Yesterday’s closed-door briefing to lawmakers on U.S. actions in Venezuela did little to resolve the most troubling questions raised by the operation. If anything, it exposed a widening gap between executive power and moral clarity. Members of Congress emerged divided not merely over tactics or outcomes, but over first principles: who authorizes force, what limits bind the presidency, and whether the United States still believes that power must answer to law rather than redefine it after the fact.

That tension matters because this was not a routine foreign-policy maneuver. The operation involved the forcible seizure of a foreign head of state, followed by retroactive explanation to Congress. Regardless of one’s view of Nicolás Maduro’s regime—which is brutal, corrupt, and morally indefensible—the manner of action sets a precedent. The briefing confirmed that the administration views this as a narrow, justified strike rather than an act requiring prior congressional consent. Critics see something more alarming: a unilateral assertion that success itself can stand in for authorization.

At the heart of the controversy is not sympathy for a dictator, but concern for righteous authority exercised in conformity with an objective moral and legal order, not merely justified by outcomes.

Righteousness, Authority, and the Rule of Law

This is where the often-mocked claim that “Christians can’t even agree on what righteousness means” becomes relevant, not as a religious slogan, but as a philosophical test. The charge sounds decisive, yet it misunderstands both disagreement and moral reasoning. Christianity has consistently defined righteousness as conformity to God’s character and will, an objective standard that exists whether humans agree on its implications. Christians debate how righteousness is applied, justified, and evidenced, but not what it is. God is righteous; humanity is not; righteousness is necessary for fellowship; and it must be provided, not invented.

That distinction matters politically. Disagreement over application does not negate the existence of a moral standard. On the contrary, it presupposes one. In Scripture, tensions such as those between Paul and James are resolved by recognizing that they address different questions—how righteousness is received versus how it is demonstrated—not by redefining righteousness itself. Serious disagreement signals moral weight, not moral confusion.

By contrast, modern political power often operates as though righteousness is established retroactively: if an action “works,” it is declared legitimate; if it advances national interests, it’s deemed justified. This is not moral realism. It’s expediency dressed as virtue.

Executive Power and the Illusion of Moral Consensus

The Venezuela briefing revealed an administration confident that moral clarity can be asserted without procedural restraint. Supporters argue that decisive action against a criminal regime is self-justifying, especially when Congress is slow, divided, or unreliable. But that argument quietly replaces righteousness with efficiency. It assumes that unity of outcome matters more than legitimacy of process.

The problem is not merely constitutional, though the Constitution’s assignment of war-making authority to Congress is unambiguous. The deeper problem is moral. Authority that answers only to itself cannot remain righteous for long, because it lacks an external standard by which to be judged. The administration’s assurances that this will not become an “endless war” ring hollow precisely because no binding framework has been articulated to restrain future action.

This is where the Christian moral tradition offers a sharper critique than secular partisanship. Righteousness, properly understood, is not validated by unanimity, speed, or success. It’s measured against a standard that transcends the actor. Disagreement doesn’t weaken that standard; it proves that the standard is real enough to matter.

The International Cost of Moral Shortcuts

Internationally, the consequences are equally serious. Seizing a foreign leader without a declared state of war erodes norms the United States has long insisted others respect. Even if Maduro deserves prosecution, the method of his removal matters. Justice pursued without lawful authority risks becoming indistinguishable from vengeance or domination.

When the U.S. acts as though moral clarity flows from power rather than constrains it, it invites other nations to do the same. Russia, China, and regional powers will not interpret this as principled leadership; they will interpret it as permission. The rules-based order does not collapse all at once. It erodes when exceptions become habits.

Why This Moment Matters

The lawmakers’ unease after the briefing is therefore justified. This is not about defending a tyrant. It’s about defending the idea that even righteous ends must be pursued righteously.

The deeper weakness exposed by this episode is modern politics’ inability to ground moral language at all. Demands for perfect consensus are selectively applied, often by worldviews that can’t explain why moral terms should bind power in the first place.

The Venezuela operation may yet yield short-term gains. But unless Congress reasserts its constitutional role and the administration articulates a morally coherent, legally constrained strategy, those gains will come at the cost of something far more valuable: the principle that power is accountable to righteousness, not the other way around.

And once that principle is lost, no briefing—however long—can recover it.