Visit Your Local PBS Station PBS Home PBS Home Programs A-Z TV Schedules Watch Video Support PBS Shop PBS Search PBS
Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly -- An online companion to the weekly television news program
Keyword Search
Topic Index Stories by Week
Home
Current Stories
Headlines
Election Coverage
Special Issues
TV Schedule
Calendar
Newsletter
Subscribe or unsubscribe to the E-mail Newsletter, or edit your preferences.
The Series
About the Series
Funding
Biographies
Awards
Credits
For Teachers
Overview
Lesson Plan List
Tips
Teacher Resources
Resources
Viewer's Guides
Videotapes
Featured Sites
Feedback
Contact Us
Story Suggestions

Recently in Faith-Based Category

Everybody loves to spin a top, and during political seasons everybody loves to spin whatever seems spin-able. First, someone spins it to the left, and then somebody else spins it to the right. Those who are experts in the art of spinning never want the spinning to stop. For when the spinning stops, things might be seen for what they are.

The words and records of the candidates are always subject to the spin experts. Lately, the spin doctors have had a run at an answer Sarah Palin provided on a questionnaire for the conservative Eagle Forum Alaska during her run for the governor's office in 2006. The question posed by the forum was, "Are you offended by the phrase 'under God' in the Pledge of Allegiance?" "Not on your life," Palin responded. "If it was good enough for the Founding Fathers, it's good enough for me, and I'll fight in defense of our Pledge of Allegiance."

Without going into much detail, the Anchorage Daily News quickly pointed out to its readers (October 16, 2006) that Palin evidently had false assumptions about history. The founders, of course, did not have anything to do with the Pledge of Allegiance. Francis Bellamy, a Baptist minister, authored the pledge in 1892 as part of an effort by President Benjamin Harrison to celebrate the 400th anniversary of the discovery of America. Bellamy and the magazine he was associated with hoped to use the pledge to promote the sale of American flags to public schools in order to raise money for their work. A joint resolution of Congress codified the pledge into public law in 1942. Later, following many years of lobbying efforts by the Knights of Columbus and the American Legion, Congress amended the pledge in 1954 by adding the words "under God." The amended version became official on Flag Day that year, but prior to then the pledge, even though written by a minister, did not mention God at all.

In late August, shortly after Senator McCain's selection of Palin, the blogging started. The Daily Kos, a liberal blog, responded to Palin's pledge to the pledge by describing her as a "female George Bush," a phrase meant to describe someone who is not particularly bright and who has no literate sense of history. In mid-September, Ann Coulter, the conservative political analyst and lawyer, responded with her spin that Palin did not, by her comments, mean to imply that the "founding fathers' wrote the pledge of allegiance, but rather that "the founding fathers believed this was a country 'under God'." "Which," wrote Coulter, "um, it is."

For the sake of argument, let's assume that the right is right (perhaps a stretch, but...). If Palin did not intend to imply that she thought the founders authored the pledge, she meant to emphasize that they believed wholeheartedly in the proposition that America is a country "under God,"  just like, one must also assume, Palin believes is the case today. It is certainly defensible to argue that most of the founders believed America needed to take God seriously. Even the deists, like Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, hardly conventional Christians in the loosest consideration of that description, believed America was subject to the judgment of God. Evidence of the founders' sense of God's judgment on all nations and peoples is evident throughout their writings. Though they could connect God's will to particular national enterprises, as in the case of the American Revolutionary War, they usually used language about the divine to emphasize accountability of the country (and all countries) to God.


The Pledge of Allegiance written in the hand of its author, Francis Bellamy.

The founders were certainly comfortable with language about God, but they did not use the phrase "under God" (there is no written record of the founders ever using it). Instead, "under God" became commonplace in American public life only after World War II, particularly during the Cold War, when America sought to convince itself and the world that God was on America's side in opposing "atheistic communism." This twentieth-century notion, shared by Sarah Palin and other socially conservative Christians, emphasizes that "under God" means that God stands with America, that America is God's chosen country. It developed naturally out of twentieth-century events, like the victories in two major world wars and the rapid accumulation of wealth after America successfully dealt with the difficulties of the Great Depression. The rise of the religious right since the 1970s has only solidified these assumptions.

This developing American belief in God's automatic blessing also possesses significant roots in the previous century. The events surrounding American expansionism during the nineteenth century, including Manifest Destiny, imperialism, and rapid urbanization and industrialization, caused Americans to turn more comfortably to using God-language to describe America's goodness and to communicate how America was better than any other country in the world because it was "under God."

The point here is that the founders' notion of what it meant to be a country that takes God seriously is, historically, quite distinct from the notion that operates in many Christian and political communities today, which is much more like saying God takes America seriously.

Palin's pledge to the pledge and to "under God" has other interesting implications. In a 2004 Supreme Court decision about the constitutionality of reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in public schools, the Court temporarily avoided the issues in the case by stating that Michael Newdow, the atheist suing on behalf of his daughter, did not have standing to sue because he was not the custodial parent. The arguments of the case, however, contained an ironic twist that Sarah Palin has likely never considered. The two attorneys arguing to keep "under God" in the pledge did so by stating that the phrase "one nation under God" is simply a "political philosophy," merely "ceremonial" in nature and not at all a "religious exercise." Ironically, it was Newdow who argued that the words are truly religious and should be taken seriously. In fact, a brief submitted by religious leaders supported Newdow's efforts to remove the phrase precisely because, as currently understood, the Pledge of Allegiance forces Christian children to take God's name in vain every day. Using God's name ritualistically, or in simply ceremonial fashion, is to take God's name in vain.

Perhaps those like Sarah Palin who consider themselves committed Christians who believe in the holiness of God should reconsider their resolve to support national and cultural tendencies to use God's name merely ceremoniously or as a way to provide divine sanction for all things American. Genuine concern for the holiness of God just might demand it.

-- Mark G. Toulouse is professor of American religious history at Brite Divinity School at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas, and the author of GOD IN PUBLIC: FOUR WAYS AMERICAN CHRISTIANITY AND PUBLIC LIFE RELATE (Westminster John Knox Press, 2006).



| Comments (4)

In this exclusive online conversation, Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly managing editor Kim Lawton talks with Rev. Jim Wallis, editor of Sojourners magazine and author of THE GREAT AWAKENING, about how the financial crisis may affect the presidential campaign. Wallis describes how the candidates should be framing the moral dimensions of the crisis and what principles he thinks voters should be considering at the ballot box.

Sorry, you need the latest version of the free flash player in order to watch the video clips.



| Comments (4)

At a September 18 roundtable discussion with religion reporters, five Senate Democrats talked about the role of religion in politics and Democratic outreach to religious leaders and communities of faith. Senator Robert Casey (D-PA) spoke of the need for politicians to respect the importance of faith in the lives of American voters and said "the Catholic vote" is not a monolith but is "every bit as diverse as every other group." Listen to excerpts from his comments.

(Photo by Tom Williams)

Listen to audio excerpt

| Comments (0)

Rabbi Steve Gutow, executive director of the Jewish Council for Public Affairs, spoke with Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly at a September 16 interfaith vigil on Capitol Hill on "Fighting Poverty with Faith: A Week of Action." Organized by the Jewish Council for Public Affairs and Catholic Charities USA, it is an effort to mobilize members of national faith-based organizations in more than 80 cities to raise questions with political candidates about what they will do in their first 100 days in office to address poverty. Rabbi Gutow talks about the poor, the middle class, the current economy, and what he hopes the next president will do.

Sorry, you need the latest version of the free flash player in order to watch the video clips.



| Comments (12)

On the floor of the Republican National Convention, Nancy Pfotenhauer, senior policy advisor to the McCain campaign, talks to Religion and Ethics NewsWeekly managing editor Kim Lawton about the role people of faith will play in the campaign and how John McCain will appeal to them despite his discomfort in speaking publicly about issues of faith.

Sorry, you need the latest version of the free flash player in order to watch the video clips.



| Comments (4)

By the end of the Democratic Convention, John McCain knew that his campaign was in deep trouble. Hillary and Bill Clinton had rallied her followers to get behind Barack Obama; Obama closed the convention with a spectacular speech in a stadium spectacle; all of McCain's vice-presidential contenders were either boring or unacceptable to the evangelical right or both; the Republican right-wing base was sour and depressed; and the Republican Convention was scheduled to begin with George W. Bush and Dick Cheney night.

McCain realized where all of that was leading, and it galled him that so many Democratic speakers dismissed his claim to maverick status as laughable. John Kerry chided that his friend McCain, before trying to debate Obama, needed to have a debate with himself. Others suggested that McCain abandoned his independence so long ago he represented a third Bush term in all but name; supporting Bush 90 percent of the time was not quite the mark of a maverick.

That must have hit close to home, since McCain prizes his (outdated) reputation for independence. He wants to be recognized as a clean-government reformer almost as much as he wants to be president; plus, the two things go together in this year's electoral aftermath of the Bush debacle. So at the last moment McCain made the most important decision of his campaign by opting for an unknown running mate whom he had met twice and interviewed a single time.

Palin.jpgSarah Palin's vetting was apparently a one-day affair, occurring the day before McCain offered her the nomination. The process was too rushed to have covered much of anything. Did McCain realize how little Palin knows about the world? Did he know that she had never traveled abroad until 2007? Did he even know she assiduously promoted the "bridge to nowhere" before she became the clean-government governor that turned against it?

Too much of the early media scrutiny along this line has fixated on a family issue that should be out of bounds in a political campaign; no candidate deserves to have her or his children roasted in the media. McCain may well have stumbled into lifting up the next star of the Republican Party. Palin has already electrified the party's base and provided a godsend-distraction from eight years of job losses, disappearing health coverage, massive budget and trade deficits, a two-and-a-half trillion dollar mortgage meltdown, a two-trillion dollar disaster in Iraq, and a damaged American image in the world.

But whatever Palin's strengths or weaknesses as a political performer may turn out to be, McCain's turn to her confirms the most unsettling thing about him -- his impulsive temperament. I opposed Howard Dean's candidacy for the presidency in 2004, despite sharing his opposition to the war in Iraq, because he struck me from the beginning as lacking the requisite self-discipline and prudence for the job. McCain has similar problems on a larger scale. He has an amply founded reputation for shooting first and thinking later; even his friends describe him as volatile and quarrelsome. Though considerate to staff underlings, McCain's hair-trigger rages against colleagues are legendary in the Senate. These tendencies correlate with his militaristic mindset and his distinctly self-righteous view of himself as a crusader for the public interest surrounded by corruptible types.

On the first night of the convention, Hurricane Gustav rescued the Republican Party from an entire night of George Bush and Dick Cheney. On the second night the party featured its patriotic militarism as a party-unifying theme and told the story of McCain's war heroism. That is not much of a platform for a presidential campaign, but the party has the immense distraction of Palin's novelty on its side, which will at least allow the McCain campaign to survive its own convention.

--Gary Dorrien is the Reinhold Niebuhr Professor of Social Ethics at Union Theological Seminary and professor of religion at Columbia University.

| Comments (0)

In a wide-ranging interview with Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly managing editor Kim Lawton, the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Denver comments on the responsibility of American Catholics to be involved in political life, the controversy over withholding Communion from pro-choice Catholic politicians, and more.

Sorry, you need the latest version of the free flash player in order to watch the video clips.



| Comments (0)

Humorist Will Rogers was famous for joking, "I am a member of no organized political party. I am a Democrat." The 2008 Democratic National Convention demonstrated just how far removed today's Democratic Party is from that of Rogers' day.

Yes, there was the usual on-floor and after-session partying. But this convention was more carefully orchestrated than most Democratic conventions. It was the product of angry and determined professionals -- people tired of eight years of G.O.P. control of the White House.  

To a large degree, convention planners succeeded. Speeches by Bill and Hillary Clinton went a long way toward mollifying diehard Hillary supporters and creating a sense of party unity. The spectacular appearance of Obama in an outdoor stadium before 70,000 adoring supporters was a political master-stroke. All of the speakers were well-coiffed and well-prepared for their pre-established roles. Democrats left the convention with good reason to expect a smashing victory in November.

On the other hand, the Democratic Convention may have left some party supporters longing for the good old days. To be sure, no one wanted a return to the chaos of 1968.  But 2008 seemed to lack the authenticity of past conventions. Is Michelle Obama really the middle-class housewife portrayed in her speech? Have the Clintons really made peace with Obama? Can Obama, with his appeals to voter self-interest, truly be as inspirational as John F. Kennedy, with his appeals to altruism and self-sacrifice?

The Democrats' authenticity issues were starkly illustrated by their valiant but controversial faith initiatives at the convention. They did their best to remove the party's anti-faith image. Democrats organized "faith concerns" meetings led by Christians, Muslims, and Jews. Obama selected Catholic layman Joe Biden as his running mate. Nancy Pelosi presented her interpretation of Catholic abortion policy on Meet the Press. Speakers made use of religious rhetoric.

Yet nagging doubts about the Democrats' seemingly newfound commitment to religion remained, especially among the conservative evangelical voters who are so crucial to electoral success, particularly in southern states. One reason is that, despite the welter of news stories about the emerging evangelical "center" with a social justice agenda, Democrats differ strongly with evangelicals on the two issues that continue to matter most to Protestant (and Catholic) conservatives -- abortion and gay rights.

Efforts to downplay or explain away these differences proved difficult and even embarrassing, as when the Archbishop of Washington took sharp issue with Nancy Pelosi's interpretation of Catholic theology. Prominent black and Jewish leaders challenged the party on issues ranging from abortion to school choice. And Cameron Strang, founder of RELEVANT, a Christian magazine for twenty-somethings, embarrassed party leaders by refusing to give the closing benediction on the first day of the convention.

So how should one evaluate the success or failure of the Democrats' faith initiative? On the negative side, the efforts seemed strained and unlikely to convince religious conservatives to vote for Obama. On the other hand, the Democrats do not need to win most of the conservative evangelical vote to win in 2008; they simply need to erode G.O.P. support among group members. In that, they may have succeeded.

Some conservative evangelicals may give Democrats grudging credit for addressing religious issues, even if done in a somewhat clumsy fashion. More moderate evangelicals may, to some extent, be attracted by Democratic efforts to appeal to the strong social justice tradition of American Protestantism. But perhaps even more important, particularly in the long run, may be the Democrats' efforts to appeal to growing nontraditional religious groups, such as Muslims, as well as to social justice-oriented mainline Protestants.

John McCain's selection of culturally conservative Gov. Sarah Palin as his running mate may indeed reduce the numbers of evangelical defectors in 2008. But, in the longer term, the
Democrats' newfound religion may work to the party's advantage, provided that voters can be convinced the party's religious appeals are genuine and not a cynical ploy to attract "the faithful."

-- James M. Penning is director of the Center for Social Research and professor of political science at Calvin College.

| Comments (0)

Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick offered a curious contrast in his Democratic Convention speech earlier this week. He deemed Senator Barack Obama a man of vision and compared him to the policies and programs of the Bush administration. He concluded that America needs vision, not "more policies and programs."

Such a sentiment almost came across as an apology for a candidacy that has been plagued by criticism of "lack of substance," and "celebrity politics" from its inception. In addition, Patrick's contrast set up an antithetical relationship between vision and policy that is both unnecessary in government and foreign to religious tradition.

Biblical prophets cast vision and proposed policy. They offered apocalyptic hopes for future (and current) generations and brought clear indictment to failed policies for the poor, while proffering concrete practices consistent with such vision. People need hope and structures that enact those hopes. People require proscriptive vision and prescriptive vehicles. When Martin Luther King proclaimed his dream 45 years ago from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, he was careful to document policy issues such as states' rights and the statecraft of federal government (critiquing charges of "interposition and nullification" from southern states) in his journey to the demographically diverse mountaintops from which freedom should ring.

trulearjpg.jpgLast night's speech was Obama's great opportunity to show that vision and policy do not live in separate worlds. Indeed, his speech needed to reflect the appropriate balance of what African-American Christian ethicist Peter Paris has called the "political idealism" and "political realism" that combine to form "political wisdom." Political realism without vision becomes crude pragmatism. Political idealism without political realism degenerates into irrelevancy and a disconnected otherworldliness. In the prophetic tradition, the best of a prophet's otherworldly offerings set the context for change in this life. Could Obama pull this off?

We got the hope, we got the vision. And yes, the "policies and programs" deemed antithetical to vision earlier in the convention came rushing in amidst the framework of Obama's campaign ideals. Tax cuts for 95 percent of working Americans, equal pay for equal work, investment in support for members and veterans of the armed forces and their families, development of alternative energy sources, and commitment to investment in education from early childhood through college came rolling down like waters. Fair treatment of gay and lesbian relationships, a relentless pursuit of Al-Qaeda, accessible health care for all Americans, and protection of workers' pensions before CEO bonuses came rushing as a mighty stream. The policy came through -- and then the return to vision.

That return expressed itself in a commitment to a form of debate that seeks common ground on the problems we face. The new politics pressed calls for reasoned debates among those who disagree on how to handle unwanted pregnancy, same-sex unions, and other issues that have drawn a fundamentalist stridency from all sides. Obama appealed to a democratic spirit of rigorous debate and discussion and to the common purpose at the root of the American dream.

The speech was not perfect, nor all of the answers emotionally satisfying for this observer. As an African-American Republican whose party affiliation predates the right-wing hijacking of the party, I still have views of policy that differ greatly from Obama's. As an evangelical Christian, I am diametrically opposed to his views and votes on how to deal with unwanted pregnancies and same-sex unions. But I am all for the need for a different style of debate and statecraft, even if some of Obama's own behaviors, such as dissing and ditching Jeremiah Wright, reflect the old politics of expediency. And I will vote for him.

I will vote for him because of the hope for a new form of debate and a commitment to some of the policy proposals he has advanced. And I will vote for him because he is Black. That may seem heretical in a "post-racial" society, but I am not alone in saying that post-racial is not a-racial. To be truly post-racial is not to deny the history and realities of race, but to remember and think of them differently. Forgiveness, in the biblical tradition, does not mean to forget what has happened, but to overcome the bitterness inflicted and to remember the pain of the past in ways that empower the future -- to use them as occasions to rise above the hurt and seek justice that precludes others from past pains made present.

And so I remember the pain of slavery, segregation, and discrimination. I remember the national consensus on denied opportunities to minorities that led to Thurgood Marshall prodding a judicial activism in 1954, because legislation would never lead to justice as long as electoral politics reflected a national culture of racism. I remember being a child of the '60s and believing that if a Black man were ever elected president, it would be in 2000 or 2020 because, at the time, every president from Harrison in 1840 to Kennedy in 1960 who had been elected in a year divisible by 20 had died in office (and I couldn't get it out of my mind last night as I watched the speech that someone might shoot Obama before my eyes on national television; I let out a sigh of relief when he was finished).

I will vote for him because I choose to remember the racial past differently, for only then can we envision a post-racial America where the oppression of the past becomes a springboard for courageous living in the future. The new terms of the debate proposed last night give me that opportunity. We have the opportunity to live in Paris's notion of political wisdom for the first time in a generation.

Harold Dean Trulear is associate professor of applied theology at the Howard University School of Divinity.
| Comments (4)

In 2000, I was fortunate enough to attend the Republican Convention in Philadelphia as an instructor in an experiential learning program for college students. That convention, which nominated then-Texas governor George W. Bush for president of the United States, was noted for its overt attempts to present a diverse public face to television viewers. Convention organizers paraded the widest possible variety of racial, ethnic, cultural, and age differences, all supporting the GOP. "Looking diverse" was the first goal in allocating prime-time podium minutes and around-the-clock media availability. It was a concerted effort, and it felt to me, as an up-close observer, a forced and artificial one, given the homogenous nature of the GOP and, particularly, its delegates and candidates.

While it may have reflected a good strategy, and even the personal disposition of that year's Republican nominee, it rang hollow as a true representation of the Grand Old Party. No one can state with certainty whether those convention efforts helped Bush win in 2000, in what should have been, by most economic and political indicators, an easy Democratic year. In such a close race, perhaps it made the difference. But that did not take away the artificial feel of the convention nor the confirmation of that feeling in the lack of substantive movement toward diversity by the party in the eight years hence.

I have much the same impression in observing from afar the officially sanctioned faith expressions and other faith-related efforts surrounding this week's Democratic convention in Denver. Faith is all around to see -- and we're sure to see it easily -- with opening worship, daily faith-friendly events, greater willingness of prime-time speakers to give nods to faith in at least a generic sense, and a concerted effort not to criticize explicitly religious public language. But the faith on display is one fully consonant with longstanding Democratic Party positions on every key issue that have been in party platforms for years. It "feels" fake -- much like the Republicans in 2000. There is this week, so far at least, no convincing evidence that this "faith talk" is anything more than merely a new strategy by party operatives to gain an additional slice of a voter demographic in November, so that once they win the party can govern as usual.

Barack Obama.jpgTrue faith, it seems to me, fits comfortably within no political party, and certainly not today's Republicans and Democrats. A party that claims to embrace faith anew must show that new embrace in some changes from prior policy, not mere "acknowledgment" that there is a moral dimension to issues that ultimately get settled on the traditional side. The rhetorical nods, the small "tweaks" in the party platform, and the controlled events of this week are not enough.

Obama, by all evidence a thoughtful person of sincere Christian faith, has a chance to change that impression tonight. What I'm looking for is one position he has taken that has hurt, rather than enhanced, his and his party's longstanding policies and electoral motives and that can arguably be based on a sincere faith which grapples thoughtfully with its consequences for public life.

I've not seen it yet. But I still have the audacity to hope that I will.

--Douglas Koopman is a professor of political science at Calvin College.

| Comments (0)


Tag Cloud