Trying to answer the unanswerable questions

MICHELE MARR

After the results of the recent presidential election, I called my

sister Tammy, a rare Kerry-Edwards supporter in a pocket of Michigan

Bush country, to share my sympathy and express my surprise that Bush

had actually won the presidency this round. Like Kerry’s campaign, I

was never convinced he could.

The faith thing, said my sister. It was the faith thing.

I took a deep breath and considered the idea, not for the first

time, and told my sister I wasn’t sure it really is that simple.

Maybe not, she said and laughed.

When it comes to the faith thing, she can be a little touchy, so I

left it at that.

Three weeks before the election, when I accompanied my mother to

visit Tammy and her family, all over her conservative neighborhood,

Bush-Cheney signs stood on well-groomed lawns under trees aflame with

fall, disturbing the natural beauty and my sister’s peace.

She praised Kerry and John Edwards and passed judgment on Bush and

Dick Cheney throughout our visit. But even as we watched the final

debate between the two presidential candidates, she never ventured to

ask my mother or me how we were going to vote.

We were on the plane returning home when my mother told me my

sister’s 20-year-old daughter Kellen, during a few minutes when they

happened to be alone, asked her how each of us planned to vote.

My mother told Kellen she was undecided. As for how I’d vote, she

told my niece she’d best ask me, though she ventured to guess I’d

vote for Bush. To which Kellen gasped and replied, “Gramma! Is Aunt

Michele richer than we are?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea, although I was dismayed to

think my niece didn’t know my character, much less my economic status

and lifestyle, any better than that. Could she really think if I were

richer than her and her grandmother, that I would cast my vote solely

to protect my wealth?

If I was shocked by my niece’s rash question to my mother, I’ve

been nearly as shocked by the body of post-election analysis. We seem

these days to be a nation of such misgivings and suspicions.

“Moral values voters,” identified in surveys and commentary as

conservative, evangelical Christians, are suspected of swinging the

election. Some voices are crying foul, calling for better separation

of church and state.

If it is conservative, evangelical Christians who compose the sole

group of moral values voters, is that to say the values of anyone who

voted for Kerry fall short of being moral?

What about those who are as fervent in their faith yet voted for

Kerry because they believe the war with Iraq is immoral, does it mean

that we are negligent in caring for those who Jesus called “the least

among us,” and that we are running roughshod on the Earth?

What about those who, like my sister and my niece, claim no

religious affiliation at all?

Most of the surveys I’ve seen and the analyses I’ve read over

these last two weeks seem bent on crafting pigeonholes for various

people, while thoughtful discussion of so many of the issues at the

heart of our public contentiousness goes begging.

Over the weekend, I watched Bill Moyer, on his weekly program

“NOW,” frame one such issue as a question posed to Sister Joan

Chittister, a Roman Catholic activist for issues of social, economic

and political injustices, which she believes so plague our country.

“Why,” Moyer wondered, “is abortion a higher moral issue [for some

Christians] than the invasion of Iraq?”

It’s a good question that went unanswered because Moyer asked it

and Chittister received it, as though the question itself proved a

point. No further discussion or articulation needed.

So many of the questions on issues said to now divide these United

States are posed this way -- when posed at all.

How can someone believe that embryonic stem cell research,

unrestricted access to abortion and assisted suicide are wrong, yet

support the death penalty?

How can someone believe the Bible teaches that sex between two

people of the same gender is a sin and not be homophobic gay-bashers?

How can a Christian put a very high priority on taking care of the

Earth and its natural resources and not be, or become, a pagan?

How can someone be liberal in faith or in politics, and not -- as

Bob Jones suggested in his recent letter to the President liberals do

-- hate Christ?

If you’re wealthy, can you honestly have much concern for the well

being of those who are less flush?

I hear these and other questions bantered a lot, posed, as Moyer

posed his question, as though it is its own answer.

God help us all concede, it rarely is that simple.

Toward the end of her conversation with Moyer, Chittister told him

that she believes each of us should become part of the discussion of

these often-divisive issues, any way we can.

For all our sakes, I hope we do.

* MICHELE MARR is a freelance writer from Huntington Beach. She

can be reached at [email protected].