Faint not, gentle reader. I have come to two conclusions after reading the latest edition of America, a New York-based magazine that styles itself as "the national Catholic weekly", the current edition of which looks at God and US politics.
The first conclusion is that it is possible to have too much religion, especially in politics. The second is that I agree with Hillary Clinton on something. At least I did, until she changed her mind. Hillary professed herself to be a person of faith, but uneasy about those who shout about it too much. "I keep thinking of the Pharisees." That was a good line to hold, Hillary.
Shame that Barack Obama, with his wildly successful "faith tours" of Iowa churches forced her into her own "faith tours" in South Carolina. Barack has been particularly successful in wooing religious African- Americans, a key demographic that helped to elect and re-elect Bill Clinton. So Hillary forgot about the Pharisees and climbed into the pulpit.
It seems distinctly odd now that Jimmy Carter's fervent religious faith was positively an embarrassment. The American nation collectively put their heads in their hands and groaned when he used the highly biblical language of "lusting after women in his heart". But even ole Bill was prone to playing the religious card, although his lusting was a little less theoretical. After the Lewinsky episode, he had no less than four ministers of religion as counsellors to keep him on the straight and narrow. All you could say to that would be, lotsa luck, boys.
The one who really put the tin hat on it, though, was Dubya. While the rest of the world cowered in terror at the prospect of a US president on a mission from God, the American voters lapped it up - twice. Conservative evangelical voters trusted Dubya, and they still do, although in decreasing numbers. It is perhaps a sign of changing times that Republican libertarian congressman Ron Paul was greeted with applause for this assertion at a Republican presidential debate.
"I believe that there is a Christian doctrine of just war. And I strongly believe that this nation has drifted from that and I see that being, in many ways, unchristian.What we do in the name of Christianity I think is very dangerous and not part of what Christianity is about." This Baptist who represents Texas was calling George Bush's policy of pre-emptive war unchristian, a stance that one would have thought more in tune with the late Pope John Paul than the average Republican.
There are a couple of Catholic candidates, with the best known being Rudy Giuliani, famous for endorsing policies that are not only at odds with his church but also with the majority of the Republican Party. Rudy is a determined secularist, and that along with his own colourful private life is seen as being a handicap in the Republican Party. It is no longer the 1980s, when the Moral Majority called the shots to a large degree in the Republican Party, but they haven't gone away, you know.
Republican candidate governor Mitt Romney knows that his Mormon faith is seen as a disadvantage, so earlier this month during a campaign speech, he made the extraordinary statement, extraordinary, that is, on this side of the Atlantic, that he believed that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and the Saviour of mankind. He also made several other points, including "a person should not be elected because of his faith, nor rejected because of his faith".
True, but former Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee has become a candidate to watch, running on a "Christian leader" platform. A Baptist minister, Huckabee does not entirely fit the mould. Unless the mould happens to be that perceptively captured by Rod Dreher, in his book Crunchy Cons. While espousing family values, Huckabee also claims to want to end the scandal of unequal division of wealth and to take positive and immediate action on climate change. Basically, crunchy cons are conservatives with a social conscience and an urgent desire to preserve this fragile blue and green planet.
Even Huckabee fudged, though, when asked whether he believed in evolution. (Interesting way of putting the question, as though it were an article of faith rather than the most convincing and important scientific model that we have to date.) Huckabee swallowed hard, and took refuge in the line that it was irrelevant what he thought, and odd that the question should be asked of a presidential candidate.
In a later debate, he appeared to imply that he did not believe in evolution, but added this nuance: "I believe whether God did it in six days or in six days that represented periods of time that he did it, and that's what's important." One would think, given the urgent desire of presidential candidates to appeal to religious voters, that there were no liberal religious people, much less atheists or humanists in the US. That is where Obama manages the most agile tightrope walk of all. He declares himself proud of his Christian faith, and that people of this background should not be prohibited from debating in the public square. At the same time he declares that those in public life have an obligation to translate religious values into terms that all people can share, "including those who are not believers".
In other words, believers must argue in the public square on the same grounds as everyone else if they are to persuade, that is, reason and good sense in terms of public policy, and not any particular appeal to theology. At one and the same time, he manages to appeal to moderate religious voters and mollify the secularists.
His position, minus the canvassing in churches, would seem perfectly pitched for Irish politicians. Except that in Ireland there is a positive embarrassment about speaking of religion at all, except in predictable terms of blaming the Catholic Church for all the ills of centuries past. There are notable exceptions, of course, not least our President, who manage to show that there is a happy medium between the excessive religiosity well-nigh forced on the US politician, and the urgent Irish desire to hide any religious light under the largest nearby bushel.