Looks like this is a good place to start:
billygraham.org
Btw, this is a great column on Graham's faulty thinking:
Why It Matters
By WILLIAM J. BENNETT
In the matter of Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky, almost everything points
to the conclusion that something unseemly happened: the tapes; Ms.
Lewinsky's 37 visits to the White House; Mr. Clinton's
morning-after-the-deposition meeting with his secretary, Betty Currie; the
gifts; the talking points; Vernon Jordan's many activities; the job offer from
United Nations Ambassador Bill Richardson; the president's stonewalling;
his initial, unconvincing denial; his refusal to explain what happened; Press
Secretary Mike McCurry's remark that the relationship is probably "very
complicated"; and White House surrogates' declaration of "war" against the
independent counsel.
Nevertheless, many Americans think the scandal--even if true--is either
"none of our business" or not worth the effort to inquire about. This
apparent indifference is surprising and unsettling. It is therefore important to
respond to the most common arguments made by those who believe that a
president's sexual involvement with a 21-year-old intern, and the ensuing
suspected coverup, are essentially irrelevant to our national life:
We shouldn't be judgmental. At a recent speech before an
organization of religious broadcasters, I criticized the president's
unwillingness to explain what happened in the Lewinsky matter. A
member of the audience took me to task for "casting stones." I
responded that it shows how far we have fallen that asking the
president to account for possible adultery, lying to the public, perjury
and obstruction of justice is regarded as akin to stoning. This is an
example of what sociologist Alan Wolfe refers to as America's new
"Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not judge."
Even the Rev. Billy Graham declared yesterday: "I forgive him. . . . I know
how hard it is, and especially a strong, vigorous, young man like he is; he
has such a tremendous personality. I think the ladies just go wild over him."
Mr. Graham, perhaps the nation's most admired religious figure, apparently
is willing to shrug off both adultery and lying, without any public admission
or apology on Mr. Clinton's part. This is what the theologian Dietrich
Bonhoeffer called "cheap grace."
Lost Its Way
All of us are in favor of tolerance and forgiveness. But the moral pendulum
in America has swung too far in the direction of relativism. If a nation of free
people can no longer make clear pronouncements on fundamental matters
of right and wrong--for example, that a married, 50-year-old
commander-in-chief ought not to have sexual relations with a young intern in
his office and then lie about it--it has lost its way.
The problem is not with those who are withholding
judgment until all the facts are in, but with the
increasing number of people who want to avoid
judgment altogether. For it is precisely the
disposition and willingness to make judgments about
things that matter that is a defining mark of a healthy
democracy. In America we do not defer to kings,
cardinals or aristocrats on matters of law and
politics, civic conduct and moral standards. We rely
instead on the people's capacity to make reasonable
judgments based on moral principles. Our form of
government requires of us not moral perfection but
modest virtues, and adherence to some standards.
How high should those standards be? Certainly higher than the behavior
alleged in this case.
Those who constantly invoke the sentiment of "Who are we to judge?"
should consider the anarchy that would ensue if we adhered to this
sentiment in, say, our courtrooms. What would happen if those sitting on a
jury decided to be "nonjudgmental" about rapists and sexual harassers,
embezzlers and tax cheats? Justice would be lost. Without being
"judgmental," Americans would never have put an end to slavery, outlawed
child labor, emancipated women or ushered in the civil-rights movement.
Nor would we have mobilized against Nazism and communism.
Mr. Clinton himself put it well, in a judgment-laden 1996 proclamation he
signed during National Character Week, which said that "individual
character involves honoring and embracing certain core ethical values:
honesty, respect, responsibility. . . . Parents must teach their children from
the earliest age the difference between right and wrong. But we must all do
our part."
A president's private behavior doesn't matter. In a recent Wall
Street Journal/NBC News poll, 57% said that private character
doesn't matter at all or matters only if it interferes with his ability to do
the job. Of course, if Mr. Clinton did have sexual encounters with
Ms. Lewinsky, it involves at least adultery and lying to the
public--and probably lying under oath as well. In any event, the
attempt to rigidly compartmentalize life in this way is divorced from
the real world. A mother would not accept from her son the
explanation that his drug habit doesn't matter because he did well on
the Scholastic Assessment Test; a police commissioner should not
dismiss the raw bigotry of a detective because he has a good arrest
record.
Yet in the name of "compartmentalization," many now seem willing to
accept raunchier behavior from our president than we would from any
CEO, college professor or Army drill sergeant. Housing Secretary Andrew
Cuomo put it this way: "Let's remember what's important here. The lives of
the American people are more important than the personal life of the
president." But Mr. Clinton is a laboratory test case of why private
character is relevant. Prevarications typify his private and public life. A
seamless web of deceit runs through the man and through his administration.
John Adams held a far different view than Mr. Cuomo does. Adams wrote
that the people "have a right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible,
divine right to that most dreaded and envied kind of knowledge; I mean, of
the characters and conduct of their rulers. Rulers are no more than
attorneys, agents, and trustees, for the people; and if the cause, the interest
and trust, is insidiously betrayed, or wantonly trifled away, the people have
a right to revoke the authority that they themselves have deputed."
To better understand the limits of the "private-public" argument, imagine the
storm that would engulf a president who privately supported a whites-only
membership policy at a country club. Most voters would rightly deem this
private sentiment to be of intense public interest. Why, then, are we
supposed to accept a man in the Oval Office whom many parents would
not trust alone with their daughters?
The only thing that matters is the economy. "What we should be
talking about is that we are going to have the first balanced budget in
more than three decades," says one citizen, who voted against Mr.
Clinton in 1996. "That's going to impact our children, not this sleaze
that is masquerading as news." This sentiment reveals an arid and
incomplete understanding of the presidency. More than any other
person, the president symbolizes America. He stands for us in the
eyes of the world and of our children, who inevitably learn from his
example. Whether or not Bill Clinton escapes impeachment, his
legacy will be one of pervasive deceit, squandered trust, a reckless
disregard for the truth, heightened cynicism and a nastier political
culture.
This corruption matters a great deal. Even if the Dow Jones breaks 10,000.
Even if Americans get more day care. Even if the budget is balanced. It
matters because lessons in corruption, particularly when they emanate from
the highest office in the land, undermine our civic life. Children are watching,
and if we expect them to take morality seriously, they must see adults take it
seriously. As C.S. Lewis wrote: "We make men without chests and expect
of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find
traitors in our midst."
A Rogue in Our Midst
Today we find not a traitor but a rogue in our midst. Of course, rogues have
been with us forever, and the corruption of people in power is at least as
old as the Scriptures. But in America today, more and more citizens seem
to be complicit in that corruption. One worry of the Founders was that
luxury and affluence might dull our moral sensibilities. The next few months
will go a long way toward determining how strongly we believe in something
we once revered as "our sacred honor."
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