They're the furious faithful -- the growing number
of religious liberals incensed by the political influence of
Christian conservatives. Last week another organization joined
their ranks with promises to "reclaim Christianity" and challenge
the association of vital religion with conservative politics.
As far as Patrick Mrotek, founder of the Christian Alliance for
Progress, is concerned, the gloves are off: "We can no longer stand
by," he announced at a Washington press conference, "and watch
people speak hatred, division, war and greed in the name of our
faith."
With a membership of perhaps 6,000, the Christian Alliance for
Progress qualifies as the organizational equivalent of a megachurch
-- but not much more. Nevertheless, its policy goals are ambitious,
ranging from debt forgiveness to universal health care. It proffers
an agenda "founded firmly on the teachings of the Gospel." Some
students of the Gospel may be surprised at how neatly such an
agenda fits the Democratic Party platform: The alliance supports
stem-cell research, gay marriage and abortion; it opposes the Bush
tax cuts, plans to privatize Social Security and the war in
Iraq.
Every few years, it seems, another progressive group arises to
contend with the political clout of Christian conservatives. The
list includes the Interfaith Alliance, Call to Renewal, Soulforce,
Let Justice Roll (run by the National Council of Churches), the
Clergy Leadership Network, Faith Voices for the Common Good and the
Network of Spiritual Progressives.
Most religious progressives, whatever their doctrinal differences,
believe that the Democratic Party must attach spiritual values to
its political agenda. Democratic leaders seem ready to heed the
call.
Last summer the Center for American Progress, headed by John
Podesta, President Clinton's former chief of staff, gathered 400
clergy and scholars at a "faith and policy" conference in
Washington. Then came George Bush's re-election, made possible by
church-going voters, and suddenly the "faith factor" gained new
cachet among Democrats. Earlier this year, for example, Hillary
Clinton told supporters in Albany that "religious and moral values"
could help discourage teenage sex. In March, House Democratic
leader Nancy Pelosi formed a working group to design a "faith
agenda" for her party.
"If the last election proved anything," notes a recent issue of the
Economist, "it was that middle America found an overtly religious
party much less weird than an overtly secular one." Religious
progressives would agree. Yet despite their feeling comfortable
with God talk, they share certain traits that may limit their
appeal to other people of faith.
First, they're composed mostly of mainline clergy and church elites
who are often culturally out of step with the rank and file.
They're leaders with no obvious grass-roots constituency. Second,
they treat traditional religion with either suspicion or outright
contempt. Believers who raise concerns about complex social matters
-- such as embryonic cloning or the role of condoms in fighting
AIDS -- are dismissed as crazed theocrats. Third, religious
progressives are often allied with left-wing partisans such as
financier George Soros, MoveOn.org and Pax Christi, all of which
loathe the Christian Right as much as radical Islam.
A final weakness of Christian progressives is one shared by some
Christian conservatives: the impulse to leap directly from the
Bible to contemporary politics. Few are as blatant as Jim Wallis,
founder of Sojourners magazine and a darling of Democratic leaders.
In his best-selling book "God's Politics," Mr. Wallis discerns from
a short passage in Isaiah a blueprint for government welfare
spending. "The starting point to check how our society measures up
to Isaiah's platform," Mr. Wallis writes, "is by examining our
federal budget." Or, as the Christian Alliance for Progress argues,
rather confusedly: "In his sermons and in his parables, Jesus
teaches that poverty can certainly be an effective weapon of mass
destruction."
Their Web sites are awash with this kind of talk. In all of it,
there is little room for political philosophy, or civil society, or
even an appreciation of the different roles of church and state.
Whatever the argument -- whether it's a big government approach to
poverty or a pacifist stance on terrorism -- Bible verses are at
the ready.
Call it fundamentalism from the left. If religious progressives
help the Democratic Party to "find religion," we're going to see a
lot more of it. Heaven help us.
Mr. Loconte is a
research fellow in religion at the Heritage Foundation and
editor of "The End of Illusions: Religious Leaders Confront
Hitler's Gathering Storm" (Rowman & Littlefield). He served as
a member of the Congressional Task Force on the United
Nations.
First appeared in The Wall Street Journal