Congressional Mailbag
Congressman John Anderson, Illinois Republican, gets a lot of letters from people who say they are evangelical Christians. He’s not always happy about that mail, however. He says most evangelicals write about “the traditional don’ts”: liquor, tobacco, and pornography. Only a few write about war, peace, poverty, or civil rights.
Conversations with two others on Capitol Hill, Senators George McGovern (South Dakota) and Mark Hatfield (Oregon), bear him out: The moral issues evangelicals most often write their congressmen about are personal vices rather than broad social evils.
“I’m afraid his remarks are right,” said McGovern, a liberal Methodist whose pastor in Mitchell, South Dakota, made headlines this summer by demanding that the movie Candy be prohibited in local theaters. Mail from religious conservatives deals more with peripheral than with substantive issues. “Getting a pamphlet in the mail with a naked woman on it seems to disturb these people more than hunger or poverty,” McGovern said.
Baptist Hatfield, who receives about ten letters a day from “clearly religious people,” said many could be called “crackpot”: “People speak of their Christian commitment, then take off on a tirade, usually on petty issues, sometimes in filthy language.” He recalled one that opened by calling the senator an obscene name, then closed, “Sincerely in Christ.”
Asked to explain these tendencies—either to send scorching letters or to skirt major issues—the legislators interviewed offered somewhat different answers.
“Traditionally the church has been interested more in the petty don’ts,” said Congressman Anderson, a member of the Evangelical Free Church. “There still is a tendency for evangelicals to represent pretty parochial views. Too many Christians need a broader base of knowledge. The fact that the Bible is inspired does not mean that everything evangelicals write is. A lot of it is patent nonsense; yet uninformed housewives read it, become concerned, and send off letters about peripheral issues.”
McGovern thinks issues such as smut in the mails are “easier to identify as sinful and, certainly, safer since no one is in favor of smut.” Some of the social sins, on the other hand, “are so enormous that people just don’t recognize them. I think hunger is a terrible sin; but it’s so big that many look right by and don’t see it.”
To Hatfield, the problem stems more from “a lack of political background or orientation”—as in the old-time minister who was wise in the Scriptures and hence felt himself expert in all fields, even those about which he was ignorant. In Hatfield’s opinion, this leads to a simplistic approach.
Of course, not all narrow-issue mail is from religious people. And both Hatfield and Anderson agreed there are signs evangelicals may be gradually broadening the scope of their letters to legislators.
What kinds of political initiative are influenced by religion? Here all agreed that faith, for one thing, had influenced their social views. McGovern and Hatfield emphasized that Christ’s teachings on love had spurred their own broad support of government action to combat social ills.
“Some people say we can’t afford to deal with poverty, others that we can’t afford not to for fear the cities will blow up,” said McGovern. “To me, those arguments are secondary. If people are hungry, that’s reason enough to deal with it. Hunger in affluent America is sin, a violation of personhood.”
Hatfield, pacing the floor, his voice rising emotionally, largely agreed: “My civil-rights views resulted from studying Acts 10 (Peter’s vision of unclean beasts) and praying about it. To me, God’s words to Peter became irrefutable commands. There can be no distinction in housing, buses, or education.”
In contrast, the athletic Mizell flashed a winning, boyish smile and said he thought it important to remember not only John’s words about love but also Paul’s command that men work if they want to eat. “I’m in favor of doing all we can for those who can’t help themselves, like children and the aged,” he explained. “The Christian must have compassion even as Christ did. But those who can should work.”
Then there was Congressman Anderson, a studious attorney who speaks thoughtfully and with an air of conviction. “Religion has increased my awareness of urban problems,” he said. “It was my religion that caused me to cast the deciding vote in favor of last year’s civil-rights bill.
“At the same time, I’m theologically conservative. I believe in total depravity. So I can’t join some liberals who say, ‘Every day, every way, life is getting better and better.’ We must fight poverty; but men will always sin against God and contribute to their own impoverishment no matter what efforts we make. Sinful nature is a limiting factor. The final answers are spiritual.”
Religion also has affected each man’s attitude on war. McGovern, one of the Senate’s first Viet Nam doves, said: “I just couldn’t reconcile Viet Nam with elementary religious faith. I thought six years ago this stand would defeat me; but I decided I couldn’t live with myself if I frittered away a term just to be re-elected. So I came out against the war.”
Hatfield, also a dove, traces his opposition back to the old Sunday-school song: “Red and yellow, black and white / All are precious in His sight.” “In World War II,” he reflected, “we had been taught to hate the Japanese as slant-eyed yellow-bellies. When the war was over, I entered Japan with the occupation troops. One day we quite effortlessly found ourselves sharing sack lunches with those very Japanese we had been taught to hate.
“That was a lasting experience. For the first time I saw the universality of God. He was there too. He was no longer a white, Anglo-Saxon Republican American. Love, I found, is practical. For the life of me I can’t comprehend a Christian who thinks the answer, even to Communism, is kill, kill, kill.’ ”
There was general agreement that working on Capitol Hill brings unique chances to share one’s faith. Anderson noted opportunities to speak before widely varied groups and “point out the need of greater spiritual emphasis in our society.” Said Mizell: “The way we live every day, the way we talk, the things we participate in—these speak loudly on the Hill.”
“It’s important to remember,” added Hatfield, “that witness is part and parcel of a man’s faith. Faith has to be shared, and by the very fact that you have given a witness others come to demand more of you. That, in turn, gives you a greater responsibility here to live up to what people expect of you.”
Finally, the congressmen generally felt that faith helps at election time—if beliefs are sincere.
“Voters have to feel your faith is deeply and conscientiously held,” said Anderson. “If they’re sure of that, certainly faith is an asset.” Mizell agreed—and so did Hatfield and McGovern, though they added that no Christian should feel bound to vote for a man of political views different from his own, simply because of his faith.
“You see, you can’t really draw a Christian-non-Christian voting line,” concluded Mizell.
JAMES HUFFMAN
