Redemption and Character

Ted Kennedy’s death results inevitably in a review of his life—origins and influences, early behavior, and a long public run that rendered him the Lion of the Senate. I reflect on two significant aspects of Mr. Kennedy's life: redemption and character.

There is no denying Mr. Kennedy’s failures and shortcomings that seem rooted in his family’s privilege and ambition. (The family fortune had dubious sources and the patriarch father’s legendary immorality set a bad example.)

Mr. Kennedy bounced from boarding school to boarding school. Harvard expelled him for cheating. As a young senator, he walked away from a tragic accident that resulted in the death of an attractive young woman. By credible anecdotal accounts he long remained an alcoholic and womanizer.

Yet after his unsuccessful insurgent run for president against Jimmy Carter in 1980, Mr. Kennedy was a diligent senator who mastered procedure and reached across the aisle to work/compromise with the opposition party. He was an effective legislator and a leader of the political progressives. Jessie Jackson has judged him “the tallest tree” in the forest of civil rights.

After a much publicized divorce, he settled into a later life marriage that appeared harmonious. (The straight-laced Orrin Hatch was compelled to write a song, "Souls Along the Way," about Teddy and wife Vicky.) For the family he became beloved and revered "Uncle Teddy." Publicly he was considerate, congenial, and charming.

I struggle with my estimation of Ted Kennedy—the balance of his 77 years. My struggle relates to redemption—the cheap grace that so many seek after committing egregious acts. But I also recognize that an examined life can have a positive moral arc, an arc that bends toward better and better character. (Maybe Chappaquiddick and equivalent behavior in Mr. Kennedy’s midlife caused him to reflect and as a result he changed his moral trajectory. Here you might review his 1969 speech regarding Chappaquddick, judged by some to be among the hundred best.)

In the end I affirm that every human life is best understood as a work in progress—a continuing process of examination and adjustment. The moral arc of a life ought to bend toward goodness. Let this be the standard of redemption and character.