Dear Mr. Rubio,

While I know you have plenty of mean critics, I assure you that I write this with loving concern specifically for you. You don’t have to do what you’re currently doing. Part of being an American is having the freedom to walk away from something that is not good for you. You can do this at any time. 

Every time I see you on television, you have an extremely pained expression on your face: serious and troubled. Most of your public statements these days are angry, mean-spirited and vindictive. That is a far cry from the aspirational public servant that emerged years ago. You once spoke proudly of your family’s immigration from Cuba, now you are pulling visas based on alleged political ideology. Your family fled persecution from Castro, now you’re persecuting those who have genuine, heartfelt sorrow for victims of war.

We all know you took on Trump in the primary and was thoroughly humiliated. I wonder if you are not being further humiliated by Trump for even daring to question him a decade ago. He’s putting you in numerous no-win situations and actively undermining the things he asks you to do. You sat there in troubled silence while JD Vance verbally abused President Zelensky. You effectively washed your hands of Ukraine as they are merely trying to repel a violent despot in V. Putin. You’ve known the truth all along. You know who the aggressor is. I can’t tell if you’re a bully or a coward. Either way, I mostly just feel sorry for you.

I hear you are a man of faith. As a Pastor and Biblical scholar myself, I was trying to think of who you remind me of. You remind me of the tax collectors in Jesus’ day. The tax collectors were Jews who were working for the Romans, enriching themselves as they oppressively taxed their own people. They were the Benedict Arnolds of their day. Yes, I write this as a criticism, which the First Amendment allows me to do. But I also write this as an illustration of a way out for you.

There are three notable tax collectors in the New Testament. One is Matthew (AKA Levi). Jesus merely called him to follow as he was sitting in his collector’s booth. Levi left everything behind to follow Jesus. The details are subtle, but telling: all the money he had been collecting? He literally left it all on the table and just walked away (Mark 2:13-14). You can do the same.

Another notable tax collector was a man named Zacchaeus. He was a Jew, working for the oppressive Roman government who was also notable for being short. He famously climbed a tree to see Jesus, and Jesus famously invited himself to Zacchaeus’ house for dinner. During the supper, Zacchaeus declares that he would give up tax collecting and he gave himself a penance to pay: ‘I will sell half of what I own, giving the proceeds to the poor, and I will pay back 4x to anyone I have defrauded’ (Luke 19). You can do this, too.

The final tax collector in the scriptures was a nameless character in one of Jesus’ parables. He stood in the Temple, confessing his sins and asking God to forgive him. As the parable goes, the tax collector walks away justified-at peace with God and himself-because he came to terms with who he had become and turned in a better direction. You can do this, too.

Mr. Rubio, you have accumulated a lot of power and are exercising it all over the world. But I wonder if you have considered what it has cost you spiritually. You are clearly wearing your inner turmoil on your sleeve. I hope you have at least one good enough friend who will help you see a better way. I hope you have enough faith to look yourself in the mirror and ask yourself the same question Jesus asked the world 2000+ years ago: “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36) There are ways out where you can salvage your life and dignity. But it will require a significant change. It’s okay to just walk away. It’s okay to look in the mirror and ask: Is the man I have become who I want to be? Is the man I’ve become who God wants me to be? Ask honestly, allow God to answer, and let the truth set you free.