Every Sunday morning around 8 a.m., a mother and father load their three sons into a minivan and drive about 20 minutes down Route 1 to meet their grandparents for the 8:30 Mass. I passed in front of the local Catholic church. When we passed my grandfather sitting at the back of the church with the other ushers, we always kissed him before joining the pew, saying, “Mama, mama.” I suspect they have been sitting in the same seat since arriving in the United States in 1955.
After Mass, our family either drove or walked a few blocks away for a short visit to my great-grandparents’ home. Pop’s emphysema prevents her from attending Mass, and Nonna would have used that time to prepare coffee and a platter of S-shaped cookies. At noon, we gathered with our extended family at my grandparents’ house for a traditional Italian Sunday meal.
This routine was the drumbeat that set the rhythm for my life. I use drumsticks in place of my grandmother’s wooden spoon. Usually stirring, sometimes threatening, but always preparing a meal to cap off a week of school and sports and a day devoted to faith and family. Faith shaped my family’s habits, which in turn shaped my own habits.
As I’ve gotten older, this has evolved into more of a moral about how I approach my roles as a husband, father, and even a citizen. It has become a standard for making daily choices based on what feels ancient. The foundation has allowed me to serve in the Marine Corps, continue to work in my community, and serve in my current role as executive director of More in Common, an organization dedicated to reducing polarization in American society. I was able to make the decision to accept it.
Religious revival?
Desiring the same grounding for our children, my wife and I moved back to our hometown several years ago and now attend the same church and sit in the same pew. I expected the seats to be more empty than they were 30 years ago and that many of the same people who were there when I was a kid would be filling them. I was surprised to see that the church was packed with many young families.
Our small church in central New Jersey began to fill up more and more in the years after we moved home. This phenomenon is consistent with trends I have noticed in my daily life. Outside of my family and a few close friends, I began to notice that religion in general, and belief in God in particular, was becoming more common in a culture that seemed overwhelmingly secular. . In the liberal Ivy League community we live in, many of our children’s public school friends attend Mass together, and many other families regularly attend other religious services. I came to know. Religion has become a more regular topic of conversation at work dinners and social events, where talking about faith would have seemed out of place a few years ago, and individual faith has become a point of shared pride rather than an object of fascination. .
But when we look at the broader culture, this conflation of faith, family, morality, and citizenship still feels anachronistic. Unlike 10 or 20 years ago, I see a culture that views faith through a partisan political lens rather than a culture that ridicules it. The national conversation about faith has come down to things like Catholics’ views on abortion and the recent conversion of some prominent right-wing politicians to our faith. The collaboration between evangelicals and Donald J. Trump. and how Democrats can balance a coalition that includes key battleground state blocs of Jewish and Muslim voters.
“incidental contempt”
More in Common, which I have been leading since May of this year, recently released a report called “Revelation of Promise: Undoing False Impressions of America’s Believers.” In a survey of 6,000 Americans, the report dispelled three core myths. that faith is becoming irrelevant in American life; And that religious Americans are intolerant. This article focuses on the first of these three myths and the harm it does to the power of faith as an American institution.
After all, most Americans turn to faith for the same reasons I do. It is for moral formation, for community, and for nurturing a relationship with God. About half of Americans feel their religion influences their political views, compared to only 6 percent who rely on their faith to express their political views. 54 percent rely on their faith to deepen their relationships with others, 24 percent rely on their faith to become part of a community, and 22 percent rely on their faith to become part of a community. Rate of inheriting family traditions.
Far more Americans think faith is all about politics than it actually is. When asked whether political party membership is the most important identity, only 4 percent of evangelicals and 10 percent of Catholics agreed, while the general public found that 41 percent of evangelicals agreed percent, estimates that 37 percent of Catholics hold these views. (Catholics report that their family role is their most important identity, while evangelicals report that their religion is their most important identity.)
These misconceptions extend to partisan politics as well. Americans estimate that 39 percent of Catholics and 55 percent of evangelicals agree that being a good Catholic (or Christian) means supporting the Republican Party; Only 20 percent of both Catholics and evangelicals agree.
This mistaken perception of the faith systems that shape our character and views on citizenship as mere political tools corrodes our national dialogue and unity. The more negative feelings non-Catholics and non-evangelicals have toward Catholics and evangelicals, the greater their misperceptions about the importance of politics and partisan identity within each faith group. We call this collateral contempt. This is a tendency for hostility toward political opponents to spill over into religious groups that are perceived (but are not) exclusively aligned with a single political team.
This is not to ignore the fact that evangelicals and, to a lesser extent, Catholics, for example, tend to vote Republican. Nor does it exempt from scrutiny believers who disregarded personal morality in voting for President Trump. This only emphasizes that we mistakenly think of the church as a political venue when it is not. Viewing faith solely through a partisan lens corrupts the power of faith and its attendant institutions to shape our people.
In his seminal study of the American character in the 19th century, Democracy in America, Alexis de Tocqueville wrote:
It is when religion does not speak of freedom that it best teaches Americans how to be free. There are countless denominations in the United States. Although we all differ in the worship we should offer to our Creator, we all agree on the duties of human beings to one another… Therefore, among Americans religion is never directly mixed into the governance of society, and therefore religion should be considered primarily in their political system. Because even if it does not give them a taste of freedom, it makes it especially easy for them to take advantage of it.
A community of faith and belief is more beautiful than a partisan war, and the morality it fosters is more essential for believers. J.D. Vance, one of the most prominent right-wing politicians to have converted to Catholicism, points out in an essay about his conversion: It is both about the heart and about the community of believers. It means going to Mass and receiving the sacraments, even if it is difficult or uncomfortable. ”
A few weeks ago, my grandparents, now in their late 80s, stopped attending Mass because of my grandmother’s debilitating Alzheimer’s disease. It’s heartbreaking, but it also confirms what I knew when we moved into the house. That means my children will be the last link between my family, who grew up kneeling in the church in Italy, and those who joined the church across the ocean. The same ancient traditions in a new world. I now cook Sunday dinner and pray that I can give my children, their children, and their children the same gift that my wooden spoon has given me.
