Justice, Constitutional Rights, and the Duty to Stand for What Is Right

If we all genuinely believed in Jesus Christ, perhaps we would have a greater measure of unity within our communities. Yet we live in a society where people increasingly seem to exist in their own separate universes, divided by ideology, politics, identity, and personal interests. In that environment, government institutions can become remarkably unified in exercising authority over the people, even when the people themselves remain deeply divided.

I can say this from personal experience. I have walked the halls of these institutions, and I do not have a personal stake in favoring one side of this principle over another. What I am arguing is that fairness and equal justice are principles that existed long before the United States was established. Scripture repeatedly teaches this. Deuteronomy 16:20 declares, “Justice, and only justice, you shall follow,” while Leviticus 19:15 instructs, “You shall do no injustice in judgment.” The principle is older than any American institution: justice is supposed to be impartial.

Let me help you understand just how powerful the United States Constitution is. The Constitution is the supreme law of the land. Article VI establishes that the Constitution, federal laws made pursuant to it, and treaties are the supreme law of the United States. The government therefore does not possess legitimate authority simply because it possesses power. Its authority is bounded by law.

That distinction matters. When government exercises authority against an individual, it must operate within the legal framework that gives that authority legitimacy in the first place. The Constitution does not merely give government power; it also places limits on government power. The Bill of Rights exists precisely because the government was never intended to possess unlimited authority over the individual.

In my view, this is where the constitutional conflict becomes profound. When government institutions use the machinery of law to deprive a person of rights that the Constitution protects, the government is effectively required to overcome the very protections that limit its authority. Rights cannot simply disappear because the government has accused someone of committing a crime.

The Sixth Amendment is particularly important here. It provides that, in criminal prosecutions, “the accused shall enjoy the right ... to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence.” The constitutional right belongs to the accused. Counsel is the instrument through which that right is exercised; counsel is not the constitutional beneficiary of the right.

That distinction deserves serious consideration when discussing competency proceedings. California's statutory competency framework is designed around the proposition that a criminal defendant must be able to understand the proceedings and rationally cooperate with counsel. There is an important constitutional question, however, whenever the government's mechanism for protecting the right to counsel becomes a mechanism through which the defendant's own exercise of that right is effectively overridden.

A defendant does not surrender constitutional rights merely because the defendant disagrees with counsel. A criminal proceeding is inherently adversarial. The prosecution seeks a conviction; the defense is charged with protecting the accused against the state's allegations. Disagreement between a defendant and an attorney therefore cannot, by itself, be treated as evidence that the defendant is incapable of exercising constitutional rights.

That is why the distinction between incompetence and disagreement matters so much. A person can be difficult. A person can be angry. A person can distrust an attorney. A person can challenge the court. A person can make arguments that a judge considers misguided. None of those characteristics, standing alone, necessarily establish legal incompetence.

And that brings me to the question I have repeatedly confronted: Of all the things someone might call me—crazy, unreasonable, difficult, arrogant, bigoted, mean, or whatever else—would you call me incompetent? Would incompetence actually be the label you would put on my jacket?

Those are not interchangeable concepts. Being disagreeable is not necessarily being incapable. Being persistent is not necessarily being irrational. Being suspicious of an institution is not necessarily being unable to understand it. And vigorously defending one's constitutional interests is not inherently evidence that one cannot participate meaningfully in one's own defense.

The Constitution also presupposes that the government must respect the individual even when the individual is accused of wrongdoing. Due process exists precisely because accusation is not conviction. The Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments protect against deprivation of liberty without due process of law. The presumption of innocence, meanwhile, reflects an essential principle of criminal justice: an accusation is not the same thing as an adjudicated fact.

That principle should matter enormously when the consequence of a proceeding is the loss of liberty.

A person who has not been convicted should not be treated as though conviction has already occurred simply because criminal charges have been filed. Nor should procedural mechanisms intended to protect constitutional rights become substitutes for adjudicating the underlying criminal allegations. If the government can deprive someone of liberty without ultimately having to confront the merits of the process by which that deprivation occurred, then the public has a legitimate reason to demand transparency and accountability.

This is where I believe our communities have a civic and moral responsibility. Scripture does not tell us to pursue justice only when it benefits us personally. Proverbs 31:9 says, “Open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy.” Micah 6:8 similarly calls upon people to “do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”

The biblical principle is not merely win your own case. It is seek justice.

That distinction is important because most people will never understand the machinery of a criminal proceeding until they are personally caught inside it. We are not all lawyers. We do not all understand statutes, constitutional doctrine, evidentiary rules, appellate preservation, or procedural mechanisms. I do not blame ordinary people for finding this territory difficult. Respectfully, much of this is outside the depth of most people's everyday experience.

But ignorance of the law should not become indifference toward justice.

Galatians 6:2 teaches, “Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” Hebrews 13:3 similarly instructs believers to remember those who are imprisoned as though they themselves were imprisoned with them. These passages establish something important: the suffering of another person is not supposed to become irrelevant merely because it is inconvenient to understand.

And perhaps this is where my disagreement with the broader community becomes most intense. I believe there is value in refusing to surrender simply because surrender would be easier.

Many defendants would probably accept a favorable plea agreement, serve whatever sentence results, and attempt to rebuild their lives—even if they continue to believe they were wrongfully accused. There is nothing inherently cowardly about making that decision. Sometimes people make pragmatic choices because they have families, employment, finances, health, or other responsibilities.

But there is another kind of person who cannot simply let an unresolved principle go.

Sometimes you have to hold the line.

Sometimes you have to speak truth to power.

Sometimes courage means continuing to ask questions after everyone else has become comfortable with the answer.

And if you believe in God, there is another dimension to that struggle. Ephesians 5:11 says, “Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.” John 3:20-21 similarly describes the relationship between wrongdoing and light: those who practice evil avoid the light, while those who do what is true come into it.

That is why transparency matters.

The biblical concept of bringing something into the light is not a license to accuse people recklessly. Quite the opposite. Bringing something into the light means allowing facts, documents, testimony, reasoning, and evidence to be examined rather than allowing secrecy to determine the outcome.

I have prayed that the counsel of those opposing me would become confused and that contradictions would expose themselves. Scripture contains numerous examples of people becoming ensnared by their own schemes. Psalm 7:15 says, “He makes a pit, digging it out, and falls into the hole that he has made.” Proverbs 26:27 similarly warns that whoever digs a pit will fall into it.

But there is an important lesson here: faith does not mean abandoning reason.

Faith should motivate the pursuit of truth, not replace it.

Proverbs 2:6 says, “For the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding.” James 1:5 tells believers that if they lack wisdom, they should ask God for it. Scripture therefore gives us reason to pursue knowledge, wisdom, and understanding actively rather than treating ignorance as a virtue.

I believe these things must be pursued.

Knowledge without wisdom can become arrogance. Wisdom without understanding can become incomplete judgment. Faith without discernment can become vulnerable to manipulation. But when faith, knowledge, wisdom, and understanding work together, a person becomes much harder to deceive.

That is ultimately what I believe my struggle has taught me.

The objective is not simply to defeat an opponent. The objective is to determine what is true.

The objective is not simply to accuse an institution of wrongdoing. The objective is to establish whether its actions withstand scrutiny.

The objective is not simply to demand that people believe me. The objective is to create circumstances in which the evidence can speak for itself.

That is why I believe transparency is so powerful. Darkness depends upon concealment. Truth does not.

And this brings me back to the community.

Perhaps God has not separated us for the reasons we assume. Perhaps our differences are not always evidence that one person is better than another. Perhaps different people, communities, institutions, and even personalities are equipped for different purposes.

A pit bull is a great dog, but a Rottweiler is built for something else.

The point is not that one is inherently better. The point is that design determines function.

Romans 12:4-6 teaches a similar principle about human beings: we are one body with many members, and those members have different functions and gifts. Diversity of function does not necessarily require division of purpose.

Perhaps our communities need people who build, people who teach, people who investigate, people who create, people who govern, people who challenge authority, people who reconcile, and people who preserve what others might otherwise forget.

The question is whether we will use those differences to destroy one another or to strengthen one another.

For me, the answer begins with justice.

Before politics. Before personalities. Before institutional loyalty. Before social pressure. Before convenience.

Justice.

Because if our principles disappear whenever they become inconvenient, then they were never principles at all.

And if we truly believe that God is sovereign over creation—as Psalm 103:19 declares, “The LORD has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all”—then we should have the courage to pursue truth without fearing where the truth ultimately leads.

We should seek knowledge.

We should pursue wisdom.

We should demand understanding.

We should examine evidence.

We should question authority when authority exceeds its lawful boundaries.

And above all, we should remember that justice is not something government invented.

Justice belongs to God long before it belonged to America.