Cannabis Prohibition, Moral Sorting, and the Civic Heresy We Must End
God’s Poor and the Devil’s Poor:
As Holy Week calls millions to reflection on the meaning of suffering, mercy, and redemption, it’s worth examining how these sacred themes are distorted when transposed into public policy—particularly in how we legislate access to cannabis in Texas.
At the heart of Christianity—and especially the Holy Week narrative—is the radical idea that no one is beyond grace, that the suffering Christ stood with the outcast, the criminal, the leper, and the sinner—not because they were blameless, but because mercy is not earned. It is given.
Yet in cannabis policy, we see a stark betrayal of that principle, rooted in a theological artifact that has no place in modern governance: the ancient Protestant moral distinction between the “deserving” and “undeserving” poor—what historians have called God’s Poor vs. the Devil’s Poor.
This moral sorting lives on in the Texas Compassionate Use Program (TCUP), a system so deliberately narrow that it reflects not medical caution but moral gatekeeping. A cancer patient? They pass the test. A veteran with PTSD or a laborer with chronic pain? Denied. Not because they won’t benefit from cannabis—they will—but because they fall on the wrong side of an unspoken, unscientific moral line.
We saw this attitude in 2021, when Sen. Charles Perry opposed including chronic pain in TCUP, claiming “they’d just lie to get high.” That statement didn’t come from science or compassion—it came from a worldview that sorts suffering into categories: sanctified versus suspect. It’s not just stigmatizing—it’s theological in origin and punitive in practice.
And that’s the heresy.
Not religious heresy—but civic heresy. A betrayal of the founding principles that guide our pluralistic democracy. In this country, we do not make law according to theology. We do not ration compassion based on virtue. And we certainly do not let the state decide who is worthy of healing.
This Holy Week, as we remember Christ persecuted by political and religious authorities alike, we must ask: Are we repeating that mistake in our own time, in our own Capitol? Are we denying aid and relief to people who suffer—not because we doubt the medicine, but because we judge the person?
The Christ of Holy Week was not crucified because he helped the righteous. He was crucified because he stood with the condemned and refused to play the sorting game. He broke bread with sinners. He healed without asking for credentials. And he warned us, over and over, about the danger of confusing moral authority with political power.
When we legislate as though some people “deserve” access to cannabis while others are morally suspect for needing the same relief, we are doing the very thing Holy Week condemns: dressing punishment up as justice and withholding mercy from those who need it most.
We need to end this civic heresy—not just to fix cannabis law, but to uphold the Constitution and the moral integrity of our public institutions. If we believe all Texans are equal under the law, then all Texans should have equal access to relief, dignity, and care.
This week above all weeks, let’s remember: Mercy is not a reward for virtue. It is the obligation of power.
