Freedom of religion is one of the tenets of American society, the right clearly stated in the First Amendment to the Constitution: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.” I believe, however, that freedom from religion is just as important, the freedom to be left alone by proponents of religion. It is a freedom that is widely ignored.
The phrasing of the First Amendment sounds noble and seems to offer what Jefferson described in his famous metaphor, “a wall of separation between Church & State.” That is hardly the case, however. The First Amendment doesn’t say anything about separating church and state. It says merely that there can’t be any laws establishing religion or prohibiting the freedom of religion. In other words, the intention of the First Amendment was to protect the church from the state and not vice versa. Further, I think it is just as important to protect the state from being influenced by the church—and also to protect people from religious proponents, whether those proponents are individuals, private organizations, or government officials pushing some version of theology.
The influence of religion on politics in this country is insidious and damaging, much like radiation escaping from a damaged nuclear reactor. Religious proponents whine about anti-religious bias, particularly anti-Christian bias, by the government. The opposite is often true: states are increasingly passing laws which supposedly promote religious freedom but whose real purpose is to inject religion into public life, for example advocating posting the Ten Commandments in public places or mandating Bible readings in public schools, as is happening in Texas.
Many “conservative” politicians and religious leaders claim that the United States is a Christian country. Certainly, a large percentage of the population identifies as Christian to some degree, yet there is no mention of Jesus in either the Declaration of Independence or the Constitution. Interestingly, the Treaty of Tripoli, written and passed by Congress and signed into law in 1797 states “…the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion….” That date is notable because it was only nine years after the Constitution was established and only eight years after the Bill of Rights was added to it. Politicians and government leaders of the nation at that time certainly had clear, first-hand knowledge of the religious nature of the country and of the government.
Although the Federal government can’t form a church or outlaw religion, it does much to promote it.
- The Pledge of Allegiance includes the phrase “under God.” Those words were only added in 1954 as part of the silly anti-Communist hysteria that was epidemic at that time (the same madness that brought the McCarthy hearings and the loyalty oath). Why do we have to pledge allegiance to a nation “under God”? What does God have to do with loyalty to country? By the way, I am a patriotic American who served as an officer in the Army Reserve, which is more than draft-dodging Donald Trump did.
- “In God We Trust” is inscribed on our coins and currency.
- Prayers before events are common, and presidential administrations often participate in events like the National Day of Prayer
- Elected officials take an oath of office swearing their fealty before God. As an aside, in politics in this country, there is great religious discrimination against non-believers—freethinkers, agnostics, and atheists. A Mormon ran for president as a Republican and a Jew for Vice President as a Democrat. We’ve had a Quaker, two Catholics, and several Baptists as president. In contrast, almost no national politician and damned few on local level will even admit to being a free thinker or non-believer, although it is quite likely that there are and have been many.
- Our taxes pay for chaplains in the Congress and in more than half of the state legislatures. If we want to cut government waste, firing them would be a good start.
- Churches get a double tax break because those who donate to them can deduct their donations, while the institutions themselves don’t pay any tax on offerings, tithes, or donations. Nor in most cases do they pay property tax. Moreover, unlike other non-profits, churches are not required to file Form 990, informational tax returns. They only have to pay taxes on payroll for their employees and for any commercial enterprise in which they engage.
- In Arizona and in other states, public money can be used by parents to cover tuition costs of sending their children to parochial schools.
I am not opposed to the practice of religion by individuals in their homes and places of worship, nor am I opposed to those who minister to the poor, the incarcerated, the sick and the dying as a tenet of their faith. In particular, I have deep esteem for the Quakers, the Society of Friends, for the quiet, respectful, and forthright way they bear witness to their beliefs by working with the outcast and oppressed. For several years I volunteered with the American Friends Service Committee, supporting the Quakers in their criminal justice and anti-death penalty work
While I respect other people’s beliefs, I want the freedom from having their beliefs foisted on me. I simply want the right to be left alone. I consider myself a free thinker. I prefer that term to atheist, agnostic, or reference to any religious sect. The reason is simply that I don’t think there is any way to know whether God exists, much less to arrogantly proclaim the supposed truth about a particular God. Earlier in my life, I considered several sects, mostly Christian, but every religious coat I tried on was so tight that the seams split. In addition to “freethinker,” I like the term “apatheist,” which an acquaintance of mine uses to describe his religious orientation. It is a portmanteau, combining the words apathy and theist. He says he likes that term because, “I just don’t care one way or another.”
If I were to select a religion, however, the polytheism of the Ancient Greeks has some appeal. I like the idea of a bunch of gods cavorting, fighting, and having sex with one another and with humans. It is certainly a more interesting faith than that of the somber, vengeful, Hebraic god who smites, takes revenge, and allows bad things to happen to innocent people despite which believers put bumper stickers on their cars saying that “He” loves them—and the rest of us. No thanks, I’ll pass.
Even though I am a free thinker, I have strong ethical beliefs. For example, I believe in the Golden Rule, the universal tenet to treat others the way we want to be treated. Further, I believe we have a duty to help people in need. I believe we have an obligation to our children, their children, and all who come after us to leave the world better than it was when we inherited it. I believe that we should avoid acquisitiveness and that we should live frugally. Likewise, I think we should avoid the seductions of power and popularity and try to approach life in a modest manner. I believe that our first identity is to the community, to our fellow humans, and that that identity is greater than connections to employer, sect, tribe, etc. I try, with mixed success, to live according to this credo, and I try to manifest my beliefs by my deeds—without feeling a need to bear witness.
Over the years, I have had evangelists come to my door or approach me on the street to tell me about their faith and its precepts and teachings. Back in Oklahoma decades ago, the proselytizers were evangelicals of one flavor or another, often Baptists. Out here in the West, the Baptists with Bibles in hand have been supplanted by young men sporting white shirts, skinny black ties, and nametags with the title Elder. Of course, across the nation, indefatigable Witnesses work neighborhoods in packs or stake out libraries with their folding chairs, magazines, and tracts. While I don’t buy their theology, I admire their grit.
In the past, I often listened briefly to whatever pitch evangelists were spouting, mainly to be polite or for the opportunity to respond and try to sow a few weeds of doubt in the garden of their beliefs. I have come to realize, however, that arguing against a believer’s version of Truth is similar to peeing against a strong north wind in Oklahoma: while doing so might be satisfying, I mainly end up wetting my leg. Nowadays, I just politely tell them I have my religious affairs in order and have no interest in their pitch. At home, as a guard against evangelists as well as their commercial and political ilk, I have a sign next to my front door that reads NO PEDDLERS, SOLICITORS, OR RELIGIOUS PROSELYTIZERS. That usually works when the visitors take the trouble to read the sign. Recently, however, after I pointed the sign out to someone who rang the doorbell, he asked, “What is a ‘pros-uh-luh-tizer,’ or however you pronounce it?” I like what the writer Doug Peacock has on is door mat: COME BACK WITH A WARRANT. Maybe that could be adapted as advice to religious door-knockers with something like: COME BACK WITHOUT YOUR BIBLE. Another possibility is to modify the famous line from Dante’s “Inferno” which appears above the gates of Hell: ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE with a sign that says ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO KNOCK ON MY DOOR. Or maybe I should just post a sign that says IF YOU DON’T KNOW ME, GO AWAY, simple words that anyone should be able to understand. I don’t want to be unfriendly, not at all. I just want to be left alone.
I realize that many Christians interpret their gospel as an obligation to evangelize. While religious proselytizers want to share their opinion of what God thinks, claiming to know the mind of God seems to be the height of arrogance. Further, if God is so omnipotent, I wonder why they frantically try to seek converts. After all, their all-powerful God should be able to lure people to join a particular sect without its members knocking on doors and handing out tracts. I like to tell evangelists who are pitching their beliefs that one thing I admire about freethinkers is that they see no need to try to convert anyone else to their views on religion.
When I hear people proclaiming the superiority of their religion, a song comes to mind that I made up to the turn of Tom Paxton’s “My Dog is better than Your Dog” (the Ken’l Ration advertising jingle). My version goes, “My god is better than your god. My god is better than yours. My god is better ‘cause he is tougher (or smarter, holier, cooler, etc.). My God is better than yours.” George Carlin, the brilliant late comedian, had a famous routine in which he distilled the Ten Commandments down to two and then added a third one, which is particularly apt: Thou shalt keep thy religion to thyself.
Religious faith is a personal belief in one’s deity and provides answers to questions that science cannot, like “Where do we come from?” and ”Is there life after death?” The particular sect in which one chooses to manifest that faith provides answers to such questions through its philosophical structure and teachings. And it is a source of community of fellow believers. There are various factions within all faiths, however, whether they are Jewish, Muslim, Christian, etc., and each faction has its own particular structure, rituals, and interpretation of its holy books. Further, even within a religious group, the belief of each person is different. All Southern Baptists don’t believe exactly the same. Neither do Catholics, Sunni Muslims, Hassidic Jews, or members of any other sect. Hence, faith is personal, that is, faith is each person’s own version of truth and own concept of his or her deity. Sectarian organizations by their own nature, however, create a form of groupthink in which individuals might consciously or unconsciously suppress their own opinions if those opinions differ from the majority of their congregation. Contemporary issues like abortion, female ordination, gay marriage, and even political affiliation are common examples. A practicing Catholic or Southern Baptist might be pro-choice but would face strong opposition or ostracism for voicing that. Similarly, a member of the Unitarian Universalist denomination might be opposed to abortion, but would suffer the same sort of disapproval but from a different perspective Taken to an extreme, there is little difference between a particular religious sect in which individual opinions are not tolerated and a cult.
Another problem with any sort of sect is tribalism, the human tendency of members of a group to focus on the differences between themselves and others who are not in their group, “those people.” It is a fine line between pride in one’s religious identity and objectifying those who don’t share that identity. The arrogance of claiming to know what God think can be used as a justification for members of a religious group to judge others by the tenets of their faith, sometimes to the point that that judgment is discriminatory or harmful.
This classic joke by Emo Phillips captures the dark side of sectarianism:
Once I saw this guy on a bridge about to jump.
I said, “Don’t do it!”
He said, “Nobody loves me.”
I said, “God loves you. Do you believe in God?”
He said, “Yes.”
I said, “Are you a Christian or a Jew?”
He said, “A Christian.”
I said, “Me, too! Protestant or Catholic?”
He said, “Protestant.”
I said, “Me, too! What denomination?”
He said, “Baptist.”
I said, “Me, too! Northern Baptist or Southern Baptist?”
He said, “Northern Baptist.”
I said, “Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist or Northern Liberal Baptist?”
He said, “Northern Conservative Baptist.”
I said, “Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region, or Northern Conservative Baptist Eastern Region?”
He said, “Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region.”
I said, “Me, too! Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1879, or Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912?”
He said, “Northern Conservative Baptist Great Lakes Region Council of 1912.”
I said, “Die, heretic!” And I pushed him over.
During the 2024 Presidential campaign, Tim Walz offered wise counsel on the subject of sectarianism, not just religious but political, as well: “Mind your own damned business.”
Finally, I offer a modest proposal in the spirit of Jonathan Swift: organized religion should be treated like the tobacco industry. A church’s income and property should be taxed. Its advertising should be tightly regulated so as not to entice young people and the unwary. The general public should not be exposed to it except by their own choice, much like smoking areas in airports have been set up to protect non-smokers.