I agree with Rob that the Pope's call for "an acknowledgment of Europe's Christian heritage in the EU Constitution" takes place in the context of an increasingly dishonest (in ignoring Christianity's formative influence), and not merely secular, culture. Some might defend the present Pledge, though, precisely to forestall the "forgetting" we see going on in Europe.
Also, does it matter for Michael and Rob that the Pope (I assume) believes not merely that Europe should acknowledge Europe's historical roots in Christianity, but that Europe should re-Christianize, too? Doesn't the Pope desire "ongoing normative assertion[s]", too?
And, while Rob and I agree that an opinion reversing the Ninth Circuit on the ground that "under God" is meaningless should hardly be welcomed by believers, it is not clear to me, as a normative matter, that the "framework of Establishment Clause jurisprudence," such as it is, matters much. That the term "under God" -- understood as bearing some meaning -- sits uneasily with O'Connor-ism indicts the latter more than the former, it seems to me.
I'm still not sure what to think about the Pledge case. The Constitution, correctly understood, permits the current form, for better or worse. It seems to me that "under God" is defensible as a rough-and-ready claim about our founders' vaguely theistic orientation, and perhaps also as an aspiration. The danger, though, as Rob has explained persuasively, is that the term becomes a source of national self-satisfaction, even idolatry, and distracts from our national failings.
Rick
Michael has asked whether the Pope's call to include an acknowledgment of Europe's Christian heritage in the EU Constitution is similar to the inclusion of religious references in our public documents, including the pledge of allegiance. At least as far as the inclusion of "under God" in our pledge, I believe the Pope's call is a fundamentally different and more defensible example of religion's entry into the public square. The course and tenor of the EU Constitution and pledge controversies speak volumes about the wildly divergent conceptions of church and state in Europe and America.
I have yet to read a coherent -- much less compelling -- argument as to why the EU Constitution must be devoid of any reference to Christianity's formative role in the very existence of Europe. It seems that European secularism is rapidly morphing into a worldview that not only privatizes religion, but attempts to pretend that it doesn't exist at all. (See February posts discussing French ban on religious garb in schools.)
The pledge is a different story. Read in plain context, "under God" is not a reference to the founders' beliefs, but an ongoing normative assertion. As such, the secularist objection must be taken seriously. Indeed, as I've posted on earlier (see "Discomfort with the Pledge," Mar. 25), to overcome the secularist objection and remain within the framework of Establishment Clause jurisprudence, one must almost unavoidably give offense to those of us who take religious utterances seriously.
Rob
Yale Law School's Professor Stephen Carter delivered this year's Rosenthal Lectures at Northwestern University School of Law. Professor Carter's lectures (given over the past three days) were called "Inconvenient Lives: Just War Theory, Nationalism, and the Rhetoric of Killing." I was able to attend the first two lectures, and was both entertained and challenged. I cannot do justice to Carter's arguments here. His aim, I think, was not so much to apply classical just-war principles to the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq (though my sense is that many in the audience wanted him to, and came to the talks already convinced of the conclusion to which such an application would lead). Instead, he challenged his audiences to think about the several ways in which "nationalism" (which he distinguished from "patriotism") and consequentialism cloud purported "just war" arguments -- on "both sides" -- in our public square.
What was particularly inspiring, for me, was Professor Carter's very candid statement that he comes to this subject -- i.e., just-war theory -- not as a theorist or lawyer, but "as a Christian." Since I work at Notre Dame Law School, such a statement did not surprise me the way it (evidently) surprised many of Carter's other hearers. At one point, during a question-and-answer session, Professor Carter was asked, "what would you think about just-war theory if you did not subscribe to that particular ideology (i.e., Christianity)"? Professor Carter remarked, "I don't know. I would not be me if I were not a Christian." This exchange was delightful, I thought. With no rancor or defensiveness, Professor Carter simply refused to play the Rawlsian game of "religion as a hobby," or to pretend that we either can or should be expected to "check our faith at the door" when we think about fundamental questions of justice.
Rick
