God Matters           

by Eileen Flanagan

Recently at my Quaker meeting, a man felt moved to rise out of silent worship to say that he was having a hard time understanding why many Christians were so angry at the idea of health care reform. He cited Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan -- which teaches care for those in need even when they are from a different tribe -- and the Gospel passage where Jesus suggests that the key to getting into heaven is to feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, care for the sick, and visit the imprisoned. Implied was a question many spiritual progressives have been asking: how can people who say they follow Jesus be so opposed to caring for the poor?

Op-ed pages are abuzz with editorials speculating on the role of racism. Without disagreeing with them, I want to highlight another aspect of the division in our country: our differing images of God.

George Lakoff, a Professor of Cognitive Science and Linguistics who has written for Tikkun about the importance of "framing" issues, has described "the politics of authority" and "the politics of empathy" as competing moral systems that co-exist within most of us, though we may tend toward one or another. An authority mindset values self-discipline, obedience, and personal responsibility, while an empathy mindset values caring for one's neighbor, whether through personal charity or government programs. A sick woman without a green card is an "illegal alien" who deserves what she gets, or she is the very "least of these" that Jesus instructed his followers to care for, depending on how you think about morality.

These contrasting moral visions often correspond to differing images of God. According to Lakoff, those who believe in a distant, judging father are more likely to want a distant government that enforces certain basic rules and doesn't bail out those who have been unsuccessful in what is presumed to be a meritocracy. If you don't have insurance, this model asserts, you probably aren't worthy. Those who try to help the "illegal alien" are themselves subverting the divine order, which may help explain why the issue of health care for people in the US illegally has incited such wrath in conservatives. In contrast, those who believe in a benevolent, less patriarchal Creator are more likely to be motivated by compassion and empathy, willing to care for any people, as they believe God cares for them. These findings are confirmed by Catholic priest and sociologist Andrew Greeley, who has found that having a more loving, compassionate image of the Divine makes people more likely to vote Democratic, even after adjusting for other factors, like age, gender, and education level.

My own research confirms that our image of God shapes how we think. When I began interviewing people for The Wisdom to Know the Difference: When to Make a Change -- and When to Let Go, I was intrigued to hear people from diverse traditions say that expanding their concept of the Divine changed their lives. Some were raised to believe in a strict father-God whom they feared. Others, having rejected that image, didn't believe in anything greater than themselves until a crisis sent them scrambling for faith. For both groups, coming to believe in a benevolent Higher Power brought a sense of peace that freed them from previous anxieties. In the words of the Serenity Prayer, from which the book takes its title, they found it easier to accept the things they could not change and to change the things they could. For some, this meant trying to change the world for the better.

Social engagement often flowed out of spiritual growth. A rabbi, who had grown up in a secular Jewish family, described coming to believe that the sacred could be found in each person, which inspired her work with prisoners. A cattle rancher who had grown up in an evangelical Christian church had a spiritual crisis that led him to let go of his fear of being judged, finding instead a faith based on compassion. When the travel business he founded started to make millions, he put all the profits into microloans to poor people, earning Paul Newman's "most generous business award." Another woman, who came to trust a Higher Power through a 12 Step program after being homeless herself, went on to become an outspoken and effective advocate for older adults with mental health issues. She sums up her spiritual beliefs today by saying, "There is no separation. Whether it is in Darfur, or France, or Swaziland, or Georgia, if it affects [one person], it affects me."

An awareness of our interconnectedness is part of what spiritual progressives have to offer in the current national debate over the role of government. While secular liberals make logical arguments about the economics of health care, we can engage the language of morality and metaphor, which Lakoff argues is ultimately more effective than logic. Instead of insisting that "illegal aliens" won't get so much as a Band-aid, we should change the debate -- speaking of the Good Samaritan and the God of Hebrew Scripture who judges the unjust. Although we are often less comfortable than conservatives talking about God-aware that the mystery is unnamable and reluctant to impose our image on others-we should not shy away. By lifting up the image of a compassionate Creator, we can help foster the ethos of interconnectedness and mutual care that runs through all religions and that is needed to heal the world.

Eileen Flanagan is the author of The Wisdom to Know the Difference: When to Make a Change -- and When to Let Go, recently released from Tarcher/Penguin. She is the Assistant Clerk of her Quaker meeting and teaches at the University of the Arts in Philadelphia.