Debating Religion & the Presidency
At last week’s Republican Presidential Debate hosted by CNN in Jacksonville, Florida, a wonderful question was asked of the candidates: if elected, how would their religious beliefs affect their decisions as president.
I don’t mean to Monday morning quarterback — actually, yes I do, because this question is the sort of thing I think about a lot (from the discipleship angle, not the presidential one). So, with the benefit of plenty of time to think, I thought I’d take a stab at my own response.
First, though, I’ll note that of the candidates’ answers, Newt Gingrich’s was closest to my perspective. His brief assertion that religion isn’t something that just happens on Sundays and, in that sense, is inextricable from daily life, was by far the most compelling point.
Even now, I still have no idea how Ron Paul’s argument makes any sense: that religion affects his character, and the way he lives, but wouldn’t affect his presidency because his oath of office would take precedence. Paul seemed to indicate he could set aside his faith at times, which I find confusing and problematic.
Santorum and Romney made safe claims about Judeo-Christian values and the Declaration of Independence, sticking to general faith fluff and an embellished religious history of America.
That’s all fine. No candidate said anything particularly compelling, but no candidate had an “oops moment” either.
I’ll never run for president. I don’t analyze polling data or focus groups. My answer, I have no doubt, would not be popular with much of America. But, here it is:
Every day, before I check my email and my to-do lists, I pray. Prayer centers me, reminding me that each day is a gift from God. Prayer reminds me I didn’t make this world. I didn’t found our great nation. I don’t live a perfect life. Every day, after that morning prayer, I’m called to respond to God’s grace and love.
Faith, religion, and service are inextricable aspects of my life. They are at my core. I try to live my life not primarily for personal gain, but to serve God and others. So it turns out that faith is actually a large part of why I’m running. After all: why would I put my family, myself, my friends through the gauntlet of a campaign if it were not for a larger purpose beyond self? We don’t need a president — or anyone in public office — thinking the world revolves around any one person. Public service, for many of us, is an act of discipleship.
Now, before anyone gets any ideas, I would not use public office to compel or advocate my particular faith tradition. My values come from my faith tradition, but they’re also certainly influenced by my family, education, and community. In this most religiously diverse country on God’s earth, we must seek to advocate for policy in ways that speaks to those of all faiths, and those of no faith. For me, my love of neighbor comes from Jesus’ teachings, rooted in the Bible, and is sustained by a community of faith. For others, their love and service is influenced by the teachings of Muhammad, or in the way of Buddha. For still others (some dear friends of mine) who don’t believe in God, life’s goals come from influences beyond faith. But atheists and agnostics can and do still seek to contribute to society, to support their community, and to live justly.
So, I hope, I pray, that faith would affect every aspect of my time in office, that it would demand from me humility, honesty, courage, love, care for the earth, respect, that faith would drive me to seek liberty and justice for all. Faith then, wouldn’t hinder me in office — it’s not something I can just set aside — rather, faith would help me as I humbly sought to serve both God and country.
What do you think? What would you answer? What struck you about the candidates’ responses?
Sex on campus, the campaign trail, & in the classroom
Megan and I recently gave away four boxes of books and sold two others to secondhand book dealers. Taking old beloved books off our shelves was a painstaking process. Most of the books we ended up giving away were from college and seminary (if you were wondering: science books resell for a whole lot more than religion books). One book I did not give away — maybe will never give away — is Our Sexuality, assigned for a college course on human sexuality.
Human Sexuality, taught by a UCC pastor turned sociologist, was one of the most personally affecting courses I took at St. Olaf College. It’s been seven years now since I soaked up lectures on everything from sexual physiology to the economics of the pornography industry, but an oft-spoken line of the professor remains with me: “Understanding your sexuality is the foremost component to understanding yourself.”
Many words come to mind to describe that wonderful course and the atmosphere created by the professor’s thoughtful pedagogy — non-judgmental, liberating, embodied, reflective, hilarious, sacred — but it’s that last one that sticks with me.
Looking back, I’m not sure how he did it. Somehow, though, without his even talking about faith much at all, I was convinced that the professor’s deep respect for his students as sexual beings came from his Christian convictions. Despite that fact that he gave several lectures bemoaning the sexist history of the church, I also got the distinct impression that when our professor enjoyed sexual intimacy with his wife (which he was open to discussing), he understood sex as a holy gift from God and within God’s love.
Pivot now to two sets of recent articles. First, Saturday’s NY Times has eight commentators discussing “The Gingrich Question: Cheating vs. Open Marriage.” As I flipped through the short essays weighing-in on open marriage, divorce, sexual intimacy, etc. I was struck that the Times had failed to ask any clergy for their perspective. Which got me thinking: was the snub an oversight by the Times, or did it simply reflect the fact that clergy are not skilled (equipped?, open?) to speak publicly about sex.
Mind you it’d be a cinch to find a preacher who’d use the Times’ bully pulpit to argue in loud monotone for marriage between one man and one woman. Many of the Times’ writers, however, demonstrate much more careful words and thoughtful consideration than that, and I wondered what pastors might say publicly beyond, “marriage is good.” (I’m not saying it isn’t, by the way, just that I long for a deeper, richer, more theological conversation than most pastors react with, or at least those covered by the mainstream media.)
Thankfully, then, I later caught up on my Christian Century reading to find just that: several campus pastors reflecting on the complicated culture of dating, sex, drinking, and hook-ups at their colleges (including, my alma mater).
I recommend the series of articles, “Sex on Campus: College chaplains on the hookup culture” at The Christian Century’s website (may require subscription). It’s all just tidbits from a larger conversation we need to have, but I’m heartened that it’s out there. I long for more holy places like my college human sexuality course to discuss sexuality, sexual ethics, culture, and faith.
I’ll close with the hopeful words of Tara Woodard-Lehman, Executive Director of the Westminster Foundation at Princeton University. Words of which, my former human sexuality professor, would be proud:
I attempt to help students cultivate a prophetic, holy imagination—one that helps them imagine a self and life that is integrated. I invite them to affirm what Rowan Williams calls “the body’s grace,” a vision of sex as an identification of one’s own body with another’s body as mutually given sources of joy and desire. I invite them to see their bodies through the sacred lens of their Creator, who names them as good, very good. Even if they can’t quite believe that it’s true, I hope that they want it to be true. And I trust that over time, by God’s grace, they will live more fully and faithfully into that new reality.
image by Matthew Bowden
Responding to Weiner’s “Americans: Undecided About God?
A pastor friend wrote me this weekend wondering my take on Eric Weiner’s recent NY Times Sunday Review Opinion piece.
My friend wrote, “[Weiner] seeks a new, entrepreneurial religion, one that allows doubt and skepticism (yes please) but one, it seems that we control, create and manipulate (no thanks).”
Read Wiener’s piece for yourself: “Americans: Undecided About God?”
It hit home for me in that:
- I agree that Americans’ are not taught — and, so, rarely learn — how to speak about religion in the public square in ways that don’t jump to judge and stigmatize (the recent ridiculousness over ads and the “All-American Muslim” TV series is a great example)
- I know it’s a pipe dream, but I’d love to consider ways to teach basic religious education in public schools. I believe that would help understand our neighbors, not to mention dozens of Shakespeare’s Biblical references and better nuance Tim Tebow conversations.
- Dovetailing with my experiences with The Project F-M, a huge interest of the young adults I know is speaking about God in ways that are open to questions.
- Weiner’s search for a faith that is both “true” and “good” reminds me of a Theology Pub session on salvation in which those around the table described salvation as “deliberative living, achievable, a balanced life, love.”
- Brian McLaren has written that, in today’s culture, we need to show not that the Christian faith is true but that is it beautiful. When folks see the beauty, the truth follows.
On the other hand, Weiner’s conclusion did leave me scratching my head. I didn’t quite understand the operating system metaphor, and Steve Jobs (God love him and my Apple products) was fraught with many troublesome traits I wouldn’t want in faith leaders. But, I also heard in Weiner’s final paragraph, a call to action for mainline church leaders. So, I’ve slightly re-worded his paragraph for the mainline context.
We need more transformative leader of religion. Someone (or ones) who can claim not a new religion but, rather, a deeper and richer way of being religious. Like the best user-friendly technology, this new way would be more straightforward and unencumbered, while also confessing that serving God often feels unintuitive. Most important, it would be highly interactive and relational. I imagine a religious space that celebrates doubt, encourages experimentation and allows one to utter the word God without embarrassment. A place to serve God and neighbor that welcomes the Nones among us. And all of us.
So that’s my response to my pastor friend. Others?
He says on SheSays: Forum’s new Women Section must go
My local newspaper, the Forum of Fargo-Moorhead, recently launched a new section: “SheSays.” No, you have not just been transported back fifty years (after all, you’re reading this post on a blog and the section title — “SheSays” — is clearly modern because it lacks the space between the words. SoHip. IfOnly.) Judging from the printed letters to the editor, the backlash to the section has been significant. I’d like to add my voice.
The October 2 article explaining the reasoning behind the new section is now ensconced behind a pay wall, so I can’t access it as I compose this post. Nancy Edmonds Hanson, a former Forum reporter, did quote from the introductory piece recently, however, expressing her frustration in an October 15 letter to the editor.
Hanson makes multiple sound arguments. First, she worries that women’s issues have been returned to “the ghetto” of a special section. Next, she discusses the history of the Forum nixing the “women’s” section years ago, writing, “Somewhere along the line, The Forum’s leadership finally recognized that many, many of the topics now been relegated to SheSays aren’t limited to women. Food, gardening, raising children – they’re obviously of interest to male as well as female readers.”
Her wise words continue, ending with praise for what The Forum does best — “your staff includes many of the most talented writers and news photographers in the region” — and basically calling for The Forum to distinguish itself from women’s issues magazines, gossip rags, and fluff.
Hanson, and many others, have expressed their dissatisfaction clearly. I understand, times are tough for the news industry. Ad revenues are falling. People seem to care less about local news, even as strapped national news agencies make their content available for free online. But, even so, a women’s section? Really?
I have two nieces living fairly near Fargo. I hope they never read The Forum’s SheSays section. If they did, I fear this is what they would gather:
- that the place of girls and women is the SheSays section, not Politics, or the Sports section, or Business
- that women are the only partners who care about parenting, and when they do so it’s mainly about what food to serve and how to deal with problem children
- that female reporters’ stories should be read with suspicion since so many are secluded in one section
- that women’s issues are distinct from men and the rest of society, that rather than being part of a community that must address gender pay disparity together, sexism together, and understands the full flourishing of women as a communal issue, it’s only an issue for women to discuss amongst themselves (if at all) and men have no part in it
All that said, I know no reason to assume ulterior motives, or that the SheSays move was anything other than a good faith move by the Forum to present a fresh look at women’s issues. Indeed, we have a long way to go on gender issues in the region, not to mention broader battles over race, sexuality, economic justice, and more. But I don’t think a special section is the way to go. It sends a mixed and confusing message, at best. I hope to see SheSays go, even as nuanced, deep, and thoughtful coverage of the gender issues that affect us all, continues.
image by Hilde Vanstraelen
Friday free-for-all
So much is swirling around my already taxed mind these days I can’t seem to pop out a traditional post, so here’s some bullets from the swirl:
- The three state sanctioned executions this week greatly trouble me. Opposition to the death penalty is an issue deeply tied to my Christian faith, so much so that I admit my inability to understand those of differing perspectives. Lord have mercy.
- I join the chorus of those surprised that none of the GOP presidential candidates expressed concern over the boos from the crowd at last night’s debate after a gay solider serving in Iraq. I won’t even begin to imagine the uproar if a Democratic candidate had advocated against a policy supported by top military officials and failed to give thanks for a soldier’s service to our country.
- I enjoyed attending my first (ELCA) synod ministry conference at Fair Hills Resort recently. The three days for pastors in the region to meet, study, have sabbath, and learn from one another was a welcome respite from other tough tasks of ministry. I wonder if more Presbyterians might adopt a similar model of regional gatherings for pastoral support, encouragement, and rest.
- Marci Glass, a pastor friend in Boise, Idaho recently posted on her decision not to sign any more traditional marriage certificates until she might also do so for same-sex couples. I deeply respect her position. I’ve never been a fan of pastors signing state documents in the first place.
- I laugh every time Facebook changes and folks freak out, mainly because it so perfectly illustrates the struggle of many church leaders to bring about change in the church. That said, I do have one minor complaint regarding the recent changes: when working in a page I administer, I can no longer send a message to a group I’ve made out of personal friends. One can access groups Facebook automatically creates (such as friends from Fargo, ND) but not the Project F-M group I’ve lovingly groomed over the past six months. Oh well.
- I enjoyed speaking recently at a presbytery event, leading workshops on the church and technology and giving the keynote, “The Ten Commandments 2.0″ FYI, I’m always up for speaking invites — especially on fun topics
image by Henk L
On apples and oranges known as an Interfaith Spirituality Panel & Republican Presidential Debate
This week I’ve found the juxtaposition of two evening events particularly striking. On Monday night, I attended an Interfaith Spirituality Panel of young women at Concordia College. Last night I watched (most of) the Republican Debate broadcast from the Reagan Library and Museum. The experiences could not have been more different.
- At the Interfaith Panel the women spoke from their own experiences but did so while also seeking to gain understanding from others.
- At the debate last night the politicians spoke about their own plans and rarely mentioned the wisdom of others.
- At the Interfaith Panel the women were very interested in naming the difficulty they found distinguishing faith from culture, in separating their personal choices and discoveries from their experiences and upbringing.
- At the debate the politicians focused a lot on what they did themselves to make it in the world, on how their own pursuits led — and will lead — to great success.
- At the Interfaith Panel I glimpsed religious diversity — Atheism, Tibetan Buddhist, Christian convert to Judaism, Hinduism, Christianity (Lutheran). This diversity was welcomed and enjoyed.
- At the debate the politicians’ religious diversity — to the extent it existed from Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Mormon — felt more like a liability than something to be welcomed and embraced.
Obviously the events were totally different contexts. They are difficult to compare. But here’s the thing. As much as I love a good debate — and I do, very much — I left the Interfaith Spirituality Panel uplifted but walked away from the broadcast of the Presidential debate downhearted. Surely this says plenty about my political persuasions. But, it also makes me wonder what those young college women grasped that those Presidential contenders didn’t.
image by Jeroen van de Sande
Connect Online
One of my more conservative friends posted this picture on his Facebook page recently, shared under the headline, “It’s funny, because it’s true.”
I get it. Ironic, right? Maybe so. Yes, the captions make a point, but it’s not one I find compelling. In fact, it illustrates just how important the protests are, and how challenging it is to live in corporate America.
Some folks might argue, I suppose, that if you use buy something from a certain corporation (a MacBook, say), then by that purchase you declare your support for the company. In a market economy, you speak with money. The reasoning goes: if you don’t want to support Apple, don’t buy a MacBook. Simple enough.
I can appreciate the directness of this approach. I wish life were as simple as that. But, it’s not.
If it were, I couldn’t ever complain to a company after I bought their product…but I do.
If it were, I couldn’t lobby my representatives after I voted them into office….but I do.
If it were, I couldn’t both go to church, financially support its ministry, and at the same time work for change within the church…but I do.
In an NPR report by Margot Adler, Occupy Wall Street protester Jason Ahmadi acknowledged this tension. He said, “McDonalds that’s where we use the bathroom. Verizon, that’s how we, you know, give you our live stream that we’re broadcasting.”
And that, my friends, is the lovely, beautiful, challenging, tension of our times. It’s the gray. That’s how I can proudly pay taxes, and advocate the government spend them differently. That’s how I can buy Patagonia long pants, and email them suggesting they make an “extra long” variety as well. That’s how I can say, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”
In short, that’s how I live: simultaneously sinner and saint.
So the image above, rather than demonstrating the silliness of the protests, actually illustrates, for me, their great importance. Long live the tension, those who shed light on it, and all who struggle with the questions of our day.