"Donald Trump is not my spiritual adviser, but I find myself on an enlightening journey with the man.
From the beginning, Trump hasn’t exactly acted like a statesman.
In fact, he makes Ferris Bueller look like John Foster Dulles.
But then, he beat my guy fair and square.
So unlike the Republican establishment, I got behind him.
The disclosure of his shabby words about women was the last of a whole bale of ugly straws, and it finally broke me.
Initially, it felt good to break with Trump.
He’s just not a gentleman, I sniffed.
I’m better than him, I boasted to myself.
Moral sanctimony is a buzz, and it’s addictive.
I was not just high on my horse; I was just plain high.
But I thought more about it.
I talked with friends I’ve made in other journeys, with professional women and with religious people.
I even prayed a little, which for me is praying a lot.
I realized that my feel-good trip was exactly the repulsive feel-good that I’d seen earlier in the Republican establishment.
It was a pose.
It was self-bestowed.
It was a cheap grace.
Yes, Trump is crude.
I never want to be with him in a locker room or anywhere else.
He’s deeply flawed.
But so am I.
As a deeply flawed man myself, I don’t have the moral authority to judge Trump as a man.
I can only judge him as a potential president, and in that I can only judge him in comparison with the other candidate.
That would be Hillary Clinton.
Remember her?
Assisted by countless establishment lackeys pleading the Fifth (the most recent being a State Department employee who did so 90 times last week alone) she’s the person who did for emails what her husband did for cigars — made them disappear..."
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