c. 2005 Religion News Service

AYLMER, Ontario _ Over three days in this community of 6,500, I talked with several dozen Canadians: all Baptists, down-to-earth folks who work hard, make good chili and are concerned about politico-religious events south of their border.

One told of visiting family in Florida and encountering a conservatism that bewildered him: a take-no-prisoners juggernaut of political, cultural and religious hostilities. One showed me an article about the right wing’s plan to force politicians to enact their narrow morality agenda. She asked, “How can this be?”

I felt affirmed in my growing unease. Something deep and ominous is happening back home. I see an unfortunate convergence of cultural trends: self-indulgent habits now essential to our economy, the blurring of reality by non-stop entertainment, attitudes of entitlement and blame replacing self-reliance and common sense, attitudes of get-mine replacing sacrifice, and now the sour smell of deceit, as in attempts to subvert a free press through payola and intimidation.

If my country is profoundly divided, I want to know why. This isn’t about an election won or lost. It isn’t about Christian fundamentalism trouncing Christian liberalism. Power always ebbs and flows. Something deeper is happening, and unless we see it and deal with it, I fear we are doomed to a holy war that could lead to substantial losses of freedom.

Let me tell you about a conversation here with four young adults, ages 28, 28, 31 and 33.

One spoke of a difficult childhood, moving away from her family’s religion, starting over in life and in faith. Growing up, she said, “I think I saw God as harsh and critical, black and thunderous.” Now that life has become more difficult, “I see God as more accepting, more loving.”

One told of a failed marriage, alienation from church, moving into new circles, not being sure whether to attempt religion again. “I want to go to a fresh place,” she said, “where they see me as I am.”

One spoke of a former church where “Christ was the center of their lives.” She misses a fellowship that believes “there are absolutes of right and wrong.”

The fourth comes to church partly out of obligation to her children, and worries about “spending so much time on institutional maintenance.”

Other than similar ages, the only common theme was their differences. Life experiences, expectations of faith and church, language for speaking of God, outlooks on the future _ all different.

Afterward, one said, “I was surprised by how different we were.”

That line is a critical clue into our deep divisions. It helps to explain how religious extremists can goad people into a morality war against broad segments of American society.

Turning us against each other works because we don’t know each other. It is a consequence of living indoors, within isolated subgroups, and in homes where reality is experienced through a television remote control. If we experience our fundamental diversity at all, it is as a nuisance, as categories that we are compelled to endure, and, more than we realize, as caricatures.

We tend to live behind barricades, especially in religion. We don’t listen to each other, we accept cartoon-level depictions of each other, we embrace negative stereotypes as if they were truth, we allow leaders to sell us on campaigns that build their power but leave us unfulfilled.

People theorize monsters into being, without actually knowing real people and discovering common worries and joys. We draw stick figures and then destroy them, as if that were godly work. We throw Scripture fragments at each other, as if shabby scholarship revealed God’s will.

We don’t know each other at any depth. Those who are goading us into holy war don’t want us to know each other. Exploiting our deepest faith yearnings only works if we stay behind the barricade.

To avoid being so easily manipulated by the powerful, we need to work at knowing each other, not just accumulating resentments against each other.

MO/JL RNS END

(Tom Ehrich is a writer and computer consultant, managing large-scale database implementations. An Episcopal priest, he lives in Durham, N.C.)