Creating Value and Wanting Values

Sermon by Stephen D. Edington, January 9, 2000

Seeing as how we are nine days into the year 2000 with no cataclysms or catastrophes having overtaken us, and with the expression "Y2K" already taking on relic status, it looks like we are going to have to keep on dealing with much of the same stuff as we always have, including political campaigns. Before moving to New Hampshire I was among those who complained, and even felt a little disenfranchised, at how this little state up in New England, with such an homogenous population as compared to the rest of the country, got to play such a disproportionate role in choosing presidential nominees. Having now lived in this little state up in New England for well over a decade, and witnessing now my third presidential primary here, I've altered my thinking on that somewhat. I'm still aware that the importance of our primary is driven only by its date. If it were held even a month later than it is we'd be barely even noticed on the national political scene. But given the position that we are in, I think the citizens of this state should take seriously the opportunity we have to not only have a strong and, yes, disproportionate, voice in who the presidential nominees will be, but to frame some of the issues they need to be addressing.

(I must insert a parenthetical remark about timing right here. No more than five minutes after I'd written these opening sentences I got a call from a pollster asking who I'd be voting for on Primary Day. As I say, we have a voice. While I'm in parenthetical mode here, I'll also issue the following disclaimer: Nothing that is said in the sermon shall be taken as either an endorsement, or as a disparagement, of any candidate for the Office of President of the United States.)

Having dispensed with that, I'd like to read a few selections from an editorial column written last summer by E.J. Dionne of the Washington Post. The nub of his piece was about an uneasiness he sensed on the part of many Americans of "a disconnect between the production of economic value and the production of good values." This is part of what he said: "Here's one large trend in America, the one you hear about everyday: the popularity of e-trading, the rise of the day trader, the excitement over new 'dot-com' stock issues, the relentless pressure to get rich." Time Magazine, in fact, sanctified this trend just a few weeks ago by naming Steven Bezos, the founder of Amazon.com, as their "Person of the Year."

Back to Mr. Dionne from his piece last summer: "Here's the other trend, spoken more in kitchens and over back fences than in news broadcasts: Across ideological lines, there is a quiet revolt against materialism embodied in the question, 'Is this all there is?' Its not a revolt against capitalism or ambition. (Instead) it reflects a concern that the marketplace, for all its splendors, may produce value but not values. You can see this in the thoughts offered by politicians of both parties ... and in the growing public presence of religion." Dionne concluded: "This is not about ideology. Conservatives and liberals alike worry about popular culture's treatment of violence and sex. Conservatives and liberals alike--often using similar language inspired by religious faith--are proclaiming our obligations to the suffering. A new wind is blowing, and it can't be traded on the Web."

I can't decide how much of this writer's optimism I share about a "new wind blowing" of such an altruistic nature, but I was quite taken by his piece. Politically speaking, Mr. Dionne represents a centrist to liberal voice in his editorial opinions, which generally reflects the overall bent of the Washington Post itself. I find it of interest that he writes approvingly of "the growing public presence of religion" and of "conservatives and liberals alike often using similar language inspired by religious faith." With the resurgence of the religious right, beginning in the late 1970s, the near automatic response of secular minded liberals to religious sentiments being expressed in the political arena has been either to decry it or question its appropriateness.

A few months after this column was written an event, or series of events, in the Presidential campaign took place that caused me to recall it. Somewhere around late November and into early December the campaign went into a phase where practically every candidate in both parties seemed to feel compelled to lay out his religious credentials in offering himself for our nation's highest office. It started when Governor Bush of Texas was asked to name the philosopher or thinker who had influenced him the most. His answer was "Jesus Christ, because he changed my heart." For what its worth, I would not call the Jesus of the New Testament gospels a philosopher. He's portrayed as an itinerant teacher and preacher of a liberalized form of Judaism more than anything else, but never mind that. In a Presidential debate none of his opponents is going to challenge a statement like the one the Governor made. To the contrary, Mr. Bush's avowal of faith seemed to be the signal for all the other candidates to chime in with their own professions of faith.This led to the Boston Globe, in late December, running a feature article on the various religious testimonials being offered by the candidates with the title "No Shying Away from God Talk in Campaign."

The gist of the article, which I will not get into in any great length, was how each of the candidates--either in public statements, interviews, or books they've written--speak quite explicitly of their personal journeys of faith. John McCain writes in his book Faith of My Fathers of how he found God's love while in the Vietnamese POW camp. Vice President Gore spoke of coming to a "transformational relationship with God" during his junior year at Harvard; and of how he spent a year at the Vanderbuilt Divinity School upon his return from Vietnam because he felt the need for some spiritual soul searching after his war experience. Candidates Bauer, Forbes, Keyes and Hatch in various Iowa debates have stated how they will make Christian values central to their policy agendas. Senator Bradley is the candidate who prefers to keep his religious sentiments most private while campaigning, although he does write about his "personal experience with Jesus," as he calls it, in his book Time Present, Time Past.

My first response to such an outpouring of God talk by those seeking the Presidency was to see a red flag. It looked and sounded to me like a de-facto "religious test" for holding public office, which the Constitution directly forbids. I know that the "religious test" clause in the Constitution actually forbids legally requiring that a person adhere to a particular religious belief in order to hold public office, and, to be sure, that is not what is going on here. But by de facto religious test I mean the implication that unless a candidate can offer certain religious credentials when it comes to seeking public office, then he or she is somehow not fit or qualified to be elected.

Upon further review--as a football referee might say--I haven't completely put my red flag away on this religious test matter, but I have lowered it several notches. I remain concerned that in a religiously pluralistic society a profession of some form of the Christian faith seems to be an implied requirement for being President. In last Thursday's (1/6/00) debate over in Durham, NH, NBC's Tim Russert raised this issue with Governor Bush. Mr. Russert noted that there are 15 million atheists, five million Muslims, and millions more Buddhists and Hindus who are citizens of this country. Should they feel excluded from, or offended by, the Governor for his remarks about his allegiance to Jesus Christ. Mr. Bush's reply was, "No. I was asked what influenced my life and I gave (my) answer... it doesn't make me better than anyone else, but its a foundation for how I live my life." O.K. I can accept that. I don't believe that the establishment of a Christian theocracy is part of the Governor's agenda. But I'm still left with this question: Even with religious tests for public office forbidden, could someone from a faith tradition other than Christianity could ever be a viable Presidential candidate in this country? (My short answer is probably not at this time, but hopefully at some point in the not-too-distant future.)

But when Governor Bush referred to "the foundation for how I live my life" he was, wittingly or not, making a very good point about what I feel can and should be legitimately asked and known of a Presidential candidate. It is this: What is it that ultimately grounds you--be it a religious, philosophical, or moral and ethical stance, or some combination of these? What kinds of inner resources do you draw upon once you've gathered your information, consulted your advisors, and weighed your options. What inner resources do you turn to in making hard decisions and setting your course of leadership?

This is the point that Dr. Weldon Gaddy, the Director of the Interfaith Alliance made in the Globe article I referred to. The Interfaith Alliance, as many of you know, is a coalition of religious bodies, including mainline Christian, Jewish and Muslim organizations that was originally formed as a counterweight to the Christian Coalition. Rev. Gaddy makes the point, which I agree, that as long as a candidate's religion does not become the primary qualification for the Presidency, then it is healthy for candidates to make it part of their profile. I believe this is one more way of letting the electorate know what makes them tick.

On this note let me go back to where I started, and pick up again on Mr. Dionne's sensing that there is a "revolt" now going on with respect to the production of value, but not values; and that a new wind of a yearning for values is blowing. He sees the growing public presence of religion, and the use of religious language in the public arena as an indication of this new wind. Dionne's sense, or hope, is that religion can play a constructive role in providing a social conscience and a commitment to the public, common good. His sentiments are quite reminiscent actually of what the French philosopher and political theorist, Alexis deTocqueville noted when he visited this country some 170 years ago in the early stages of its life. (Some of you have heard me go this route with deTocqueville before, and if so, I ask you indulgence for the next couple of minutes).

In his book Democracy in America in which deTocqueville chronicled his observations of America in the 1830s, he wrote: "The religious atmosphere of the country was the first thing that struck me on arrival in the United States. The longer I stayed in the country the more conscious I became of ... this novel situation." It was a "novel situation" to deTocqueville in that religion was not near as pervasive in the European countries of his time. DeTocqueville saw this "religious atmosphere" in the United States in a largely positive light. In his view religion provided a necessary check and balance against the excesses of materialism, which he saw as a danger in a democratic state. Without some level of spiritual consciousness within the population, he reasoned, democratic capitalism would become nothing more that a competitive quest for individual material gain, with no unifying or higher concept of the common good. It was this unifying concept of the common good that deTocqueville felt religion should provide. He used the terms "Christianity" and "religion" interchangeably in his writings since in the 1830's Christianity was the prevailing religion in the United States. Quoting him once more: Democracy favors the taste for physical pleasures ... thus, when any religion (emphasis added) has taken deep root in a democracy, be careful not to shake it."

Drawing on deTocqueville's words from nearly two centuries ago, and E.J. Dionne's observations of just a few months ago, a very timely question to ask the candidates for the Presidency is not "Who's your favorite philosopher?" (Jesus or otherwise), or "What are your particular religious beliefs?" (important as they are to the one holding them), but this instead: How do your religious beliefs, or the ground of your spirituality, inform your concept and vision of the Common Good for this country in the year 2000? This is the question I'd rather hear seriously addressed than hearing some well chosen one-liners offered up as a way of shoring up a candidate's religious credentials.

In fact, I'd like to see the question just cited expanded to include: How does your religion--whatever it may be--accord you a unifying vision for this country at a time when wealth is being generated almost as never before, but while an underclass continues to proliferate, and those at the lower end of the middle class still struggle? What is your religiously informed vision of the Common Good when a New York Times story at the end of last summer opens with these words: "At rural school houses and sprawling urban campuses across the country millions of students returning to classes next week will encounter an array of security measures ... cameras are being installed as hallway monitors and (some) students will have to swipe a computerized ID card just to get in the door."? When the proliferation of guns and other such weaponry is generating this kind of fear and uncertainty what do you see as the glue that can keep us together? What is your religiously informed vision of the Common Good when hate crimes persist, when the vestiges of personal racism continue to haunt us and the realities of systemic racism continue to challenge us?

I do not expect the next President of the United States, whoever he may be; or any future President of the United States, whoever she or he may be, to resolve all these matters single-handedly. I know that much of a President's time and duties are devoted to the near overwhelming tasks running the government and tending to our international relations. But to the extent that we expect and need our President to be a cultivator of a social conscience in and amongst us, and one who can provide us with some unifying vision of how we may yet still be a great nation, then questions like the ones I've just cited are, I feel, relevant. I'm also trying to say with all this, that if the candidates' religion is going to be a factor in the Presidential campaign, then let it be a factor in a way that addresses questions and concerns such as these.

The tone of at least some of the speeches made in this campaign suggest that some of the candidates are aware of this disconnect Dionne cites between value and values. I'm relying, once more, on his column for these two examples. First from a speech by Governor Bush several months ago: "We are a nation of rugged individuals, but we are also the country of the second chance--tied together by bonds of friendship and community and solidarity... There must be a kindness in our judgement... There must be a love behind our zeal." Around the same time Governor Bush was making these remarks Vice President Gore held forth in this manner: "It is hard to be a strong family in a weak community--one that is overrun by crime and drugs; one with failing schools and not enough jobs ... A good community is a place where, whether you are affluent or struggling, neighbors know each other's names and look after one another's children."

It is easy enough to dismiss the words of both of these gentlemen as ones offered for the sake of political expediency, of saying what sounds nice to hear. It wouldn't be all that hard either to find policies and pieces of legislation that both the Governor and the Vice President have advocated that would tend to belie these noble sounding words from each of their mouths. But it would also be short sighted, I feel, to appraise what's being said here solely through the eyes and ears of cynicism. Maybe they are also reading certain signs of the times. Maybe they are sensing a weariness, a weariness that goes across the political spectrum, with the pursuit of profit for its own sake, a weariness with the cheapening and the trivialization of sex by the popular entertainment media, a weariness with the glamorization of violence in pop culture, a weariness with mindless prejudice and blaming. If those seeking to lead us wish to speak about the well springs of their faith, then let them do so in ways that point us beyond such weariness.

Several years ago, a writer for New Republic Magazine, John Judis, wrote a critique of the religious right at a time when it had more visibility, and perhaps even more power, than it currently does. In noting that the founders of this nation, and the authors of the Constitution, were in their own way quite strong religious individuals, Mr. Judis went onto say, "What Thomas Jefferson and James Madison understood ... is that Christianity does not provide a political agenda, but rather an underlying social conscience with which to approach politics." The same holds true for any other religion in a free and democratic state. At its best it can provide the social conscience that is needed to build, cultivate, nurture, and on occasion, heal the soul of a nation.

Well, three weeks from this Tuesday the candidates will, one and all, leave; and so will the correspondents, and the camera crews, and all those trucks with the protruding antennae. We will again have had our once-every-four-year day in the sun. Our primary will be finished, but the unfinished business of our country will remain; and our calling to seek for, and advocate, "justice, equity, and compassion in human relations" will continue to challenge us in the days and years ahead.

Copyright © 2000 by the Unitarian-Universalist Church of Nashua NH. All rights reserved.