The Call to Renewal's Building a Covenant is filled with
outstanding policies and prescriptions for much of what ails
this country.
My response speaks to the connection between religion and
politics and perhaps offers some thoughts about how we
can sort through some of the often bitter arguments.
To illustrate the fact of mutual suspicion that sometimes
exists between religious America and secular America---I'll
use the 2004 U.S. Senate General Election I ran against a
gentleman named Alan Keyes.
Mr. Keyes is well-versed in the Jerry Falwell-Pat Robert-
son style of rhetoric that often labels progressives as both
immoral and godless.
Mr. Keyes announced towards the end of the campaign
that, "Jesus Christ would not vote for Barack Obama, that
Christ would not vote for Barack Obama because Barack
Obama has behaved in a way that it is inconceivable for
Christ to have behaved".
He claimed to speak for my religion, and my God. He
claimed knowledge of certain truths and that I say I'm a
Christian and yet that...
* I support a lifestyle that the Bible calls an abomination.
* I supports the destruction of innocent and sacred life.
And so what would my supporters have me say?
How should I respond? Should I say that a literalist reading
of the Bible was folly? Should I say that Mr. Keyes, who is
a Roman Catholic, should ignore the teachings of the Pope?
Unwilling to go there---I answered with what has come to
be the typically liberal response in such debates and
name-ly, I said that we live in a pluralistic society, that I
can't im-pose my own religious views on another, that I was
running to be the U.S. Senator of Illinois and not the
Minister of Illinois.
Mr. Keyes's implicit accusation that I was not a true
Chris-tian nagged at me, and I was also aware that my
answer did not adequately address the role my faith has in
guiding my own values and my own beliefs.
Now, my dilemma was by no means unique. In a way, it
reflected the broader debate we've been having in this
coun-try for the last thirty years over the role of religion in
poli-tics.
The single biggest "gap" in party affiliations is
between those who attend church regularly and
those who don't.
Conservative leaders have been all too happy to exploit this
gap, consistently reminding evangelical Christians that
Dem-ocrats disrespect their values and dislike their Church,
while suggesting to the rest of the country that religious
Ameri-cans care only about issues like abortion and gay
marriage; school prayer and intelligent design.
Democrats, for the most part, have taken the bait, claiming
that - regardless of our personal beliefs - constitutional
principles tie our hands. At worst, there are some liberals
who dismiss religion in the public square as inherently
ir-rational or intolerant, insisting on a caricature of religious
Americans that paints them as fanatical, or thinking that the
very word "Christian" describes one's political opponents,
not people of faith.
Such strategies of avoidance may work for progressives
when our opponent is Alan Keyes. But over the long haul,
I think we make a mistake when we fail to acknowledge the
power of faith in people's lives -- in the lives of the
Ameri-can people -- and I think it's time that we join a
serious de-bate about how to reconcile faith with our
modern, plural-istic democracy.
Religious tendency is not simply the result of successful
marketing by skilled preachers or the draw of popular
mega-churches. In fact, it speaks to a hunger that goes
beyond any particular issue or cause.
They want a sense of purpose, a narrative arc to their lives.
They're looking to relieve a chronic loneliness, a feeling
sup-ported by a recent study that shows Americans have
fewer close friends and confidants than ever before. And so
they need an assurance that somebody out there cares about
them, is listening to them - that they are not just destined
to travel down that long highway towards nothingness.
And I speak with some experience on this matter. I was not
raised in a particularly religious household, as undoubtedly
many in the audience were. My father, who returned to
Kenya when I was just two, was born Muslim but as an
adult became an atheist. My mother, whose parents were
non-practicing Baptists and Methodists, was probably one
of the most spiritual and kindest people I've ever known,
but grew up with a healthy skepticism of organized religion
herself. As a consequence, so did I.
It wasn't until after college, when I went to Chicago to work
as a community organizer for a group of Christian churches,
that I confronted my own spiritual dilemma.
I was working with churches, and the Christians who I
worked with recognized themselves in me. They saw that I
knew their Book and that I shared their values and sang
their songs. But they sensed that a part of me that remained
removed, detached, that I was an observer in their midst.
And in time, I came to realize that something was missing as
well -- that without a vessel for my beliefs, without a
com-mitment to a particular community of faith, at some
level I would always remain apart, and alone.
And if it weren't for the particular attributes of the
histori-cally black church, I may have accepted this fate.
But as the months passed in Chicago, I found myself drawn
- not just to work with the church, but to be in the church.
For one thing, I believed and still believe in the power of the
African-American religious tradition to spur social change, a
power made real by some of the leaders here today. Because
of its past, the black church understands in an intimate way
the Biblical call to feed the hungry and cloth the naked and
challenge powers and principalities. And in its historical
struggles for freedom and the rights of man, I was able to
see faith as more than just a comfort to the weary or a hedge
against death, but rather as an active, palpable agent in the
world. As a source of hope.
And perhaps it was out of this intimate knowledge of
hard-ship -- the grounding of faith in struggle -- that the
church offered me a second insight, one that I think is
important to emphasize today.
Faith doesn't mean that you don't have doubts.
You need to come to church in the first place precisely
be-cause you are first of this world, not apart from it. You
need to embrace Christ precisely because you have sins to
wash away - because you are human and need an ally in this
difficult journey.
Kneeling beneath that cross on the South Side, I felt that I
heard God's spirit beckoning me. I submitted myself to His
will, and dedicated myself to discovering His truth.
It is not something people set apart from the rest of their
beliefs and values.
In fact, it is often what drives the beliefs and values of peo-
ple.
And that is why that, if we truly hope to speak to people
where they're at - to communicate our hopes and values in a
way that's relevant to their own - then as progressives, we
cannot abandon the field of religious discourse.
...Because when we ignore the debate about what it means
to be a good Christian or Muslim or Jew; when we discuss
religion only in the negative sense of where or how it should
not be practiced, rather than in the positive sense of what it
tells us about our obligations towards one another; when we
shy away from religious venues and religious broadcasts be-
cause we assume that we will be unwelcome---others will
fill the vacuum, those with the most insular views of faith,
or those who cynically use religion to justify partisan ends.
In other words, if we don't reach out to evangelical Chris-
tians and other religious Americans and tell them what we
stand for, then the Jerry Falwells and Pat Robertsons and
Alan Keyeses will continue to hold sway.
More fundamentally, the discomfort of some progressives
with any hint of religion has often prevented us from effec-
tively addressing issues in moral terms.
Some of the probem here is rhetorical.
If we scrub language of all religious content---we forfeit the
imagery and terminology through which millions of Ameri-
cans understand both their personal morality and social
justice.
Imagine Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address without refer-
ence to "the judgments of the Lord." Or King's I Have a
Dream speech without references to "all of God's children."
Their summoning of a higher truth helped inspire what had
seemed impossible, and move the nation to embrace a com-
on destiny.
Our failure as progressives to tap into the moral underpin-
nings of the nation is not just rhetorical, though. Our fear of
getting "preachy" may also lead us to discount the role that
values and culture play in some of our most urgent social
problems.
After all, the problems of poverty and racism, the uninsured
and the unemployed, are not simply technical problems in
search of the perfect ten point plan. They are rooted in both
societal indifference and individual callousness - in the
imperfections of man.
Solving these problems will require changes in government
policy, but it will also require changes in hearts and a change
in minds.
I believe in keeping guns out of our inner cities, and that
our leaders must say so in the face of the gun manufacturers'
lobby.
But I also believe that when a gang- banger shoots indiscri-
minately into a crowd because he feels somebody disres-
pected him, we've got a moral problem. There's a hole in
that young man's heart - a hole that the government alone
cannot fix.
I believe in vigorous enforcement of our non-discrimination
laws.
But I also believe that a transformation of conscience and a
genuine commitment to diversity on the part of the nation's
CEOs, who could bring about quicker results than a battal-
ion of lawyers.
My Bible tells me that if we train a child in the way he
should go---when he is old he will not turn from it.
So I think faith and guidance can help fortify a young wo-
man's sense of self, a young man's sense of responsibility,
and a sense of reverence for themselves and bodies.
I am not suggesting that every progressive suddenly latch
on to religious terminology - that can be dangerous. Nothing
is more transparent than inauthentic expressions of faith.
As Jim has mentioned, some politicians come and clap off
religious rhythm---to the choir. We don't need that.
I do not believe that religious people have a monopoly on
morality, I would rather have someone who is grounded in
morality and ethics, and who is also secular, affirm their
morality and ethics and values without pretending that
they're something they're not.
They don't need to do that. None of us need to do that.
I am suggesting is this - secularists are wrong when they ask
believers to leave their religion at the door before entering
into the public square.
Many have been not only motivated by faith, but repeated-
ly used religious language to argue for their cause.
So to say that men and women should not inject
their "personal morality" into public policy de-
bates is a practical absurdity. Our law is by defi-
nition a codification of morality, much of it
grounded in the Judeo-Christian tradition.
Moreover, if we progressives shed some of these biases, we
might recognize some overlapping values that both religious
and secular people share when it comes to the moral and
material direction of our country.
We might recognize that the call to sacrifice on behalf of the
next generation, the need to think in terms of "thou" and not
just "I," resonates in religious congregations all across the
country.
And we might realize that we have the ability to reach out
to the evangelical community and engage millions of religi-
ous Americans in the larger project of American renewal.
Pastors, friends of mine like Rick Warren and T.D. Jakes are
wielding their enormous influences to confront AIDS, Third
World debt relief, and the genocide in Darfur. Religious
thinkers and activists like our good friend Jim Wallis and
Tony Campolo are lifting up the Biblical injunction to help
the poor as a means of mobilizing Christians against budget
cuts to social programs and growing inequality.
And by the way, we need Christians on Capitol Hill, Jews
on Capitol Hill and Muslims on Capitol Hill talking about
the estate tax.
When you've got an estate tax debate that proposes a tril-
lion dollars being taken out of social programs---to go to a
handful of folks who don't need and weren't even asking for
it---you know that we need an injection of morality in our
political debate.
So the question is, how do we build on these still-tentative
partnerships between religious and secular people of good
will?
what conservative leaders need to do -- some truths they
need to acknowledge.
For one, they need to understand the critical role that the
separation of church and state has played in preserving not
only our democracy, but the robustness of our religious
practice.
Folks tend to forget that during our founding, it wasn't the
atheists or the civil libertarians who were the most effective
champions of the First Amendment.
It was the persecuted minorities---it was Baptists like John
Leland who didn't want the established churches to impose
their views on folks, who were getting happy out in the
fields and teaching the scripture to slaves.
Moreover, given the increasing diversity of America's pop-
ulation, the dangers of sectarianism have never been greater.
Whatever we once were, we are no longer just a Christian
nation; we are also a Jewish nation, a Muslim nation, a Bud-
dhist nation, a Hindu nation, and a nation of nonbelievers.
And even if we did have only Christians in our midst, if
we expelled every non-Christian from the United States of
America---whose Christianity would we teach in the
schools?
Democracy demands that the religiously motivated translate
their concerns into universal, rather than religion-specific,
values.
It requires that their proposals be subject to argument, and
amenable to reason.
I may be opposed to abortion for religious reasons, but if I
seek to pass a law banning the practice---I cannot simply
point to the teachings of my church or evoke God's will.
I have to explain why abortion violates some principle that
is accessible to people of all faiths, including those with no
faith at all.
A sense of proportion should also guide those who police
the boundaries between church and state.
Not every mention of God in public is a breach to the wall
of separation - context matters.
It is doubtful that children reciting the Pledge of Allegiance
feel oppressed or brainwashed as a consequence of mutter-
ing the phrase "under God." I didn't.
Having voluntary student prayer groups use school proper-
ty to meet should not be a threat, any more than its use by
the High School Republicans should threaten Democrats.
And one can envision certain faith-based programs, targeting
ex-offenders or substance abusers and offer a uniquely
powerful way of solving problems.
I am hopeful that we can bridge the gaps that exist and over-
come the prejudices each of us bring to this debate; and I
have faith that millions of believing Americans want that to
happen.
No matter how religious they may or may not be, people
are tired of seeing faith used as a tool of attack.
They don't want faith used to belittle or to divide. They're
tired of hearing folks deliver a long discourse, than sermon,
because in the end, that's not how they think about faith in
their own lives.
Consider the willingness to listen and learn from those who
are willing to speak in fair-minded words. Those who know
of the central and awesome place that God holds in the lives
of so many, and who refuse to treat faith as simply another
political issue with which to score points.
Barack Obama-Senator of Illinois