God, the Missouri House and
Captain Kirk
There’s a wonderful scene from Star Trek V where Captain Kirk
and his intrepid crew of rapidly aging, overweight spacefarers
encounter an entity claiming to be God. The newly-discovered
deity states his intention to commandeer the bedazzled crew’s
ship and travel forth to points unknown. Sufficiently awed, the
others on the landing party are all too compliant. But not old Kirk.
No. He has to ask a question.

“What does God need with a starship?”

Kirk’s confoundingly simple query was brought to mind recently
when I heard about Missouri General Assembly House
Concurrent Resolution No. 13, introduced by Rep. David Sater.
The commonalities between good science fiction and shaky
legislative action are often startling. Sater’s resolution reads:

“Whereas, our forefathers of this great nation of the United
States recognized a Christian God and used the principles
afforded to us by Him as the founding principles of our nation;
and

Whereas, as citizens of this great nation, we the majority also
wish to exercise our constitutional right to acknowledge our
Creator and give thanks for the many gifts provided by Him; and

Whereas, as elected officials we should protect the majority’s
right to express their religious beliefs while showing respect for
those who object; and

Whereas, we wish to continue the wisdom imparted in the
Constitution of the United States of America by the founding
fathers; and

Whereas, we as elected officials recognize that a Greater Power
exists above and beyond the institutions of mankind:

Now, therefore, be it resolved by the members of the House of
Representatives of the Ninety-third General Assembly, Second
Regular Session, the Senate concurring therein, that we stand
with the majority of our constituents and exercise the common
sense that voluntary prayer in public schools and religious
displays on public property are not a coalition of church and
state, but rather the justified recognition of the positive role that
Christianity has played in this great nation of ours, the United
States of America.”

Can I get an amen and a roll call vote?

Anyway, we can rest assured God is pleased. No doubt the
official recognition of His divine and eternal dominion as master
over all Creation by no less an august authority than the state
legislature will ease his unfathomable intellect. Certainly, it has
troubled many a theologian through the centuries. Thy kingdom
come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in the Missouri General
Assembly. It may lack poetry but the Bible wasn’t written by a
legislative body.

It’s at times such as these that one can only marvel at the words
spoken in 1960 by soon-to-be president John F. Kennedy.   

“When any man stands on the steps of the Capitol and takes the
oath of office of President, he is swearing to support the
separation of church and state,” said Kennedy. “He puts one
hand on the Bible and raises the other hand to God as he takes
the oath. And if he breaks his oath, he is not only committing a
crime against the Constitution, for which the Congress can
impeach him - and should impeach him - but he is committing a
sin against God.”

Wow! So you lose your job and go to hell for breaching the
separation of church and state. Today, that statement, made by
a candidate from either party, would be considered a dangerous
foray in the extremities of left-wing thought and a direct and
terrifying slap at millions of frightened conservative Protestants.  
What’s odd is that in 1960, this raving endorsement of the
secular basis of American governance wasn‘t delivered to the
ACLU annual meeting as a sop to the lefty base. It was part a
speech televised to heavily Protestant West Virginia, where
Kennedy was fighting a tooth-and-nail primary battle against rival
Hubert Humphrey and was made to reassure frightened
conservative Protestants that Kennedy would keep his religion
out of their government. In 1960, the idea that official imprimatur
would not be given to religious ideals wasn’t an electorally
disastrous misadventure into the vagaries of avant garde
liberalism. It was a way of letting conservative religious folks know
you weren’t going to let the Pope in on Cabinet meetings.

Now welcome to Rep. David Sater’s America. What a long
strange trip its been.

Today, the children of those Protestants so wary of Kennedy’s
Catholic roots spent most of the 2004 campaign watching John
Kerry relate humiliating vignettes about being an altar boy to try
to convince them he was Catholic enough to be president. The
worm has turned indeed. The David Saters of the world are now
manning the opposing ramparts. All of which brings us back to
the wisdom of Captain Kirk’s vital question. To paraphrase, “Why
does God need a state legislature?” Sater’s own resolution
seems to cast a spotlight on the inherent silliness of such
legislative meanderings. “Whereas,” it says, “we as elected
officials recognize that a Greater Power exists above and beyond
the institutions of mankind…”

Great. So whereas, the Missouri General Assembly was not set
up by archangels, its granting official sanction to a “Greater
Power” rests somewhere on the outer rings of absurd. What
practical effect is such a resolution supposed to entail? What
realistic goal is served by this cosmological nattering? Will God
balance the budget? Can Jesus secure that federal highway
money? How many state legislators can fit on the head of a pin?

Increasingly, such weirdness seems to spring from a strange
misapprehension of the essential purposes of government, a
dysfunction peculiar to the cultural fault line that has riven our
increasingly fractured society for the past quarter century. What
is legislative power really for? How is it used and to what end?
The Founding Fathers’ strange ideas on the subject sound so
quaint they are almost foreign to twenty-first century ears. They
believed government existed to do such mundane things as “form
a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic
tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general
Welfare and secure the Blessings of Liberty.” Such was a
practical attitude of 18th century can-do know-it-alls who didn’t
need an act of Congress to inform them what deity they believed
in. Government was a way of getting things done. It was a useful
but blunt instrument to be employed sparingly but firmly in
endeavors productive to the general citizenry. Such a pragmatic
worldview is hardly found today. America 2006 is a different sort
of animal. Government is no longer a practical device directed to
quantifiable legislative ends but rather a religious self-esteem
vehicle where majoritarians tell God His place in the pecking
order, protect the public’s right to have a crèche at city hall and
ensure that the Washington D.C. national pine tree is called by
its proper name. Legislative power no longer serves legislative
ends. Government is no longer a public policy instrument to be
molded for the useful definition of the public good. Instead of
promoting the general welfare, it promotes sectarian rock-
throwing matches. Instead of forming a more perfect union, it
forms a line at the courthouse door. When the main purpose of
government is to assure you that you’re not going to hell like your
heathen neighbors, $8 trillion dollar debts and unwinnable
military quagmires seem to recede into the ether.

And here lies perhaps the real purpose to this new age of
theological narcissism through legislative fiat. After all, if you don’
t know what government is for, it’s harder to tell when its not
doing a good job. Perhaps our leaders are pushing this new
philosophy of governance because its easier to argue over Ten
Commandments displays than to solve our healthcare crisis or
implement meaningful campaign finance reform. Perhaps a
government that is increasingly unable to provide for our
common defense or secure the blessings of liberty would rather
we argue over school prayer and whether Wal-Mart greeters say
“Happy holidays” or not.

Perhaps the Missouri General assembly should introduce an
important resolution on the role of government in religion.

“Whereas, religion is a private matter, and

Whereas, earthly institutions do not maintain jurisdiction over
matters beyond our mortal plane, and

Whereas, Greater Powers than our legislative body have not at
present sought or previously required our endorsement,

Be it resolved that the Missouri General Assembly has better
things to do with its time than debate theology.”

Where is Captain Kirk when you need him?
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