Written by Mark K. Lewis

CNN anchor Chris Cuomo recently declared: “Our rights do not come from God.” Then this week, Sen. Ted Cruz’s assertion that “our rights don’t come from man, they come from God Almighty” came under scrutiny when Meredith Shiner, a Yahoo reporter, tweeted: “Bizarre to talk about how rights are God-made and not man-made in your speech announcing a POTUS bid? When Constitution was man-made?”

I am astounded by how many people in this country (and particularly in the media) don’t believe the Declaration of Independence’s assertion that all men are “endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights.” The Declaration of Independence also refers to “The Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God.” Believing that our laws are God-given, and not man-made, has become something that secular liberals seem to take joy in openly mocking. As if there were something inherently funny or backwards about faith. As if there were something hollow and foolish about believing in God.

Obviously, I believe very strongly that the opposite is true.

This might sound like a pedantic point to make, but nearly all of our political discord comes down to fundamental differences in our worldviews. Two very good people can start out with two very different philosophies of life and inevitably come to two very different conclusions on a nearly innumerable amount of problems. Sometimes the consequences are profound. And that’s the case here. Rejection of this foundational principle of God-given law would inexorably lead someone to come to vastly different conclusions about any number of things compared to someone like me who embraces this premise. When liberals and conservatives differ over whether or not the state has the right to usurp this or that right, dig deep enough, and you will often find the root of the disagreement lies here.

I believe very strongly that our rights come from God. And I believe nearly as strongly that the implications of believing that our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are granted by the state are potentially catastrophic. Ideas have consequences, and while some might see quibbling over such esoteric and grandiose ideas to be a waste of time, the truth is that where one comes down on such fundamental questions will likely predetermine where one comes down on a wide range of modern-day “hot-button” issues. When you consider how much of the current political debate hinges on fights about individual liberty and the size and scope of government, this makes sense.

Set aside religion and consider this: If our fundamental rights are merely granted by the state, then they can be taken away by the state. What is more, the state would have no moral compunction not to rob us of our rights. The state is not particularly moral or special or better than people. The state is people. If they don’t have some larger, higher moral code that guides them, then assumptions about what constitutes the “good” are, at least to some degree, arbitrary. Absent an immutable standard, why wouldn’t the law of the jungle rule? In nature, predators prey on the weak. Can we honestly convince ourselves that people are better than that? Some are, sure. But many are not.

Without an absolute law that transcends the whims of man, the very concept of “rights” metastasizes into a definition having more to do with the current and often capricious preference of the majority. Oppressed minorities have long found comfort (and, in fact, seized the moral high ground) by pointing out that there is a greater law, a universal sense of right and wrong, that transcends the will of the majority.

The majority can be wrong. The majority can be in the wrong. History is littered with examples of the folly of man-made law, of man-made injustice. (This is not to say people haven’t done terrible things in the name of God — they have!)

Consider Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail“: “We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights,” he wrote. “To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law.”

More and more, the secular left seems to want to entrust human law to always be just. That’s fine when it is. But what happens when it isn’t?

Originally published at TheWeek.com.

I can think of no more fitting way to conclude the school year than with excerpts from the retirement speech delivered by retiring Glenbrook North High School social studies teacher, James McPherrin, who is retiring after 33 years of teaching.

The words he expressed put to shame countless commencement speeches by celebrities who have little to offer students other than pedestrian cliches. It would behoove administrators, faculty, and students to hear Mr. McPherrin’s speech at the start and end of every school year.

Mr. McPherrin offers wisdom and erudition through eloquent prose that points those who have ears to hear toward truth:

St. Thomas More, the intrepid 16th century chancellor to King Henry VIII of England, once said, “When statesmen forsake their own private consciences for the sake of their public duties, they lead their country by a short route to chaos.” Now, I would suggest that the very same quotation might be tailored so as to apply directly to teachers. It would read, “When teachers forsake their own private consciences for the sake of their public school duties, they lead their students by a short route to chaos.”

Thomas More was among the sterling individuals in the western intellectual tradition who understood well the necessary relationship between the natural law and the human law, and that circumstances often challenge us to acknowledge the rational demands the former places upon the latter. More, as we know, would later sacrifice his very life in defense of that compelling idea. In essence, dear colleagues, please consider that our cardinal duty as instructors of the young is to shepherd them in their journey towards truth.

Whether it be European History, English Lit, Calc, Phys Ed, or Music, our task is to foster in students a love for and desire to acknowledge what is true. If such a premise does not inspire our efforts, then I’m afraid they might well be for naught. Make it your purpose to ignite the element of intellectual longing that exists in all young people; that desire to know, that desire to bring order out of chaos. Give them that education to which the English writer, G.K. Chesterton, alluded, when he said, “Many are schooled, but few are educated.” There is a difference, and it would behoove us all to acknowledge it openly.

Furthermore, I would encourage you not to align yourselves with those forces within our noble field who would seek to rid the discussion of divine things from the intellectual discourse in our classrooms. This is an unfortunate act that flies in the face of a teacher’s visceral commitment to the free exchange of ideas. Steel yourselves against the notion that such discourse violates the separation of church and state. It doesn’t. A reflection of ethical ambivalence more than anything else, such an argument is a specious one, and those of us who purport to cherish freedom of expression, ought to find it intellectually repugnant. Students are naturally inclined to ask metaphysical questions. To do so is in complete keeping with their nature as young, sentient, beings. It is how they are wired, and to stifle such instincts, or, to attempt to coach them away, does them a grave disservice.

Once they understand the idea of truth and that things can be known — surprise, surprise — they naturally gravitate toward a desire to know in what truth has its origin. The logical consequences of such thinking may unsettle some of us. However, trepidation of that sort is the lamentable result of lost cultural moorings. To attenuate such discussions is to attenuate the very growth of our students’ scholarly faculties. It’s as plain as that! We were meant to contemplate higher things — most obviously within our English and history classrooms. Thomas Aquinas understood this as far back as the 1200s and explained quite clearly our human commission, when he said, if you’ll permit me, “Three things are necessary for the salvation of man: to know what he ought to believe; to know what he ought to desire; and to know what he ought to do.”

May we have the courage to let our students’ minds move freely and joyfully toward those things for which they were made; and if such pursuits lead them to apprehend that force through whom we live and move and have our being, then so must it be. We should view any attempt to stifle such dialogues as nothing less than an attack upon reason itself. A final quotation from the luminous G.K. Chesterton: “A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it (Everlasting Man, 1925).

May we always have the strength and the wisdom to know when to swim against the stream.

Mr. McPherrin had this to say about his experience in public education: “It’s been a tough slog, but I think truth is making gains.” Our children deserve more teachers like James McPherrin, teachers who will, even in the face of obstacles, persevere in their labor to point students toward truth.