Governor Mark Sanford, at that teary-eyed press conference in which he admitted having an affair and not telling his staff exactly where he was during what he led them to believe was an Appalachian hiking trip, made it clear that his intent was to focus on the business of South Carolina.

Instead, he seems to be focusing on apology after apology. 

This time, he wrote an Op-Ed piece which was released to the media for publication today.  He acknowledged that a “handwritten note or phone call” would have been better, but because of the sheer number of people he’d owe such a gesture, publishing an open letter was a better solution.

That, and the fact that there may well be plenty of South Carolinians angry enough to not answer the phone, he did not add.

His apology — and this is probably the fourth or fifth public apology he’s made by now…I’ve lost count…comes to three critical points he says are most apparent to him at this point.

First, there’s this:

“One, forgiveness and grace really do matter. I used to believe that at an intellectual level, now it is at the level of heart. Over my life I have not given enough of either, and yet given all the ways in which my failings have come to light, I write to apologize for, in the most profound of ways, letting you and so many others down.  In life it’s always the people closest to us that we hurt the most, and given my standing of public trust, I know I’ve hurt many across our state.  I apologize for this, and more than anything would ask for your forgiveness going forward.”

He certainly didn’t offer much forgiveness when he appointed himself a judge and jury against Bill Clinton, who he insisted should have been impeached for lying about his affair with Monica Lewinsky.  It’s certainly different when you’re suddenly the one who is asking for forgiveness.  But when you campaign against someone after setting a high moral standard that you say you expect everyone to follow, then abandon that moral standard — and the consequences you insist go with failing to meet it — when you take a tumble, it makes your apology lose a good bit of its impact.

When he was condemning Bill Clinton’s actions, did he spend much time worrying about Hillary and Chelsea, those who Clinton undoubtedly hurt the most?  It sure didn’t seem that way.  He seemed far more interested in seeing Clinton’s political head on a platter.

I’m still wondering if he’ll ever offer an apology to the former President.

Sanford’s second realization is this:

“Two, life is indeed about way more than public standing or political views, it’s about recognizing that none of us are the arbiters of truth, that there are moral absolutes, and that there is a God to whom we will all report for our actions.  My failure has been most glaring on this front, where no public apology can make wrong right.  As a consequence, it is on this plane that I’ve grown the most over the past weeks – and where I’m committed to growing the most going forward.”

No public apology may be able to make wrong right, but he sure is committed to publicly apologizing, anyway.  I’m glad, though, he seems to have begun to realize that none of us are exactly models of perfection.  I can only hope more of his Republican Moral Police colleagues can come to the same realization before the next one of them stumbles over a rough patch on their moral high ground.

“Finally it is at your funeral that you in many ways not only can see most clearly the things that really matter in life, but where one gets the best glimpse of who your real friends are – and how much they matter. For that reason, I want to thank so many for their kindnesses and support over the years and for their kindness in this latest chapter in our book together as South Carolinians.”

Who, exactly, does Sanford consider his “real friends?”  Only those who support him?  That’s the right political answer, of course, but is it the right Christian answer?

One of my best friends, as regular readers here know by now, is a worship pastor.  He and I hold each other to higher standards than we hold people who may not be believers.  We know things about each other that a lot of people, most people, probably don’t know.  And we made it a point to tell each other those things so we could pray for and challenge each other to overcome those qualities.

The odd thing is that neither of us resent each other for this.  It’s one of those things that strengthens, not damages, our friendship.  Criticism isn’t easy to take from people who are close to you.  It hurts.  Sometimes, it hurts deeply, even when you know it is offered by someone who loves you like family.  And when we know we’ve done something that warrants that kind of criticism, receiving it doesn’t mean for a moment that either of us has lost a friend.  Giving it hurts, too.

Sanford’s Op/Ed makes it sound like his friends are only those who have been supportive of him to the extent that they want him to keep right on running things.

That’s not what “friends” are about.  But it doesn’t sound like he’s thanking friends so much as those who want him to stay put, and there often is a big difference.

What’s really funny to me are the people who want Sanford to stay, despite the scandal, because they don’t want Lieutenant Governor Andre Bauer in office.  Some of them say that his brush with state troopers over speeding means he’s not ready to be governor.

So they’ll forgive Sanford unconditionally, but not even give Bauer a chance?

Quite a curious take on forgetting and forgiving these people have.