By: Paul S. Marchand
For the longest time, I couldn’t think of Rick Santorum without also thinking of a remark attributed to Voltaire: “my only prayer to God is a simple one: ‘Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.’ The Lord has granted my prayer.”
Who, after all, could take seriously the various rantings and ravings of the quondam Pennsylvania senator, whose public record seemed to be made up of such obsessional sex-centric gems as “man on dog?” Who could help but chuckle at Mr. Santorum’s so-called Google problem, even as one might have been tempted to wonder what washer setting would be the best one for getting santorum out of the bed linen.
Even after he had managed to beat Mitt Romney in the Iowa caucuses, many Americans, presumably including Mitt Romney, still viewed Mr. Santorum is nothing more than an over-the-top pre-Vatican II whack-job, whose actual chance of capturing the Republican nomination for the presidency, let alone of actually getting to the White House, was between slim and none.
I, too, shared that view.
For the longest time, I couldn’t think of Rick Santorum without also thinking of a remark attributed to Voltaire: “my only prayer to God is a simple one: ‘Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.’ The Lord has granted my prayer.”
Who, after all, could take seriously the various rantings and ravings of the quondam Pennsylvania senator, whose public record seemed to be made up of such obsessional sex-centric gems as “man on dog?” Who could help but chuckle at Mr. Santorum’s so-called Google problem, even as one might have been tempted to wonder what washer setting would be the best one for getting santorum out of the bed linen.
Even after he had managed to beat Mitt Romney in the Iowa caucuses, many Americans, presumably including Mitt Romney, still viewed Mr. Santorum is nothing more than an over-the-top pre-Vatican II whack-job, whose actual chance of capturing the Republican nomination for the presidency, let alone of actually getting to the White House, was between slim and none.
I, too, shared that view.
No longer.
As Rick Santorum has educated us out of the words of his own mouth as to the extreme nature of his views, he comes across less and less like some peculiar love child of Elmer Gantry and Fulton Sheen, and more like something we have not seen in all of our American history, the denominational demagogue who seems intent upon reducing all of America to a state of absolute doctrinal obedience to the See of Rome.
As Rick Santorum has educated us out of the words of his own mouth as to the extreme nature of his views, he comes across less and less like some peculiar love child of Elmer Gantry and Fulton Sheen, and more like something we have not seen in all of our American history, the denominational demagogue who seems intent upon reducing all of America to a state of absolute doctrinal obedience to the See of Rome.
No matter how one views the universe, such a development ought to frighten us all worse than bombs. For Mr. Santorum has clearly either forgotten or chosen to ignore the long and painful history of Roman Catholics in the United States. In 1928, Protestant voters rejected the Democratic presidential candidacy of the Happy Warrior Al Smith because they could not bring themselves to trust a Roman Catholic in the White House.
Thirty-two years later, after having adroitly and sincerely assured the American public that he would not allow the White House to become a wholly owned subsidiary of the Vatican, John F. Kennedy became America’s first, and thus far only, Roman Catholic President. But Rick Santorum (along with a disquietingly large number of U.S. Roman Catholic bishops) has repeatedly told voters he thinks Kennedy was wrong to have done so.
Worse, Mr. Santorum has gone out of his way not only to question the President’s personal theology and compare him to Adolf Hitler, but also to suggest that hundreds of millions of American Protestants are not really Christian.
The slightly ridiculous presidential wannabe of six weeks ago has now morphed into a man who causes me --- for the first time in my life as an American --- to fear not only his views and his person, but also the very church of which he is a member.
This is not how things ought to be. In Mr. Santorum’s own words, “it’s not okay,” whether on a political or personal level. On both sides of my family, I’m descended from uncounted generations of Irish Catholics, for whom the Church was not only the custodian of the way to heaven, but also of the besieged culture of the Irish nation in a time when men and women could be, and often were, hanged for the wearing of the green.
Yet I am also descended from rock-ribbed Norwegian Lutherans, staunch Welsh Nonconformists, and unconquerable freethinkers for whom the whole idea of religion was nothing more than a damn fool notion invented by the wealthy and the fleecing of the poor. Perhaps inevitably, I wound up consciously choosing to find my spiritual home in the Episcopal Church.
And because my Church centers itself midway between Rome and Geneva, walking a middle path that is both Catholic and Protestant, both holding on to the ancient traditions and deposit of faith while also participating in the Reformation, I repeat: Mr. Santorum’s astonishingly medieval and un-American views are “not okay.” There can be no room in America for a repetition of Pope Boniface VIII’s infamous 1302 bull Unam Sanctam, perhaps the most extreme, over-the-top claim of papal spiritual supremacy ever committed to writing.
No Santorum: not for president, not for senator, not for dogcatcher.
● It’s not that I find Mr. Santorum’s positions “not okay” because the Reformation is an integral part of my own Anglican faith tradition, and his ultramontane rejection of the authenticity of my faith is thus offensive to me.
● Neither is it that I find Mr. Santorum’s positions “not okay” because for an ostensibly straight man he demonstrates a weirdly obsessional interest in what queer people like me do in our bedrooms. (Rick, I hate to disappoint you, but what we do in our bedrooms often involves snoring, but as we sometimes say, “there’s gay and then there’s ‘damn curious.’”)
● Nor is it that I find Mr. Santorum’s positions “not okay,” because they insult every woman living, dead, or yet to be born, including the Virgin Mary herself, whereas I was brought up to reject that kind of antediluvian patriarchy.
● It’s not even that that I find it “not okay” that Mr. Santorum’s denominational rants are an occasion of sin because they reopen old sectarian wounds and resurrect old sectarian prejudices that should have been laid to rest generations ago.
No, what really makes me good and mad is that Rick Santorum’s every word on the subject of social issues is an utter breach of faith with his obligations as an American. His utterances have been, and will continue to be, searing and direct violations of the oaths he took (presumably invoking God’s help at the time) as Congressman, as Senator, and as lawyer.
I know a little bit about oath-taking; when I was admitted to practice law in the states of Indiana and California, I took an oath to support and defend, among other things, the Constitution of the United States. I have taken similar oaths in order to be emitted to practice in various federal courts, and I took other, also similar oaths on being sworn in as a member of the Cathedral City City Council. In none of those cases did I raise my right hand, place my left hand on a copy of the Constitution, and swear to uphold the Bible. Rather, I placed my left hand on my maternal grandmother’s copy of the King James Bible, raised my right hand, and in the presence of God and the company assembled, swore to uphold the Constitution.
Now, as much as I may know a little bit about oath-taking, I also know something about the First Amendment; in fact, I think I may know rather more about the First Amendment, or at least understand it better, then Rick Santorum will ever do. And one basic constitutional truth I very clearly understand about the First Amendment can be summed up by borrowing the words of Frederick the Great of Prussia, who once famously declared that his kingdom “everyone must get to heaven his own way.” What was true about Prussia in the 18th century is also true about America in the 21st.
Moreover, as much as I may know something about the First Amendment, I also know how easy it is for the ill considered actions of a single person to bring obloquy and contempt down upon an entire community. By way of example, I have seen how a single incident of misbehavior by a single gay man can be used by homophobes to travesty the entire gay community. I wonder if Rick Santorum has given any thought at all to how his intemperate and extremist positions have embarrassed millions of American Roman Catholics, including a whole raft of my relations. Worse, he has also disserved both the nation and his own church by doing his level worst to reawaken dormant denominational disquiets in the minds of a large part of Protestant America, and to cause many of us to reach anew for our long-unread copies of Foxe’s Book of Martyrs.
My Roman Catholic relatives, friends, neighbors, and colleagues deserve better than to have their views, and those of their Church, misrepresented by the likes of Rick Santorum. My Protestant relatives, friends, neighbors, and colleagues deserve better than to have the authenticity of their faith traditions lightly dismissed by this man.
If Mr. Santorum has not thought about the consequences of his divisive and extremist rhetoric, then he ipso jure disqualifies himself for the presidency: no man so wanting in basic judgment and understanding of foreseeable consequences should be allowed anywhere near 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. On the other hand, if Mr. Santorum is deliberately stoking the flames of denominational division, seeking to demagogue not only the bishops but also the faithful of his church, then he disqualifies himself all the more.
America, we all know, is a nation composed of persons of every faith and no faith at all. While Mr. Santorum complains that his religious freedom is in some way being infringed because he cannot impose his denomination’s dogmas and mores on those of us who do not share his views, the fact remains that the freedom of any American to practice his or her religion depends upon his or her acknowledgment that others have an equal right to practice some other religion or no religion at all.
Freedom of religion is only meaningful insofar as it also implies freedom from religion. Because Rick Santorum cannot understand that basic fact, and because Rick Santorum has managed to give himself and his denomination a bad name, and to revive those old sectarian suspicions about the intentions of the Roman Catholic Church, and because he so evidently seeks to restore in their fullest form a set of patriarchal and medieval dispensations that no longer speak to our American sense of who and what we are and ought to be, he deserves no support from any American who takes our Constitution seriously.
-xxx-
PAUL S. MARCHAND is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, California. After having his right of first class citizenship in the commonwealth questioned and his faith denigrated by Rick Santorum, he’s good and mad. The views expressed herein are his own, but if you don’t think Rick Santorum should be anywhere near the White House, you are welcome to share them, too.
Thirty-two years later, after having adroitly and sincerely assured the American public that he would not allow the White House to become a wholly owned subsidiary of the Vatican, John F. Kennedy became America’s first, and thus far only, Roman Catholic President. But Rick Santorum (along with a disquietingly large number of U.S. Roman Catholic bishops) has repeatedly told voters he thinks Kennedy was wrong to have done so.
Worse, Mr. Santorum has gone out of his way not only to question the President’s personal theology and compare him to Adolf Hitler, but also to suggest that hundreds of millions of American Protestants are not really Christian.
The slightly ridiculous presidential wannabe of six weeks ago has now morphed into a man who causes me --- for the first time in my life as an American --- to fear not only his views and his person, but also the very church of which he is a member.
This is not how things ought to be. In Mr. Santorum’s own words, “it’s not okay,” whether on a political or personal level. On both sides of my family, I’m descended from uncounted generations of Irish Catholics, for whom the Church was not only the custodian of the way to heaven, but also of the besieged culture of the Irish nation in a time when men and women could be, and often were, hanged for the wearing of the green.
Yet I am also descended from rock-ribbed Norwegian Lutherans, staunch Welsh Nonconformists, and unconquerable freethinkers for whom the whole idea of religion was nothing more than a damn fool notion invented by the wealthy and the fleecing of the poor. Perhaps inevitably, I wound up consciously choosing to find my spiritual home in the Episcopal Church.
And because my Church centers itself midway between Rome and Geneva, walking a middle path that is both Catholic and Protestant, both holding on to the ancient traditions and deposit of faith while also participating in the Reformation, I repeat: Mr. Santorum’s astonishingly medieval and un-American views are “not okay.” There can be no room in America for a repetition of Pope Boniface VIII’s infamous 1302 bull Unam Sanctam, perhaps the most extreme, over-the-top claim of papal spiritual supremacy ever committed to writing.
No Santorum: not for president, not for senator, not for dogcatcher.
● It’s not that I find Mr. Santorum’s positions “not okay” because the Reformation is an integral part of my own Anglican faith tradition, and his ultramontane rejection of the authenticity of my faith is thus offensive to me.
● Neither is it that I find Mr. Santorum’s positions “not okay” because for an ostensibly straight man he demonstrates a weirdly obsessional interest in what queer people like me do in our bedrooms. (Rick, I hate to disappoint you, but what we do in our bedrooms often involves snoring, but as we sometimes say, “there’s gay and then there’s ‘damn curious.’”)
● Nor is it that I find Mr. Santorum’s positions “not okay,” because they insult every woman living, dead, or yet to be born, including the Virgin Mary herself, whereas I was brought up to reject that kind of antediluvian patriarchy.
● It’s not even that that I find it “not okay” that Mr. Santorum’s denominational rants are an occasion of sin because they reopen old sectarian wounds and resurrect old sectarian prejudices that should have been laid to rest generations ago.
No, what really makes me good and mad is that Rick Santorum’s every word on the subject of social issues is an utter breach of faith with his obligations as an American. His utterances have been, and will continue to be, searing and direct violations of the oaths he took (presumably invoking God’s help at the time) as Congressman, as Senator, and as lawyer.
I know a little bit about oath-taking; when I was admitted to practice law in the states of Indiana and California, I took an oath to support and defend, among other things, the Constitution of the United States. I have taken similar oaths in order to be emitted to practice in various federal courts, and I took other, also similar oaths on being sworn in as a member of the Cathedral City City Council. In none of those cases did I raise my right hand, place my left hand on a copy of the Constitution, and swear to uphold the Bible. Rather, I placed my left hand on my maternal grandmother’s copy of the King James Bible, raised my right hand, and in the presence of God and the company assembled, swore to uphold the Constitution.
Now, as much as I may know a little bit about oath-taking, I also know something about the First Amendment; in fact, I think I may know rather more about the First Amendment, or at least understand it better, then Rick Santorum will ever do. And one basic constitutional truth I very clearly understand about the First Amendment can be summed up by borrowing the words of Frederick the Great of Prussia, who once famously declared that his kingdom “everyone must get to heaven his own way.” What was true about Prussia in the 18th century is also true about America in the 21st.
Moreover, as much as I may know something about the First Amendment, I also know how easy it is for the ill considered actions of a single person to bring obloquy and contempt down upon an entire community. By way of example, I have seen how a single incident of misbehavior by a single gay man can be used by homophobes to travesty the entire gay community. I wonder if Rick Santorum has given any thought at all to how his intemperate and extremist positions have embarrassed millions of American Roman Catholics, including a whole raft of my relations. Worse, he has also disserved both the nation and his own church by doing his level worst to reawaken dormant denominational disquiets in the minds of a large part of Protestant America, and to cause many of us to reach anew for our long-unread copies of Foxe’s Book of Martyrs.
My Roman Catholic relatives, friends, neighbors, and colleagues deserve better than to have their views, and those of their Church, misrepresented by the likes of Rick Santorum. My Protestant relatives, friends, neighbors, and colleagues deserve better than to have the authenticity of their faith traditions lightly dismissed by this man.
If Mr. Santorum has not thought about the consequences of his divisive and extremist rhetoric, then he ipso jure disqualifies himself for the presidency: no man so wanting in basic judgment and understanding of foreseeable consequences should be allowed anywhere near 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. On the other hand, if Mr. Santorum is deliberately stoking the flames of denominational division, seeking to demagogue not only the bishops but also the faithful of his church, then he disqualifies himself all the more.
America, we all know, is a nation composed of persons of every faith and no faith at all. While Mr. Santorum complains that his religious freedom is in some way being infringed because he cannot impose his denomination’s dogmas and mores on those of us who do not share his views, the fact remains that the freedom of any American to practice his or her religion depends upon his or her acknowledgment that others have an equal right to practice some other religion or no religion at all.
Freedom of religion is only meaningful insofar as it also implies freedom from religion. Because Rick Santorum cannot understand that basic fact, and because Rick Santorum has managed to give himself and his denomination a bad name, and to revive those old sectarian suspicions about the intentions of the Roman Catholic Church, and because he so evidently seeks to restore in their fullest form a set of patriarchal and medieval dispensations that no longer speak to our American sense of who and what we are and ought to be, he deserves no support from any American who takes our Constitution seriously.
-xxx-
PAUL S. MARCHAND is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, California. After having his right of first class citizenship in the commonwealth questioned and his faith denigrated by Rick Santorum, he’s good and mad. The views expressed herein are his own, but if you don’t think Rick Santorum should be anywhere near the White House, you are welcome to share them, too.
