The man’s name is Roy Moore, and he’s had a colorful life that includes brief stints as a professional karate fighter in Texas and a cattle wrangler in Australia. But on Jan. 21, when he stepped onto the campus of Georgetown University to get his honorary degree — a Doctorate of Divinity from National Clergy Council Board of Scholars and the Methodist Episcopal Church USA — it was because of a much more prominent role.

Moore happens to be chief justice of the Alabama Supreme Court. He also happens to be a Christian who's convinced that, historically, our nation’s laws have been built on a biblical foundation. So when he got appointed as a circuit court judge in 1992, he took a homemade plaque of the Ten Commandments and posted it in his courtroom.

Moore knew he was asking for trouble. “My first thought,” he told Citizen magazine (in an article you can read here) “was ‘I'll get sued. And I don't want to get sued and I don't want to lose my job.’ ” Still, Moore believed God was in charge of his life and had led him to his position — one which he'd failed to win in an elective bid a decade earlier. “I didn’t hear voices, but I had told everybody that God put me here; now this plaque was honoring God and I couldn't display it? I was ashamed?”

Sure enough, Moore did get sued. He fought it in state courts for years on end, eventually winning, albeit on technical grounds. Then he ran for chief justice of the Alabama Supreme Court, pledging that he’d acknowledge God as he administered the laws of Alabama. He won, and a few months later he planted a 5,000-pound monument (paid for with private money, not tax dollars) in the court’s rotunda — bearing those same Ten Commandments, as well as a collection of quotes from prominent historical figures testifying to God's role in government. (To see the monument, click here.)

And naturally, he got sued again. A few months ago a federal court ordered Moore to have the monument removed. Moore fought back again. He appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court. But he didn’t merely ask for a supportive ruling; he straight up asserted that the federal government had no authority over state government in this area. Furthermore, in interviews he’s made it clear that, if the ruling goes against him, there’s still no way he’s going to obey it. The Commandments are staying put.

At this point even some Christians may have a problem with Moore. Isn’t he obliged to obey federal courts whether or not he agrees with them? Isn’t he promoting lawlessness by defying them? And what about the separation of church and state?

Well, here’s where things get educational.

Moore’s right, first of all, about the faith of the founders. It’s widely claimed in schools up through the university level that the founders weren’t Christians but deists — believers in an impersonal god who made the universe and then went away. While that was true of a few, it wasn’t true of the vast majority. Of the 55 framers of the Constitution, the late University of Dallas historian M.E. Bradford found that “with no more than five exceptions, they were orthodox members of one of the established Christian communions.” He noted that “references made by the Framers to Jesus Christ as Redeemer and Son of God. . . . are commonplace in their private papers, correspondence and public remarks — and in the early records of their lives.”

And they did a lot more than talk:

The variety of surviving Christian witness in the papers and sayings of the Framers is indeed astonishing. Elias Boudinot of New Jersey was heavily involved in Christian missions and was the founder of the American Bible Society. Roger Sherman . . . was a ruling elder of his church. Richard Bassett rode joyfully with his former slaves to share in the enthusiasm of their singing on the way to Methodist camp meetings. . . . John Dickinson of Delaware wrote persuasive letters to youthful friends concerning the authority of Scripture and the soundness of Christian evidences. . . . both James Madison and Alexander Hamilton regularly led their households in the observance of family prayers.

Moore’s also right about the influence of faith on government. The founders were heavily influenced by English figures like Sir William Blackstone in their argument that rights and liberties came from God. State constitutions in the era regularly spoke of “Almighty God” or used other terms of praise: Massachusetts declared it “the right, as well as the duty, of all men . . . to worship the Supreme Being . . . and Preserver of the Universe.” Several states (New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, South Carolina, Maryland) provided funding or property to churches; a couple (Pennsylvania and North Carolina) required officeholders to pledge belief in the divine inspiration of Scripture. The notion that the Ten Commandments had no place in a government building was alien to Americans of that era, and for that matter of all eras except the current one.

Most Americans today have never heard of those diverse arrangements. That’s because they never were taught that the First Amendment wasn’t meant to apply to the states; it was only meant to prevent the federal government from establishing a one-size-fits-all national church or from infringing on religious liberties.

And here again, Moore is right. “The framers believed, as a matter of federalism, that the Constitution denied the national government all jurisdiction over religion,” wrote American University historian Daniel Dreisbach. “State and local governments, not the federal regime . . . were the basic and vital political units of the day. Thus, it was fitting that the people expressed religious preferences and affiliations through state and local charters.”

That doesn’t mean the authors of the Constitution were indifferent to which policies individual states pursued. It only means they thought it far more important to keep governmental decisions close to home — and far more dangerous to allow the central government to override the decisions of states, communities, families and voluntary associations. They were convinced of that by experience and historical studies, but above all by their Christian understanding of original sin: Since man couldn’t be trusted, power mustn’t be concentrated.

I like to think about what it would be like if we restored the Constitution that’s been dismantled over the years. States could make laws protecting unborn children from abortion; local schools wouldn’t be controlled by federal courts; taxes would be largely collected at the state level, meaning they’d be dramatically lower everywhere (no state could afford high taxes because they’d drive people to low-tax states). Not every state would do things right by my lights, but we’d have a lot more options than we do now — now, when big-government programs and sky-high taxes are unavoidable and federal judges step in to squelch so much as a prayer at a high school football game.

Reclaiming self-government is impossible only if nobody knows the option exists. In reminding us of our religious and legal heritage, Roy Moore’s reminding us that it does exist. And in standing against federal court orders to cover up that heritage, Moore’s seeking to restore the rule of law against a federal government that is acting lawlessly by usurping powers it was never meant to possess.

For services like that, an honorary degree is just the beginning of the honors he deserves.

Readers interested in learning more about Judge Moore’s ongoing fight for the Ten Commandments can do so at www.tencommandmentsdefense.org. Those who want to learn more about America’s religious heritage can find information at www.wallbuilders.com. Those interested in reading my previous writings on this subject (from late 2000) can find them here and here.