Our Little Girl is Growing Up

Malinda sent me an email the other day that mentioned the fact that I was growing up. She is right in a lot of ways because I have never felt like a grown up before. I have never worked at a serious job, where I had serious responsibilities, or where I was considered a professional. Now that I am entering the grown up professional world of teaching, I have to admit it feels nice. I know McIntosh is a small school system, in a small crappy town, but they have treated me like they are thrilled to have me; like I am someone valuable to them. I get letters from the school board telling me what is going to happen in the next week, and how excited they are to have me as a member of their team, and it feels very nice. I got a letter from the principal yesterday detailing our first full week of school starting on the 7th. It involves a lot of training, but there is also a lot of time to spend "Working in Rooms," and I have to admit that I look forward to that part the most.

I could not help but notice that their are quite a few male teachers at MCA. I told my friend Tammi, maybe I'll meet a nice boy. She reminded me of Phil and I felt sort of bad, but I have to admit, the thought of meeting someone else is on my mind. All of the social studies teachers are male - one is named Rosenbaum - a nice Jew boy. Hmmmm . . .

In the next few days, I am going to try and put up some pictures of me modeling my new school clothes so you can tell me what to wear on the day of New Teacher Orientation (August 1), Open House (August 10) and the first day of school (August 11).

The "It" Girl

When I was in the book store yesterday I was looking for the new paperback Harry Potter book for Hope. As I looked around the new books for youth, I saw the book above and could not help but pick it up. It looked too provocative to be next to Out of the Dust, Kira-Kira and Island of the Blue Dolphins. So, I looked it over and here is what it said on the back:

"Every girl dreams about it. Some just have it. How far will one girl go to become...The It Girl
Popular GOSSIP GIRL character Jenny Humphrey is making a splash at Waverly Academy, an elite boarding school in New York horse country where glamorous rich kids don't let the rules get in the way of an excellent time. It's less than a week into school, but Jenny's already been caught with her roommate's boyfriend (in bed!), flashed the whole school at a field hockey game, and gone up against the Disciplinary Committee. She's become notorious, just like Tinsley Carmichael, Waverly's former-it girl, who was expelled last year and is rumored to be jet-setting around the world. So what happens when Tinsley arrives back on campus and moves in with Jenny? After all, there can only be one It Girl..."

I am not prudish, but having a daughter who will turn 13 in two weeks made me wonder about the type of books Hope, and the other girls around her are reading. Hope reads nothing if it does not involve Harry Potter, wizards or animals, but I know a lot of girls her age read things like this and it really influences their way of thinking. The girl on the cover of this book is so thin and blond. We have all seen the high-school girls, and 40 year old women for that matter, that do one reckless thing after the other to be the "It" girl. Who feel that they must be the center of attention. Books like this really encourage this type of competition between girls who will eventually be women. I guess teen books have always had the theme of "belonging", but in the past, they seemed to encourage difference. Being different was something to be proud of, at least by the end of the book. Not so anymore it seems. What do you think?

Another Crazy Movie

I fell asleep last night with the television on, and when I woke up at 4am, I was captivated by the movie on the screen. I pressed "Info" on my remote and saw that this film was called "Retro Puppet Master," and here is the film's description: "It's 1892 and Sutekh is hopping mad. It seems a 3,000 year old Egyptian sorcerer has stolen one of the God's secrets of life - that of instilling the souls of the dying into inanimate things. . . " I put a link to the trailer in, but I do not think the trailer does this creepy film justice.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0189047/trailers-screenplay-E12033-10-2

To me, puppets are the creepiest things in the world. When I was young, I spent the first 8 years of my life sleeping between my mom and dad. I was terrified of sleeping alone in my own room. Finally, my parents insisted (I wonder why) that I sleep in my room. I can clearly remember how scared I was that first night, but I was also determined. A lady in our church, Mrs. Kelleher, had made me a clown made out of yarn. Some of you may remember them - they had twisty, long yarn arms and a styrofoam head with shaky eyes and a big red mouth. The one in the picture above is pink, and mine was red and instead of hair, he had one of those pointy dunce caps on its head, but it is a fairly accurate representation of what my clown looked like. Mrs. Kelleher also made ducks out of Clorox bottles, but that is another story. My mother hung the clown in the corner of my room "to keep me company." Nice gesture, but clowns are about as freaky as puppets. As I lay in my bed, with my eyes closed, I swear I heard the sound of a knife whizzing by my head and when I jerked opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was that damn clown hanging in the corner, grinning at me; his red lips looking as if they were covered in my blood. I grabbed my throat and made sure that I had not been stabbed, and when I felt no injury, I got up and grabbed the clown and threw him outside of my room.

I made it through the night, and the next morning I could not stop talking about how proud I was of myself. My brother Robbie looked at me across the breakfast table, with his smelly and disgusting mixture of grits and eggs on his plate and said, "I wish you would shut up." I did shut up, and I remember the way it felt to have my proud moment ruined by my brother's harsh words.

Bitching and Moaning

The title to this post is not very accurate, but I could not say "Rants and Raves" because that would infringe on Kirsten's territory. I went on Friday and signed my contract with the McIntosh county school system. I am officially employed! I began to be a little nervous when I had not been asked by them to come in and sign my contract. I thought that they had decided not to hire me and hated me so much that they were not going to call and tell me. But they did call and I went. They are having new teacher orientation on August 1st so I get to go and meet the other new teachers and get all of my benefit information. I am so thrilled that I can get dental insurance that includes orthodontics. Trey can finally get his gap closed :) I worked my bum off to pay the 3,700 dollars for Reese's braces, but it was well worth it - nothing says "Neglect" like a messed up grill. That may be harsh, but I hate screwed up teeth, and one time, on Oprah, they had an expert that says people judge you first and foremost by your teeth. I am also happy that I can get some much needed work done to my own neglected grill. I also found out that the governor is giving all Georgia teachers a $100 gift card to use for materials for their classroom. The human resource lady did not make it clear that this was for the classroom, so I thought it was just a gift for the teachers. So I had my first gaffe when I said,
"Oh great, I have three little ones to get ready for school and that will come in handy."
"No. That card is only for your classroom."
I was embarrassed. Now she will think I am a dull creature. I thought the card was a nice gesture from governor Purdue, but the lady in human resources, Ms. Starr, said that it was only because it was an election year. Well, thanks anyway Sonny.

On another note, in last nights Brunswick news (you can read it online at www.thebrunswicknews.com) there was an article about the findings of an investigation into the discipline referrals in the Glynn county schools. The investigation revealed that minority students make up a disproportionate number of discipline referrals and that it seems to be the same teachers over and over again. This morning, I listened to Straight Talk on the local AM station and they were discussing the article. One of the principals in town makes her teachers read Understanding Poverty by Ruby Payne so they can understand how poverty affects a child's learning experience. Sounds like a great idea to me. One guy called in and said, "I think it is just crazy that that principal makes everyone read that book. I mean, you are asking teachers to dumb themselves down is ridiculous."
Yeah, reading a book is asking teachers to "dumb down." What on earth are people thinking? Do they really think that trying to understand the lives of their students is not a good thing? That knowing what it is like to be hungry and have a crack head for a mom or dad would not be useful for a teacher? I was infuriated and I tried to get through but the lines were jammed up with idiots who wanted to express the same opinion as that moron. OK. I feel better now.

A New Favorite

I have been a little to needy lately, so I thought I would share a website with you that I have fallen in love with. Most of you are probably familiar with it, but I am always a johnny-come-lately. It is www.theonion.com. It has headlines such as "Deadlocked Supreme Court: Someone's Voting Twice," "Comedian Confesses to Killing them Out There," "Giant Cockroach In Bathroom 'A Harrowing,Kafkaesque Experience,' Grad Student Says," and my favorite so far, "$18 Payment To Sponsored Child Withheld To Teach Child A Lesson."

Lately, every news story depresses me. It seems as if the world is in a state of turmoil and I fear for the future of my children, so a little humor is always appreciated.

This is How I Feel

I love sunflowers. They usually stand so tall and beautiful. They usually look as if they are smiling and enjoying the sun on their upturned faces. I was walking around yesterday, and it was so incredibly hot and humid, that when I saw this flower, I thought: "This is how I feel." The heat has just sapped me of my ability to enjoy being outside, which is something I always like to do, but it is just too hot to appreciate anything other than an air conditioned room.

I am also very disappointed in myself. I was going to take the time I had off from school to lose forty pounds before I began teaching. Once again I failed to meet my goal. I have not been going to the gym or eating healthy like I know I should. I just cannot seem to gain control over my eating habits. Self-control and discipline allude me in the areas of food and exercise. I am reading a book I borrowed from Audrey about personal finance called the Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey. Last night I read a line that struck me as absolutely true: "The only thing stopping me from being skinny and rich is the man in the mirror." He is right. For me, rich is a distant second to skinny. Given the choice, I would chose skinny any day. So why is it that I cannot attain something so seemingly important to me? In the real, I only have myself to blame.

Redeeming Myself

 
I could not stand to think of leaving all of you with the other image of myself. See, I was so cute! My mom said I loved boots and these are fantastic boots! I was four in the top pic and a prescious lamb of six months in the bottom. My mom was feeding me something (probably a sweet) and that is my brother Robbie just behind me. He was so cute then. This is the first time I noticed him in the background. 

As Requested

 
 
Please let me explain the reasoning behind posting these pictures. Kirsten wanted a picture of me in my teens wearing my goon suit. I really like to hear Kirsten guffaw so, even though I can't be there to hear it, I like to make her laugh otherwise I would not do this. I added pictures of other goobers wearing the same outfit so you will know that I had no choice in the matter and I was not alone in my humiliation. The girl on the bottom right is still one of my very good friends Tammi. She is Wannabe Rock Star's wife on my myspace page. The girl on the left kissed my boyfriend and turned into a whore, but later she settled down, moved to Atlanta and married a drummer in a band. They are very happy, and I am glad. I never did hold a grudge about that kiss. The girl in the middle is Shaun and she is a bitch now, and acts like she does not see me sometimes and then other times acts like she is my best friend. She has not changed much since middle school. Laugh all you want. I don't know how clear the image is, but I had on purple eyeshadow, blush and unplucked eyebrows. Ugh! The haircut! Shameful! I prefer to remember my teen years looking like I do in the pic on the bottom. I had a wig on by the way . . . Notice the Emmanuel Christian School Patriots jacket behind me? I think I was 13 or 14 in these pictures. I look younger now . . . O the eighty's! 

Library Thing

As the time approaches for me to enter the classroom, I am reading everything I can get my hands on to help me out. I am reading a book called In the Middle by Nancy Atwell, and Atwell advises teachers to let their students immerse themselves in books that they enjoy instead of imposing their own reading choices on the class. I really want to create an atmosphere where reading is not a chore, but a joy. Idealistic I know, but I prefer idealism to being jaded. The problem is that because of the school I went to, I have no real idea of good adolescent literature - books that are literary and relevant to the lives of students without being boring. So, I need your help. Make a list of some of the books you read in middle school and high school that meant something to you, or that you just enjoyed reading, and send it to me. I am going to get a library of your recommendations together and have it available in my classroom. I am curious which books will wind up repeatedly on the lists.
Thanks for your help!

Failure

For most of my life I have lived in fear of failure. No, as I think of this, that is not true. My teen years were spent doing things that no one else would do. I had no fear of rejection. While my friends waited by the phone for a guy to call them, I was the girl that picked up the phone and called the boy that I wanted to date. I went white water rafting, talked to influential people as if they could never reject me and organized protests against wrongs in my school. When my mom introduced me to her old boyfriend Brooks from high school, who was now a wealthy real estate developer, I told him my plans for life. I respected and admired Brooks because he was a kind man who made great decisions and was, and still is, the most charitable man I have ever met. I will always remember - with much regret - what he said:"I believe you will do that, but much more as well." I don't want you to think that I was superwoman or anything, but I was always, always different from those around me - maybe that is good, and maybe not, but that is how it was for me for as long as I can remember.
My need to live above the rules that everyone else followed lead me to make a lot of mistakes in my life. And after those mistakes, my fear of failure became a major issue in my life. If I could be so wrong about the man I chose to marry and have children with, then how could I trust myself to make good choices for my life? Self-doubt will lead to much hand-wringing, and not a lot of joy in life. Only recently have I been able to get back a touch of my reckless, teenage self - a little late - but maybe not. I am by no means old, but I cannot think of myself alone. Living above the rules has its consequences and I am no longer willing to pay those consequences. I would have three other people paying along with me and that is too high of a price for me. Maybe, with the rest of my life, I can do some of the things that Brooks saw me doing. I stand on the verge of failure - I am terrified at the thought of being a teacher, or at least a good teacher - but I hope that my fear of failure will dissipate in the face of the good I can do in the classroom.

Well Said Barack

The following is a speech given by Barack Obama. I think he says what I believe better than I could ever say it. It may be long, but I think it is wonderful and well-worth reading.

Remarks of Senator Barack Obama

Call to Renewal Keynote Address

Washington, DC

Wednesday, June 28th, 2006




Good morning. I appreciate the opportunity to speak here at the Call to Renewal’s Building a Covenant for a New America conference, and I’d like to congratulate you all on the thoughtful presentations you’ve given so far about poverty and justice in America. I think all of us would affirm that caring for the poor finds root in all of our religious traditions – certainly that’s true for my own.


But today I’d like to talk about the connection between religion and politics and perhaps offer some thoughts about how we can sort through some of the often bitter arguments over this issue over the last several years.


I do so because, as you all know, we can affirm the importance of poverty in the Bible and discuss the religious call to environmental stewardship all we want, but it won’t have an impact if we don’t tackle head-on the mutual suspicion that sometimes exists between religious America and secular America.


For me, this need was illustrated during my 2004 face for the U.S. Senate. My opponent, Alan Keyes, was well-versed in the Jerry Falwell-Pat Robertson style of rhetoric that often labels progressives as both immoral and godless.


Indeed, towards the end of the campaign, Mr. Keyes said that, “Jesus Christ would not vote for Barack Obama. Christ would not vote for Barack Obama because Barack Obama has behaved in a way that it is inconceivable for Christ to have behaved.”


Now, I was urged by some of my liberal supporters not to take this statement seriously. To them, Mr. Keyes was an extremist, his arguments not worth entertaining.


What they didn’t understand, however, was that I had to take him seriously. For he claimed to speak for my religion – he claimed knowledge of certain truths.


Mr. Obama says he’s a Christian, he would say, and yet he supports a lifestyle that the Bible calls an abomination.


Mr. Obama says he’s a Christian, but supports the destruction of innocent and sacred life.


What would my supporters have me say? That a literalist reading of the Bible was folly? That Mr. Keyes, a Roman Catholic, should ignore the teachings of the Pope?




Unwilling to go there, I answered with the typically liberal response in some debates – namely, that we live in a pluralistic society, that I can’t impose my religious views on another, that I was running to be the U.S. Senator of Illinois and not the Minister of Illinois.


But Mr. Keyes implicit accusation that I was not a true Christian nagged at me, and I was also aware that my answer didn’t adequately address the role my faith has in guiding my own values and beliefs.


My dilemma was by no means unique. In a way, it reflected the broader debate we’ve been having in this country for the last thirty years over the role of religion in politics.


For some time now, there has been plenty of talk among pundits and pollsters that the political divide in this country has fallen sharply along religious lines. Indeed, the single biggest “gap” in party affiliation among white Americans today is not between men and women, or those who reside in so-called Red States and those who reside in Blue, but between those who attend church regularly and those who don’t.


Conservative leaders, from Falwell and Robertson to Karl Rove and Ralph Reed, have been all too happy to exploit this gap, consistently reminding evangelical Christians that Democrats disrespect their values and dislike their Church, while suggesting to the rest of the country that religious Americans care only about issues like abortion and gay marriage; school prayer and intelligent design.


Democrats, for the most part, have taken the bait. At best, we may try to avoid the conversation about religious values altogether, fearful of offending anyone and claiming that – regardless of our personal beliefs – constitutional principles tie our hands. At worst, some liberals dismiss religion in the public square as inherently irrational or intolerant, insisting on a caricature of religious Americans that paints them as fanatical, or thinking that the very word “Christian” describes one’s political opponents, not people of faith.


Such strategies of avoidance may work for progressives when the opponent is Alan Keyes. But over the long haul, I think we make a mistake when we fail to acknowledge the power of faith in the lives of the American people, and join a serious debate about how to reconcile faith with our modern, pluralistic democracy.


We first need to understand that Americans are a religious people. 90 percent of us believe in God, 70 percent affiliate themselves with an organized religion, 38 percent call themselves committed Christians, and substantially more people believe in angels than do those who believe in evolution.


This religious tendency is not simply the result of successful marketing by skilled preachers or the draw of popular mega-churches. In fact, it speaks to a hunger that’s deeper than that – a hunger that goes beyond any particular issue or cause.


Each day, it seems, thousands of Americans are going about their daily round – dropping off the kids at school, driving to the office, flying to a business meeting, shopping at the mall, trying to stay on their diets – and coming to the realization that something is missing. They are deciding that their work, their possessions, their diversions, their sheer busyness, is not enough.


They want a sense of purpose, a narrative arc to their lives. They’re looking to relieve a chronic loneliness, a feeling supported by a recent study that shows Americans have fewer close friends and confidants than ever before. And so they need an assurance that somebody out there cares about them, is listening to them – that they are not just destined to travel down a long highway towards nothingness.


I speak from experience here. I was not raised in a particularly religious household. My father, who returned to Kenya when I was just two, was Muslim but as an adult became an atheist. My mother, whose parents were non-practicing Baptists and Methodists, grew up with a healthy skepticism of organized religion herself. As a consequence, I did too.


It wasn’t until after college, when I went to Chicago to work as a community organizer for a group of Christian churches, that I confronted my own spiritual dilemma.


The Christians who I worked with recognized themselves in me; they saw that I knew their Book and shared their values and sang their songs. But they sensed a part of me that remained removed, detached, an observer in their midst. In time, I too came to realize that something was missing – that without a vessel for my beliefs, without a commitment to a particular community of faith, at some level I would always remain apart and alone.


If not for the particular attributes of the historically black church, I may have accepted this fate. But as the months passed in Chicago, I found myself drawn to the church.


For one thing, I believed and still believe in the power of the African-American religious tradition to spur social change, a power made real by some of the leaders here today. Because of its past, the black church understands in an intimate way the Biblical call to feed the hungry and cloth the naked and challenge powers and principalities. And in its historical struggles for freedom and the rights of man, I was able to see faith as more than just a comfort to the weary or a hedge against death; it is an active, palpable agent in the world. It is a source of hope.


And perhaps it was out of this intimate knowledge of hardship, the grounding of faith in struggle, that the church offered me a second insight: that faith doesn’t mean that you don’t have doubts. You need to come to church precisely because you are of this world, not apart from it; you need to embrace Christ precisely because you have sins to wash away – because you are human and need an ally in your difficult journey.


It was because of these newfound understandings that I was finally able to walk down the aisle of Trinity United Church of Christ one day and affirm my Christian faith. It came about as a choice, and not an epiphany; the questions I had did not magically disappear. But kneeling beneath that cross on the South Side of Chicago, I felt I heard God’s spirit beckoning me. I submitted myself to His will, and dedicated myself to discovering His truth.


The path I traveled has been shared by millions upon millions of Americans – evangelicals, Catholics, Protestants, Jews and Muslims alike; some since birth, others at a turning point in their lives. It is not something they set apart from the rest of their beliefs and values. In fact, it is often what drives them.


This is why, if we truly hope to speak to people where they’re at – to communicate our hopes and values in a way that’s relevant to their own – we cannot abandon the field of religious discourse.


Because when we ignore the debate about what it means to be a good Christian or Muslim or Jew; when we discuss religion only in the negative sense of where or how it should not be practiced, rather than in the positive sense of what it tells us about our obligations towards one another; when we shy away from religious venues and religious broadcasts because we assume that we will be unwelcome – others will fill the vacuum, those with the most insular views of faith, or those who cynically use religion to justify partisan ends.


In other words, if we don’t reach out to evangelical Christians and other religious Americans and tell them what we stand for, Jerry Falwell’s and Pat Robertson’s will continue to hold sway.


More fundamentally, the discomfort of some progressives with any hint of religion has often prevented us from effectively addressing issues in moral terms. Some of the problem here is rhetorical – if we scrub language of all religious content, we forfeit the imagery and terminology through which millions of Americans understand both their personal morality and social justice. Imagine Lincoln’s Second Inaugural Address without reference to “the judgments of the Lord,” or King’s I Have a Dream speech without reference to “all of God’s children.” Their summoning of a higher truth helped inspire what had seemed impossible and move the nation to embrace a common destiny.


Our failure as progressives to tap into the moral underpinnings of the nation is not just rhetorical. Our fear of getting “preachy” may also lead us to discount the role that values and culture play in some of our most urgent social problems.


After all, the problems of poverty and racism, the uninsured and the unemployed, are not simply technical problems in search of the perfect ten point plan. They are rooted in both societal indifference and individual callousness – in the imperfections of man.


Solving these problems will require changes in government policy; it will also require changes in hearts and minds. I believe in keeping guns out of our inner cities, and that our leaders must say so in the face of the gun manufacturer’s lobby – but I also believe that when a gang-banger shoots indiscriminately into a crowd because he feels somebody disrespected him, we have a problem of morality; there’s a hole in that young man’s heart – a hole that government programs alone cannot fix.


I believe in vigorous enforcement of our non-discrimination laws; but I also believe that a transformation of conscience and a genuine commitment to diversity on the part of the nation’s CEOs can bring quicker results than a battalion of lawyers.


I think we should put more of our tax dollars into educating poor girls and boys, and give them the information about contraception that can prevent unwanted pregnancies, lower abortion rates, and help assure that that every child is loved and cherished. But my bible tells me that if we train a child in the way he should go, when he is old he will not turn from it. I think faith and guidance can help fortify a young woman’s sense of self, a young man’s sense of responsibility, and a sense of reverence all young people for the act of sexual intimacy.


I am not suggesting that every progressive suddenly latch on to religious terminology. Nothing is more transparent than inauthentic expressions of faith – the politician who shows up at a black church around election time and claps – off rhythm – to the gospel choir.


But what I am suggesting is this – secularists are wrong when they ask believers to leave their religion at the door before entering into the public square. Frederick Douglas, Abraham Lincoln, Williams Jennings Bryant, Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King – indeed, the majority of great reformers in American history – were not only motivated by faith, but repeatedly used religious language to argue for their cause. To say that men and women should not inject their “personal morality” into public policy debates is a practical absurdity; our law is by definition a codification of morality, much of it grounded in the Judeo-Christian tradition.


Moreover, if we progressives shed some of these biases, we might recognize the overlapping values that both religious and secular people share when it comes to the moral and material direction of our country. We might recognize that the call to sacrifice on behalf of the next generation, the need to think in terms of “thou” and not just “I,” resonates in religious congregations across the country. And we might realize that we have the ability to reach out to the evangelical community and engage millions of religious Americans in the larger project of America’s renewal.


Some of this is already beginning to happen. Pastors like Rick Warren and T.D. Jakes are wielding their enormous influences to confront AIDS, Third World debt relief, and the genocide in Darfur. Religious thinkers and activists like my friend Jim Wallis and Tony Campolo are lifting up the Biblical injunction to help the poor as a means of mobilizing Christians against budget cuts to social programs and growing inequality. National denominations have shown themselves as a force on Capitol Hill, on issues such as immigration and the federal budget. And across the country, individual churches like my own are sponsoring day care programs, building senior centers, helping ex-offenders reclaim their lives, and rebuilding our gulf coast in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.


To build on these still-tentative partnerships between the religious and secular worlds will take work – a lot more work than we’ve done so far. The tensions and suspicions on each side of the religious divide will have to be squarely addressed, and each side will need to accept some ground rules for collaboration.


While I’ve already laid out some of the work that progressives need to do on this, I that the conservative leaders of the Religious Right will need to acknowledge a few things as well.


For one, they need to understand the critical role that the separation of church and state has played in preserving not only our democracy, but the robustness of our religious practice. That during our founding, it was not the atheists or the civil libertarians who were the most effective champions of this separation; it was the persecuted religious minorities, Baptists like John Leland, who were most concerned that any state-sponsored religion might hinder their ability to practice their faith.


Moreover, given the increasing diversity of America’s population, the dangers of sectarianism have never been greater. Whatever we once were, we are no longer just a Christian nation; we are also a Jewish nation, a Muslim nation, a Buddhist nation, a Hindu nation, and a nation of nonbelievers.


And even if we did have only Christians within our borders, who’s Christianity would we teach in the schools? James Dobson’s, or Al Sharpton’s? Which passages of Scripture should guide our public policy? Should we go with Levitacus, which suggests slavery is ok and that eating shellfish is abomination? How about Deuteronomy, which suggests stoning your child if he strays from the faith? Or should we just stick to the Sermon on the Mount – a passage so radical that it’s doubtful that our Defense Department would survive its application?


This brings me to my second point. Democracy demands that the religiously motivated translate their concerns into universal, rather than religion-specific, values. It requires that their proposals be subject to argument, and amenable to reason. I may be opposed to abortion for religious reasons, but if I seek to pass a law banning the practice, I cannot simply point to the teachings of my church or evoke God’s will. I have to explain why abortion violates some principle that is accessible to people of all faiths, including those with no faith at all.


This may be difficult for those who believe in the inerrancy of the Bible, as many evangelicals do. But in a pluralistic democracy, we have no choice. Politics depends on our ability to persuade each other of common aims based on a common reality. It involves the compromise, the art of the possible. At some fundamental level, religion does not allow for compromise. It insists on the impossible. If God has spoken, then followers are expected to live up to God’s edicts, regardless of the consequences. To base one’s life on such uncompromising commitments may be sublime; to base our policy making on such commitments would be a dangerous thing.


We all know the story of Abraham and Isaac. Abraham is ordered by God to offer up his only son, and without argument, he takes Isaac to the mountaintop, binds him to an altar, and raises his knife, prepared to act as God has commanded.


Of course, in the end God sends down an angel to intercede at the very last minute, and Abraham passes God’s test of devotion.


But it’s fair to say that if any of us saw a twenty-first century Abraham raising the knife on the roof of his apartment building, we would, at the very least, call the police and expect the Department of Children and Family Services to take Isaac away from Abraham. We would do so because we do not hear what Abraham hears, do not see what Abraham sees, true as those experiences may be. So the best we can do is act in accordance with those things that are possible for all of us to know, be it common laws or basic reason.


Finally, any reconciliation between faith and democratic pluralism requires some sense of proportion.


This goes for both sides.


Even those who claim the Bible’s inerrancy make distinctions between Scriptural edicts, a sense that some passages – the Ten Commandments, say, or a belief in Christ’s divinity – are central to Christian faith, while others are more culturally specific and may be modified to accommodate modern life.


The American people intuitively understand this, which is why the majority of Catholics practice birth control and some of those opposed to gay marriage nevertheless are opposed to a Constitutional amendment to ban it. Religious leadership need not accept such wisdom in counseling their flocks, but they should recognize this wisdom in their politics.


But a sense of proportion should also guide those who police the boundaries between church and state. Not every mention of God in public is a breach to the wall of separation – context matters. It is doubtful that children reciting the Pledge of Allegiance feel oppressed or brainwashed as a consequence of muttering the phrase “under God;” I certainly didn’t. Having voluntary student prayer groups using school property to meet should not be a threat, any more than its use by the High School Republicans should threaten Democrats. And one can envision certain faith-based programs – targeting ex-offenders or substance abusers – that offer a uniquely powerful way of solving problems.


So we all have some work to do here. But I am hopeful that we can bridge the gaps that exist and overcome the prejudices each of us bring to this debate. And I have faith that millions of believing Americans want that to happen. No matter how religious they may or may not be, people are tired of seeing faith used as a tool to attack and belittle and divide – they’re tired of hearing folks deliver more screed than sermon. Because in the end, that’s not how they think about faith in their own lives.

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So let me end with another interaction I had during my campaign. A few days after I won the Democratic nomination in my U.S. Senate race, I received an email from a doctor at the University of Chicago Medical School that said the following:


“Congratulations on your overwhelming and inspiring primary win. I was happy to vote for you, and I will tell you that I am seriously considering voting for you in the general election. I write to express my concerns that may, in the end, prevent me from supporting you.”


The doctor described himself as a Christian who understood his commitments to be “totalizing.” His faith led him to a strong opposition to abortion and gay marriage, although he said that his faith also led him to question the idolatry of the free market and quick resort to militarism that seemed to characterize much of President Bush’s foreign policy.


But the reason the doctor was considering not voting for me was not simply my position on abortion. Rather, he had read an entry that my campaign had posted on my website, which suggested that I would fight “right wing ideologues who want to take away a woman’s right to choose.” He went on to write:


“I sense that you have a strong sense of justice…and I also sense that you are a fair minded person with a high regard for reason…Whatever your convictions, if you truly believe that those who oppose abortion are all ideologues driven by perverse desires to inflict suffering on women, then you, in my judgment, are not fair-minded….You know that we enter times that are fraught with possibilities for good and for harm, times when we are struggling to make sense of a common polity in the context of plurality, when we are unsure of what grounds we have for making any claims that involve others…I do not ask at this point that you oppose abortion, only that you speak about this issue in fair-minded words.”


I checked my web-site and found the offending words. My staff had written them to summarize my pro-choice position during the Democratic primary, at a time when some of my opponents were questioning my commitment to protect Roe v. Wade.


Re-reading the doctor’s letter, though, I felt a pang of shame. It is people like him who are looking for a deeper, fuller conversation about religion in this country. They may not change their positions, but they are willing to listen and learn from those who are willing to speak in reasonable terms – those who know of the central and awesome place that God holds in the lives of so many, and who refuse to treat faith as simply another political issue with which to score points.


I wrote back to the doctor and thanked him for his advice. The next day, I circulated the email to my staff and changed the language on my website to state in clear but simple terms my pro-choice position. And that night, before I went to bed, I said a prayer of my own – a prayer that I might extend the same presumption of good faith to others that the doctor had extended to me.


It is a prayer I still say for America today – a hope that we can live with one another in a way that reconciles the beliefs of each with the good of all. It’s a prayer worth praying, and a conversation worth having in this country in the months and years to come. Thank you.