good and upright

Poor Paul Ryan. The Republican Speaker of the House of Representatives has finally decided that he can no longer defend the words and actions of Donald Trump, our Republican nominee for President. Separate from my personal views, I admire his willingness to take what he believes to be a principled stand despite the pressures of his colleagues. I have no doubt that Mr. Trump and his supporters will exact a price, and I'm sure Paul Ryan knows this.

Some of my regard for Ryan is admiration by association. This morning, his stand seems not unlike the position of a man from scripture that I've always admired, a man named Joseph. In Luke 23:50-52 I read, "Now there was a man named Joseph, a member of the Council, a good and upright man, who had not consented to their decision and action. He came from the Judean town of Arimathea, and he himself was waiting for the kingdom of God. Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body."

Joseph's position is interesting. He's described as good and upright, but he's also a member of the ruling council that had harassed Jesus for weeks, had plotted against him, and had conspired to kill him. I might be tempted to say that Joseph never took a stand for Jesus, except for one simple thing: he refused his consent.

Joseph had the courage to do one of the hardest things for a political leader – he refused to go along with a bad thing his colleagues wanted to do. He was willing to take their abuse and even to be ostracized by them. He was willing to risk his position among them. He was not willing to condone something he thought was wrong.

That conviction to stand courageously on principle in public life seems to be one of the things that made Luke call Joseph good and upright. 

The next question is obvious: by this definition, am I good and upright? How many times have I been willing to stand visibly against an un-principled majority? Conversely, how often have I stayed silent? How often have I allowed the bad thing to happen to someone else, simply grateful it wasn't me? How often have I decided I don't want to get involved?

I think I have this much going for me: I don't ever like it when I see injustice. It still outrages me. Now, as a mature man, I'm more willing to plant Jesus' banner. I'm more willing to let it be known that I disagree, that my vote is no.

Not always, though. But enough that I have hope that in this, I may be judged good and upright.