Sometimes a picture really is worth a thousand words. And sometimes it takes you down a road you never expected to travel.
A follower of Eye on Jacksonville recently sent us a photograph from a David Jolly/Angie Nixon political rally. Sitting in the crowd appeared to be Jacksonville City Councilman Matt Carlucci — a Republican.
My first reaction?
That has to be AI-generated.
Seriously. In today’s world, we can’t trust everything we see, and this photograph was one I wanted to question.
But our follower insisted it was real.
So I did what I believe journalists and watchdogs should do. I went directly to the source.
I reached out to Matt and asked whether he had attended the rally.
He responded:
Hi Billie,
Yes, I was there with my friend Artis Gilmore, whom I’m helping run for City Council. Artis is a Democrat, and we had been making rounds that day. The rally was on his schedule, and I went with him and sat beside him, as I believe a friend should.
Since getting to know Artis, I’ve become very fond of him and have grown to greatly admire him. I’ve found a lot of joy in helping him.
The day before, we had visited a couple of my Republican friends to seek their support, as we’ve done on other occasions as well. Artis and I share the belief that an effective at-large council member must reach out to everybody. That’s how I’ve always approached public service, and I’m glad to help someone who feels the same way.
Your friend,
Matt
I appreciated Matt responding. I’ve known him a long time, and I believe he was sincere in his explanation.
But I didn’t agree with it.
I wrote back:
“Optics are not good. It’s one thing to support a friend and showing up at a rally for a communist is not.”
Yes, I used the word communist. That is my personal characterization of the ideological direction I believe some of today’s Democratic candidates are taking. Others will certainly disagree with that description.
Matt responded again:
Billie to me sometimes friendship means sitting beside someone even when you don’t agree with everything being said. That’s why I was there with Artis.
Matt Carlucci
I didn’t respond.
Not because I didn’t have anything to say.
But because his words took me back many years to an experience that shaped how I think about friendship, faith, and standing firm in what you believe.
A Pastor, a Conversation, and a Decision
Years ago, after going through a painful church split, my husband and I were searching for a new church home.
We found a small church in the San Marco area and attended for about four months. We liked the people and were beginning to feel comfortable.
Then one day I had a conversation with the pastor about abortion.
He told me something I will never forget.
“If one of my congregants came to me and said they were getting an abortion, I would offer to go with them and hold their hand.”
I was stunned.
I didn’t know what to say.
I understood his desire to be compassionate. But for me, compassion and participation were two very different things.
My convictions about the sanctity of life were not something I could simply put aside to make someone feel supported in a decision I believed was wrong.
We eventually left that church.
Not because we hated the pastor. Not because we thought we were better than anyone else.
We left because we realized we were not aligned on something foundational to our faith.
And sometimes that matters more than being comfortable.
Another Young Woman. Another Choice.
Before that conversation with the pastor, a young woman from our former church came to me in tears.
She was pregnant, and the baby’s father was not her husband.
She was frightened, ashamed, and contemplating an abortion. She couldn’t imagine telling her husband.
I listened.
I didn’t yell at her. I didn’t condemn her. I didn’t tell her she was a terrible person.
I listened to her fears and encouraged her to consider telling her husband the truth.
I knew her husband. He was a good man. I knew he would be devastated, but I also believed there was a possibility of forgiveness and healing.
Ultimately, it was her decision.
But I never offered to accompany her to an abortion because that would have crossed a line I personally could not cross.
She eventually told her husband.
And yes, it was rough. Very rough.
But they stayed together.
She had the baby.
And one year later, I was invited to that little girl’s first birthday party.
There was her husband — a man who knew he was not the biological father — absolutely beaming over that precious little girl.
He had fallen in love with her.
From everything I know, they are still together today. And that little girl is alive and well.
I’ve never forgotten that family.
I learned that you can love someone, listen to someone, and walk through a difficult situation with someone without surrendering what you believe.
And that’s exactly where my thoughts went when I read Matt’s message.
Are We Confusing Friendship With Political Compromise?
Let me be clear. I’m not equating attending a political rally with making a decision about abortion. They are vastly different situations.
What connects these experiences in my mind is a question of conscience.
At what point does supporting a friend become supporting something that conflicts with your deepest convictions?
Matt believes friendship sometimes means sitting beside someone even when you disagree with what is being said.
I understand his point.
But I believe there’s another side to that argument.
When you are an elected Republican official, sitting at a Democratic campaign rally is not just two friends enjoying an afternoon together. It’s a public act that carries a message, whether you intended to send one or not.
And that’s where optics matter.
To be fair, Matt did not tell me he endorsed every candidate on that stage or agreed with everything said at the rally. He told me he was accompanying Artis Gilmore, a friend he admires.
I accept that as his explanation.
But the larger question remains.
Can we continue to blur political lines in the name of friendship while the fundamental differences between our political parties grow wider?
The Tea Party Was Born From This Frustration
Almost 20 years ago, many of us became involved in the Tea Party movement because we believed the Republican Party had lost its way.
We were frustrated with spending, government growth, broken promises, and Republicans who campaigned on conservative principles and then seemed to abandon them when governing became uncomfortable.
We watched Republicans cross the aisle, make deals, and call it bipartisanship.
Sometimes compromise is necessary in government. I understand that.
But compromise is supposed to involve negotiation over how to achieve a goal — not abandonment of the principles that brought you into office in the first place.
The Tea Party challenged the Republican establishment, and believe me, we weren’t always welcomed with open arms.
Sometimes it seemed our greatest opposition came from within our own party.
We were labeled troublemakers and extremists because we expected elected Republicans to honor the platform they had asked us to support.
And here we are, nearly two decades later, having many of the same conversations.
Today’s MAGA movement has inherited much of that frustration with the Republican establishment.
Different movement. Different moment in history.
But the same underlying question:
What is the purpose of having a political platform if the people elected under its banner are unwilling to stand firmly behind it?
Jesus Had Something to Say About Being Lukewarm
There’s a passage of Scripture that has stayed with me through the years.
In Revelation 3:15–16, Jesus addresses the church in Laodicea and warns against being lukewarm.
The New King James Version says:
“I know your works, that you are neither cold nor hot. I could wish you were cold or hot.”
And the passage continues with a warning about being lukewarm — neither one nor the other.
Read Revelation 3:15–16 (NKJV)
Now, I know Jesus was addressing a church, not the Republican Party.
But the spiritual lesson about conviction and commitment has me thinking about our political lives as well.
Do we actually believe what we say we believe?
Or are we willing to set those beliefs aside when it becomes uncomfortable to stand by them?
I don’t believe every disagreement requires an argument. I don’t believe every Democrat is a bad person, and I certainly don’t believe every Republican is a saint.
But I do believe there are principles worth defending.
And when our leaders cannot clearly explain which principles they will never compromise, voters have every reason to question what their party affiliation really means.
The Midterms Should Be a Wake-Up Call
The November midterms have left plenty of Americans wondering what comes next.
For conservatives like me, the results raise questions that go well beyond which party controls Congress.
What exactly are Republicans fighting for?
Where are the leaders willing to draw a line?
Are we building a movement with a clear vision for America’s future, or simply trying to keep everyone happy enough to win the next election?
I hear constant calls for unity, moderation, reaching across the aisle, and finding the center.
Those words sound wonderful.
But unity around what?
Moderation of which principles?
And what happens when the person sitting across the aisle believes in policies that directly contradict the promises you made to your own voters?
I don’t expect elected officials to refuse every conversation with someone from the other party. Government requires communication, and public service requires representing people who disagree with you.
But I do expect them to know where they stand.
And I expect them to understand that public gestures have political meaning.
We cannot keep asking voters to believe in a party platform while treating that platform as optional when election season is over.
So, Matt, Thank You for Answering
Matt, I appreciate you taking the time to explain why you were there.
I believe you care about Jacksonville. And I have no reason to doubt that you care about Artis Gilmore.
But your explanation brought me face-to-face with a larger issue I’ve struggled with for decades.
Where is the line between personal loyalty and political conviction?
You believe sitting beside a friend is an act of friendship, even when you disagree with what is being said.
I believe there are moments when standing apart sends a more important message.
We can disagree about that and still treat each other with respect.
But I don’t want this discussion to end with one photograph and one Republican councilman’s explanation.
I want it to challenge all of us to think about what we believe and what we’re willing to do to defend it.
Because I’m at a stage in my life when being liked is not nearly as important as being faithful to my convictions.
Our country faces serious ideological disagreements. Those disagreements won’t be solved by pretending they don’t exist, nor by assuming that every act of civility is a surrender.
But they also won’t be solved by leaders who say one thing to their voters and do another when political pressure arrives.
We don’t need politicians who are afraid to take a stand. We need leaders who can work with others without forgetting whom they represent and what they promised.
And if someone can no longer support the principles of the party under which they were elected, perhaps it’s time for an honest conversation with yourself and change party affiliation.
So here’s my question to Eye on Jacksonville readers:
Is it time to keep searching for the political center, or is it time to head to your corner and stand firm?
And perhaps the more important question:
Can you sit beside someone you disagree with without compromising your principles — or are there times when your principles require you to stand somewhere else?
I’d really like to hear what you think. I know you may disagree and that’s ok. We all have our own path in life and for me right now – this is mine. Standing in my corner to Fight, Fight Fight.
