I believe the Constitution is inspired.
Literally.
I believe that God whispered to the Founding Fathers during the constitutional convention, and after, and that the Constitution and the Bill of Rights contain his will and wisdom. I believe they were divinely calculated to give form and foundation to our great Republic.
I don’t question that.
I believe it is literally true.
And when you apply that belief to the history of the matter, certain lessons appear. Lessons about how God and greatness work among a group of people to achieve a worthy end.
I think those lessons are useful and comforting today because of the light they can shed on modern politics.
First, it is essential to know how the Constitution did not come about. It did not issue forth in some great revelation chiseled in stone and brought down from Sinai by a prophet. It did not appear as a whole wrapped up in a bow.
It was fought over and compromised about and its various tenets were plucked from several plans and personalities. One person would have brilliant ideas that are preserved in the Constitution and also have horrendous ideas that would have doomed the Constitution. What one person thought was essential another thought was pointless.
It was in the dogfight and conciliation of competing interests and philosophies that this document was forged. It was not really a meet-in-the-middle affair, but rather a case of hardball politics blending with persistence and a commitment to getting something done.
It wasn’t a bunch of guys holding hands and singing campfire songs. There was precious little consensus. It was a bare-knuckle parliamentary brawl in which some participants were openly hostile and contemptuous of others.
And yet it worked.
Those pieces of brilliance were collected together, the dross was washed away, and the greatest political document of all time remained.
God worked through those men, and through their disagreements. And though few of them probably realized the totality and magnitude of what they were creating, they were all part of the miracle.
Even those who disagreed with the document, and opposed its ratification, were essential to making it better. The Federalists tried to build public opinion in support of ratifying the Constitution, and the Anti-Federalists argued for its rejection. But in so doing, they demanded and listed a Bill of Rights which was shortly added to the Constitution, completing and perfecting it.
It all seemed like a barroom brawl, but look at what came of it.
I think there is comfort in that as, in our day, we look at politicians and the struggles between them. Sometimes they seem to do nothing but fight, and seem to be driven exclusively by a desire for partisan advantage.
The experience of the writing of our Constitution shows that even from such political chaos great things can emerge.
And the same thing applies to the sharp differences between our two political parties.
Some of the disagreements of the Constitution grew, over a few years’ time, into two competing political parties. These parties were at one another’s throats. They could not stand one another and fought vigorously.
Just like they do today.
And yet, even that is a gift and an inspiration.
In the arguments of our two parties there is another check and balance on power. Though not listed in the Constitution, our party system grew out of the Constitution and is a firm defender of the Constitution. Government officially has a series of mechanisms to limit power. The two-party system is another unofficial way.
When one party gets too big for its britches, the other party cuts it down to size. There is a back and forth of both philosophy and power which, our history shows, seems to serve the Republic quite well.
In fact, the greatest service seems to be during the times of greatest contention. At least that’s the lesson of history. People of very strong conviction, on both sides of the issues, battle it out in the public marketplace, hoping to advance their view and bring public support to their side.
It can be a bloody mess.
But it also seems to be the cauldron of freedom.
And I point it out because often we are told that the disagreements of our parties today are somehow damaging to the country, or a fruitless course to follow. But our history doesn’t teach us that. Our history teaches us just the opposite. We seem to do our best as a nation when true believers on both sides fight vigorously for their principles.
Somehow, the cream does tend to rise to the top, and the best ideas of both sides most typically advance.
So I’m not bothered by disagreements and contests – within a party or between the parties. I have strong ideas and I am passionate about them, and I want to see them implemented. But I understand that my opponent is also my partner, and that from the ashes of our struggle something great can arise. My ideas need his opposition and his ideas need mine, and we each should have faith that ultimately the right will prevail – often in bits and pieces from each of us.
So I don’t mind fighting for principle.
I don’t think it hurts anything.
Rather, I think it is essential. It is the way things have always been in our country. It has, time after time, been the means of great and momentous progress.
And there’s no reason that can’t be true today.
