"If you could see facts straight on without that horrible moral quint...." Those were memorable words from the inestimable movie A Man for All Seasons. There are actually tons of good lines in this. "He's been to play in the muck again," says Cardinal Wolsey as King Henry comes to confess his immorality with Anne Boleyn. And then this from Thomas More. "I think that when statesmen forsake their own private conscience for the sake of their public duties, they lead their countries by a short route to chaos." Ah, yes. Good lines. Not simply because they are well written -- because they are -- but because they are so true. The great temptation is to see facts without moral constraint, to play in the muck and then come back to confession to wash your hands so that you are not constrained by guilt for the things you wished to do and did, and, finally, to separate the private man from the public one. By all these we make ourselves and our faith shallow and weak and then wonder out loud why the world is such a mess. Indeed.
I do not know which is better for the nation A man without the presumption of faith and morality who indulges in the forbidden for his own purpose or the man with faith and morality who can justify the forbidden for the sake or urgency or expediency. You tell me. For the Church, it is certainly the latter. We have had great faces of morality and integrity who have done great evils behind the scenes or simply refused to let their morality and faith interfere with their public duties. Some of those are in Congress right now. I think less so it is true of our current President. We have also had those who seem to wear the muck without much hesitation for the job they believe needed to be done and whose judgment had no moral squint to it. They were not better but for the sake of the faith, they did not take Jesus with them into the dirt.
I also do not know if a righteous man availeth much in the public square. We in the Church would laud him but we would also criticize for it seems that righteousness has become less a moral position than a moving line in the sand. We have become rather good at excusing and justifying our way out of the commands of the Lord and we strive for a host of other goods before we give ourselves to the cause of holiness. I do not mean to remove myself from the shame of it all. We are all complicit. The gift of a clear conscience is not meant to leave us off the hook, so to speak, but to free us from the guilt so that the Spirit might work in us the good work of holiness, righteousness, and purity. Slow it is, the pace of this progress, and too often hidden to us but it is apparent to God and often to those nearest and dearest to us. The prayers of a righteous man availeth much except we pray for so many other causes and needs and wants besides purity of heart, righteousness which reflect Christ's own, and holiness which flows from God's own holiness to those who belong to Him. And that is its own problem, now, isn't it?
Expedience wins many friends but faith and morality seem lonely. It is not new. It has always been that way. We surrender ourselves to our guilty pleasures only to be washed up for dinner with forgiveness. Thankfully, God does not condition such forgiveness upon such a track record of change but He does enable and expect that forgiveness lives within the transformed desires of the mind and heart to love what He loves and do what He does. In the play, Wolsey was certainly the crafty one -- at least until it all came undone when even diplomacy and negotiation could not undo the evil Henry had done. Thomas was the good man -- too dour for our taste and too righteous for our company but an honorable man who really was ready to be true even to death. I am thankful I am no advisor to kings or presidents nor do I have official cause to give any the advice so readily upon my mind and tongue. But I do know the great tension between the holy and the expedient and none has to be a shadow in the halls of power to know it and feel it in their lives. It is a wretched tension but a good one which forces the simple to be difficult and the difficult to be simple. Without it we would not need nor know God at all.









