No one explained Polanski's absence during the ceremony, and you can see why; acknowledging his horrific crime certainly would've have put a damper on the glamour of the night. Polanski was charged with rape and five other felonies in 1977 after the incident with then 13-year-old Samantha Geimer. He invited the girl to his friend Jack Nicholson's house (Nicholson was away at the time) under the pretext of photographing her for a magazine. Geimer testified to the grand jury that Polanski photographed her nude, gave her champagne and part of a Quaalude, performed oral sex on her and then raped her, reported The Washington Post. In a deal with prosecutors, Polanski pled guilty to having sex with an underage girl, but then jumped bail and fled before his sentencing.

But that didn't stop many of the Hollywood elite from giving him a standing ovation and praising him in the media accounts about the ceremony. Polanski got resounding applause (even some standing ovations) from the audience at the Academy Awards. "Roman Polanski deserves this. He's a great director and a wonderful colleague," screenwriter Ronald Harwood told the British newspaper The Guardian after the awards ceremony. (Harwood won the Oscar for best adapted screenplay for The Pianist.)

Polanski's supporters offered a variety of excuses, all noteworthy for their sheer moral squishiness. Some said that the crime should be forgotten because it happened decades ago. Others pointed to the public letter Geimer wrote recently, saying that Polanski's work should be judged on its own merit. Many say that the case shows that an artist's private life and his work aren't related.

These arguments are not only outside the law, they're usurping the justice system. It's not that convicts should never be allowed to move beyond their crimes after they do their time. But Polanski never did his time. "He's a convicted felon and a fugitive, and that's not going to go away," Los Angeles County District Attorney spokeswoman Sandi Gibbons told MSNBC. "You don't get a pass for longevity."

The Polanski situation, like any other criminal act, goes beyond its effects on the perpetrator and the victim. Criminal acts like rape are also committed against society. The plaintiff in criminal cases is "The People" and prosecuting attorneys argue on their behalf. Polanski's fugitive status, and his subsequent recognition with an Academy Award, has broad repercussions: The justice system was publicly mocked, and rape victims have seen a fugitive rapist glorified.

I can think of a couple reasons that explain why the entertainment industry would turn a blind eye toward Polanski's crime. The first is that people in Hollywood are afraid to say anything negative (unless it's something they all agree upon) because filmmaking is a collaborative process and your success is dependent on your image and personal relationships. Actors, screenwriters, producers, directors, editors are nothing without each other. To be among the first to stand up and say anything is wrong, even a criminal act like child rape, could be a career killer.

More fundamentally, though, the entertainment industry, like the rest of society, is snowed under by the philosophies of relativism, the misbegotten idea that individuals and like-minded groups get to define morality for themselves. Sincere adherents to relativism have no grounds to say anything is wrong, even raping a child. And relativism isn't unique to Hollywood. It thrives in mainstream America — in offices, in churches, and especially on college campuses.

Relativism inherently rejects the Judeo-Christian standards that our legal system is built on. Some consider rejecting a universal standard of right and wrong liberating, because the definition of right and wrong can always shift to accommodate personal preferences. When these preferences conflict, people are expected to agree to disagree because "what's right for you is right for you, but what's right for me is right for me."

Of course all this right-and-wrong stuff gets problematic for a relativist. If he says someone is morally wrong, then his own beliefs can be called into question, because everyone's belief system is resting on the same ever-shifting foundation of personal preference. Thus, relativists are committed to the doctrine of "tolerance," which we might sum up as a mutual agreement to all bury their heads in the sand.

When practiced in an intellectual vacuum, relativism and tolerance seem to make sense, at least on (very) brief inspection. Like-minded people agree not to question each other's beliefs, and all can congratulate themselves for their sophistication while sneering at those puritanical people who adhere to traditional values. But ideas have consequences. In a relativist's world, there's no basis to say that Polanski was wrong to drug and have sex with a 13-year-old.

Interestingly, relativists are full of contradictions that demonstrate the weaknesses in their belief system. For instance, it's impossible to claim morality is an individual choice, and to be a supporter of human rights, or the environment or women's rights. A Christian can support these issues because of a belief system that says it's wrong to abuse people, be a poor steward of the environment or deprive women of their dignity. But a relativist can't support these causes with intellectual integrity. After all, who am I to say someone else is wrong?

There's value in exposing these sorts of contradictions. On one level morality and the justice system took a shot when Polanski was given an Academy Award. But feting a convicted and fugitive felon also exposes the dismal depths to which relativism invariably leads. And God can bring something good even out of that evil.

Most people, no matter how theoretically committed they are to relativism, have at least a pang of "this isn't quite right" when they hear about a case like Polanski's. That's the least we can expect since all men have a law written on their hearts (Romans 2:15). Christians, in particular, can use that reaction wisely. If we can get people to recognize just how wrong the dominant worldview is, we (or rather, God acting through us) may open their hearts and minds to a very different worldview: the one built on the God Who made us all.