If Parrots Could Pray

     As an observant member of a Christian denomination, I follow this personal rule: I avoid mentioning that I am an observant member of a Christian denomination.
     This spares me hearing from the loudmouth who watches for opportunities to declaim that he does not believe in God, and phrases himself  to imply that I am a fool. At the other extreme, I'm spared dealing with the Christian soldier who assumes that I share his views on everything from politics to sexual practices, and that I am quivering to join him in evangelizing everyone within earshot.
    Also, my rule reduces my risk of discomfiting members of a plentiful tribe these days:  principled, good-hearted people who would not dream of joining a house of worship.
     Their reasons vary, in my experience. They may find the available faith narratives implausible. Or they feel they can lead an upright and even a faithful life without belonging to a religious organization. They may resist belonging to a religious organization because the ones on display so vividly reflect shortcomings of human nature.
     Among today's versions of the Christian tradition, certainly, a good deal of dubious human behavior is being amplified through the megaphone of politics. Consider one example in the area where I live. A congressman running for re-election festoons his campaign pitch  with the next thing to an altar call: "I've dedicated my life to sharing God's love through Jesus Christ." He goes on to suggest that his re-election is important in bringing an end to the so-called war on Christmas.
     He is running against a Baptist  minister who nearly beat him once before. They make an emblematic pair: a politician implying divine guidance, and a churchman reaching for secular power.
      The Christian right's covetous interest in political  clout may achieve a new consummation.  One notion simmering in Congress would let churches and charities openly support political candidates yet keep their tax-exempt status. Conservative elements in the church have favored allowing politicians closer proximity to the collection plate and, thereby, churchmen more influential proximity to politicians.
     Proximity facilitates contamination, of course. Politicians resort to such ploys as our congressman's Christmas red herring. Churchmen imagine a modern form of conversion at sword's point: writing religious precept into civil law.
     While the adulteration of political discourse is troubling, attentive citizens do have available the remedy of the vote. The converse effect upon the church is a deeper thing for me.
     Those who want Congress to enforce their religious doctrines on the general public are trifling with the very idea of faith. As C.S. Lewis said, if mere conformity were enough, parrots could pray. And if power were not as dangerously tempting to churchmen as to anyone else, the Christian right would not now be heedlessly embracing a Republican party that has abandoned even a pretense of principled behavior.
     Meanwhile, I fear we shall hear more bogus claims of a war on Christmas. For my own part, I do have relief conveniently at hand.  I can go to lunch at the Jewish deli around the corner from my house. There they have put up two holiday banners. One says Happy Hanukkah. The other says Merry Christmas.
     Now, there's a model.