Because I am a faithful Catholic, unflinchingly loyal to the Magisterium and what she teaches, if there is some blatant inconsistency with Catholic Social Teaching and some political belief of mine, I definitely want to know about it, so I can correct it. Moreover, if I can re-phrase something to avoid giving the impression that I am ignoring some aspect of it or willing to, I'm happy to do it. I'm speaking as a guy who, if given the opportunity, would relish the chance to run for an office in the future. You have no idea.
I have no idea if the Ryan Plan is a good idea. I've only glanced at a few articles about what it contains in bare outline. But what I have heard about it is at least worth consideration (I think). If you hang around free-marketeers long enough, you hear interesting things about what's possible, what we could try, that hasn't gotten a fair shake because of caricatures of markets or economics that especially as Christians we just accept because we don't know better. If Paul Ryan's plan does ignore the Church's preference for the poor as stated in the teaching, show me. But on the face of it, if a man tells me he cares about the poor, that he believes his policies will actually alleviate poverty, my first charitable response should be, "Please show me; this sounds interesting." If I think he fails to do it, or it proves unworkable, OK. (And if you want to know, Speaker Boehner did make me very uncomfortable right at the end in introducing Cardinal Dolan; the Cardinal did not intend in any way to lend his approval to the specific proposals of the GOP ticket; the best he would say is that those formulations in matters of prudence are consistent or not, broadly speaking, with Church teaching.)
I just need to be honest here: I identify in broad ideological strokes as a conservative and politically as a Republican precisely because I never heard it advocated on its own terms, stated affirmatively by people who held it with conviction. I thought exactly as young people think: liberals care about people, and conservatives care about money. Frankly, I know most adults who call themselves liberal or progressive still really believe this. Knuckle-dragging, money-grubbing bigots. Racists. Homophobes. Feel free to stop me any time. Anyway, it was too simple a picture. I could sense it intuitively. My desire to be compassionate, caring, and frankly, seen as a good guy all of a sudden wasn't a good enough reason to be a progressive. In other words, it was reckless to project my sense of my own good will on to matters of public policy as a simple matter, and then judge everyone and everything by it. There are well-intentioned people everywhere. Don't laugh. This revelation changed the course of my entire life. Any of us could be wrong, blind to some truth, or whatever, but none of us gives up on ourselves. Very few people believe they are bad people, even when they are. Why are we so quick to judge whole groups of people we don't know, when we don't do it to ourselves? I can't say I've always fairly characterized political opponents (especially not in private conversations) but I can tell you that I'm willing to listen. I really am. Are you?
When you realize that you might be a partisan, but are not unduly partisan is also a liberating moment. I'm free to say, "You know what? Most of my party is wrong on this thing" or, "I'm with the other guys on this one." This is the beginning of conviction, and we can only hope that such courage aligns with the truth.
What we have to do as a people is re-establish that fundamental belief in the goodwill of our opponents. Politics is a tough sport, and that's exactly what it is, a contest. It's high-stakes, because we're talking about lives and livelihoods, but it's still a contest. Even if we had roughly the same view of the world, the "frames" of the contest and its slogans are bound to hurt some feelings, even in days when we listen and like each other. But we've got to try, even so.
What am I saying here? I'm saying that I actually like Barack Obama. I really do. Because he gave me that positive impression (you can't really like a person you'll likely never meet) he made it easier to do what I did 4 years ago: vote for him. It may have been a poor assessment of my moral obligations as a Christian; it certainly had an emotional component that may have been inordinate on my part--after all, my dislike for McCain made it impossible to go back once I considered it--but I have never apologized and never will apologize for being hopeful and optimistic about our country and the men and women we choose to lead it. It hurts me to vote against our president. I know what his election meant--what it still means--to so many of us, far beyond the merits or demerits of policies and the issues of the day. When McCain noted the historic nature of what we were witnessing, he hit a false note just a bit. It wasn't Black America's moment; it was our moment. Oprah was crying, and so was I. It was and is a great American moment, and our sins and errors past and present--and his--will never take the goodness of it away. The heat of the battles won't take it away, either. You can't pay me to dislike him. I need you to understand that. I've been mad, sad, and every other ill feeling you can have about his policy choices, and even the way he's advocated for them since. But I've never lost that generally positive view of him, crazy as that sounds.
But I know deep down in my guts that we've gone wrong. I thought it would be different; I thought he understood what he had a chance to do. But he didn't. And that same Democratic Party, beholden to the ideas of an inhuman collectivism, a deadly idealism that dares to demand our children in sacrifice, and that brooks no dissent on the prudence of our chosen means of providing for the general welfare asks for my support again. Not this time. Whether the Republican Party stands entirely for what truly matters is beside the point; depending on who the name describes and what is said by them, a prudent man must be ready to answer "no," to varying degrees. But I have only one choice to make, and I shall make it.
I have no idea if the Ryan Plan is a good idea. I've only glanced at a few articles about what it contains in bare outline. But what I have heard about it is at least worth consideration (I think). If you hang around free-marketeers long enough, you hear interesting things about what's possible, what we could try, that hasn't gotten a fair shake because of caricatures of markets or economics that especially as Christians we just accept because we don't know better. If Paul Ryan's plan does ignore the Church's preference for the poor as stated in the teaching, show me. But on the face of it, if a man tells me he cares about the poor, that he believes his policies will actually alleviate poverty, my first charitable response should be, "Please show me; this sounds interesting." If I think he fails to do it, or it proves unworkable, OK. (And if you want to know, Speaker Boehner did make me very uncomfortable right at the end in introducing Cardinal Dolan; the Cardinal did not intend in any way to lend his approval to the specific proposals of the GOP ticket; the best he would say is that those formulations in matters of prudence are consistent or not, broadly speaking, with Church teaching.)
I just need to be honest here: I identify in broad ideological strokes as a conservative and politically as a Republican precisely because I never heard it advocated on its own terms, stated affirmatively by people who held it with conviction. I thought exactly as young people think: liberals care about people, and conservatives care about money. Frankly, I know most adults who call themselves liberal or progressive still really believe this. Knuckle-dragging, money-grubbing bigots. Racists. Homophobes. Feel free to stop me any time. Anyway, it was too simple a picture. I could sense it intuitively. My desire to be compassionate, caring, and frankly, seen as a good guy all of a sudden wasn't a good enough reason to be a progressive. In other words, it was reckless to project my sense of my own good will on to matters of public policy as a simple matter, and then judge everyone and everything by it. There are well-intentioned people everywhere. Don't laugh. This revelation changed the course of my entire life. Any of us could be wrong, blind to some truth, or whatever, but none of us gives up on ourselves. Very few people believe they are bad people, even when they are. Why are we so quick to judge whole groups of people we don't know, when we don't do it to ourselves? I can't say I've always fairly characterized political opponents (especially not in private conversations) but I can tell you that I'm willing to listen. I really am. Are you?
When you realize that you might be a partisan, but are not unduly partisan is also a liberating moment. I'm free to say, "You know what? Most of my party is wrong on this thing" or, "I'm with the other guys on this one." This is the beginning of conviction, and we can only hope that such courage aligns with the truth.
What we have to do as a people is re-establish that fundamental belief in the goodwill of our opponents. Politics is a tough sport, and that's exactly what it is, a contest. It's high-stakes, because we're talking about lives and livelihoods, but it's still a contest. Even if we had roughly the same view of the world, the "frames" of the contest and its slogans are bound to hurt some feelings, even in days when we listen and like each other. But we've got to try, even so.
What am I saying here? I'm saying that I actually like Barack Obama. I really do. Because he gave me that positive impression (you can't really like a person you'll likely never meet) he made it easier to do what I did 4 years ago: vote for him. It may have been a poor assessment of my moral obligations as a Christian; it certainly had an emotional component that may have been inordinate on my part--after all, my dislike for McCain made it impossible to go back once I considered it--but I have never apologized and never will apologize for being hopeful and optimistic about our country and the men and women we choose to lead it. It hurts me to vote against our president. I know what his election meant--what it still means--to so many of us, far beyond the merits or demerits of policies and the issues of the day. When McCain noted the historic nature of what we were witnessing, he hit a false note just a bit. It wasn't Black America's moment; it was our moment. Oprah was crying, and so was I. It was and is a great American moment, and our sins and errors past and present--and his--will never take the goodness of it away. The heat of the battles won't take it away, either. You can't pay me to dislike him. I need you to understand that. I've been mad, sad, and every other ill feeling you can have about his policy choices, and even the way he's advocated for them since. But I've never lost that generally positive view of him, crazy as that sounds.
But I know deep down in my guts that we've gone wrong. I thought it would be different; I thought he understood what he had a chance to do. But he didn't. And that same Democratic Party, beholden to the ideas of an inhuman collectivism, a deadly idealism that dares to demand our children in sacrifice, and that brooks no dissent on the prudence of our chosen means of providing for the general welfare asks for my support again. Not this time. Whether the Republican Party stands entirely for what truly matters is beside the point; depending on who the name describes and what is said by them, a prudent man must be ready to answer "no," to varying degrees. But I have only one choice to make, and I shall make it.
Comments