Politics and religion.

[rivka]

curiousangel and I spent a lot of time talking about religion during the Cubs game last night, although probably not in the divine-retribution way that most people were.

One of the things that bothers us both about our church is the tendency some members have to blur the distinction between a Unitarian-Universalist church and a Green Party convention. The strongest example of this is the reflexive assumption that everyone in our church opposed the war in Iraq, but there's a whole spectrum of other political stances (disapproval of Israel, for example, and support of gay marriage) that almost assume the role of tenets of our faith. It's a strange position for a non-creedal religion to be in.

So curiousangel and I were discussing where the line should be drawn between politics and religion. I have no problem with the idea that religion informs people's political judgments. Most of my political beliefs are founded upon principles that I consider to be part of my religion: the UU first principle of respect for the inherent worth and dignity of all human beings, for example, and the Christian obligation to protect the weak and provide for the needy. Religions provide people with principles for how they should behave in the world, and as such, they affect political opinions.

The problem, to me, comes when you assume that there is a unitary relationship between a set of religious values and a set of political positions. My personal interpretation of affirming "the inherent worth and dignity of all human beings" leads me to be pro-choice, but it may equally lead another UU to be pro-life. The second principle's call for "justice, equity, and compassion in human relations" may lead some to be pacifists, and others to see the necessity for certain just wars.

That's not to say that the seven principles can be twisted to support any political position, or that there can be no religious debate about political issues. But just as I think it's ludicrous to claim that God self-evidently objects to loving queer relationships, I think it's ludicrous to assume that God - or liberal religious spirit - must self-evidently be on the side of Palestinian suicide bombers. And I think we'd have a better church if people were a little more ready to apply our UU tolerance of diverse religious perspectives to diverse political perspectives.

Comments

[curiousangel.livejournal.com]

I've had some experience with bringing up challenges to the commonly accepted "wisdom", and the reaction I typically get isn't exactly negative, it's just... mystified. I get the impression that most of the people are willing to listen to other points of view (although those seem curiously unfamiliar to them), but there are a few people who are downright pigheaded about it.

For example... last year there was an evening session called by one of our ministers to discuss the Israel/Palestine situation. I decided that I needed to go in order that a pro-Israel position would be represented, and I was very afraid of being the one and only voice on that side. Still, it needed doing, so away I went.

Turned out that a grand total of four people turned up -- myself, the minister who called the meeting, one pleasant (albeit pretty clueless) guy, and one "peace issues" activist. I'd had run-ins with the activist before, and I gritted my teeth when she walked in the door. We began the discussion, and it quickly became obvious that nobody else in the room knew much about the history of the region -- when I mentioned the Balfour Declaration, I got some blank looks, and not much else. How can you consider yourself informed on this without knowing anything about the Balfour Declaration?

The activist wanted to argue about "anti-Semitic" being meaningless (since Arabs are Semites, too), and she was certain that the British had claimed the original Mandate teritory after WW1 in order to lay claim to oil resources. When it was pointed out to her that the Mandate had no oil, and that oil in Arabia wasn't even discovered until years later, she simply asserted her claim more firmly. I shrugged, figuring she shot down her own case more than I ever could, and the discussion went on. We talked about the establishment of the State of Israel, and how there was injustice aplenty on every side, and how the situation had progressed over the years. The activist kept getting more and more visibly annoyed, and finally burst out with, "It's too late for them to get a country! It's terrible that the Holocaust happened, but that's just too bad, and they can't have a state!"

By this time, it had gotten late, and there was obviously not much else to say, so we concluded the discussion. I followed up with later email to the minister, she gave a sermon a few weeks later on the subject, and we heard very little else about it afterwards. The activist went on to be a "human shield" in Baghdad in January and February. (A few weeks ago she was in church, and I hoped her head would explode when we sang the "When tyrants tremble..." verse of "How Can I Keep From Singing?", but it didn't happen.)

In February the Social Action Committee brought forth a resolution to the church's Board of Trustees (which includes me) condemning the looming war in Iraq, and asking the Board to endorse the resolution in the name of the church. I hadn't discussed my stance on the war with anyone there, but I couldn't let this go by. I denounced the resolution, not only because I personally disagreed with it, but because I refused to issue a proclamation on an issue in the name of the church collectively that I had not confirmed to be held by the entire church. I was fine with the idea that individual members could speak up however they saw fit, but the resolution certainly didn't speak for me, and I didn't want it going out in any fashion that others might associate with me.

On those grounds, the resolution was defeated, and several other members of the Board commented to me that it took serious guts to come out so prominently against the accepted "wisdom" on such an issue. I told them I felt it was something that I didn't have any choice about. On important matters, my respect for the democratic tradition demands that I say my piece (and listen to others say theirs) even if I'm sure nobody else agrees with me.

[hobbitbabe.livejournal.com]

On important matters, my respect for the democratic tradition demands that I say my piece (and listen to others say theirs) even if I'm sure nobody else agrees with me.


Swoon.