I left home for the office this morning just before Mitt Romney started his speech about faith. I couldn’t find it on the radio (I was a bit surprised that NPR didn’t pick it up, and I mean that seriously rather than facetiously), and couldn’t get it to stream online. So I’ll have to content myself, for now, with reading excerpts from the speech that the Romney campaign released in advance.
I’m an evangelical who has spent almost his entire life in the secular academy. There are few other serious Christians in my department; most of the colleagues to whom I am closest are firm atheists. Indeed, I note that more and more folks I run into these days seem willing to call themselves atheists rather than agnostics. There seems to be more openness about unbelief, and I appreciate that we live in a climate where those who are genuinely convinced that there is no God at all don’t feel pressured to use the safer language of uncertainty and doubt.
Romney said this morning:
We separate church and state affairs in this country, and for good reason. No religion should dictate to the state nor should the state interfere with the free practice of religion. But in recent years, the notion of the separation of church and state has been taken by some well beyond its original meaning. They seek to remove from the public domain any acknowledgment of God. Religion is seen as merely a private affair with no place in public life. It is as if they are intent on establishing a new religion in America — the religion of secularism. They are wrong.
Mitt’s got it right when he suggests that it is unreasonable to ask anyone to divorce their spiritual convictions from their politics. The post immediately below this one is a brief polemic against compartmentalization, albeit a very different kind of compartmentalization. But to a serious believer, a Sunday morning (or Saturday morning) faith is poor beer indeed. If the relationship I have with God is the transcendent Fact of my life, it’s absurd to suggest that that Fact shouldn’t inform and guide everything I do — including how I teach and how I vote.
But the parallel to teaching is important. My faith makes me, I’m certain, a better teacher. That doesn’t mean that folks who don’t share my faith can’t be good teachers (better than I in many cases). It doesn’t mean that folks who have no faith at all can’t be wonderful instructors and mentors. It is simply true that in my case, my faith has made me an infinitely kinder, more patient, and less self-absorbed person. (Whatever notable tendencies I still have towards self-absorption, are, of course, attributable to the obvious reality that I, like all converts, am still very much a work in progress.) If someone asks me, “Hugo, why do you do what you do the way you do it?”, faith is going to be part of my answer. But the fact that my teaching rests on a spiritual foundation doesn’t mean that I am entitled to inject my spiritual beliefs into the classroom. If I can be a fairly religious person, and work day in and day out without talking incessantly about how my faith undergirds everything I’m doing, then I’m quite confident that others can do the same. That’s not compartmentalization, because I’m not living at odds with my faith or hiding my faith. I’m just choosing not to bludgeon folks with the cross. I’d like it if my fellow believers in public life felt the same way.
(And for the record, the notion of a “religion of secularism” is silly. But suppose someone did want to start such a religion, committed to the notion that the Divine Being is Absent, Never Was, and Never Will Be? The America I want is an America where that “religion” would be able to take its place in the public square too.)
But I’m particularly troubled by the (admittedly eloquent) concluding lines of Romney’s speech, sure to be remembered longest:
In such a world, we can be deeply thankful that we live in a land where reason and religion are friends and allies in the cause of liberty, joined against the evils and dangers of the day. And you can be certain of this: Any believer in religious freedom, any person who has knelt in prayer to the Almighty, has a friend and ally in me. And so it is for hundreds of millions of our countrymen: we do not insist on a single strain of religion — rather, we welcome our nation’s symphony of faith.
Bold emphasis mine.
Yikes. I hit my knees a lot, Mitt, and I worship the same Almighty you do. I’m heartened to hear you will be my friend and ally. Tell me, will you also be a friend and ally to my mother, who does not believe in God? (For that matter, will you be a friend and ally to many of my Anabaptist friends, who believe in God but don’t kneel?)
And I wince at the notion that faith is a symphony. Symphonies, as we understand them, are innovations of the Christian west. The image that pops into my head is of the Catholics in the string section, the Baptists blowin’ their horns, the Eastern Orthodox on their woodwinds and the Pentecostals on percussion. Perhaps they’ll play “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” and it will sound very pretty. But will there be Muslims? Will there be atheists? Will there be Buddhists and Hindus? Will there be animists and Wiccans?
Real diversity is not harmonious. Real diversity is African and Japanese drums, the throbbing of synthesized beats, the rich, challenging melodies of an Indonesian gamelan — and French horns. Put that all together, and it isn’t going to be a beautiful symphony. It’ll be beautiful yes, but it will be the beauty of a great big messy cacophony, like what happens when you put plastic musical instruments into the hands of second-graders on a sugar high. And that great big messy cacophany is my America, Mitt. It’s the rancheras I hear blasting as I drive through Highland Park, it’s the hip-hop bumping from the car stereos as I walk on Crenshaw. It’s the ululating of Sephardic Jewish women at a Kabbalistic wedding, and it’s the speaking in tongues of Pentecostals at a late night prayer meetin’. It’s noisy and it’s difficult to understand and it doesn’t all fit together.
Religion has a place in the public square. But it doesn’t get to define the boundaries of the public square. Public displays of faith have their place, indeed — but so too do public displays of humanistic secularism. The right to pray as one chooses is inextricably linked to the equally important right to scoff at those who pray. Real ecumenism, real diversity, is not simply making the case for common ground between Mormons and evangelical Protestants, arguing that each has a part to play in the grand symphony of faith. A real commitment to diversity is embracing not only all believers, but embracing all those who are in varying states of unbelief. I say this as a Christian who loves Jesus, and I say it on behalf of those whom I love who share my convictions — and those whom I love who don’t.
UPDATE: I wish I could say that the way I originally spelled “cacophony” was deliberate. When dealing with Greek suffixes, I’m better on manifestations than sounds, so “phany” always “looks right” to me. I’ve changed it to the right spelling now.
“Real diversity is not harmonious. Real diversity is African and Japanese drums, the throbbing of synthesized beats, the gentle thrum of the Indonesian gavilan — and French horns Put that all together, and it isn’t going to be a beautiful symphony. It’ll be beautiful yes, but it will be the beauty of a great big messy cacophany, like what happens when you put plastic musical instruments into the hands of second-graders on a sugar high. And that great big messy cacophany is my America, Mitt.”
That is the best definition of diversity in America that I have ever read.
The right to pray as one chooses is inextricably linked to the equally important right to scoff at those who pray.
And the right to scoff at those who pray is also inextricably linked to the right to scoff at those who do not.
Yes, kudos on the diversity point, and on the post in general. I consider myself as a Christian, but all this discussion of God in the campaign really creeps me out. In 1960 people needed reassurance that JFK wouldn’t be ordered around by the pope. It almost seems now that some people want reassurance that their candidates will take orders from their preachers.
I’d actually welcome an avowedly atheist candidate - In many ways I’d feel safer.
I wouldn’t vote for an atheist no matter what.
A tiny quibble, Hugo. Calling oneself an atheist needn’t indicate a certainty that no gods exist. It simply means that one does not believe in any gods. I’m an atheist but I claim no certainty. It is a- meaning “without” not a- meaning “against.” I am without gods.
Perhaps Romney loves symphonies by Charles Ives.
Oops…meant to include a link to a transcript.
http://www.wapt.com/print/14788890/detail.html
Recovering Atheist myself, Dev - you are what we would have called a “weak” atheist back when I was in American Atheists.
I like to know something about a candidate’s faith (or secular philosophy of life) because it helps me anticipate the values he will promote as president. However, it’s irritating when Protestants, in particular, act like their belief in Christ is some sort of merit badge. It’s called “salvation by grace”, people! You don’t understand your own program!
Question: Where do Mormons stand on the faith/works spectrum? Or the salvation issue generally?
Thanks, Hugo. It was good to read that.
Could I get you to expand on that a bit?
First of all–love what can’t be a typo in your post title: Cacophany, the merging of cacophony and epiphany; certainly indicates the whole subtext of wishful thinking. And Pentecostals on the percussion? You’ve got me pegged (even though I play keyboards, but hey, I’m not picky as long as I get to play something, even if it’s the congas).
I think the best definition of religious diversity that I’ve ever heard comes from the Dalai Lama (in _The Art of Happiness_). He says something to the effect that, if every citizen in our world community considered themselves part of a religion or spiritual movement, we’d still have 6 million individiual “religions” because my belief system differs from yours and the next person’s, even if we’re all Pentecostals (official tenets of faith aside).
As to Romney, this speech looks like a big step for him outside of what I’ve seen as a Mormon-sanctified comfort zone. His target audience is obviously Christians, especially those of a conservative bent, even though it looks like he’s trying not to offend the liberal ones among us. Hence the “bending knees” reference.
Lastly, I like the “I would/ would not vote for a Christian/ Atheist presidential candidate” in this comment thread and would like to offer up a spiritual Venn diagram: How about we concentrate less on spiritual leanings/ the exact God someone worships (or not) than on the ethics at the basis of any such spiritual leanings? For example, loving “your neighbor” never goes out of style in any “religion,” no matter whether we’re talking Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, at al. It may be expressed differently, but that’s about it. Time for a national comparative religions debate, I say!
I wouldn’t vote for an atheist no matter what.
Gonz, I’m kind of surprised to hear a self-described libertarian say something like that. (At least, I seem to recall you describing yourself as a libertarian. Perhaps I’m misremembering.) Religious tolerance has been almost as firmly embraced as property rights within libertarianism and its predecessors, especially among English-speaking thinkers — Locke, Jefferson, Paine, Emerson, and Thoreau. Indeed, Bakunin and Ayn Rand were both staunch atheists — although their brands of libertarianism were never exactly mainstream. I don’t know what more contemporary libertarians have to say about religion, but I’d be surprised if they had generally turned their back on Locke so dramatically.
I think statements in the vein Gonzman’s are pretty irredeemably stupid. Why should anyone play thought police? I would be thrilled to vote for any candidate whose positions matched mine, regardless of her purported ideas about the existence of deities.
And Hugo, I agree completely. It’s especially nice to be reminded that such sentiments can and do come from evangelical Christians, as well as secular people.
Could I get you to expand on that a bit?
What’s to expand on - is it unclear? If someone said in a political campaign “I am an atheist” they would not get my vote. I don’t care if they were a self-identified libertarian and matched me 100% otherwise - I would not vote for them. Period.
Gonz, I’m kind of surprised to hear a self-described libertarian say something like that. (At least, I seem to recall you describing yourself as a libertarian. Perhaps I’m misremembering.) Religious tolerance has been almost as firmly embraced as property rights within libertarianism and its predecessors, especially among English-speaking thinkers — Locke, Jefferson, Paine, Emerson, and Thoreau. Indeed, Bakunin and Ayn Rand were both staunch atheists — although their brands of libertarianism were never exactly mainstream. I don’t know what more contemporary libertarians have to say about religion, but I’d be surprised if they had generally turned their back on Locke so dramatically.
I’m not big on Locke, the notion of Jefferson as an atheist is a patent untruth, Paine was a schmuck, Thoreau navel gazing people who were given far more credit for original thought than they deserve. Bakunin? AYN RAND? Jeez. Stereotype much? Not all of us worship at the feet of the Holy Saint Ayn. Rand had little use for libertarians, being more of an anarcho-capitalist, a breed I find repugnant and would toss briskly out the door of the Libertarian Party were it within my power - so why should I give a rat’s patoot about her? In fact, I find objectivism, as a whole, to be a pathetic philosophy.
The fact that some of these had libertarian views only shows that “Even a blind squirrel finds a nut on occasion.”
You are mistaking “Libertarian” with the liberal notions. One of my first rules as a libertarian is that people have the absolute, patent, God-given right to be both wrong and stupid. It requires me ion no way to embrace it or celebrate it - or vote for it. By all means. Pass the petition, get your signatures, get party endorsement, campaign away. That is your right, and I will never deny it (Though many atheists often opine that belief in “gawd” disqualifies one to participate in politics on either side of the ballot box).
But it in no way obliges me to vote for them.
And it isn’t my SOLE make or break issue. I have about 8. It is the only one germaine here, besides the one where I would never vote for someone who was a theocrat, even if they were Catholic.
I think statements in the vein Gonzman’s are pretty irredeemably stupid.
Glad to see the no abuse rule is being evenhandedly enforced.
In any event, I know what a devout Hindu believes in. I know what a devout Orthodox Christian believes in. I know what a devout Jew believes in. And I know that their version of morality is not subject to change. True, they may not live up to it. A Guiliani, for example, is another lip-servicing, photo-op, type of faith, and I don’t believe he is sincere either - I think Rudy is a politician first - and a Catholic is way, way down on the list. Won’t vote for him, either.
I do not trust relative morality, though, and I have yet to find an atheist whose morality wasn’t, ultimately, relative. Hence, what they profess today may very well knuckle under to political expediency, pragmatism, or statistical morality tomorrow. There is a lack of principle there I find disquieting that I do not find in people of faith, even if their faith is different than mine.
And I don’t vote for that.
Is it considered abusive to say that an idea is stupid? I wouldn’t ever have thought of that, but if that’s the standard, I hope Hugo will delete the comment, and I’ll avoid that language in the future.
An addendum: the reason I said “in the vein of” is because I would consider it equally stupid to refuse to vote for someone simply because she did have a religion, even if her opinions otherwise meshed with yours. We’ve seen people of all (professed) creeds do terrible things, and people of all (professed) creeds do wonderful things — it really doesn’t seem to be a good predictor of behavior at all.
Ideas can be stupid, people can’t be (at least on my blog), but just to be safe, good catch, Daisy.
In any event, I know what a devout Hindu believes in. I know what a devout Orthodox Christian believes in. I know what a devout Jew believes in. And I know that their version of morality is not subject to change.
That’s not only simplistic, it’s flat-out wrong. I’m not going to say ’stupid’, but you seem to think that all religious faith is frozen in amber.
Gonz, the libertarian in me agrees with you. You have a perfect right to vote according to principles that are important to you, and I’d certainly not characterize your reasoning as stupid.
From my perspective, politicians with absolute principles scare me. I’d be more comfortable with an atheist than a religious zealot. I’m more comfortable with weak (but competent) presidents than “strong” ones.
Since we’re sharing our voting proclivities, I’m happy to share that I wouldn’t vote for a global capitalist no matter what.
It seems to me that the larger difficulty at play here is whether and how one can be religious and American at the same time. Hugo’s post and Romney’s speech both, albeit in different ways, suggest a subordination of the particularities of a religion to a subsuming diversity, and all of the comments save “The Gonzman’s” have pretty well followed suit (albeit often in the less sophisticated form of ‘religion is irrelevant to politics’). But in the wake of this subsuming diversity, how does an adherent to a particular religion remain faithful to that tradition, instead of ‘praising’ cacophony at the (very American) altar of diversity?
But in the wake of this subsuming diversity, how does an adherent to a particular religion remain faithful to that tradition, instead of ‘praising’ cacophony at the (very American) altar of diversity?
Jeff, to stick with the image I used in the post, I’m going to play my kazoo in the great cacophany. I’m going to let the kid next to me handle the plastic pipe organ. Cacophany is made of many distinctive sounds, each made with heartfelt and genuine passion. I can love my Christianness and love my Wiccan neighbor and love my atheist mom and love that we all bring our views about God, the Goddess, and the absence of the divine into much of what we do. Who was it, Perry? The fella who said the highest stage of ethical development is “commitment within relativism” or something (I’m too tired to google right now.)
That’s not only simplistic, it’s flat-out wrong. I’m not going to say ’stupid’, but you seem to think that all religious faith is frozen in amber.
Truth and the God who made it are eternal. Someone’s faith my waver, someone’s understanding may be imperfect .. but those are different things.
At least one who clings to those eternal truths - or at least seeks them - has ground to stand on from where I sit.
I do not trust relative morality, though, and I have yet to find an atheist whose morality wasn’t, ultimately, relative.
I know a few atheist philosophers (just of those I’ve met) who believe in an objective morality. It happens. (That isn’t to say they couldn’t be wrong to believe in both the absence of the divine and an objective moral standard, it just means they seem to think the two aren’t mutually exclusive).
As for the post itself, all very good points Hugo. My faith informs my morality and, ultimately, my politics, but I am well aware that my faith isn’t going to inform the morality and politics of everyone else in the public reasoning square. You have be true to your convictions, but be willing to find common cause (with atheists and all).
Gonz -
I didn’t say that Jefferson was an atheist, though he was certainly no theist. (Where have all the deists gone?) I said that he was a firm believer in religious tolerance. Bakunin and Rand came up, not as mainstream libertarians, but as people who often at least get a nod in libertarian circles and were not theists. As the qualifier `although their brands of libertarianism were never exactly mainstream’ was meant to suggest, you are entirely free to reject association with Rand and Bakunin, as indeed you did.
I have yet to find an atheist whose morality wasn’t, ultimately, relative. Hence, what they profess today may very well knuckle under to political expediency, pragmatism, or statistical morality tomorrow.
You must not be looking very hard. Try reading John Stuart Mill, John Rawls, Catherine MacKinnon, Marx, and William James. Kant was a theist — in a weird sort of way — and his ethics and political philosophy are completely compatible with atheism. That goes for Martha Nussbaum as well. (I suspect that Robert Nozick was an atheist, though I’m not confident enough to definitely include him.)
In any event, I know what a devout Hindu believes in. I know what a devout Orthodox Christian believes in. I know what a devout Jew believes in. And I know that their version of morality is not subject to change.
Wow. My department (philosophy) shares a building with the theology department. If you name any major political controversy of the day, I could easily find two devout Catholics within that department who come down on opposite sides of the issue, on entirely Catholic theological grounds.
Truth and the God who made it are eternal.
Just as an atheist could say “the principles of natural rights are eternal” or “the rightness of the workers’ struggle is eternal.” Having an unchanging source for morality says nothing about whether morality is relative.
I have this image that the joyful, heartfelt noise of our little cacophony is waning, because we’re starting to beat each other with our instruments :)
What is interesting, Hugo, is that you rejected your own view of a “symphony” of faith, not necessarily Mitts as you state in your title. You said the image you have at the word symphony is of a limited orchestra.
Perhaps Mitts version is much closer to your definition of cacphony. When I read Mitt’s statement, I viewed the symphony of religion as a beautiful sound arising from differing and often competing intruments to include every facet of american religious/non religious life. I too have an atheist, a catholic, a mormon, even a muslim and a hindu in my circle of friends and I could quite easily picture any of them in the orchestra producing Mitt’s symphony.
Funny that you could not without changing the terminology, instead of simply being willing to change your point of view.
Chad, the bit about “any person who has knelt in prayer to the Almighty, has a friend and ally in me” — without any mention whatsoever of those who don’t believe in the Almighty — is indeed exclusionary. I am glad you can picture all these folks in Mitt’s symphony, but from the words he chose, I can’t.
Truth and the God who made it are eternal.
Once you start talking about someone making truth (which not all theists believe), it seems like your truth becomes a lot more conditional, contingent and arbitrary than that of most atheists. I wonder if there is a correlation between believing “God made Truth” and “If the president does it, it’s not illegal”–they seem analogous. A tempting idea, but I suspect there is little–the effect of metaphysics on behavior is almost always overstated.
Here’s a link to a transcript over on Time & Seasons, an LDS site, along with lots of LDS responses in the comments section: http://www.timesandseasons.org/?p=4280
(I’m an atheist myself, but pretty admiring of the LDS approach to life.)
Why is being gay bad? Because it’s True, and God made Truth.
It’s a slightly more complex version of ‘Because I said so’.
Gonz is a good example of the sort of person I worry about having a schizophrenic break someday and killing someone. They’ll do anything God tells them to do.
“And for the record, the notion of a “religion of secularism” is silly. But suppose someone did want to start such a religion, committed to the notion that the Divine Being is Absent, Never Was, and Never Will Be? The America I want is an America where that “religion” would be able to take its place in the public square too.”
A “religion of secularism” would be a religion, not of atheism, but one demanding that no expression of any faith would be permitted where it might be seen by someone else who might possibly be offended.
I believe it’s silly, but it does exist. The suggestion a few years back by some professional victims that churches remove all exterior crosses and any mention of the words “God,” “Jesus,” “Holy Spirit,” etc. as offensive and threatening and racist and sexist comes to mind.
At least so far, that claptrap doesn’t get too far in an organized way. But there have been school boards that have prohibited students from reading Bibles on their own time, talking about God with friends, etc.
Maybe you live in a magical place where free expression of religion is permitted, but I’ve seen the nonsense firsthand at a local zoning meeting where the government decided that a proposed mission was not appropriate for our church to undertake and that we should do things they approved of instead. Our minister got all Christian on us and didn’t fight, which was a real disappointment. I was so looking forward to calling the ACLU to see if they’d take the case. Either way the ACLU decided, it would have been quite entertaining for me.
Regarding the Indonesian Gamelan portion of this cacophony, would that be Central Javanese (and if so, Solo or Yogya style), Sundanese, Cerbon, Madurese, Banjar (Kalimantan), or Balinese (my personal favorite)? ;) They’re all different.
Here’s the Feminist Mormon Housewive’s discussion on Romney’s speech. http://www.feministmormonhousewives.org/?p=1500
Personally, I find it a lot more interesting than the Times and Seasons discussion, if only because it’s shorter and contains more dissent. You gotta love us rebellious Mormon women!
Rob -
I believe it’s silly, but it does exist. The suggestion a few years back by some professional victims that churches remove all exterior crosses and any mention of the words “God,” “Jesus,” “Holy Spirit,” etc. as offensive and threatening and racist and sexist comes to mind.
At least so far, that claptrap doesn’t get too far in an organized way. But there have been school boards that have prohibited students from reading Bibles on their own time, talking about God with friends, etc.
Care to give some citations to public-record examples?
Gonz is a good example of the sort of person I worry about having a schizophrenic break someday and killing someone. They’ll do anything God tells them to do.
But no, we leftists don’t make up vicious lies about someone for an attack since we haven’t got anything else.
Once you start talking about someone making truth (which not all theists believe), it seems like your truth becomes a lot more conditional, contingent and arbitrary than that of most atheists.
If I say “murder is wrong” it must be true always, or it is a false statement.
Now is the point where I announce that we’re having thread drift, and returning to the topic at hand — Romney’s speech — is necessary. The relative merits of theism and atheism are not the subject here; the role each plays in the public square is.
NBarnes, I can only assume you don’t know anyone affected by schizophrenia if you think it’s funny to sling the term around just because you disagree with Gonz.
If I say “murder is wrong” it must be true always, or it is a false statement.
On the other hand, if I say “murder is wrong”, it must always be true in all possible worlds, or it is a false statement. Your statement only applies to the contingent world in which God made murder wrong. (And I’m not generalizing to all theists here–most of whom I think would claim that God affirmed rather than invented murder’s wrongness.)
I think if Romney had said “Religion requires Freedom and Freedom requires Transcendence”, it would have been more defensible.
most of whom I think would claim that God affirmed rather than invented murder’s wrongness.
I would say they would be in error.