Beth’s recent blog inspired me to offer a few thoughts of my own on the connection between spirituality and politics. Here they are.
These days most of us can see the difference between religion and spirituality. Some of us, like me, believe the two can be distinguished but not completely separated, while others think they are both distinct and separate from one another. That question is for another time. For now it is enough to note that they are not the same thing. I begin in this rather tedious fashion because I need a context in which to say that while I do believe religion has no good place in politics, but rather too often exerts a pernicious influence, spirituality is another matter altogether, and ought properly to guide us as we decide how to vote both on candidates and issues.
The development of my spirituality has led me to see a genuinely tragic component in human nature. On the one hand Shakespeare was right – or rather Hamlet was – we are wonderful creatures, “noble in reason,” “infinite in faculties,” “in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god.” And yet these faculties, reason, admirable form and movement, angelic actions and godlike apprehension do not prevent from acting in the most beastly manner when our fears, ambitions, lusts and so forth evoke our basest natures. We can see the good, we really can, but we can’t quite bring it about. This is so, not because we are inherently evil, awful creatures, but because we are so mixed, so tragic. If we were truly awful we would feel no internal conflict whatsoever, but the fact that we can see a better self than we are, both individually and corporately, demonstrates that we are not just awful, but rather have this tragic dimension to us which leads us close to true greatness, true beauty but then causes us to self destruct. I got this view not just from reading Sophocles, or Shakespeare; I got it first from the Book of Common Prayer.
So, this sense I have of humanity is at the very core of my spirituality, and it dictates how I vote just about every time. I don’t trust the broad public to protect minorities, to respect them as we ourselves want to be respected, and so I vote for people who will work hard to protect the rights of minorities. My politics follows my spirituality as I vote for those who will create enforceable protections. I don’t trust “The Market” that idol we have been worshipping the past thirty years, to take care of all Americans. Therefore I vote for people who believe in regulating the Market, in enforcing discipline on it so that its worst excesses can be moderated. Again, my politics follows my spirituality. I do believe that peace through justice is a more durable foundation for social stability than peace through conquest, and so I vote for people who are very reluctant to use our armed forces, and who believe that cooperation with others is better than co-opting them. Yet again, my politics follows my spirituality.
My spirituality never tells me to vote for “The Christian.” On the contrary, when I see people running as “Christians” I generally run the other way. My spirituality does tell me that people need restraint, that power needs to be divided and shared. I suppose that if my spirituality assured me that people could always be trusted, that they were inherently good, I might well happily vote for the most libertarian types all the time. But my spirituality doesn’t tell me that. I look at the world through a different spiritual lens than that, and because of that lens I tend to vote for the people who believe in oversight, restraint and accountability.
Whether we are “religious” or not, all of us have values and convictions about the world that emerge from our spiritual perspective. Those values influence us in pretty deep and profound ways. When it comes to voting I think they ought to influence us. Look what happened when America ignored its spiritual heritage, forgot the legacy of Lincoln and his second Inagural address with its powerful spirituality, and voted for the guy they would most like to have a beer with. Twice. Let us get away from elections influenced by trite relationships and facile sloganeering, and get back to elections influenced by genuine spirituality. We will all be better off for it.
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Bill–
I wish you’d tell us what you really mean and quit beating around the ‘Bush’.
Thanks for this great post–very clear and helpful on the relationship between these 2 uneasy bedfellows.
Beth
Dear Bill,
Never have we needed to hear your very succinct and yet diplomatic response to an election that reflects what we as a nation and a people have become – sheep with blinders on. Like you we believe that spirituality and choices in government connect the dots for a better world and that the world of dominion versus earth community is no longer a vehicle for the democratic practice. Like you, we run from those who claim to be Christians because so many post-Jesus groups have created a new identity for this ancient man, named Jesus, Son of God, for the purpose of their own sets of ideals and are able to manipulate the masses into believing these false notions. Our present administration demonstrates this. Thank you for this write up and though we have fallen from the flock, we still walk on the path of justice and social improvement.
Sincerely,
Elizabeth and Sarah Perle
Here’s an excellent podcast on the topic: A Conservative and a Progressive talk about Religion and the Ballot Box
http://interfaithradio.org/node/645
Bill Ellis’ little essay on politics and spirituality arrives–for the most part–at good conclusions; i.e., that human striving, however well intended, must be tempered by regulations, laws, checks and balances meant to reign in an overweening human fallibility. The ruinous buccaneering of Wall Street and Greenspan’s recantation for being one who recommended this disastrous laissez faire financial system serves as a recent example of what can go wrong.
But while Bill’s argument seems to drift in the right direction, I don’t think his logic works as he intends, nor do I find what he says about ‘religion’ or ‘spirituality’ persuasive. He runs behind an indistinct veil regarding these terms, putting their explication off "for another time," yet making strong statements about them as if the reader shares some clarity with him about what they mean. So far as I can tell, his conclusions follow more logically from what he calls his "sense of humanity," using an anthropological premise requiring no reference to ‘spirituality.’ But if we import and clarify ‘religion’ and ‘ spirituality,’ I believe it is possible to enhance his conclusion.
‘Religion’ and ‘spirituality’ are multivalent and shopworn concepts, probably without any essential definition other than gathering a number of notions under family resemblances. But for the sake of conceptual clarity, I suggest the following. It’s a bit stipulative, but, I believe, defensible.
‘Spirituality’ reflects the human condition to live always in the tension between outcomes that are meaningful and meaningless, fruitful and fruitless, praiseworthy and blameworthy. If I break an ankle, that’s a physical issue; if I’m a compulsive shoplifter, that’s a psychological issue, but the possibility that my business venture might succeed or fail, that my efforts at raising my children may turn out well or poorly, that the moral implications of how I use my finances may be found good or bad–these are all spiritual issues, things never entirely in our control. Mother Theresa’s recently disclosed diary reflects the tension between faith and doubt, but these do not gainsay her religion.
Accordingly, ‘religion’ indicates some more-or-less organized set of beliefs used to cope with spiritual issues. On this conception, everyone interested in living is obliged to have at least one religion either intentionally or by default; that is, one can adopt a formal religion which claims to have an ordered way of dealing with spiritual issues, or one can fall into a more informal religion like consumerism, materialism, or even drug addiction, or some combination of the many possibilities that are out there. Obviously some forms of religion (e.g. drug addiction) aren’t adequate toward the realities of life, while others are more adequate. But none can claim a firm lock on truth. In this world "we see through a glass darkly."
Put it this way: a computer is required to meet computational needs, and its software requires an algorithmic platform called a "disk operating system" upon which other programs run. Similarly in life, "spirituality" may be likened to "computational needs," while the "disk operating system" is like a "religious operating system," the platform upon which we project life’s programs.
Thus far I’m in agreement with Bill that ‘spirituality’ and ‘religion’ are not the same thing, since the former is foundational for the latter. I do not agree, however, that "religion has no place in politics," since my argument requires that politicians, like everyone else, must be religious. Since religion is a necessary part of the human fabric, I would hope that religion can, in some cases, have a good place in politics. And here is where I think I can enhance Bill’s conclusions.
The existential tension and uncertainty that pervades spirituality prompts us toward destruction or creativity, toward despair or hope, isolation or openness, retrenchment or risk. The cautionary, prudential counsel Bill gives us is okay, but insufficient for what can arise out of the human spirit and its religious quest. I’m inclined to sift politicians and policies according to what vision they have, how open, creative, and hopeful–even risk-taking–they are to the ever-changing reality that confronts us. Among good outcomes that occur to me are Corey Booker’s resurgence of Newark, and if we have to be in Iraq, then Col. H.R. McMaster’s "clear, hold, and build" policy seems best, and with respect to the chronic homeless, I believe Mel Martinez’s "housing first" is a good policy.
We must test the spirits, but we must also have hope that creativity can sometimes pay off.
Thanks for your comments, Elizabeth and Sarah. Something that has puzzled me for quite a while now is that Jesus himself never seemed to claim that religion was particularly important to God, and in this he echoed both Isaiah and Amos, among others. I dn’t know that the famous story about separating the sheep and the goats actually goes back to Jesus, but if it does it is quite telling. The only criterion offered as the test of whether or not people did the will of God was how they treated the powerless among them. "Whatsoever you did to the least of these my brothers and sisters, that you did unto me." In short, according to the way Jesus is portrayed in scripture, the kinds of things many Christians are so concerned about are entirely irrelevant to relationship with God, and the kinds of things many non-religious people are concerned about get to the very heart of the matter. I remain optimistic that Christianity will figure this out eventually and get back to what matters. In the mean time, thanks for your thoughts; it is good to know that we can move together in this.