This Congress is simply not doing its job under Republican

The words of Jim Cooper — “This Congress is simply not doing its job under Republican leadership” — are more than a moment of political criticism; they are a lament for the failure of governance, the erosion of duty, and the silence of conscience within the chambers of power. In every age, when leaders forget that their authority is a sacred trust and not a private prize, the voice of the people grows faint and the spirit of democracy falters. Cooper’s words echo the timeless warning of the ancients: when those who hold the reins of power cease to serve the common good, the very foundations of the state begin to crumble.

In the ancient republics of Greece and Rome, governance was seen not merely as administration, but as a moral act — a form of stewardship before the gods and before history. To govern poorly was not just incompetence; it was sacrilege. When Cooper declares that Congress is “not doing its job,” he is not merely pointing to inefficiency; he is invoking this ancient moral law — the belief that leaders who neglect their duty betray both the living and the unborn. The Republican leadership, in his view, has allowed partisanship to eclipse purpose, ambition to outweigh service. It is a tragedy as old as civilization: when pride replaces principle, the nation itself begins to decay.

Consider the story of Rome’s decline, when the Senate — once a council of wise statesmen — became a hollow stage for vanity. The senators debated endlessly, not to uplift the people, but to advance their factions and preserve their privileges. Cicero, the great orator, spoke out against this decay, lamenting that those entrusted with the fate of Rome had forgotten the virtue of self-sacrifice. His warnings went unheeded, and the Republic fell into chaos and empire. So too, Cooper’s words serve as a modern echo of Cicero’s cry: that when the lawmakers cease to labor for justice, they no longer serve the people — they serve only themselves.

There is in this quote a deep yearning for accountability — for leadership that is not measured by speeches or slogans, but by the quiet labor of doing what is right. The job of Congress is not simply to wield power, but to build harmony, to balance liberty with responsibility, and to govern for the good of all. Yet, when party lines become iron walls, and truth becomes the casualty of strategy, the machinery of democracy grinds to a halt. A Congress that fails to act, to legislate, to heal division, becomes a shadow of its purpose — a chorus of noise without the music of justice.

In the story of Abraham Lincoln, we see the opposite truth. In a time of division more violent than our own, he did not hide behind party loyalty or political comfort. He bore the weight of every life lost, every law broken, every heart divided. His leadership was not about dominance, but duty. He faced Congress and the nation not as a partisan, but as a servant of destiny. Through patience, moral courage, and vision, he restored faith in the power of government to serve the people rather than to rule them. This is the standard by which Cooper’s words must be understood — not as partisan reproach, but as a call to return to the ancient virtue of responsibility.

Cooper’s statement, stripped of its political skin, becomes a universal truth: when any institution, whether political, spiritual, or personal, forgets its purpose, it ceases to live. Leadership without action is hollow; authority without service is tyranny. The failure of Congress is not merely a failure of lawmaking — it is a failure of moral imagination, of the willingness to look beyond party to the needs of the people. Every age must face this test, for every generation has its own form of corruption — not always of money, but of spirit.

The lesson, therefore, is eternal: do your duty, even when it brings no applause. In public office, in business, in family, in every circle of human responsibility — the soul of leadership lies in service. The wise do not wait for others to act; they become the action itself. When systems stall and leaders falter, the righteous must rise — not in anger, but in resolve. For the Republic, in every age, is not sustained by the eloquence of its speeches, but by the honor of those who labor faithfully in silence.

So let this teaching be passed down: leadership is not the art of winning, but the art of serving truth. The failure of Congress, or of any leader, is not a distant tragedy — it is a mirror for all who have forgotten that responsibility is sacred. Do not let your own sphere of influence fall into the same neglect. Let every man and woman become a keeper of justice in their own domain. For when each fulfills their duty with honesty and courage, the nation itself is reborn — and the ancient promise of righteous governance lives again.