In matters of public concern — just like in our private lives — we should be ready to extend grace and forgiveness to those who offend us. We should not forgive Colorado state Rep. Steven Woodrow. Not until he masters the prerequisite skill of taking responsibility.

In the wake of the attempted assassination of Donald J. Trump, Woodrow, a Denver Democrat, posted to social media an offensive, outrageous tweet. That is not unusual for Woodrow, the current chair of the House Committee on Civic, Military and Veterans Affairs, who regularly and gleefully posts aggressively anti-Republican messages, such as likening Republicans to Nazis. But the timing of this toxic offering highlighted an insensitivity — a heartlessness — in Woodrow that surpassed his past poisoned posts.

Having avoided by millimeters the murder of a past president and presidential front-runner that would have thrown America into predictable chaos, Woodrow tweeted: “The last thing we needed was sympathy for the devil, but here we are.”

The backlash was so broad, intense, and quick to develop, Woodrow took the courageous action of deleting his entire Twitter account, presumably to stem the tide of negative responses he was receiving. But also likely to frustrate the ability of others to sift through his past maligning missives — and there were many.

None of that is remarkable or even column-worthy. What is noteworthy is how pathetic his ultimate “apology” was and how a lot of the mainstream media let him off the hook, as they have so many politicians who say or do outrageous things.

An apology should send the unequivocal and undiluted message that the apologizer takes personal responsibility for their conduct, seeks forgiveness for it, and pledges not to engage in similar behavior in the future. However, too many modern media have stretched the definition of “apology” to the point that we do not recognize it, and it serves no purpose.

For example, the result of the cacophony of vitriol heaped upon Woodrow was the chair of the Colorado Democratic Party posting his own milquetoast response. Describing Woodrow’s tweet only as “regrettable,” he declined to condemn it in its own right, instead lumping it in with a more lengthy condemnation of a comment by U.S. Rep. Lauren Boebert. The message was clear: We may have done something bad, but so did they. That politically motivated moral equivalency cheapens whatever modicum of accountability was attempted with that tweet. Similarly, the Democrat speaker of the House merely described it as “in poor taste.” Strong.

When Woodrow finally came forward, some media outlets quickly and generously described his manicured words as an apology. It was not.

Woodrow did not entertain live interviews peppered with questions by expert journalists. Instead, Woodrow provided written responses to the media, claiming that his post was “inarticulate,” and apologized “that my words caused additional pain.” None of it was inartful. Woodrow, a claimed attorney, is trained to know that words matter. He was not “inartful,” but intentional. We would not tolerate such weak language from our kids (“I apologize that my baseball damaged your window”), or defendants (“I am sorry that my bullets caused physical pain”).

Yet, this is what we tolerate now from those who run our government.

It is not a matter of semantics, but of the language of responsibility for the decision and the conduct, not just the outcome.

Woodrow is not alone. Last year, after publicly celebrating the events of Oct. 7, liking pro-Hamas, anti-Israeli tweets, and appearing in the now-viral video of him dismissing the evil attacks on defenseless Israelis, former and unelected Democrat state Rep. Tim Hernandez provided a bland “explan-unciation” condemning all bad conduct in general, without specifically acknowledging his own. Only after his smug, and dismissive response failed to quell opposition did Hernandez generate a hostage-like video mouthing the words of responsibility someone likely wrote for him.

What Coloradans crave — and what they deserve — is what we expect from each other in every other aspect of our lives. From faith to family to the criminal justice system, there is no forgiveness or mitigation of outcome without clear expressions of personal responsibility and a pledge never again to re-offend.

There are examples of public servants who meet that standard and provide the example to which we can point our kids.

James Simmonds, the Prospect Park (Pennsylvania) fire chief, like Woodrow here, went on Facebook after the attempted assassination of Trump, posting, “A little to the right next time.”

The denunciation of his words was swift and strong. Unlike Woodrow, Simmonds responded as the public deserves and honor demands.

“I sincerely apologize for my hasty social media post that made light of a serious incident. I take full responsibility for the offensive post and acknowledge that this behavior is not acceptable.” Simmonds described feeling “especially ashamed” for his “stupid mistake.” See the difference? Simmonds’ words are miles apart from Woodrow’s. And so is his conduct.

Woodrow and his Democrat allies have circled the wagons and declared the matter over after his “apology.” Simmonds immediately resigned.

Simmonds can and should be forgiven — that is the grace we owe each other. Woodrow should be decried until he finds the courage and character to do the right thing. Coloradans deserve no less.

George Brauchler is the former district attorney for the 18th Judicial District and is a candidate for district attorney in the newly created 23rd Judicial District. He has served as an Owens Early Criminal Justice Fellow at the Common Sense Institute. Follow him on Twitter(X): @GeorgeBrauchler.