Voice of Reason: “A broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.”

Sitting in a team meeting for a Westminster think tank one day, I remember being asked: “Where are today’s moral leaders?” A fair question, when confronted with those who govern us.

“Hiding,” I replied.

And rightly so. We live in a world of witch trials, where we govern with cynicism and an irredeemable view of all people. A world where anyone, with any level of sin in their life, would be utterly insane to step into the spotlight lest they be found guilty of that most common of modern crimes: being human.

Through this lens, it is hard to imagine how any of the moral leaders of the past century would have withstood today’s scrutiny. Mahatma Gandhi would be labelled a racist, Martin Luther King a serial adulterer, Nelson Mandela a terrorist. It is not to say such figures were without opponents in their time – two of the three were assassinated after all – but the tone and scale of the vitriol directed at public figures has grown uglier since the arrival of the internet. Now we all stand ever ready to cast the first stone, and celebrate when the target of our hate falls.

Worse still is that such polarised animosity is not reserved for mighty cultural leaders. We might make least sense of that disdain, as by their actions great change is brought about. But no, as I wrote in my previous piece about Alex Jurado, the internet has granted the opportunity of celebrity to anyone, and it lies in gleeful waiting for moments to criticise.

One month after accusations surfaced online against Catholic YouTuber Alex Jurado (better known as Voice of Reason), he has finally spoken. In his 25-minute apology video, which began with a stern denial of the criminal accusations made against him, he chose to repent and take responsibility for inappropriate communication with multiple women. Watching the video, you witness something so counter-cultural to the ways of modern media. Jurado sat there sorrowfully accepting the mess he had made, asking for forgiveness from his family, friends, community, and audience. The grace of God’s purifying light was extended to him, and he embraced it – no doubt painfully.

In this act, we must remember why those who proclaim a Christian worldview must be different. The faith we have inherited is one of sinners redeemed and turned around by God’s mercy: David the adulterous murderer, Saul the persecutor, Peter the denier. We know from Scripture that “there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance”; so too must we – the Church Militant – rejoice.

The cross we share as humans is that of our fallen nature. Whether political leader, convicted criminal, priest, or Catholic YouTuber, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”, and the real test comes in our humble acceptance of God’s mercy. To this point, we would do well to remember, as the Hindu poet Swami Vivekananda said, “all differences in this world are of degree and not of kind.” Or, fitting even closer to Jurado’s situation, Christ’s words: “one who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” It is easy to sit behind a screen, see another man’s sin, and judge. It is much harder to take the plank out of our own eye.

Accepting Jurado’s apology does not remove the consequences of his actions. Questions about who should enter public ministry, how much attention and platform we grant to Catholic celebrities, and whether Jurado specifically can return to apologetics content are all valid. We are right to expect standards from our leaders and spokespersons. We are right to be upset by moral failures.

But we are also called to forgive and rehabilitate those who fall. As we forgive, so too shall we be forgiven.

“The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.”

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