Right Faith, Wrong Religion

With the demise of Rick Santorum’s campaign for the Republican presidential nomination, the focus has shifted to Mitt Romney. In Romney the Republican faithful are challenged. As is well known, the candidate is Mormon. For the religious rightwing of the party this is almost as bad as being Muslim, something the most ardent radicals accuse Barack Obama of being, despite solid evidence to the contrary.

The Latter Day Saint movement (Mormonism) was founded by an American, Joseph Smith, in the 1820s and has been characterized as a form of Christian primitivism. Bruce McConkie, a general authority of the LDS Church, has said that “Mormonism is indistinguishable from Christianity.” However, it was not a mainstream Protestant movement from the beginning. The magical discovery of new biblical texts, such as the Book of Mormon, and early practice of polygamy set it apart from mainline Christian orthodoxy, whether Catholic or Protestant. In fact, Mormonism usually is seen as a type of cult by Christian traditionalists (such as the fundamentalists who largely populate the Republican right).

Mormons are lumped into a kind of limbo reminiscent of Dante—literally on the edge of Hell. Consequently, the far-right faithful see themselves as damned if they do support Romney—right faith, wrong religion—and damned if they don’t, because that will give the election away to Obama.

If we think of faith as a general belief orientation—one of many possible definitions—and regard religion as a specific expression of faith, then all American presidents have identified with the Christian faith. Even those who haven’t been affiliated with a specific religious denomination have held beliefs that were Christian in orientation. For example, among those without specific affiliation, Thomas Jefferson was raised Anglican but his mature beliefs were closer to Unitarian, though he died shortly before the establishment of institutionalized Unitarianism. Abraham Lincoln likely was a Deist, neither particularly Christian nor non-Christian, though he occasionally attended Presbyterian services and often read the Bible and quoted from it. Barack Obama is currently unaffiliated, following his resignation from Trinity United Church of Christ over the Jeremiah Wright controversy, but he was previously affiliated with the UCC for more than twenty years.

Twelve U.S. presidents have been Episcopalian, the most populous religious category. They’ve ranged from George Washington to George W. Bush (though he converted to Methodism later in life). John F. Kennedy, famously, was the only Catholic. Most have adhered to some form of Protestantism.

Ardent religionists cherry-pick the Bible, selecting and interpreting its passages to suit their personal or political ideologies. Politicians do the same with the Constitution. Those who have read the U.S. Constitution will have noted the passage saying that “no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.” The wisdom of this ideal is self-evident, as is the wisdom of separating church and state so that our democratic governance is not parochialized. But actualization of any ideal is never easy. Too many biases, preconceptions, egos, and ideologies are at stake.

Will we ever have another Catholic president? A Jew? A Muslim? Or perhaps even a Mormon?

Faith, Race, and Religion

The term faith has many meanings, and one purpose of this blog is to explore them. One expression of faith is a belief that the principles of our nation’s founding are still sound. For more than two hundred years we, as a nation, have put our faith in democracy as it was articulated by our eighteenth-century founders—people such as Washington, Franklin, Madison, and Jefferson. Their vision of democracy has had staying power but only, it might be argued, because we have enlarged upon the realization of their vision.

For example, when the founders wrote the first words of the Constitution, “We the People…,” the de facto definition of “the People” was white male property owners. They were the demos of our democracy; they could vote. But they comprised only ten to sixteen percent of the population of our fledgling union.

As our “experiment” in democracy, as Jefferson called it, has evolved, it has been understood that through the office of time “the People” would come to encompass the entire citizenry of the nation. We are still working toward that realization in many areas of civic life—all rights are still not equal—but we have largely succeeded at minimun in enfranchising all citizens. The property-ownership requirement was eliminated by 1850, the 15th Amendment extended the vote to nonwhites in 1870, and the 19th Amendment in 1920 finally enfranchised women. These were major advances.

Other inclusive actions, often overlooked, include the 1924 Indian Citizenship Act, which granted Native Americans citizenship, including the right to vote in federal elections; and the 23rd Amendment, which granted District of Columbia citizens the right to participate in presidential elections.

The evolving nature of enfranchisement also is illustrated by the 1965 Voting Rights Act, which was passed to protect minority rights that had been compromised by some states’ erection of barriers to voting, such as literacy tests.

Remnants of old prejudices, however, linger in today’s politics, often intersecting with religion. A strident—and at the moment, increasingly visible—racist faction is rattling on the radical right. This has meant that some candidates, such as Rick Santorum, have played pander and deny, first aligning themselves with the radicals and then backpedaling to assure the moderates. Santorum, for example, was widely reported talking about “black people” and welfare this winter, something he later tried to deny, despite video evidence.

The most egregious example of racism at work in the current presidential election campaign is “Don’t Renig in 2012.” Despite fancy linguistic footwork by some defenders, the phrase is short for “Don’t Reelect a Nigger in 2012,” and when that slogan is paired with an echo of the Obama logo, the meaning is clear.

Faith in our democratic experiment remains thin among a significant portion of the population, not a majority but a substantial, often strident, sometimes influential minority. This minority fears and opposes anyone who is not them: not white, not their brand of “Christian,” and so forth. In this respect, the remarks of Dennis Terry, a pastor whose introduction of Rick Santorum recently went viral on the Internet, are illustrative:

“There is only one God, and his name is Jesus,” Terry said. “I'm tired of people telling me that I can't say those words. I’m tired of people telling us as Christians that we can’t voice our beliefs or that we can no longer pray in public. Listen to me: if you don’t love America, if you don’t like the way we do things I got one thing to say—GET OUT. We don’t worship Buddha. We don't worship Mohammad. We don't worship Allah. We worship God. We worship God’s son Jesus Christ.”

In a nation as diverse as ours, this is a narrowly defined demos indeed.

Faith and Religion

Let me posit a definitional distinction between faith and religion. The distinction is personal, rather than universal. But it will guide this discourse. In this context, by faith I mean a pervasive, transcendent belief in the common good—in essence, in the divinity of humanness. In contrast, religion is bound by dogma. Religions—multiple—are discrete belief systems, each separate and distinct from all others in certain ways, some slight, some substantial.

The label God crosses both faith and religions, and so it is important to make a distinction between God as faith shorthand for universal divine humanness and God as appropriated by religion, such as the “Christian God” (as if there were only one) or the “Muslim God” (remembering that Allah is merely Arabic for God.)

This distinction is maintained, despite much confusion and argument over the point, in the national use of the phrase “in God we trust,” which can be seen on most currency and coins. This is not the God of a particular religion (despite the desires of those who would make it so). This is a faith expression, not a religious one. Therefore, such use does not violate the Establishment Clause, that phrase in the First Amendment that says, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.”

One has only to look at the most basic of our founding documents, the Declaration of Independence, to see an initial iteration of this principle in its opening words:

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

“The Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God” is a faith expression, not to be confounded with a religious declaration. Such expression, in fact, would have had to cross several religious sensibilities, given the numerous religions represented among the signers of the Declaration.

Faith, governance, and democracy intersect in this foundation, as they have done ever since. However, the intrusion of religion into this intersection also has been, since the founding days of our union, a danger. In the current political climate this danger has been heightened. Narrow religious dogma, as espoused by some political candidates, is incompatible with democracy because it resonates with only some of the people, in many cases a very narrow band of the population spectrum.

Democracy relies on compromise, on the participation of all the people in the governance of the nation. When religious dogma descends to rigidity, it is incompatible with democracy because some people are excluded from participation by the beliefs and practices of their religion. Many religions are exclusive; faith and democracy are inclusive. The Founders understood this distinction, and our notions about separating church and state stem from this understanding. It should be further understood that some religions are, at heart, faith-less. One may be faith-full with or without benefit of religion. And it is faith that supports the enterprise of our democratic governance.