What if I told you that a former senator who was one of the biggest supporters of Clarence Thomas, was one of my favorite politicians?  What if the same guy was the minister who presided over Ronal Reagan’s funeral?  What if he was also a Bush appointee — to the United Nations, no less.

If I told you that this guy was at the top of my list for stand-up politicians, that I put him right beside Howard Dean for candor, bravery, and sticking to his guns in the face of fire… would you throw me out of the club?  To paraphrase a line from the classic film Heathers, I don’t care.  I love my Republican Bush-Apointee.

There are those who will never forgive John Danforth for the support he gave to Clarence Thomas during those infamous hearings.  Believe me, I understand.  I threw my share of shoes at the TV and wrote letters to the man so furiously the paper practically burst into flame.

But in the last few months, Danforth has played a vital public role.  To my mind, he’s exhibited bravery above and beyond the call of duty.  Rather than resting on his lengthy record and nodding along with the chorus of  Dobsonian Republican bobble-heads, Danforth has set out in a series of editorials a strong and eloquent position: he’s a Republican, a Christian, but the radial right does not speak for him.

Missouri is a state that over the last few years has made an abrupt and painful shift to the right.  Its pattern is like that of the nation in miniature: hard line evangelicals in rural areas at the center of the state have teamed with business interests to swamp Democratic majorities at the east and west “coasts” of Missouri (that would be the Mississippi River and, um, Kansas).  A state that only a few years ago unseated John Ashcroft in favor of a dead man, now treats that bozo like God’s right hand man.  The state house is occupied by Matt “Bomb France” Blunt, son of House majority whip (and always in the running for a-hole of the year), Roy Blunt.  The state legislature is dominated by evangelicals so radical that they’ve gone past the far right and hit the dark ages.  

In this atmosphere, Missouri Republicans have learned to salute Bush, hate everyone else, and attend a lot of church BBQs.  Any dissent is viewed as an affront to God.  Literally.

But Danforth has not been cowed.  Again and again, he has stuck up for what has truly become a radical position in this state: you don’t have to be conservative to be a Christian.  You can be moderate, or even (gasp) liberal.  Senator Danforth’s latest editorial came last week in the New York Times.  The opening paragraph sets the tone.

It would be an oversimplification to say that America’s culture wars are now between people of faith and nonbelievers. People of faith are not of one mind, whether on specific issues like stem cell research and government intervention in the case of Terri Schiavo, or the more general issue of how religion relates to politics. In recent years, conservative Christians have presented themselves as representing the one authentic Christian perspective on politics. With due respect for our conservative friends, equally devout Christians come to very different conclusions.

 Danforth doesn’t back away from the contention between church and state, and he makes the distinction between the radicals and others very clear.

Many conservative Christians approach politics with a certainty that they know God’s truth, and that they can advance the kingdom of God through governmental action. So they have developed a political agenda that they believe advances God’s kingdom, one that includes efforts to “put God back” into the public square and to pass a constitutional amendment intended to protect marriage from the perceived threat of homosexuality.
Moderate Christians are less certain about when and how our beliefs can be translated into statutory form, not because of a lack of faith in God but because of a healthy acknowledgement of the limitations of human beings. Like conservative Christians, we attend church, read the Bible and say our prayers.

But for us, the only absolute standard of behavior is the commandment to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Danforth sets forth strong, Christian reasons in opposition to keeping Schiavo on a feeding tube, in favor of stem cell research, and in opposition to a amendment on gay marriage.  If you want a lesson in how to pull someone back from the brink of wing-nuttery, it would hard to find better source material.

This isn’t the first time that Danforth has shown himself in opposition to the radical fundamentalist right.  Back in March, he did another editorial on how the Republican Party had allowed itself to be turned into an arm of the fundamentalist movement.  In this editorial, he gave a succinct description of why today’s Republican Party was different

I do not fault religious people for political action. Since Moses confronted the pharaoh, faithful people have heard God’s call to political involvement. Nor has political action been unique to conservative Christians. Religious liberals have been politically active in support of gay rights and against nuclear weapons and the death penalty. In America, everyone has the right to try to influence political issues, regardless of his religious motivations.
The problem is not with people or churches that are politically active. It is with a party that has gone so far in adopting a sectarian agenda that it has become the political extension of a religious movement.

You can imagine how that went over in wingnut land.  Even now, people down at the church that Ashcroft’s daddy founded are studying pictures of Danforth under powerful magnifying lenses to see if they can spot a 666 in his hair.

You want to see a real Republican?  You want to see a real moderate?  Don’t look toward John McCain, who will pop his head up when the polls look favorable, but toe the company line as soon as the cameras are off.  

Look at John Danforth.  Former senator, former UN Ambassador, Episcopalian Minister, Missourian.