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Obama Says You Gotta Have Faith
Corporate Accountability and WorkPlace:
Why McCain and the GOP Are So Afraid of Discussing the Economy
Frances Moore Lappe
Democracy and Elections:
Seven Ways Your Vote Might Not Count This November
Steven Rosenfeld
DrugReporter:
New Drug Survey Demolishes Drug Czar's Claims
Bruce Mirken
Election 2008:
Palin Pick Is GOP Hypocrisy at its Best
Laura Flanders
Environment:
Boatloads of Trouble: How We Are Importing Our Way to Destruction
Stan Cox
ForeignPolicy:
The Bush Administration Checkmated in Georgia
Michael T. Klare
Health and Wellness:
Hospitals' Lessons From Hurricane Gustav
Sheri Fink
Hurricane Katrina:
From the Bayou to Baghdad: Mission Not Accomplished
Amy Goodman
Immigration:
Leader of Anti-Immigration Movement Calls Issue a "Skirmish in a Wider War"
Eric Ward
Media and Technology:
Only in America Could a Two-Faced Creature Like McCain Attain Such Media Status
Rory O'Connor
Movie Mix:
Does "Working Girls" Still Work?
Ariel Dougherty
Reproductive Justice and Gender:
An Open Letter to Gov. Sarah Palin on Women's Rights
Lynn Paltrow
Rights and Liberties:
Amy Goodman: Why We Were Falsely Arrested
Amy Goodman
Sex and Relationships:
What Republicans Can Learn from "Gossip Girl"
Sarah Seltzer
War on Iraq:
The VA Continues to Abandon Returning Vets
Joshua Kors
Water:
Is California on the Brink of Environmental Collapse?
Rachel Olivieri
Good morning. I appreciate the opportunity to speak here at the Call to Renewal's "Building a Covenant for a New America" conference, and I'd like to congratulate you all on the thoughtful presentations you've given so far about poverty and justice in America. I think all of us would affirm that caring for the poor finds root in all of our religious traditions. Certainly that's true for my own.
But today I'd like to talk about the connection between religion and politics, and perhaps offer some thoughts about how we can sort through some of the often bitter arguments over this issue over the last several years.
I do so because, as you all know, we can affirm the importance of poverty in the Bible and discuss the religious call to environmental stewardship all we want, but it won't have an impact if we don't tackle head-on the mutual suspicion that sometimes exists between religious America and secular America.
For me, this need was illustrated during my 2004 race for the U.S. Senate. My opponent, Alan Keyes, was well-versed in the Jerry Falwell-Pat Robertson style of rhetoric that often labels progressives as both immoral and godless.
Indeed, towards the end of the campaign, Mr. Keyes said, "Jesus Christ would not vote for Barack Obama. Christ would not vote for Barack Obama because Barack Obama has behaved in a way that is inconceivable for Christ to have behaved."
Now, I was urged by some of my liberal supporters not to take this statement seriously. To them, Mr. Keyes was an extremist, his arguments not worth entertaining.
What they didn't understand, however, was that I had to take him seriously. For he claimed to speak for my religion; he claimed knowledge of certain truths.
Mr. Obama says he's a Christian, he would say, and yet he supports a lifestyle that the Bible calls an abomination.
Mr. Obama says he's a Christian, but supports the destruction of innocent and sacred life.
What would my supporters have me say? That a literalist reading of the Bible was folly? That Mr. Keyes, a Roman Catholic, should ignore the teachings of the Pope?
Unwilling to go there, I answered with the typically liberal response in some debates -- namely, that we live in a pluralistic society, that I can't impose my religious views on another, that I was running to be the U.S. senator of Illinois and not the minister of Illinois.
But Mr. Keyes' implicit accusation that I was not a true Christian nagged at me, and I was also aware that my answer didn't adequately address the role my faith has in guiding my own values and beliefs.
My dilemma was by no means unique. In a way, it reflected the broader debate we've been having in this country for the last 30 years over the role of religion in politics.
For some time now, there has been plenty of talk among pundits and pollsters that the political divide in this country has fallen sharply along religious lines. Indeed, the single biggest "gap" in party affiliation among white Americans today is not between men and women, or those who reside in so-called Red States and those who reside in Blue, but between those who attend church regularly and those who don't.
Conservative leaders, from Falwell and Robertson to Karl Rove and Ralph Reed, have been all too happy to exploit this gap, consistently reminding evangelical Christians that Democrats disrespect their values and dislike their church, while suggesting to the rest of the country that religious Americans care only about issues like abortion and gay marriage, school prayer and intelligent design.
Democrats, for the most part, have taken the bait. At best, we may try to avoid the conversation about religious values altogether, fearful of offending anyone and claiming that -- regardless of our personal beliefs -- constitutional principles tie our hands. At worst, some liberals dismiss religion in the public square as inherently irrational 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 the 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 the lives of the American people, and join a serious debate about how to reconcile faith with our modern, pluralistic democracy.
We first need to understand that Americans are a religious people. Ninety percent of us believe in God, 70 percent affiliate themselves with an organized religion, 38 percent call themselves committed Christians, and substantially more people believe in angels than do those who believe in evolution.
This religious tendency is not simply the result of successful marketing by skilled preachers or the draw of popular megachurches. In fact, it speaks to a hunger that's deeper than that -- a hunger that goes beyond any particular issue or cause.
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