U.S.A. -- Has religion forgotten how to accept others?

Creating a law that would ensure that people can follow their religious beliefs without being "substantially burdened" by government would seem to be a worthy use of the time and efforts of a government's elected representatives.

In fact, Congress did just such a thing, and President Bill Clinton signed the legislation into law, back in 1993.  It was called the Religious Freedom Restoration Act.  It states that the Federal government may not "substantially burden" a person's religious pursuits, with certain exceptions which, after two decades, have stood the test of time as not being burdensome.

So what's all the fuss about over the similarly-named laws being legislated in Indiana and Arkansas?

What's up with religion in Indiana and Arkansas?

Skipping over the legalistic wording, it boils down to this:  The two states' laws are written in such a way that they say, in effect, that the objectionable burden at issue can arise not only from state laws, but also from legal actions--that is to say, lawsuits--from individuals.

As a result of enacting these laws--as originally written--businesses in these states would be shielded from anti-discrimination lawsuits if they were to assert that their discriminatory practices were part of their sincere religious beliefs.

It turns out that a lot of businesses are objecting to these laws, saying that they are blatantly discriminatory and unsavory.  As a result, the laws' proponents have gotten themselves all worked-up and stressed-out over explaining that the laws are not discriminatory but are still needed to protect religion.

What "sincere religious beliefs" are at stake here?  The laws don't get that specific, nor are they specific about the meaning of "substantially burdened."  However, there is no secret that the current culture wars have to do with discrimination based on sexual orientation.  The predecessor conflict--that of discrimination based on race or ethnicity--has long been settled, at least in a legal sense.

This culture conflict might as well get legally-settled in the same way, too, and done as soon as possible. If history is any guide, it won't be the last one, and there's no reason why it should drag on any longer than necessary.

Elephants in the room

There are a few obvious questions that should be asked at this point.  First, why should an act of discrimination that is based on sexual orientation be treated any differently than one that is based on race or ethnicity?  Second, is there a need to legally protect Christian religious beliefs?  Third and final -- if there is a problem, how can it be solved?

The answer to the first question, for most people, is that there is no reason to treat the one type of discrimination any differently from the other.  There is still a remnant of the population that believes sexual orientation is a choice and not an indelible, natural part of a person--such as racial characteristics--but science and daily interpersonal contact says otherwise, and convincingly so.

Depressingly for those who think sexual orientation to be a choice, they then must confront the reality that religious beliefs are a choice, too.  One person's choice should not be forced on another.  A Christian business does not refuse a Jew as a customer, or does not conduct business so as to impose Christianity on the customer; the Jewish customer does not try to force his or her religious choice on the business.

The advocates for the legislation in these two states know these things.  They want these laws as a way of protecting their Christian religious beliefs.  That they might cause some harm to others--it seems that discrimination always ends up causing harm to those against whom it is aimed--does not seem to be a consideration.

Is such protection needed?  People are entitled to hold their religious beliefs; no question about that.  But laws for protection are justified only when there is some harm against which to be protected.  If, for example, same-sex couples or couples-to-be have the intent of harming others who do not share their sexual orientation, then that's news that hasn't hit the headlines yet.  What harm could be inflicted on Christianity--or any religion--by a business conducting its affairs with paying customers of any sort?  Nothing comes to mind, not even an outlandishly humorous parody.

And then there's the fact that over three-quarters of the American population identifies itself as Christian.  Shall we talk about insecurity now?

What's the problem?

No, the problem isn't insecurity. In fact, it's not clear to me that there is a problem.  That is, if a problem is defined as a situation that requires some sort of action so as to allow a positive action to proceed to a desirable conclusion, then it's not clear that there is a religious problem that requires a solution.

The legal problems of discrimination were solved decades ago, even if not all the attendant problems of individual attitudes were solved; those seem to need some more time.  Certainly, the legislation at issue in Indiana and Arkansas add nothing constructive to the Civil Rights Act.

And, we don't seem to have any description of potential harm to religion that would be prevented by these two states' legislative efforts.

Also, a super-majority should not, and probably doesn't, have a problem with insecurity.

It's a puzzle.

Especially to someone who thinks that we can gain from learning about our differences.  No matter how good we are, there's always something that can be added to achieve improvement, and many of those additional things come from people who are different from ourselves and from those with whom we normally associate.

Among other experiences, church-going helped me to learn that.

Sunday school lesson

It was about 1970, and I was active in a church youth group.  We were a little scruffy, but well-behaved and curious.  Our pastor was a fine young fellow, probably a little shy of 30 years of age, perhaps a little hyper-active, but with the kind of energy that was deliberately channeled into meaningful thoughtfulness that could be throttled up or down as needed.  Let's call him The Youth Pastor, or TYP for short.

One day we got ourselves into a conversation about how the world was mostly occupied by people who were different from us.  In hindsight, that's a pretty simple revelation, but at the time it seemed consequential.  Here we were, a bunch of suburban, middle-class white kids in a United Methodist Church, and all of a sudden we had a "Wow!" moment:  most of the world was different from us!

How we arrived at that point of sublime understanding is beyond recollection; too many years have passed.  We were all products of the '60s, so the process must have depended as much on rock-and-roll music as it did on spirituality, and for one or two in the group there might have been a small amount of chemical additive used as a thought-catalyst.

TYP took the bull by the horns.  He probably didn't care much about how our neurons were firing away, but he cared a lot about what could be done with the synaptic results before they were buried too deeply by the inevitable onslaught of neuron misfires that is characteristic of the age group.

Within a week or two he announced, "Let's do something to get to know some of The Others, these different kinds of people."  And so he arranged a couple of nearby journeys for us -- one to a Catholic church in the Downey area for Mass, and another for a music service and dinner at the Hare Krishna temple in Laguna Beach.

Neither one of these encounters measured high on anybody's scale for exoticism.  There were Catholics all over the place in Southern California then, as well as now.  We were all aware that John Kennedy had been our nation's first Catholic president, and we were knowing in why that was significant.  The Mass was a new experience, of course, and there were a few more Latinos present than was typical in a Methodist service.  The Hare Krishna service and evening meal were unusual, but everybody was friendly and welcoming, and by the early '70s we had become accustomed to seeing the chanting ones in various public places anyway.

It was a couple of good learning experiences.  Because. . .

. . .Great Jumpin' Jehosaphat, they were all harmless!  Different, yes, but not out to get us in any way.

We had met The Others on their home turf.  They easily accepted us--even though they knew we were not good candidates for conversion, in either case--and we, too, readily accepted them.  Vive le difference, as the French say.

TYP was a sly one.  Learning about different kinds of people is a good thing; accepting them with their differences is a great thing.  Helping his little flock of youngsters to gain those milestones was an accomplishment.

The Age of Aquarius -- continuing?

For churches and church youth groups of the time, this behavior was not unique.  Bigotry and discrimination abounded, of course, but the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act were only a few years old at that point, and we--that is, the youth of the time--felt that achieving the promises of the future would depend, at least in part, on accepting people who we might look at as Others.  Live and let live.  Everybody has their own space.  Equality for all.  Vive le difference.  We might have sung Kumbaya with the Krishnas, but how could we know for sure, and why would it matter to know for sure?  (We couldn't, and it didn't.)

There are many churches, synagogs, mosques, temples and religious people who accept the differences of others.  But, if the current politics of religion as on display in Indiana and Arkansas are any indication, there are far too many who apparently do not possess the abilities of acceptance that were learned by some, and should have been learned by all, decades ago.

Different people are really just folk.  Being different is not a cause of harm.  That's all there is to it.  Anybody who doesn't think so should find somebody who is different and then spend some time together.  Go to church together, sing together, get some good wine, martinis or beers or go smoke a joint together; it doesn't matter all that much how it's done, it just needs to be done.

Perhaps lack of acceptance is not the problem for some.  For others, acceptance might not be possible.  Or maybe it seems naive.  But it doesn't require all that much effort, and so it seems worth a try.

Getting to know the other is the first step, and it's a big one, but it can be done in small and mundane ways.  Acceptance usually comes pretty easily after that.

And then there's no need to stress out over getting unnecessary laws passed.