The GOP debate stage was remarkably less crowded at the 10th than it was at the first — but the drama certainly didn’t suffer for it. Less than a week before Super Tuesday — when voters in a dozen states will likely vote a couple more candidates off the island — the five men still standing did their best to make a lasting impression on voters. And they made an impression all right — as bitter antagonists so busy tearing each other down that they failed to focus on America’s future.

“I showed anger,” Donald Trump has said, “and the people of our country are very angry!” Obviously, anger has its place. In fact, it’s probably the single largest motivator in the record primary turnouts this year. But anger doesn’t govern a nation. Policies do. It’s time to get beyond the name-calling and playground antics and start talking about a vision of moving America forward. Not having a broader, civil discussion about the candidates’ vision is doing a serious disservice to the process.

In the days since Trump’s surprising South Carolina victory, reporters have asked me why I think evangelicals are so divided in this race. Like most pundits, they’re baffled at the success that Donald Trump in particular is having with Christians. Why, they want to know, are so many supporting a man who doesn’t necessarily reflect their biblical values? Two words: fear and frustration. Fear of a country they hardly recognize — and frustration with a political class that over-promises and underperforms. But here’s the problem: you can’t be fearful and thoughtful at the same time. When we operate out of fear and frustration rather than faith and reason, the results are often disastrous.

Our good friend Ken Klukowski, now with First Liberty Institute, talked about how the feelings of betrayal may be driving this bloc to act so unpredictably. “Some voters demand to see a person’s record. They want consistency. Others, if they are hearing the right things, they feel so abused by some elected officials in the Republican Party they thought they could rely on, that they are cynical of politics in general.”

With a quarter of the delegates on the line for the nomination next week, here’s my message to Christian conservatives: stop fearing and start thinking. Just because a candidate shares your anger doesn’t mean he shares your values. The only way to know if these leaders can satisfy both is to take a long hard look at their records — which you can find right here in FRC Action’s Presidential Voter Guide. Do America a favor — do your homework before you vote. The future of this race, and so much more, depend on it.

Originally published here.

The Fifth’s Commandment

With pro-life successes sweeping the nation, the Left’s only hope to maintain their liberal grip on the culture seems to be the courts. Even that proved to be an unreliable avenue in Louisiana, where the 5th Circuit Court of Appeals just stepped aside and let the state’s abortion regulations take effect. Essentially, the law — much like Texas’s H.B. 2 — asked clinics to meet the basic safety standards of a normal medical facility. As ADF’s Steven Aden pointed out, “Abortionists shouldn’t be given a free pass to elude medical requirements that everyone else is required to follow.”

For an industry supposedly predicated on “women’s health,” you’d think the clinics would be supportive. Think again. The abortion industry flew into action, raising an army to try with unelected judges what it couldn’t do with the people’s representatives — kill these clinic laws. The legislature’s goal was simple: to protect more women from an unregulated Kermit Gosnell-type clinic, which tragically resulted in some mothers’ deaths.

Under Louisiana’s new law (which complimented one that I authored in the state legislature back in 1999), abortionists would be required to have admitting privileges to a hospital within 30 miles of the clinic. It’s a common-sense idea that protects women in danger of losing their lives to medical complications. For various reasons, most abortionists have trouble getting this kind of access. As a result, abortion advocates say all but one of the state’s abortion clinics will close — not because the law or the courts are shutting them down, but because they refuse to take the necessary steps to comply and put the health of women first.

Of course, Planned Parenthood allies complained that leaders had created “reproductive health crisis,” but honestly, the only crisis is an abortion industry that continues to put profits above patients. Now, thanks to the 5th Circuit, and the legal team that defended the law, which included State Rep. Mike Johnson, Louisiana can enforce the law while the challenge continues moving through the courts. “We reversed the district court and permitted the law to go into effect because the plaintiffs had not demonstrated that the law placed an undue burden on a large fraction of women,” the three-judge panel ruled.

Not only is the court’s decision encouraging, but it shows the ground pro-lifers have gained in the last two decades. If we don’t lose heart, we will reap — eventually. Hopefully, this victory will serve as an important reminder that we need to act with immediacy but think eternally.

Originally published here.

‘He Must Increase, But I Must Decrease’

Dallas is a little too far north to see the debate fireworks in Houston. But politics were certainly on my mind as I spoke at the annual conference of the Pentecostal/Charismatic Churches of North America [Friday] morning. This year’s event didn’t need much more context than the contest down the road to put the church’s role in the culture in perspective. As Chuck Colson used to say, “Politics is downstream from the culture.” He’s right. And the culture is downstream from the church. America’s biggest problems aren’t political — they’re spiritual. And until we do something about them, the crisis in our country is only beginning.

As I told the PCCNA, a prominent political figure and friend asked me a few years ago, why do pastors and Christian leaders expect me to talk about issues on TV and in the political arena that they won’t preach about in their pulpits and churches? In my opinion, it’s because we’re afraid. Afraid to offend. Afraid to hurt our ministries. Afraid to hurt our standing in the community. Imagine what could happen if we adopted the mission statement of John the Baptist: “He must increase but I must decrease.” With such fierce attacks on our faith in the public square, we have a tendency to look back with a bit of nostalgia at political leaders who prayed and appealed to God. But these leaders weren’t speaking in a vacuum. Abraham Lincoln is one who is often mentioned when we talk about faith in the oval office — but consider who filled the pulpits of that day. Men like Charles Finney, who once said:

Brethren, our preaching will bear its legitimate fruits. If immorality prevails in the land, the fault is ours in a great degree. If there is a decay of conscience, the pulpit is responsible for it. If the public press lacks moral discrimination, the pulpit is responsible for it. If the church is degenerate and worldly, the pulpit is responsible for it. If the world loses its interest in religion, the pulpit is responsible for it. If Satan rules in our halls of legislation, the pulpit is responsible for it. If our politics become so corrupt that the very foundations of our government are ready to fall away, the pulpit is responsible for it. Let us not ignore this fact, my dear brethren; but let us lay it to heart, and be thoroughly awake to our responsibility in respect to the morals of this nation.

Originally published here.