America Matters but Also Not Really
Aidan’s 2024 Independence Day Take
Good morning, intrepid reader.
Yesterday was our country’s 248th birthday! If you want to get real technical about it, our birthday was actually July 2nd because the Declaration of Independence was signed on the 2nd and announced on the 4th but, you know, whatever.
The 4th always brings a spate of Independence Day content, takes, serious editorial-type pieces, memes, and punditry that tend to get lost in the fold of fireworks, parades, BBQs, lake days, family gatherings, and hot-dog-eating-contests. As I was thinking about what I wanted to write about this week, I initially had that in mind. What is gonna cut through the noise? What’s going to get clicks? How am I going to be unique? Embarrassing, I know. Then I reminded myself of why I’m doing these newsletters in the first place -first, to get better at writing. And second, to put what’s on my heart out there. So that’s what we’re going to do.
Today, I want to talk about virtue. The Constitution. Good governance. And why all that matters but also not really.
Ripping Off the Band-Aid
We’re going to start with this week’s Supreme Court (SCOTUS) opinion on the Donald Trump immunity case. I know. We just gotta do it. Hang with me for a minute. I’m going somewhere else with it, I promise. Here’s a link to a more thorough (and nuanced, and non-panicky) write-up of the opinion, but I’ll give you a quick recap here.
First, remember that SCOTUS always decides questions, not cases. The “Question Presented” or “QP” in front of the court this time was:
“We granted certiorari to consider the following question: ‘Whether and if so to what extent does a former President enjoy presidential immunity from criminal prosecution for conduct alleged to involve official acts during his tenure in office.’’’
Read that carefully!! Note that “Donald Trump” does not appear in that question. Because it’s not technically about him. The court is deciding how to answer that question to give itself and lower courts guidance on the present case regarding Donald Trump, and how to rule in the case of future presidents being indicted for crimes after their terms are over.
Their answer to that question?
Held: Under our constitutional structure of separated powers, the nature of Presidential power entitles a former President to absolute immunity from criminal prosecution for actions within his conclusive and preclusive constitutional authority. And he is entitled to at least presumptive immunity from prosecution for all his official acts. There is no immunity for unofficial acts.
Chief Justice John Roberts essentially says that there are three buckets of things a president does:
“Core Acts:” Things that only the president can do, via power expressly given by the Constitution. Think pardons, being the commander in chief, etc.
“Official Acts:” This one is a bit more complicated, so I’ll just quote The Dispatch here:
“If an act does not implicate a core presidential power but is nevertheless an official act of the president, the court held that a former president is entitled to the presumption that he is immune from prosecution for that official act.
‘Such an immunity is required to safeguard the independence and effective functioning of the Executive Branch, and to enable the President to carry out his constitutional duties without undue caution,’ the chief justice wrote.
But that presumptive immunity can be overcome if ‘the Government can show that applying a criminal prohibition to that act would pose no ‘dangers of intrusion on the authority and functions of the Executive Branch.’
Translation: A president must be able to exercise the duties and responsibilities the Constitution gives him without fear of being criminally charged later. So when conducting official acts, the president is immune from prosecution unless the government can prove prosecuting him would not endanger the ability of the executive branch to function in the future.”
“Unofficial Acts:” These are things that can be prosecuted and charged, because they are outside the scope of the president’s executive powers. This includes actions taken as a candidate for a second term. Like, you know, paying off someone you had an affair with hush money and then falsifying the business records to cover it up. That’s totally fair game.
The end game of the opinion is that the court threw out one of the charges against the former president (the one saying it was criminal to replace his Attorney General) because it fit into bucket #1. They sent the case back (“remanded”) to the lower courts to sort out which of the charges fit into buckets #2 and #3, and they will proceed accordingly.
The decision wasn’t unanimous- three of the nine Justices dissented, with the lead dissent written by Justice Sotomayor. Sotomayor cited a parade of horribles that could ensue because of this decision: For example, a president could likely take a bribe to issue a pardon (because pardons are bucket #1 responsibilities). On the other hand, Roberts and the majority delivered their own parade of horribles of what would happen without the guidance of this opinion; they envisioned future presidents hobbled to inaction because of fear of future prosecution, and foresaw enterprising prosecutors bringing up former presidents on frivolous charges for decisions of discernment that could take years or decades to fight.
Which parade of horribles seems worse to you will probably inform how you feel about this case. But the whole reason I even bring this up is to make this point:
The Constitution, and our government more generally, is not equipped to be and cannot be airtight protection against vice.
Another way to frame this whole debacle is an attempt to figure out how we respond to leaders who do not act virtuously. Our system of checks-and-balances, a robust criminal code, and the separation of powers all do a lot to mitigate the baser aspects of human nature bent towards greed, selfish ambition, or avarice. But if we elect a person who is hell-bent on using the office of the president (or senator, or congressman, etc) for their own gain… there is really only a limited amount that our system is designed to handle. Or even can handle. We’ll never be able to protect against every single eventuality of human brokenness. We, as voters, have to nominate and elect people who have shown streaks of decency, virtue, and magnanimity. Politics is messy, but those people do exist - on both sides of the aisle.
But I think people often feel bound to their party’s choice because they don’t like the policies of the other party, or are afraid that the other guy winning will lead to “the end of America.” Politics becomes stressful, anxiety-inducing, and depressing when it’s a zero-sum game. And that brings me to my final point.
A Greater Hope
I am genuinely thankful and proud to be an American. I teach US History and am about as aware as anybody that our country and its history is deeply, deeply, flawed. I believe, however, that the US is on the level a wonderful place to live, and I’m thankful that my core rights are protected - and that when we look back, see a story of those rights being - gradually - reinforced and strengthened. As Americans we experience a Pax Americana that means we are generally free and distant from the kinds of petty violence and daily indignities that many in other countries face. Again, our country is far from perfect. But also again, we have so much to be thankful for.
Here’s the thing, though: it could all fall tomorrow! Maybe not, like, tomorrow tomorrow, but it’s not out of the cards. Rome seemed like it would exist forever - when you’re a part of something that lasts for ~1,000 years, how can it not? But it didn’t. The United States is a little baby at just 248 years. Who’s to say we’ll even hit 500? If I were a betting man I’d say we have a solid chance, but we don’t really know.
This kind of uncertainty can be unsettling, especially if my identity is placed in a particular country, place, party, ideology, or historical context.
But as a Christian, I have to remember that my allegiance, salvation, and more importantly my hope, is not in a particular candidate, party, or even country. It’s in Christ. The person of Jesus. Perhaps you’ve heard that before, and thought to yourself “ok, but what does that mean?” You wouldn’t be alone. It wasn’t something I’ve understood until recently, and if I’m being 100% honest, I’m not sure I actually believed it before now. Let me offer a couple of examples of how this idea plays out.
When you read the New Testament, it can be easy to forget that everything that Jesus (and later Paul, Peter, John and others) said & wrote was in the context of a brutally oppressive empire that actively sought to stone, burn, execute, and otherwise exterminate Christ-followers (among many others). Let that sink in for a moment, and then go back and read the text. What does it say?
Love your enemies. Bless those who persecute you. Do good to those who hurt you. Pray for those who mistreat you. Don’t cast stones at others unless you yourself are perfect. If someone steals your jacket, give them your undershirt.
These things seem hard enough to live out when people are saying mean things to you on the internet. But what if the stakes were as high as being crucified upside down in a stadium full of jeering onlookers? “Bless those who persecute you?“
If the above seems too onerous - as many American Christians have concluded - then perhaps we don’t actually understand who Jesus was. We’re not even close to DEFCON crucifixion, yet we’re ready to throw out the Sermon on the Mount as “not realistic.”
While Christ-followers are supposed to be advocates and agents for justice and flourishing, the reality is that oftentimes we are literally powerless in the face of things much larger than ourselves. And in those circumstances, do we despair? No. But why?
Jesus, the son of the creator God and co-equal member of the Trinity, is everything to Christians. There is no true joy except for joy in him. A friend of mine just lost his 53-year-old son-in-law to a heart attack on Father’s Day. His response? Joy amidst grief. It seems impossible. I know a woman at my church who has battled horrific cancer that has taken so much of what she has valued in her life. Her response? Peace amidst suffering. I know another woman who sends care packages to the murderer of her sister. Why? Love amidst anger. Another man sufferers from a degenerative auto-immune condition, and his life depends on new treatments being discovered every 18 months or so. How does he live out his days? With purpose amidst uncertainty.
These things are mind-boggling. The only common denominator between them is that each of these people has Christ. A relationship with the one who created them, and with whom they will spend eternity. His overwhelming joy, peace, love, and mercy are present and accessible, and can heal the deepest wound or bridge the darkest chasm.
Should we care about elections? Totally. But presidents, court cases, elections, and even the fate of nations are nothing compared to what we can have thorough Christ in life and death. So yesterday I wore an extremely patriotic T-shirt, played some John Phillips Sousa at our parade watch-party, and watched National Treasure, but I did my best to enjoy them as the subordinate goods that they are.