When I first got the word that Supreme Court justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg had died, I prepared myself for a plethora of responses from the progressive left. I anticipated the voices who would immediately disregard her humanity and think only of politics.
I expected those who chastise her posthumously for being so selfish as to pass on retirement when President Obama could have picked her replacement, saving her legacy.
I fully counted on observing many betray the fact that it was never really about respecting her, as much as it was maintaining the legal right to kill inconvenient children.
And I actually prepared myself for the completely over-the-top, cringeworthy tributes by those who vastly overestimated her importance.
But I'll come clean and admit I didn't expect the bizarre spiritual elevation by some professing Christians of a woman who was, by all accounts, a rabidly secular Jew.
I'm certainly not in favor of speaking ill of the dearly departed. And if it were just the standard political puffery we should just let it slide. Everyone needs a hero. But when those wearing the name of Christ begin to associate the opinions and judgments of Ruth Bader Ginsburg to sound doctrine that makes one a "good and faithful servant" in the eyes of Christ Jesus, someone needs to say something.
Obviously, Ginsburg maintained a hideously evil perspective on the morality of child-killing for convenience. She disliked the Roe v. Wade opinion because, as she pointed out numerous times, it was written in a way that galvanized rather than gutted the pro-life movement. She also believed Roe was too "physician-centered" and not "woman-centered."
As if that isn't morally repulsive enough, Ginsburg famously acknowledged the origin of the "family-planning" abortion movement she promoted was rooted in eugenic racism, telling the New York Times, "Frankly I had thought that at the time Roe was decided, there was concern about population growth and particularly growth in populations that we don't want to have too many of."
She was a staunch opponent of public declarations and acknowledgements of the country's Christian heritage, relentlessly waging judicial war against religious symbolism and imagery. And there was no mistaking where Ginsburg's loyalties lied when it came to the burgeoning conflict between sexual revolutionaries and the constitutional guarantee of religious liberty. To be clear, it wasn't with the Constitution or the men and women of faith it protects.
Two decades before being appointed by Bill Clinton, Ginsburg authored a report urging Congress to abolish Mother's Day and Father's Day for the same reason she would later berate the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts – the perpetuation of (biblically grounded) sex-based distinctions.
Allowing the constitutional expression of faith met persistent resistance from Ginsburg – the same woman who expressed sympathy for the view that there exists a constitutional right to both prostitution and bigamy.
So listen, exalt Ruth Bader Ginsburg as your pagan prophetess; hail her, celebrate her, champion her with zeal. But don't misrepresent her and futilely attempt to shoehorn her into the mold of some faithful spiritual warrior. She was a secular radical, her own mind was her church, her cause was anything but Christ's, and intellectual and spiritual integrity demands we not mistake those facts.