I'll never understand "faith", as it's traditionally defined. I've felt awe as I've taken in a natural panorama and wonder as I've watched a cell divide, but I can't say that I've ever known faith. I can't think of a time in my life where I've yearned for its comforts, either. I am an atheist. I don't apologize for it. It's what I am, and I'm not likely to change anytime soon. I can only hope that society can deal with it, and that my chosen political party can make room for people like me. Of course, that's more likely than if I had chosen another affiliation.
Tim Kaine's a prominent Democrat who
talks about his faith. That candor has been credited with earning him votes enough to win a hotly-contested race. It's an odd thing to say, since faith's a very personal thing and his leanings are none of my business, but I have mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, he may be very sincere. Honestly, I'm fine with that - I can accept and trust what I don't comprehend, and I hope that he's a principled-enough guy not to abuse that trust should our paths ever cross. It bothers me that such a personal issue even has to come up in the course of a campaign, but if opening up that window on his beliefs makes a potentially like-minded constituency accept him as their own, I'm cool with that. My progressive center tells me that I can coexist with those people and all will be well.
On the other, though, it's got me thinking: Is it as simple as that? Does winning in the God-fearing South require that oath of faith, be it genuine or delivered with a cynical wink? That progressive center also harbors nagging doubt about the possibility for coexistence, specifically with Christians. It's not going to go away, either, because of these personal observations:
- Religion, no matter how large and how well-organized, suffers from persecution complexes. Because of historical precedent and understanding of human nature's baser impulses, there will never be enough freedom nor enough state protection to ease the paranoia of the faithful, to allow them to let down their guard and just be.
- Because of the above, comingled with scriptural directives to proseletyze, convert and multiply, the faithful (at least in this country) often take up a "the best defense is a good offense" posture.
- The increase in political power of the religious Right over the last half-century leads me to believe that a large number of American Christians are susceptible to the rhetoric of a small minority who would exploit the first two points for that minority's gain.
With that said, what's a good progressive to do? I personally accept and include those with whom I disagree, but how can I accept those who refuse to do the same? Of course it makes sense that your average voter would feel more comfortable voting for a candidate who was giving off soothing and attractive political pheromones (never mind that Kaine, a Catholic, improbably won in a den of born-agains):
"People want to understand your character and your values," [Kaine] said last week. "It's about taking a public that is skeptical about politicians and telling them that you have a moral yardstick. Politicians will tell you they're married and they like baseball games and barbecue and jazz music. If I'll tell somebody that, why would I not tell people what's most important to me?"
A heart-felt statement, I'm sure, but the implications bother me. When "faith" becomes shorthand for "character", "morality" and "values" for a large part of the public, what's left for the godless? If I have faith in anything, it is that we must not stand for this marginalization, this denial of our claim to these principles. We can not allow an extremist minority to dictate our national faith. That faith lies in character, morality and values - God or no.