Good and Evil are human ideas. That’s because they presume choice of action. Dog-pal Henry has no choice. What he does is what he must. He cannot be bad. When we say “Bad dog” – not often – it means that he’s disappointed us, which he regrets, not that he’s chosen wrong. If he helps himself to food within reach, that’s sensible – obviously! – not evil.

Most humans want to be good – that is, think well of themselves, flatter themselves for doing right. But how are we to distinguish Good from Evil? Our nimble minds characterize the expedient as Good: best for all means best for me. Who’s to contradict our conclusion? What authority can overrule our God-given mind?

This conundrum is not an abstract thought-exercise. The question quivers beneath every choice. Good and Evil, Right and Wrong, Better or Worse – says who? “Law? What do care about the law. Haven’t I got the power?” crowed railroad magnate Cornelius Vanderbilt – and others in authority more recently.

I see the current battle for America’s soul as existential, not political. I differ fundamentally from the Nameless One and his goons about Good and Evil and the right way to be. I pledge my allegiance to Truth, Decency, Kindness, Courtesy, Peace, etc. and they to their opposite, as their actions prove. I believe I can demonstrate the preferability of my values to theirs – why goodness is a good idea – but my heart is sure even if my tongue is tied. I know because, well, it’s obvious. I don’t doubt they feel the same about their convictions.

A war between Good and Evil differs from a contest for material advantage. Good and Evil are absolutes, which cannot split the difference and get along. One cannot argue, for example, that truth is sometimes preferable to deceit, sometimes not. Either you believe in truth or you don’t. Ditto with all fundamental precepts. I am not somewhat opposed to America’s present leadership, but absolutely. They must be extirpated, not just defeated, for they are rotten to the core. Their reckless actions suggest they feel similarly about me and mine. They want to trash our house, not redesign it. The plan to cover over the White House Rose Garden with concrete seems an apt metaphor.

What makes me so sure I’m right and they’re wrong? Isn’t any idealism self-interest in disguise? Doesn’t Good always mean good for me? To each their definitions!

Here is the crux of human confusion, our genius and our doom. We can think our way to either wisdom or folly, mistake Evil for Good. Ask Eve. How do we protect ourselves from the stupidity we’re prone to? How do I?

I’m not sure we can, not on our own. We need faith, a belief that dwells beyond Reason’s reach, that certainty some call God. When God visited me a few years ago, that was His message: “You know Good from Evil. You don’t need me to tell you. You don’t need to be convinced. You know.” Montaigne, who hadn’t much use for God, arrived at a like conclusion. “I have my own laws and court to judge me,” he wrote, “and I address myself to them more than anywhere else.” Santayana too, with no reference to the supernatural: “That life is worth living,” he wrote, “is the most necessary of assumptions, and were it not assumed, the most impossible of conclusions.”

Faith is the gift of Evil. For this I thank the Nameless One. By threatening what I cherish, he showed me how deeply I cherish it. A war to the death forces us to choose sides.