Colson Betrays Self, Faith with Statements Condeming "Deep Throat" Souce Mark Felt

When I was a junior in college, I was a sports writer for my school newspaper, The DePauw. At one point, I got a tip from a source that a bookie in Indianapolis who was placing illegal bets had been busted by state authorities. The clincher was that several members of our 9-0 football team, who were headed for a conference championship, had been found in this man's books, placing bets on college football.

Now, as you know, placing bets on college football when you play college football is illegal. Even if you're not in the actual game, the fact you're in the NCAA as an athlete means you can not bet on NCAA football.

So our team's star quarterback, our team's star wide receiver and a rarely used back-up quarterback were all under NCAA investigation, and were going to be suspended from the team for a little while. The team tried to keep this whole thing under wraps. The coach told the team members specifically NOT to say ANYTHING to the media - meaning me. But I got the story anyway, and wrote it up. I think I actually might have won an award for it from the Society of Professional Journalists.

But Dave Wheeler, who was the rarely used back-up quarterback, was in an class called "Contemporary Playwrights" with me from 7-10 on Tuesday nights. I remember the day after the paper came out with my story, he was in a class with me. The teacher, who reminded me a lot of Jabba the Hut, was kind enough to bring up the fact that Wheeler had been in the paper and that I had written the article, and that now, we were in the same room. Nice of him.

"So, Mr. Wheeler. I hear you have a gambling problem," the teacher, Fred Nelson, said, laughing and throwing his giant head back.

"Yea. I'm an addict, I guess," Wheeler said, through his teeth, glaring at me.

I sat there, arms folded, unblinking.

"This all would not have been a big deal if the newspaper hadn't made such a big deal out of it," he said, referring to me.

I'd had enough.

"Actually, it wouldn't have been a big deal if you hadn't bet on college football," I said. It was one of those times in my life when I didn't think of the perfect come-back line seven hours later.

Wheeler stood up, his wooden chair falling back.

"You want me to f*ck you up, you worthless piece of..." Wheeler said, pounding his fist on the table. He was so mad, I thought he was going to crawl across the table and like, bite me, but his buddy grabbed his belt and sat him back down.

"Heh heh heh." Nelson laughed, his giant body a casement of flesh that heaved up and down. "Now that's what I call drama! Heh heh heh."

At break I got on my bike and rode to the paper. I didn't want to hang around outside class for Wheeler. And I figured at least I'd have reinforcements at the paper. Although most of my friends at the paper were mightier with the pen than with the sword, if you know what I'm saying.

It's called blowing the whistle.

And it's not popular, especially among those upon whom the whistle is blown. But I've always been taught that when you see something wrong, you need to do something to prevent it or stop it. Even if it's unpopular.

So, for example, if the company that I work for is lying about the books that it keeps, and I know, it's my responsibility to alert the authorities.

Or, if I have a student who is being abused at home, and I see evidence, or the student tells me, then I actually am mandated by state law to blow the whistle.

Or, if my boss, who happens to be the President of the USA is breaking the law, and there's a massive government cover-up, and I'm the Deputy Director of the FBI, then I blow the whistle.

I'm talking, of course, about Deep Throat, the anonymous source used by Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein who uncovered a shocking abuse of power by then President Richard Nixon. For decades, the identity of this source was unknown, until former Deputy Director of the FBI, Mark Felt recently came forward and admitted it was him.

The scandal that Felt helped the Washington Post uncover eventually resulted in dozens of Nixon aides being arrested and jailed. One of the most famous of those imprisoned was Charles Colson, the head of White House communications, who served jail time. During that sentence, Colson began to seriously reconsider his direction in life and as he recounts in his famous biography "Loving God" it was because of prison that he came to know Jesus Christ.

Felt's willingness to shine light in some very dark places eventually caused Colson to see the light. Eventually, because of Colson's experiences in prison he started "Prison Fellowship Ministries." Thousands have heard the good news because of Colson's efforts.

Which is why I'm really, really, really, really, really confused about his public condemnation of Mark Felt. I read this quote this morning.

Chuck Colson, the head of White House communications in 1972, Felt could have helped America avoid a wrenching political crisis, the ripple effect of which was felt in the country for decades, if he had gone through proper channels.

"Mark Felt could have stopped Watergate," said Colson, who served time in jail and is now an evangelical Christian broadcaster. "He was in a position of that kind of influence. Instead, he goes out and basically undermines the administration."

What? What? Felt didn't undemine the administration. Nixon did. Colson did. G. Gordon Liddy did.

Colson should be thanking God for Mark Felt. His denouncement of him strikes me as shockingly hypocritical. Is this Colson's new ethic? Is he really implying that keeping political power - saving the face of the president - is more important than anything else in the whole world, including truth and doing what is right?

That's kind of what you'd expect from politicians. But not Christians.

I am getting so sick of politics.