Mr. Deeds was a Republican. . . . .sort of
Watch Mr. Deeds Goes to Town sometime. Gary Cooper's character, Longfellow Deeds, is supposed to be an uncomplicated, folksy guy who has simple tastes that include a distinct distaste for the extravagant. He's willing to help a neighbor in need without fanfare or the melodramatic, AND out of his own means! He is a man of principles and ideals until the media ridicules and criticizes him. With that he retreats into his own little self-imposed cone of isolation, choosing, for a time, to wallow in destructive and debilitating self-pity. He is satisfied to be crushed and defeated, until he is confronted with the epiphany that his stand involves others who are counting on him. He discovers that he has a constituency that is dependent on him speaking for them. At that point, he rises in quiet strength with a little indignation, and not only saves himself, but rescues those he was trying to help.

I submit that the Republican Party, beginning with George W. Bush, have been silent when the constituency that put them in power begs for representation. The national media has been allowed to emasculate them into saying nothing, and Republicans, led by our President, believe that this is honorable. Our Chief Executive can claim that he is the President of all the people, and my response is simple: do the math. Ask yourself, "How many peope voted for me versus how many voted against me?"

An important ingredient of the American Revolution was the revolt against taxation without representation. Irate--some might even say brave--colonists dumped tea into the Boston Harbor. There is no such bravery today, and even less understanding of the historical significance of the Boston Tea Party. The ship of state is sinking, and Republicans can only
kiss the ring of the those that hate them.

Honesty
The late Stephen Ambrose, famed author and historian, noted in his book, Citizen Soldier, that those soldiers who talked the loudest in predicting their bravery in battle, tended to be those that broke first when confronted with the stresses and horrors of combat. I would submit that those individuals who clamor the loudest for honesty in all of their personal relationships, tend to be those most offended when that honesty is turned their direction. I have never met anyone--family, friend, customer, business associate, Christian, or non-Christian--who truly wants unbridled, bold-faced truth delivered to their door. And that includes me.

We often arrive at these noble sentiments in a quiet moment--when we can get them--but when the nitty-gritty of everyday living is in full swing, the last thing that anyone I've ever known wants is the absolute truth, no matter how gently delivered.

I've had it delivered to me in about every form you might imagine. It has been delivered by the power of the parents' paddle. It has been thundered at me from the pulpit. It's been delivered sweetly to be by a loving wife from her pillow. I've received it laced with profanity from a teacher. It's been delivered quietly and privately from a loyal friend. The message of the cross delivers it daily. The power of a right cross pounded the message home when I was an idiot youth. In all honestly, I have never found any of those moments of truth to be remotely enjoyable. Anyone who says otherwise is either a masochist or lying.

That being said, in the world of reflection and retrospect, I hold those times in the highest regard for the simple reason that I've become a better person, and thus more Christ-like through those painful exchanges. As a I get older, and become more comfortable in my own skin--to borrow a wornout cliche--I've become more accepting of the truth as it applies to me. I did not say as I apply it, but as the Bible applies it. I also did not say that I now find it enjoyable--in the human sense. I do, however, believe it to be enriching, and so, I find myself seeking it out, as one would seek out a remedy for physical ills.

It is more, though, than a superficial remedy for an ailment, whether it be physical, psychological, or emotional. It is a spiritual encouragement--as in proof--that God loves me. In the book of Hebrews, it declares that God disciplines those whom He loves. The pain is temporary, but the benefits are eternal.

So, when someone loudly requires that I be honest with them, I think that they are being patently dishonest because such demands reveal a total lack of introspection (i.e., ego-centric), and a profound ignorance or a moment of forgetfulness of Christian behavior as defined by the Bible (this is understandable if they are not a Christian). A truthful person would ask, not demand, and would be more specific in their asking. A truly honest person does not care what it might cost them to hear and act on the truth.

I have never severed a personal relationship when the truth has been served to me. (I never knew the guy who punched me out, so he doesn't count). For the most part, I don't end relationships with those who can't accept the truth. I have, however, severed relationships with those who know the truth, yet have tried to turn it into a lie.