In his article “The Great Secession” (The Atlantic, July/August), Jonathan Rauch relates a news story from St. Louis about a Christian-owned dog-walking business that refused to serve a customer who supported legalizing marijuana.
We’ve seen such discrimination in the name of religion often
in the news. A Christian photographer refused to provide services for gay
weddings. Hobby Lobby and others refused to offer insurance that covers certain
kinds of contraception. And in April, Mississippi passed legislation allowing
businesses to claim a religious defense if sued for discrimination.
Religious liberty: Such actions are taken in the name of
religious liberty, but they may have unintended consequences. By separating
themselves from the secular world (or whatever term you want to use), these
Christians are also cutting off their chances of engaging such people
(customers, employees) about their faith.
This raises the question, Are Christians more afraid of
being influenced by unbelievers than they are confident in their faith to
influence them?
Rauch states up front that as a “homosexual atheist” he
doesn’t expect religious conservatives to take his advice. But he offers it
anyway. He writes, “When religion isolates itself from secular society, both
sides lose, but religion loses more.”
With the increasing acceptance of gay marriage, many
religious conservatives feel battered and want to be left alone. Rauch asked
some people why they felt the need to hunker down. One reason is “the fear that
traditional religious views, especially about marriage, will soon be condemned
as no better than racism, and that religious dissenters will be driven from
respectable society, denied government contracts and passed over for jobs.”
Fearful: He tells about an encounter he had after a talk he gave on
free speech. A woman approached him and claimed that the school system where
she works harasses and fires anyone who questions gay marriage. “I wanted to
point out that in most states it’s perfectly legal to fire people just for
being gay,” Rauch writes, “whereas Christians enjoy robust federal and state antidiscrimination
protections, but the look in her eyes was too fearful for convincing.”
Around the turn of the millennium there was some hope of a
new partnership between our elected and religious leaders, but eventually trust
eroded, then collapsed. “Now it’s the ‘war on religion’ versus the ‘war on
women,’ and court dockets are full of religious liberty cases,” Rauch writes.
Decades ago, during the divorce revolution, writes Rauch, it
likely never occurred to Catholic bakers to tell remarrying customers, “Your
so-called second marriage is a lie, so take your business elsewhere.”
Line-drawing: Now we live in a time of drawing lines. Rauch
acknowledges that “there is an absolutist streak among some secular
civil-rights advocates” as well and that “they are too quick to overlook the
unique role religion plays in American life and the unique protections it
enjoys under the First Amendment.”
However, associating Christianity with a determination to
discriminate “puts the faithful in open conflict with the value that young
Americans hold most sacred,” he writes.
There is an alternative, Rauch points out, “a missionary
tradition of engagement and education, of resolutely and even cheerfully going
out into an often uncomprehending world.”
He warns that “the First Church of Discrimination will find
few adherents in 21st-century America,” according to polls. Social secession is
“a step toward isolation” that is “bad for society but even worse for the
religion.”
Instead Christians can act out of faith rather than fear.