Washington, D.C., never lacks for drama, but every now and then the Republican caucus serves up an episode spicy enough to make daytime television blush. This time, the plot centers on something far more consequential than committee assignments or who accidentally unplugged the espresso machine in the Capitol cafeteria. House Republicans have found themselves in an unexpected internal struggle over the looming expiration of the ACA premium subsidies, the tax credits that help millions of Americans actually afford the health insurance they’re required to buy.

Moderate Republicans, who have been quietly chewing antacids ever since this deadline began creeping closer, have now launched discharge petitions to force a vote on extending the subsidies. This move is basically the congressional equivalent of saying, “If leadership won’t open the garage door, we’re crawling through the window.” Meanwhile, GOP leaders prefer to let the subsidies end and offer a grab bag of free-market alternatives, such as expanded Health Savings Accounts, which are terrific for people who already have money, and somewhat less thrilling for folks whose HSA currently contains $7.43 and a coupon for rotisserie chicken.

The stakes are real, and this isn’t just policy theater. If nothing is done, Americans across the political spectrum will see their premiums spike like a bad EKG. It is entirely possible to dislike the Affordable Care Act, oppose its structure, pray daily for the return of genuine free-market medical pricing, and still acknowledge that letting these subsidies vanish overnight would create serious financial pain for families who had no part in crafting the law to begin with. Conservatives strive for limited government, not limited compassion, and the difference matters.

Limited government does not mean shrugging while ordinary families face health-care costs that rival mortgage payments. It means recognizing that human dignity is best served when people are empowered, not abandoned. And though conservatives rightly argue for long-term reforms that reduce government dependency, real-world transitions require… well, an actual transition. You don’t toss a family into the deep end of the pool and then lecture them about the virtues of swimming lessons.

This brings us to an unexpected but strangely fitting parallel: Genesis 3:7. Scripture tells us: “And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons.”

Skeptics have tried to reinterpret this verse in every way imaginable. Some claim it’s a psychological parable about early human self-consciousness. Others insist it’s ancient myth patched together from Near Eastern folklore. Some treat it as a poetic tale explaining why humans wear pants and get embarrassed at the beach. Every generation invents new fig leaves to cover the uncomfortable reality that the text confronts us with: human beings are deeply inclined to hide from God, from accountability, and sometimes from the consequences of their own decisions.

It is this instinct to reinterpret rather than repent that echoes faintly through the current debate in Congress. When leaders insist that allowing subsidies to expire is merely “fiscal responsibility,” or that families can simply migrate to HSAs as though financial hardship were a matter of personal preference, we see a modern political version of sewing fig leaves. The rationalizations may be intricate, but they have the same purpose they had in Eden: to avoid facing the true moral weight of a choice.

Just as some skeptics rename Adam and Eve’s rebellion as “enlightenment,” some politicians are tempted to rename potentially harmful inaction as “principle.” But principle should never be a shield used to deflect responsibility. True principle looks squarely at both the moral and practical consequences of a policy decision. It asks honestly whether the people affected will be lifted up or pushed down, whether the path is guided by prudence or by pride.

One of the failures of modern skepticism toward Genesis 3:7 is its refusal to deal with the reality of guilt. It explains shame as an evolutionary fluke, a social adaptation, a cultural artifact, anything except what Scripture presents it as: the soul’s alarm bell signaling separation from God. Modern political behavior sometimes mirrors this intellectual dodge. When Congress passes clumsy laws, the blame is shifted to the “process.” When policies harm families, the fault is placed on “market forces.” When legislators refuse to act, the burden is conveniently assigned to “unavoidable trade-offs.”

These explanations are fig leaves of a newer vintage, but fig leaves nonetheless.

The story of Genesis 3:7 is abrupt for a reason. Eyes opening is not an evolutionary milestone; it is an awakening to consequences. Adam and Eve didn’t hide because society invented modesty. They hid because conscience revealed reality. Likewise, lawmakers cannot hide behind rhetorical coverings when real families face premiums that could uproot their financial stability. Eventually, the truth reveals itself, and no amount of political tailoring can disguise it.

What conservatives ought to champion is not a cold, ideological purism that treats human hardship as acceptable collateral damage, but a principled, responsible stewardship that balances the need for reform with the immediate needs of citizens. Extending the ACA subsidies temporarily does not require conservatives to embrace the ACA as eternal gospel. It simply acknowledges that governance is not a game of Jenga where the goal is to see how much you can remove before the whole structure collapses.

A truly conservative approach would recognize that while the long-term goal is a freer, more transparent, more competitive health-care system, the short-term responsibility is to prevent abrupt shocks that harm the very people conservatives claim to represent. Compassion and prudence are not competing values; they are complementary ones. The goal is not to capitulate to the status quo but to ensure that reform does not become a euphemism for upheaval.

And of course, as Scripture reminds us, wisdom is not automatic. “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God…” (James 1:5). Given the state of congressional discourse these days, I’d humbly suggest that both parties — and especially the warring GOP factions — set aside at least a few minutes of prayer time between TV interviews and caucus meetings.

Here’s hoping that Republicans lean into the kind of governance that strengthens families rather than testing their limits. Let them remember that conservatism at its best does not hide behind fig leaves or rhetorical maneuvers. It faces reality with clarity, conscience, and courage. And it refuses, absolutely refuses, to play political hardball with people’s livelihoods.

Eden may be lost, but that doesn’t mean Congress needs to reenact the moral logic that got humanity exiled in the first place. Let’s pray that the next time lawmakers sew something together, it’s not fig leaves but a workable, compassionate, and responsible plan that serves real Americans with real needs.