“The words of the reckless pierce like swords,
but the tongue of the wise brings healing.”
— Proverbs 12:18

I was raised to believe that the presidency matters. Not necessarily the man occupying it at any given moment, but the office itself. It is bigger than personality, bigger than party, and often bigger even than policy. The presidency is one of the few remaining civic institutions that still carries moral weight—at least, it should. When the president speaks, the country listens. When the president stumbles, the consequences echo far beyond a 24-hour news cycle.

That conviction shapes how I view politics, and it shaped my reaction this week to the brutal deaths of filmmaker Rob Reiner and his wife. A double homicide is the kind of tragedy that should still our arguments, even briefly. Death has a way of reminding us that before we are voters or ideologues, we are human beings.

And yet, almost immediately, words were spoken that did not heal.

President Donald Trump’s public response to the Reiner tragedy did not center on condolences or restraint. Instead, it reframed the deaths through a political lens—speculating about psychological torment and ideological obsession, and implying, without evidence, that political animus somehow mattered in the moment of loss. Whatever one thinks of Rob Reiner’s politics—and he was outspoken and combative—this was not a moment for diagnosis or deflection. It was a moment for dignity.

Proverbs would call such speech reckless.

I want to be clear about my posture. I did not put Donald Trump in office. As a naturalized citizen, I cannot run for president myself, which perhaps gives me an added reverence for the institution. I love this country. I respect the presidency deeply. I appreciate secure borders. I admit—somewhat selfishly—that I like seeing a strong stock market. I even admire, at times, the president’s willingness to speak plainly rather than hide behind political correctness.

Respecting the office, however, does not require blind loyalty to the occupant. In fact, true respect for the presidency demands moral accountability.

Scripture does not evaluate leaders only by what they accomplish. It weighs how they speak.

The issue here is not policy. It is posture.

As a writer, author, and frequent radio guest, I’m very mindful of the difference between speaking one’s mind and wielding one’s tongue like a weapon. Proverbs warns that reckless words pierce. They cut deeper than intended. They leave wounds long after the speaker has moved on. When such words come from the presidency, they do more than wound individuals—they shape the moral atmosphere of the nation.

This is the tension many thoughtful citizens feel. We want candor without cruelty. Honesty without hatred. Conviction without contempt. These are not incompatible virtues, but they require wisdom—and wisdom is precisely what Proverbs elevates above raw power.

“The tongue of the wise brings healing.”

Healing does not mean agreement. It does not mean pretending differences don’t matter. It does not even mean withholding criticism. It means recognizing when a moment calls for restraint rather than rhetoric. It means knowing that grief is not a platform and death is not a talking point.

Rob Reiner was a fierce critic of Donald Trump. He was relentless, provocative, and unapologetic. But even fierce opponents deserve dignity in death. If “hate the sin, love the sinner” is more than a slogan, it must apply most clearly when someone can no longer answer back.

We live in a culture that rewards outrage and mistakes humility for weakness. Social media trains us to respond instantly, not wisely. But presidents are not influencers. They are stewards—not only of power, but of language. The words spoken from that office carry disproportionate weight. They can calm a nation or inflame it. They can heal or they can pierce.

And swords, Scripture reminds us, always cut deeper than expected.

Donald Trump has often cast himself as a defender of those who feel unheard. That role carries moral gravity. It also carries responsibility. One cannot champion dignity for some while dismissing it for others, especially in moments of irreversible loss.

This is not about hating Donald Trump. It is not about loving him either. It is about loving the presidency enough to say: this mattered. Words mattered. The moment mattered. The office mattered.

A nation can survive bad policies. It can recover from flawed leadership. What it cannot tolerate is the erosion of empathy from the highest office in the land.

Proverbs 12:18 leaves us with a choice. We can pierce, or we can heal. We can speak quickly, or we can speak wisely. We can cheapen the presidency—or we can honor it by demanding better from those who hold it.

I still believe the office means something.

That is precisely why this moment did too.

Dr. John Huang is a retired orthodontist, military veteran, and award-winning author. Currently serving as a columnist for Nolan Group Media, he invites readers to follow him on social media @KYHuangs. Explore his latest, “Whining For Posterity,” and all his books at https://www.Amazon.com/stores/Dr.-John-Huang/author/B092RKJBRD