affairs or perhaps enriched yourself in public office? Well, Jesus is still on your side: Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.
But if you have the wrong ideas? God help you, you horrible troll. Why do they even let you vote?
You see this in what is, quite frankly, the weird Republican fury at Paxton’s Democratic opponent, James Talarico. They disagree with his theology, so he’s a heretic, and heretics are evil.
One question about that: Is apostasy better?
Franklin Graham, Billy Graham’s son and the head of Samaritan’s Purse, a huge Christian charity, called Talarico “wicked.” But Paxton acts as if his own faith isn’t real — isn’t that wicked? Yet hundreds of thousands of Texas Christians would crawl over broken glass to support him at the polls.
While I very much disagree with Talarico’s theology, I also know that theology is far more contestable than virtue. After all, who among us can truly know the mind and heart of God?
Theology should be a place of maximum humility. If the meaning of Scripture is so plain, why are there so many different strands of historic Christianity? Aren’t we told explicitly in Scripture, by the Apostle Paul no less, that we “see through a glass, darkly,” that we lack full knowledge and understanding of God?
So what can we do? We can tell the truth. We can choose not to cheat on our wives and husbands. We can treat people with decency. We can possess the humility to know that we don’t, in fact, have all the answers to securing liberty and justice in the United States, or anywhere else.
In truth, neither our ideology nor our theology makes us good or decent or worthy of any kind of position of responsibility or trust. It’s not that ideology and theology are meaningless. Both matter a great deal. But they do not define us. They do not make us good, and — in the absence of malice — they do not make us evil.
This shouldn’t be a hard concept for Christians in particular to understand. In the Book of James it says that even demons believe in God — and shudder. Paul wrote that even the most miraculous works are meaningless in the absence of love: “If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”
In fact, far from hindering the pursuit of justice, truth and humility facilitate it. If I could sit down and talk with my younger self, my first three words might be, “You’re an idiot.” No, that’s uncharitable. How about this instead, “Your heart might be in the right place, but you think you know more than you do.”
And how did I come to that realization? When by God’s grace I finally gained enough humility to actually listen to other people. Our truthfulness, our kindness, our humility — each of these virtues makes us accessible, teachable and accountable. They also make us more competent, more persuasive and ultimately more effective.
It’s imperative that we amend Goldwater’s slogan. One can and should pursue liberty and justice with courage and conviction, but we can also recognize that humility in defense of liberty is no vice, and cruelty in the pursuit of justice is no virtue.
