Notes From D. R.

Ch-Ch-Changes

I don't think the GOP will all of a sudden try to get rid of religious and social conservatives--but if the party senses that an increasing number of voters cannot relate to what Boston talk-radio star Jay Severin sarcastically refers to as "skinny religious white guys named Chuck," the party will try to move away from social conservatism.

REALITY CHECK

Let's face it, folks: the Massachusetts Legislature will never allow a vote on the issue of same-sex marriage.

Our lawmakers will permanently prevent a vote not because they necessarily fear that gay marriage will go down to defeat, but because they are ideologically committed to the idea that gay marriage is an issue of "civil rights," and since "civil rights should never be put to a vote," the Legislature by definition cannot allow a referendum on the issue.

Opponents of same-sex marriage have argued that many of these lawmakers are simply cowards, intimidated by the perceived power of gay activists. A handful may well be. However, it should be obvious by now that a majority of the anti-vote legislators are behaving this way because they truly believe that every last person who supports the legal definition of marriage as one man and one woman does so out of anti-gay animus. They will never "let the people vote," for they feel that those who want a vote are no different from the folks who killed Matthew Shepard nearly a decade ago.

How should supporters of traditional marriage respond when the Legislature is so ideologically rigid on this issue? Gay marriage supporters would, of course, sarcastically suggest that they move out of the state. However, the real answer is to seek the electoral defeat of every elected official and candidate who feels that anyone who raises questions about same-sex marriage is a bigot. It's a hard task, to be sure--but it can be done. In fact, supporters of traditional marriage could start as soon as this November.

Faith No More

A bizarre, sad account of a haphazard attempt by Columbia Pictures to capitalize on the success of Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. William Goldman was right: "Nobody knows anything." Gibson's movie was successful with Christians and Catholics because it was made by a man who clearly took his faith seriously, and it was successful with secular audiences because it was a flat-out good movie. The Passion wasn't thrown together like this movie appears to be, with a budget that's less than half of Gibson's film and washed-up, has-been actors like Louis Gossett Jr. and Kirk Cameron--and since this film looks like a total hack job, I doubt it's going to come anywhere close to the success of Gibson's epic. Quality, people, quality!

UPDATE: Hollywood blogger David Poland weighs in.

SECOND UPDATE: A legitimate attempt to appeal to Christian moviegoers.

Religious Upbringing

In the six years since inheriting Houston’s Lakewood Church from his late father, Joel Osteen has become the country’s most visible, and most credible, religious broadcaster. His “megachurch”—now the Lakewood International Center—has approximately 30,000 members; to accommodate the holy hordes, he recently purchased the former Compaq Center sports arena. His televised sermons reach millions in over 130 countries, and his 2004 book, Your Best Life Now: 7 Steps to Living Your Full Potential is affixed to the New York Times bestseller list, with nearly 3 million copies sold.

Osteen’s sermons eschew proclamations of damnation in favor of a “You can do it because Jesus says you can” approach. While it’s obviously distasteful to compare him to Bill Clinton, one can sum up the general theme of Osteen’s sermons with the ex-President’s campaign song: “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow.” With his grins, jokes, and easygoing personality, he has almost completely erased the stereotype of the sweating, screaming televangelist established during the Jimmy Swaggart era. (To his credit and wisdom, he does not request donations on his shows.)

Osteen has been criticized for being too upbeat in his sermons, and it’s hard to deny that he comes across as Oprah reborn as a white man from Texas. However, Osteen has also received tremendous praise—from the mainstream media, which is troubling.

Last month the Boston Globe published a lengthy profile endorsing his ministry for its racial diversity (Lakewood is said to have near-equal amount of black, white and Hispanic attendees) and his refusal to engage in moral attacks (“The Scripture,” he told the Globe, “says it’s the goodness of God that causes people to repent. Jesus didn’t condemn.”) Likewise, liberal columnist Tony Norman of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette applauded Osteen because “he doesn’t parrot right-wing talking points” nor attempts to “push [viewers and parishioners] into becoming wholly owned subsidiaries of the Republican Party.”

Obviously, Osteen’s media approval is dependent upon his refusal to be a culture-war foot-soldier. However, it is neither logical nor possible for Osteen to continue positioning himself as being deaf to current socio-political tunes.

With the controversies over Roe v. Wade and court-ordered gay marriage still raging, the man who follows the Cross will soon find himself at a crossroads: does he take a clear stand against secularism and risk the opprobrium of the media? Does he firmly proclaim, as so many Catholic priests did last year, that there is one political philosophy whose objectives are clearly in tune with Judeo-Christian concepts and one political philosophy whose objectives are clearly not? Does he risk losing the support of that faction of  “cafeteria Christians” who watch his shows and attend his sermons precisely because he refuses to make moral judgments from the pulpit?

It's hard to deny that Osteen’s influence and visibility would be effective weapons in the current “culture war”. Sure, the media would place the same mask of malevolence on him that they’ve already placed on John Roberts—but at least, it would prove that he wasn’t just another pretty face.