R
Raymond
Guest
For McCain, Silence on Religion is Golden
By the way, I'm not Episcopalian. I'm Baptist."
Just one day before lambasting Barack Obama over his recent comments
about religion, John McCain was a no-show at Sunday's CNN Compassion
Forum on faith. That's because when it comes to discussing his own
religious beliefs, the Republican presidential nominee believes that
silence is golden. And judging by the fawning stories from the
Washington Times, CNN and the Politico, the press corps seems to
agree. But McCain's reticence to speak about his faith doesn't
represent a generational preference for private piety. No, McCain's
silence is an essential strategy to avoid alienating his party's
evangelical base and independent voters alike by drawing attention to
his confusing religious conversion, his myriad past gaffes and his
current backing from extremist ministers.
During his address to the annual convention of the Associated Press,
John McCain made it clear that Barack Obama can't hide from his
comments about religion in small town America:
"Nor did they turn to their religious faith and cultural traditions
out of resentment and a feeling of powerlessness to affect the course
of government or pursue prosperity. On the contrary, their faith had
given generations of their families purpose and meaning, as it does
today."
But hiding from religion is exactly what John McCain has in mind.
Judging from recent headlines from CNN ("McCain More Private About
Prayer Than Rivals") the Washington Times ("McCain Keeps his Faith Out
of Politics") and the Politico ("McCain Shies Away from Religion
Talk"), the American media seems content to give John McCain yet
another free ride.
In a June 2007 interview with the McClatchy papers, McCain put
described his golden rule this way:
"I think it's something between me and my creator. It's primarily a
private issue rather than a public one. When I'm asked about it, I'll
be glad to discuss it. I just don't bring it up."
But there are important reasons why John McCain was so eager to avoid
answering questions on his personal faith during Sunday's Compassion
Forum. That's because in all likelihood, he couldn't.
Pick a Religion, Any Religion
For starters, McCain would have had to address the fundamental
question about which religion he professes to follow. No doubt, his
contradictory and suspiciously-timed statements regarding his on-
again, off-again Episcopalian-to-Baptist conversion is a story that
still needs telling.
During this presidential campaign, McCain has shifted positions when
it comes to what he religion now considers himself to be. In June
2007, McClatchy reported, "McCain still calls himself an
Episcopalian." But as the 2008 South Carolina primary approached,
McCain had a convenient-timed change of heart as he appealed to the
Palmetto's State's massive evangelical base. In August, as ABC
reported, "McCain's campaign staff identified him as 'Episcopalian' in
a questionnaire prepared for ABC News' August 5 debate." But by
September 2007, McCain announced he had in fact switched teams:
"It plays a role in my life. By the way, I'm not Episcopalian. I'm
Baptist."
Interestingly, as the Carpetbagger Report noted at the time,
congressional directories "all identify McCain as an Episcopalian."
And in a flattering Reuters profile last month, Dan Yeary, McCain's
pastor of 15 years at the 7,000 member North Phoenix Baptist Church,
"declined to comment on McCain's reluctance to finally undergo a
baptism ceremony, a key ritual of the faith." As Yeary put it, "John
and I are having continual dialogue about his spiritual pursuits."
McCain's Faith-Based Follies
McCain's present hesitation to speak out on issues of faith may also
be due to controversies that engulfed him in the past. At almost every
turn, John McCain found himself in hot water.
Take, for example, Mr. Straight Talk's hate-love relationship with the
religious right. As he prepared for his second presidential run, John
McCain in the spring of 2006 sought to repair his frayed relationship
with the religious right, one that cost him so dearly during the 2000
South Carolina primary. On April 2, 2006, McCain appeared on Meet the
Press and retracted his famous 2000 claim that the late Reverend Jerry
Falwell was an "agent of intolerance." (Asked by Tim Russert whether
he still viewed Falwell as an agent of intolerance, McCain grudgingly
owned up to his flip-flop, "no, I don't.") On May 13, 2006, McCain
delivered the commencement address at Falwell's Liberty University.
There, the two men walked on stage together, where Falwell then
praised his former foe, "the ilk of John McCain is very scarce, very
small." It's no wonder the Daily Show's Jon Stewart asked McCain that
April, "Are you going into crazy base world?" It's even less
surprising that McCain replied, "I'm afraid so."
In the fall of 2007, McCain's rhetorical outreach to the GOP's
evangelical base assumed comic proportions. In September, the
Episcopalian-turned-Baptist McCain said, "The most important thing is
that I am a Christian." One month later in October he declared, "I
would probably have to say yes, that the Constitution established the
United States of America as a Christian nation." Facing an immediate
backlash from the Anti-Defamation League and others, McCain relented
and acknowledged, "Yes, I believe a Muslim could be president."
McCain's Pastor Problems
No doubt, John McCain doesn't want to discuss his ham-handed reversal
and shameless pandering when it comes to Christian conservatives. Even
more problematic is that the effort has been only partially
successful: the religious right leaders that now back him may be just
as damaging to him as the ones that don't.
Clearly, McCain's work with the GOP's evangelical leadership is
incomplete. Early on, James Dobson of Focus on the Family said, "I'm
praying that we will not get stuck with him." Just two weeks ago,
Dobson continued to publicly voice his concerns, "I have seen no
evidence that Sen. McCain is successfully unifying the Republican
Party or drawing conservatives into his fold," adding, "to the
contrary, he seems intent on driving them away."
Given John McCain's tight-lipped attitude when it comes to the details
of his own spiritual journey or the hot button social issues of the
day, many rank and file evangelicals remain hesitant to aggressively
support him. As CNN's Dana Bash reported:
"Honestly, I haven't gotten a good feel for him. I've been to his Web
site a few times and I haven't gotten a good feeling about where he
stands when it comes to other issues that aren't mainstream issues
that Christians look at," said Doug Enders, an evangelical voter at
New Covenant Fellowship Church in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania.
But some of the leading lights of the radical right have been more
than willing to stand up for John McCain over his hard-line foreign
policy views. As it turns out, the distance from Falwell's Lynchburg
campus to the stages shared with John Hagee and Rod Parsley was a
short one.
In February, McCain declared himself "very proud" and "very honored"
to have Hagee's endorsement. The End-Times Texas pastor and head of
Christian United for Israel (CUFI) isn't merely an anti-Catholic bigot
(he called the church "the great whore" and a "false cult system"),
but an advocate of accelerating Armageddon by promoting a nuclear
showdown with Iran. As for Parsley, whom McCain deemed his "spiritual
guide," the gay-bashing Ohio minister said of Islam that "America was
founded, in part, with the intention of seeing this false religion
destroyed."
Ultimately, McCain offered a half-hearted apology for Pastor Hagee's
more extreme views on Catholicism, if not his desire for an End of
Times conflict with Iran. Still, it reflected McCain's belief that on
matters of faith, the less said, the better.
About Those Ten Commandments
In its glowing piece, the Washington Times theorized that McCain's
general refusal to discuss matters of religion and morality merely
reflects his own supposedly unimpeachable personal integrity. As Paul
Lichterman, an associate professor of sociology and religion at the
University of Southern California, put it:
"I think people look for some kind of sign that a candidate has a
strong moral reputation. I think that may be in part why John McCain
doesn't need to use religion in this campaign. His moral reputation is
already pretty secure in a lot of people's eyes."
Not if those people are familiar with John McCain's marital history.
As Salon detailed back in 2000, the tale of John and Cindy isn't
exactly the stuff of supposed Republican family values:
It seems that McCain, who had once revealed to fellow prisoners of war
in Vietnam that he wanted to be president, was restless in 1979. As
Navy liaison to the Senate, he didn't have the career momentum he had
counted on to propel him into an admiralty and on to the White House.
He was 42, mired in stifling ordinariness. (Civilians call it "midlife
crisis.")
But McCain was making bold career moves on the home front, hotly
pursuing a 25-year-old blond from a wealthy Arizona family -- while
married. Carol, his wife at the time, had once been quite a babe
herself apparently, until a near-fatal car accident (while her husband
was in Vietnam) left her 4 inches shorter, overweight and on crutches.
The couple had three children, whom Carol cared for alone while her
husband was in Vietnamese prisons.
McCain's strategy worked perfectly: After chasing Cindy Hensley around
the country for six months, he closed the deal late in the year, had a
divorce by February and was married to Hensley shortly thereafter.
Bingo! McCain was a candidate for Congress by early 1982, his coffers
full, his home in the proper Arizona district purchased.
John Green of the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life described
McCain's religious philosophy as a sense of commitment to duty, not
doctrine, concluding, "His could be called a 'soldier's faith.'" As a
military man, John McCain it would seem can follow orders, just not
commandments.
Leading God's Own Party
By all indications, John McCain thus far has been wildly successful in
threading the needle when it comes to his religious faith. On the one
hand, he has secured the nomination of a faith-based Republican Party
increasingly committed to tearing down the wall between church and
state. On other, the media have utterly failed to press him on the
changing personal beliefs and policy positions he adopted in order to
garner the GOP nomination. So while John McCain claims that "I'm
unashamed and unembarrassed about my deep faith in God," he's
understandably none too eager to talk about it. As Republican
strategist Cheri Jacobus stated without a trace of irony, "It is to
John McCain's credit that he is not using his faith as a political
tool."
By the way, I'm not Episcopalian. I'm Baptist."
Just one day before lambasting Barack Obama over his recent comments
about religion, John McCain was a no-show at Sunday's CNN Compassion
Forum on faith. That's because when it comes to discussing his own
religious beliefs, the Republican presidential nominee believes that
silence is golden. And judging by the fawning stories from the
Washington Times, CNN and the Politico, the press corps seems to
agree. But McCain's reticence to speak about his faith doesn't
represent a generational preference for private piety. No, McCain's
silence is an essential strategy to avoid alienating his party's
evangelical base and independent voters alike by drawing attention to
his confusing religious conversion, his myriad past gaffes and his
current backing from extremist ministers.
During his address to the annual convention of the Associated Press,
John McCain made it clear that Barack Obama can't hide from his
comments about religion in small town America:
"Nor did they turn to their religious faith and cultural traditions
out of resentment and a feeling of powerlessness to affect the course
of government or pursue prosperity. On the contrary, their faith had
given generations of their families purpose and meaning, as it does
today."
But hiding from religion is exactly what John McCain has in mind.
Judging from recent headlines from CNN ("McCain More Private About
Prayer Than Rivals") the Washington Times ("McCain Keeps his Faith Out
of Politics") and the Politico ("McCain Shies Away from Religion
Talk"), the American media seems content to give John McCain yet
another free ride.
In a June 2007 interview with the McClatchy papers, McCain put
described his golden rule this way:
"I think it's something between me and my creator. It's primarily a
private issue rather than a public one. When I'm asked about it, I'll
be glad to discuss it. I just don't bring it up."
But there are important reasons why John McCain was so eager to avoid
answering questions on his personal faith during Sunday's Compassion
Forum. That's because in all likelihood, he couldn't.
Pick a Religion, Any Religion
For starters, McCain would have had to address the fundamental
question about which religion he professes to follow. No doubt, his
contradictory and suspiciously-timed statements regarding his on-
again, off-again Episcopalian-to-Baptist conversion is a story that
still needs telling.
During this presidential campaign, McCain has shifted positions when
it comes to what he religion now considers himself to be. In June
2007, McClatchy reported, "McCain still calls himself an
Episcopalian." But as the 2008 South Carolina primary approached,
McCain had a convenient-timed change of heart as he appealed to the
Palmetto's State's massive evangelical base. In August, as ABC
reported, "McCain's campaign staff identified him as 'Episcopalian' in
a questionnaire prepared for ABC News' August 5 debate." But by
September 2007, McCain announced he had in fact switched teams:
"It plays a role in my life. By the way, I'm not Episcopalian. I'm
Baptist."
Interestingly, as the Carpetbagger Report noted at the time,
congressional directories "all identify McCain as an Episcopalian."
And in a flattering Reuters profile last month, Dan Yeary, McCain's
pastor of 15 years at the 7,000 member North Phoenix Baptist Church,
"declined to comment on McCain's reluctance to finally undergo a
baptism ceremony, a key ritual of the faith." As Yeary put it, "John
and I are having continual dialogue about his spiritual pursuits."
McCain's Faith-Based Follies
McCain's present hesitation to speak out on issues of faith may also
be due to controversies that engulfed him in the past. At almost every
turn, John McCain found himself in hot water.
Take, for example, Mr. Straight Talk's hate-love relationship with the
religious right. As he prepared for his second presidential run, John
McCain in the spring of 2006 sought to repair his frayed relationship
with the religious right, one that cost him so dearly during the 2000
South Carolina primary. On April 2, 2006, McCain appeared on Meet the
Press and retracted his famous 2000 claim that the late Reverend Jerry
Falwell was an "agent of intolerance." (Asked by Tim Russert whether
he still viewed Falwell as an agent of intolerance, McCain grudgingly
owned up to his flip-flop, "no, I don't.") On May 13, 2006, McCain
delivered the commencement address at Falwell's Liberty University.
There, the two men walked on stage together, where Falwell then
praised his former foe, "the ilk of John McCain is very scarce, very
small." It's no wonder the Daily Show's Jon Stewart asked McCain that
April, "Are you going into crazy base world?" It's even less
surprising that McCain replied, "I'm afraid so."
In the fall of 2007, McCain's rhetorical outreach to the GOP's
evangelical base assumed comic proportions. In September, the
Episcopalian-turned-Baptist McCain said, "The most important thing is
that I am a Christian." One month later in October he declared, "I
would probably have to say yes, that the Constitution established the
United States of America as a Christian nation." Facing an immediate
backlash from the Anti-Defamation League and others, McCain relented
and acknowledged, "Yes, I believe a Muslim could be president."
McCain's Pastor Problems
No doubt, John McCain doesn't want to discuss his ham-handed reversal
and shameless pandering when it comes to Christian conservatives. Even
more problematic is that the effort has been only partially
successful: the religious right leaders that now back him may be just
as damaging to him as the ones that don't.
Clearly, McCain's work with the GOP's evangelical leadership is
incomplete. Early on, James Dobson of Focus on the Family said, "I'm
praying that we will not get stuck with him." Just two weeks ago,
Dobson continued to publicly voice his concerns, "I have seen no
evidence that Sen. McCain is successfully unifying the Republican
Party or drawing conservatives into his fold," adding, "to the
contrary, he seems intent on driving them away."
Given John McCain's tight-lipped attitude when it comes to the details
of his own spiritual journey or the hot button social issues of the
day, many rank and file evangelicals remain hesitant to aggressively
support him. As CNN's Dana Bash reported:
"Honestly, I haven't gotten a good feel for him. I've been to his Web
site a few times and I haven't gotten a good feeling about where he
stands when it comes to other issues that aren't mainstream issues
that Christians look at," said Doug Enders, an evangelical voter at
New Covenant Fellowship Church in Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania.
But some of the leading lights of the radical right have been more
than willing to stand up for John McCain over his hard-line foreign
policy views. As it turns out, the distance from Falwell's Lynchburg
campus to the stages shared with John Hagee and Rod Parsley was a
short one.
In February, McCain declared himself "very proud" and "very honored"
to have Hagee's endorsement. The End-Times Texas pastor and head of
Christian United for Israel (CUFI) isn't merely an anti-Catholic bigot
(he called the church "the great whore" and a "false cult system"),
but an advocate of accelerating Armageddon by promoting a nuclear
showdown with Iran. As for Parsley, whom McCain deemed his "spiritual
guide," the gay-bashing Ohio minister said of Islam that "America was
founded, in part, with the intention of seeing this false religion
destroyed."
Ultimately, McCain offered a half-hearted apology for Pastor Hagee's
more extreme views on Catholicism, if not his desire for an End of
Times conflict with Iran. Still, it reflected McCain's belief that on
matters of faith, the less said, the better.
About Those Ten Commandments
In its glowing piece, the Washington Times theorized that McCain's
general refusal to discuss matters of religion and morality merely
reflects his own supposedly unimpeachable personal integrity. As Paul
Lichterman, an associate professor of sociology and religion at the
University of Southern California, put it:
"I think people look for some kind of sign that a candidate has a
strong moral reputation. I think that may be in part why John McCain
doesn't need to use religion in this campaign. His moral reputation is
already pretty secure in a lot of people's eyes."
Not if those people are familiar with John McCain's marital history.
As Salon detailed back in 2000, the tale of John and Cindy isn't
exactly the stuff of supposed Republican family values:
It seems that McCain, who had once revealed to fellow prisoners of war
in Vietnam that he wanted to be president, was restless in 1979. As
Navy liaison to the Senate, he didn't have the career momentum he had
counted on to propel him into an admiralty and on to the White House.
He was 42, mired in stifling ordinariness. (Civilians call it "midlife
crisis.")
But McCain was making bold career moves on the home front, hotly
pursuing a 25-year-old blond from a wealthy Arizona family -- while
married. Carol, his wife at the time, had once been quite a babe
herself apparently, until a near-fatal car accident (while her husband
was in Vietnam) left her 4 inches shorter, overweight and on crutches.
The couple had three children, whom Carol cared for alone while her
husband was in Vietnamese prisons.
McCain's strategy worked perfectly: After chasing Cindy Hensley around
the country for six months, he closed the deal late in the year, had a
divorce by February and was married to Hensley shortly thereafter.
Bingo! McCain was a candidate for Congress by early 1982, his coffers
full, his home in the proper Arizona district purchased.
John Green of the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life described
McCain's religious philosophy as a sense of commitment to duty, not
doctrine, concluding, "His could be called a 'soldier's faith.'" As a
military man, John McCain it would seem can follow orders, just not
commandments.
Leading God's Own Party
By all indications, John McCain thus far has been wildly successful in
threading the needle when it comes to his religious faith. On the one
hand, he has secured the nomination of a faith-based Republican Party
increasingly committed to tearing down the wall between church and
state. On other, the media have utterly failed to press him on the
changing personal beliefs and policy positions he adopted in order to
garner the GOP nomination. So while John McCain claims that "I'm
unashamed and unembarrassed about my deep faith in God," he's
understandably none too eager to talk about it. As Republican
strategist Cheri Jacobus stated without a trace of irony, "It is to
John McCain's credit that he is not using his faith as a political
tool."