By William Murchison on 2.16.10 @ 6:08AM
"How Christian Were the Founders?" the New York
Times asks.
We Texans are a mess, you bet. First, we send you George W. Bush,
then we try to write the textbooks for all you non-God-fearing
rabble.
A New York Times Magazine cover
story by Russell Shorto (Feb. 14) puts the latter matter
under the magnifying glass. Our "$22 billion education fund,"
Shorto explains, "is among the largest educational endowments in
the country. Texas uses some of that money to buy or distribute a
staggering 48 million textbooks annually -- which rather strongly
inclines educational publishers to tailor their products to fit
the standards dictated by the Lone Star State."
Here's the State Board of Education, then, considering how
hard it might press publishers to emphasize the nation's
Christian origins -- suggesting, according to Shorto's summation,
"that the United States was founded by devout Christians and
according to Biblical precepts." If you don't at least suspect
the reaction of New York Times readers to such an
affirmation, you don't know the first thing about New York
Times readers. The nearly-unanimous reaction, in reader
replies to the magazine piece: : Yowwwwwwwwwwwwwww! -- a
collective shriek of injury and indignation.
A few excerpts before I move on to the substance of the
matter:
"These people are dangerous. Has Sarah Palin spoken for
them yet?"
"These people are scary."
"Can't we simply return Texas to the Mexicans and
terminate this national embarrassment? Why is Texas still part
of the Union?"
"Fanatics and demagogues…"
"Jesus would have thrown the book at these
phonies."
"There seem [sic] to be an unlimited supply of lunatics
in America."
Now what I really enjoy here is the lofty tone -- the note
of unruffled curiosity concerning a difference of viewpoint that
gentlemen and ladies might wish to inspect if not necessarily
respect. Yes, indeed: the hope for reconciliation and the reign
of reason! The truth is, nothing so surely drives the
secular-minded around the bend as does the assertion that for the
last two millennia Western civilization lived by religious
suppositions other than theirs.
These people really don't like Texans or Christians either
one -- a taste I would hold to be sacredly guaranteed them but
for the introduction into this context of such a word such as
"sacred."
Here's what I am going to suggest: the attitude of secular
hatred, or just plain old everyday contempt, for Christian
viewpoints, right ones or wrong ones, is the explosive matter in
fusses such as the New York Times Magazine starts
over…over not very much, really.
None of which is to say the religious bloc on the Texas
education board has its side of the controversy down letter
perfect. There doesn't seem much evidence to the effect that the
founders were prayer partners who believed themselves to be
establishing a kind of church-nation. Then as now, there was a
lot of diversity even among Christians. As Mark A. Noll, a
prominent scholar of evangelicalism, writes, "Most of the leading
founders were sincerely religious persons. At the same time, the
most influential among their number practiced decidedly
nontraditional forms of Christianity." The most religious of them
were likelier to operate on the basis of political axioms instead
of "the special insights of faith." On the eve of the revolution,
the famous Dr. Benjamin Rush of Philadelphia had complained that
"religion is at a low ebb among us…Vice and profanity openly
prevail in our city. Our sabbaths are boldly profaned by the most
open and flagitious enormities…Our young men are wholly devoted
to pleasure and sensuality…" Hardly the best argument, some of
this, for brushing in halos on the founders' portraits.
Why, then, the conservatives of the Texas education board
as state fair midway targets for liberal baseballs -- two bits a
throw? It's the condition the liberals themselves unconsciously
prescribed when, in the aftermath of the U. S. Supreme Court's
decisions outlawing bland prayers in public schools and
elsewhere, they politicized the faith question. It was a kind of
reverse reversion to the status quo of post-revolutionary times
in certain states with established churches. Legislatures had
eventually dropped those taxpayer-supported establishments. In
time that wasn't good enough. Where churches and the state once
overlapped, ministers now had to take their prayers and rituals
out of public view with a haste and thoroughness that -- to
church members -- called into question the truth of their
teaching. It was insulting. Did secularists of the ACLU stamp
think the religious were going just to kneel there and take
it?
Those who did think in this manner should not have. For
Christians seeking redress, it was off to court, off to
legislative chambers , and -- in Texas -- off to state school
board elections for redress. "Christian conservatives" constitute
now, for various purposes, a bare majority of the state board's
membership.
The people -- liberals chiefly -- who invoked the power of
government to oust religion from public places found two could
play at that little game. So it goes, on a parallel track, with
abortion. Supreme Court arrogance in snatching a complex question
from the jurisdiction of popularly elected legislators caused
resentments to grow and tempers to flare and the controversy over
unborn human life to drag on, world without end, Amen.
The best thing about the New York Times Magazine
piece -- a not-bad job, I thought, that favored the board of
education critics chiefly in the tonal sense -- was probably the
clarity it brought to the dogfight over when, and how much,
religion belongs in public school textbooks. The lofty
Times' theoretically lofty readers came on like harpies
or irritated middle-aged football fans with a little too much
beer under their belts. They screeched, they howled, they dropped
their pants in public. They reminded members of the Texas
education board that nobody you would want your daughter to marry
is listening to arguments as to the non-faith of the fathers.
Nuts and screwballs -- that's what you folks elect down in Texas!
Which isn't quite so, I am here to say with some confidence,
speaking not only as a Texan but as a high-church
Episcopalian.
Gentlemen, ladies -- remember yourselves. Please. Main
thing to remember, maybe, is what happens when, by political hook
or crook, you try to pry sensitive, complex questions, and the
means of resolving those questions, from the hands of those who
don't automatically acknowledge your intellectual superiority.
The folks tend to resent it. They find ways of going around
you.
Give me any day a Rev. Pat Robertson or even a Texas
education board member over particular commentators on the
New York Times Magazine blog, whom I could probably list
in longhand assuming you've got two or three weeks to
wait.
topics:
Culture War, Texas, Christianity