

SUBSCRIBE TO OUR FREE NEWSLETTER
Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
5
#000000
#FFFFFF
To donate by check, phone, or other method, see our More Ways to Give page.


Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
To win the country back is a good thing, but to keep it is difficult, and so we need the sentiment of political atheists who refuse to bow and demand that we refuse also.
Recently a friend was asked, "What church do you go?" to which he replied he was an atheist. I heard his response and was left contemplating what does that mean today and in this historical moment. What did his declaration have to do with what we were doing on Saturday mornings on a street in Washington, DC educating and asking people to join the economic boycott against the Target corporation?
Target was one of the first companies to announce a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiative after the police murder of George Floyd. Target, being a Minneapolis-based corporation, evidently felt that it had a special responsibility to lead the country in terms of addressing racial injustice. This was until President Donald Trump came to office. Target was one of the first companies to bend its knee at the altar of the wannabe emperor, Donald Trump. Trump's attacks and demands on corporations and other entities to jettison DEI programs served as a litmus test of loyalty and patriotism. Nearly all of the other companies followed suit prostrating themselves before the gods of greed and political accommodation.
This is how dictatorial regimes work. They invent ways to distinguish the "believers" from the "non-believers," the trusted from those who cannot be trusted. Therefore, when my friend asserted boldly, proudly, and loudly that he was an atheist I was left to make a historical connection with what that meant in this heated political moment, and also what did that mean to me—a church person most of my life. "I am an atheist," he asserted, and that caused me to wonder what does that have to do with us boycotting Target these many months, and whether there was a historical correlation between what he was declaring and what we were doing?
After some time, I turned to my friend reflecting upon the history of the term atheist, and I shared that the term atheist was used in the first century CE to label and castigate those who would not participate in emperor worship or the trappings of all of the other Roman gods and goddesses. An atheist was a person that did not worship Caesar. The Caesars were generally deified, and the worship of Caesar and all of the Roman array of deities served as a test of loyalty. Those who fell into line and worshiped Caesar were loyal and patriotic, and those who resisted the test were seen as a threat. Early Christians were generally labelled atheists because they refused to worship the things of Caesar, and they generally resisted the Roman social order. It is rumored that John who wrote the letter Revelation, not the John of the gospel, was exiled to the Isle of Patmos for his refusal to "Hail Caesar" or worship all of the other trappings of the Roman order. I reminded my friend that he was standing in a time and place where his declaration, "I am an atheist" could mean something more than the fact that he did not believe in God. Without him even knowing, he was declaring the same sentiments that were stated in the first century that separated the believers from the non-believers. The non-believers refused to accept the false gods, deities of human making, and the trapping of those gods for the sake of money, position, and power.
Without honest critique and cynicism coming from non-believers not seduced by the Democrat-Republican beauty contest, or the quixotic notions of an independent candidate, we will find ourselves in this predicament again.
Given those historical facts it made sense as to why we were on the street in front of a Target store boycotting the business and urging others to do the same. We were doing historically what the atheists of the first century did, challenging the acquiesce to power and governments, and the business entities and people that have surrendered their dignity to satisfy the gluttonous appetite of a king. We have been demanding that Target and other corporations stop genuflecting at the throne of Caesar.
So, I was ecstatic over the "No Kings" rallies and marches held across the country. I could smell an aroma of atheism in the crowds. The marches declared that in America there are "No Kings," no Caesars, and no emperors. The marches confronted king Trump with the fact that people were not bowing or honoring the trappings of this Caesar-King. The marches across the country and in some cities overseas were a statement that for this moment some people were not bowing before this king. But even with the celebrations of the numbers of people and cities responding to the "No Kings" sentiment there were fears and perils that became apparent at least for me. I began to worry what would happen after the marches were over? What would happen after this administration is driven out and its power has faded? Will people bow before a new king—one of their liking?
This is why we need seasoned and committed political atheists who will demand that we not be seduced into the courtyards of this king or any new king. Democracy is fragile, and people can easily be fooled by the charms of charlatans. We need political atheists with their cynicism to shock us by reminding us not to be seduced in any way or any season by any king. Without honest critique and cynicism coming from non-believers not seduced by the Democrat-Republican beauty contest, or the quixotic notions of an independent candidate, we will find ourselves in this predicament again. We need our political atheist who will sound the alarm of the dangers of a king lest we become beguiled and seduced again by the flash and form of a new snake-oil dealer. We will have to march and march, demonstrate and demonstrate to hold on to our country. The demagogues and charlatans, like the people currently in the White House and administration, as well as the would-be kings of our liking, know how easily the country can be hijacked.
The average American citizen is a cultural believer worshiping the myths of goodness and benevolence, believing that it will do the right thing if the right king is at the helm. And, after the right person gets in, we can go back home and allow the "good" king to do the good things for us. We generally have placed our trust in the goodness of the American structures, but glaring before us is the reality that Congress and the Supreme Court as our protectors may not be the case. We have just seen how Congress and the Supreme Court can also prostrate themselves at the altar of political expediency. The political atheists however call us to be cynical, remain alert, remain in the streets, protest even when so-called "Good Kings" fill the so-called "Good Structures" of democracy, and to march on the king even when we like the king, but never again to prostrate ourselves before the throne of political satisfaction. To win the country back is a good thing, but to keep it is difficult, and so we need the sentiment of political atheists who refuse to bow and demand that we refuse also.
My friend caused me to appreciate the atheism that does not believe, that doubts, that questions, and does not fall into line. That is an important political posture to have at all times. The Christians of the first century were called atheists and were considered subversives because they did not salute the emperor or the emperor's men, but pushed toward a higher order, and so must we. But this is our calling not only today as we challenge and resist emperor Trump, but in all political seasons, and with all people aspiring to be king.
We need to call this what it is: a sham, a joke, a mendacious misuse of the fundamental American principle of religious liberty meant to lay the groundwork for the obscene Christian Nationalist policies this administration wants to implement.
As a kid, I’d ask to stay up late to watch the Celebrity Apprentice.
Donald Trump was a master of putting washed-up celebrities in absurd situations: Kevin Jonas fighting with Geraldo Rivera over a TV commercial for a digital scanner. Clay Aiken and Penn Jillette arguing over how to manage a distracted and frenetic Lou Ferrigno while trying to film a viral video to promote a spray mop.
Trump’s latest celebrity sideshow—featuring Dr. Phil and a former Miss USA runner-up, is the federal government’s “Religious Liberty Commission.” It’s about religious liberty in the same way the Celebrity Apprentice was about business. Which is to say, in name only.
It’s sad, because as someone who runs a nonprofit that protects atheists, agnostics, and other religious minorities from discrimination, I can imagine a Religious Liberty Commission that could actually do something useful. Houses of worship have to deal with the constant threat of gun violence. People still get discriminated against at work for not participating in group prayers. Kids still get proselytized in public school.
A Religious Liberty Commission that was truly interested in ensuring that every single person in America has the right to follow whatever religious tradition is right for them—or none at all—could be a great thing.
When Trump says he wants America to be “more religious”... What he wants, it appears, is more people who worship a specific type of Christianity—the kind of conservative Evangelical Christianity that is increasingly loyal to and organized behind him.
But that’s not the Religious Liberty Commission we got. Instead, we have Dr. Phil rambling about a “cultural war,” former Miss USA runner-up Carrie Prejean bemoaning that “morality has dropped across America” since we took a 430-year-old Christian textbook called the New England Primer out of schools, and eleven other right-wing Christians (and one right-wing rabbi) interviewing guest speakers who call atheists “demonic” and insist that government’s proper role is to promote “public recognition of truths about divine realities.”
In other words, it’s the state’s job to tell you God is real.
This isn’t new. Even before he started trying to plug a Christian prayer app with in-app purchases in his speeches, Trump said "we’re bringing religion back to America” and has explicitly written that he wants to make America “more religious.”
On Trump’s commission, Dr. Phil and Miss Not-Quite-USA are flanked by third-rate religious scholars who insist our Founders—who fought a war to break away from an empire with a state religion and immediately declared that America would have no such thing, ever—intended for America to be a religious nation from the very beginning, citing a vague reference to a “Creator” in the Declaration of Independence.
That would have been news to the Declaration’s author, Thomas Jefferson, who coined the term “wall of separation between church and state” and famously said “the opinions of men are not the object of civil government, nor under its jurisdiction.”
To understand why the Founders were so preoccupied with protecting religious freedom, it’s worth considering what exactly Trump means by “more religious.” This is, after all, a man who called an Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde a “so-called Bishop” and “not very good at her job” when he disliked her sermon, who publicly agreed with one of his cronies that Doug Emhoff was a “crappy Jew,” who misquotes the Bible and compared it to “a great, incredible movie.”
When Trump says he wants America to be “more religious,” he doesn’t mean more of Mariann Budde’s Christianity, or Doug Emhoff’s Judaism. What he wants, it appears, is more people who worship a specific type of Christianity—the kind of conservative Evangelical Christianity that is increasingly loyal to and organized behind him.
We’re going to see the right-wing Christians on the commission argue that our tax dollars should be used to push their religion on other people’s kids.
The Commission’s membership tells the story. Thirteen right-wing Christians and a token right-wing rabbi. No effort to include any of America’s other minority faiths—Islam, Unitarian Universalism, Buddhism, or Hinduism. And absolutely no representation for the 30% of Americans who aren’t religious at all, but face discrimination for their nonbelief. Trump put Penn Jillette—a famous atheist and advocate for church-state separation—on the Celebrity Apprentice twice, but somehow lost his number when it was time to cobble together the Religious Liberty Commission.
So if the Religious “Liberty” Commission is a sham, why make a big deal about something so asinine?
Because just as the Celebrity Apprentice helped Trump make the argument that he was a successful businessman people could trust, the Religious Liberty Commission is designed to make arguments for several key policies that have nothing to do with religious liberty—and everything to do with making America a Christian Nationalist hell on earth.
For instance: multiple speakers at the first Religious Liberty Commission meeting, including Lieutenant Governor of Texas Dan Patrick, argued that historically—before things like Social Security and Medicare—social services were provided not by the government but by religious institutions. The subtext was clear: the government shouldn’t be doing things like taking care of the sick and elderly; the church should.
Rather than focusing on how to teach kids math and science, we’ll focus on teaching them that gay people and religious minorities—maybe even their own families—are going to Hell.
Multiple other speakers used the specific language of “unjust laws.” But religious institutions have claimed—and Trump’s Supreme Court has backed them up—that “unjust laws” include things like…paying into unemployment benefits for their own employees. We’re going to see the Trump administration create more and more “religious” exemptions to laws that are meant to protect consumers or employers—where anyone’s claim to being religious becomes a “get out of jail free card” to mistreat your workers or discriminate against consumers.
Finally, the first Commission meeting was hyper-focused on prayer and Christian teaching in schools. We’re going to see the right-wing Christians on the commission argue that our tax dollars should be used to push their religion on other people’s kids. Rather than focusing on how to teach kids math and science, we’ll focus on teaching them that gay people and religious minorities—maybe even their own families—are going to Hell.
The commission’s latest meeting took place Monday, September 29th—150 years, to the day, after President Ulysses S. Grant gave a speech declaring that America should “leave the matter of religion to the family altar, the church, and the private school…keep the church and state forever separate”—what can we do now?
We can’t stop Trump from putting on celebrity sideshows. It’s what he’s done his whole career.
But we can call it what it is: a sham, a joke, a mendacious misuse of the fundamental American principle of religious liberty meant to lay the groundwork for the obscene Christian Nationalist policies this administration wants to implement, which would fundamentally change America by making us the kind of religious government our founders fled and fought.