on the unlawful, or: faith, hope, and charity

Music: Syd Barrett: Octopus On December 15, 1791 the first amendment to the Constitution of the United States was ratified. It reads: "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 people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances." When I was in seventh grade, it was detailed that the first colonists came to this continent escaping government sanctioned and/or enforced religious beliefs. Because no one in the states could agree on the best way to worship deity, it was decided that the government would not legally "respect" or favor any one religious system, nor would it intervene in the religious practice of a people (as long as no one was getting hurt . . . Christian Scientists, for example, routinely test federal and state district attorneys).

On Friday, after dinner on 6th street at the Iron Cactus, me and Rog and Andrew retired to Lovejoy's for a drink. Lovejoy's is probably my favorite bar off 6th street, but they don't enforce the smoking ban and are real jerks when you want to bring in energy drinks. Anyhoo, so, the theme of Lovejoy's is loosely centered on Shriner regalia (a number of Shriner fezes are nailed to the wall behind the bar), and I muttered something about having mixed feelings about that. This led to a conversation about Freemasonry (what it is and what it teaches). I spoke at length about the Scottish Rite, whose central teaching (in my opinion) is religious tolerance. The rite established it's 33rd degree around the same time that deism was a popular belief system. Masonry, of course, is strongly reflected in the beliefs of our so-called founding fathers-who constantly stressed the necessity of the separation of church and state.

As I explained to Rog and Andrew, the Masonic secrecy of the Blue Lodges was important to Enlightenment thought: if one was studying the starry night sky, he (yes, only men) could share his speculations and researches in a lodge temple without fear of religious persecution. Later, in the United States, after Albert Pike re-wrote the degrees of the Scottish Rite, religious tolerance was centered as a central tenant, most especially in the ritual for the 18th degree, the Knight of the Rose Croix "Masonry has her mission to perform. . . . she invites all men of all religions to enlist under her banners to war against evil, ignorance, and wrong. You are now her Knight! To her service your sword is consecrated . . . ." (from Morals and Dogma, 311). Indeed, aside from the divinity of Jesus, I think the commitment to religious tolerance and the vigilant separation of church and state is what distinguishes the Scottish and York Rites.

I do take my Masonic obligation seriously. At times I find what some masons do inexcusable, but, those who founded the fraternity were committed (however ironically) to democracy.

I find it astonishing, then, if not downright frightening, that Harriet Miers may be confirmed to the Supreme Court as a justice. Last week during another press conference to buoy conservative mood, the President of our country and so-called leader of the free world said:

People ask me why I picked Harriet Miers. They want to know Harriet Miers' background. They want to know as much as they possible can before they form opinions. And part of Harriet Miers' life is her religion.

That religion is even mentioned at all is gravely disturbing, and Bush's remarks unabashedly forward a "litmus" of faith. It's disturbing for a number of reasons. First, the presidential speechcraft is no longer double-voiced, but singular; Bush is speaking directly to the religious right now. There really is no more need to detail the careful ways in which the shout-outs to those who believe in spiritual warfare were made. Second, it's been broadcast widely that Miers is no garden variety Christian, but an "evangelical" Christian in a "very conservative" church. Evangelicalism is, of course, the name for a rather nebulous brand of Christianity. Even so, most evangelicals stress the necessity of being "saved" (conversion is central), of the absolute and literal authority of scripture, and the guidance of the holy spirit in the governance of the polis. Evangelicals do not appreciate the strict separation of church and state, but believe in a coming theocracy (one that is preceded by a wave of natural disasters, as foretold by St. John of Patmos, of course). What is scary is not the potential overturning of Roe vs. Wade, which is not very likely IMHO, but the establishment of a new kind of justice who swears allegiance to the rule of law with a wink to the true believers that she knows very well whose law is to come first. It's all about promises, of course, but more in terms of a kiss-up and a covenant and less so a social contract.