Moral teachings and religious sensibilities

Abstract

p discourse about religion and society has come long way. Scholars, pundits, and policy makers of an stripes now take religion seriously as a social tk~rce and, pe,'haps more remarkably, as a potential force for good in political life. This is a happy development. If we take proper advantage of it, we might achieve a deeper understanding of religion, society, and politics. But this moment of enthusiasm also may tempt us to overstate religion's power for good. Professor Turner succumbs to this temptation, tlis main conclusion is this: "The religious voter, who is by moral training well accustomed to separating his own personal valuations and priorities from those of God, and is thus habitually "double" already, may be a better w~ter and citizen than the purely "sinele" secular voter who has no theoretical basis for dividing his view of the world from that of the larger community." lie arrives at this conclusion by combining a sensible normative position with a dubious empirical assumption. His sensible normative claim is that "doubleness"--the capacity to advance our own interests but at the same time "'step outside of our own interests and perspectives," and the willingness to "'algue [one's] position but accept the position of the electorate"---is a virtue of the democratic citizen. But his application of this normalive principle to our current condition is marred by the dubious empirical assumption that religious people are more inclined than nonreligious people to exhibit this sort of doubleness. A world in which religious people were "'habitually double" in Professor Turner's sense would be a world in which religious leaders found it more difficult than they apparently do to identify their own personal and institutional interests with what they believe God is calling them to do. But there are in fact multiple opportunities for self-deception in religious life, as in secular life, and the ease with which religious leaders and their followers conflate rather than distinguish between their wills and God's will is writ large in the historical record. A list of relevant examples would be familiar to all: Crusades, religious wars, persecution of religious minorities by religious mt(iorities, conflicts within American Protestantism over slavery (recall that the Southern Baptist Convention is the Southern Baptist Convention because American Baptists split in the 1850s over slavery), intrareligious conflict over civil rights for African Americans, religious collabo,'ation with oppressive regimes, the initial response of the Catholic hierarchy to accusations of sexual abuse by clergy, and so on. Over and over again leaders of religious institutions large and small seem, like secular leaders, quite capable of deciding that their deepest beliets justify rather than call into question their self-interested action. Similarly, a world in which religious people were "'well accustomed to separating [their] own personal valuations and priorities from those of God" would be a world in which political leaders, when they connect their religious beliefs to their policies, would be given pause rather than greater assurance that they are doing God's will. But this ideal seems far removed from actual instances of political leaders who have connected religion with public policy. George W. Bush's religiosity made him more, not less, convinced that God endorsed war in Iraq. And the President is not a lone-indeed, he is typical-in having a faith that is self-justifying rather than self-denying. Religious critics of the war are just as sure, after all, that God endorses their position. Indeed, God frequently is understood to have endorsed the values and political preferences--even the directly contlicting values and preferences---of those who seek such endorsement. And religious people frequently seem to discover, after prayerful reflection and study of the scriptures, that God favors their own personal desires and plans. A world in which religion worked mainly to inculcate a moral sensibility that inclined people to distinguish clearly between their own interests and those of the collective would be a world in which humility, ahmg with "'the pain and tension of religious doubleness,'"