One Nation Under a Coke Can

You know, I generally try to keep political views out of my posts. This little rest stop on the internet was never meant to be a social commentary on current events; there are plenty of sites out there for that, and they do it much better than I could ever possibly do it.

However, there are some things that really tick me off, and sometimes I feel the need to rant. This is one of those times.

(And yes, I am aware of the fact that this is a very poor choice of day to spout my liberal political views. Let's just say that I'm exercising my right as an American to think independently. That's patriotic, right?)

As nearly everyone knows at this point, the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals ruled last week that reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in schools is unconstituional because of the inclusion of the words "one nation under God." The outrage was predictable. The Senate passed a resolution 99-0 "expressing support for the Pledge" and calling the ruling "stupid" and "outrageous." House Speaker Dennis Hastert remarked, "Obviously, the liberal court in San Francisco has gotten this one wrong. Of course, we are one nation, under God. The Pledge of Allegiance is a patriotic salute that brings people of all faiths together to share in the American spirit."

Um, no. We are not one nation under God. By using the term "God," the Pledge has immediately ostracized people who don't follow a Judeo-Christian path. Atheists are not part of one nation under God. Agnostics are not part of one nation under God. People who do not subscribe to a monotheistic masculine gendered view are left out in the cold by this statement. I was under the impression that one of the tenets that this country was founded upon was religious freedom, which I always intrepreted as not endorsing any particular form of worship. But those two words essentially send the message of my god is better than your god (or gods, or goddess, and if you don't believe in anything... well I don't know what to tell you. Sinner.)

Pretty much every message board I've visited in the last week has been fervently discussing this topic, and one of the suggestions that has been put forth is that anyone offended by saying the Pledge should just opt out. After all, no one's forcing you to say it, right? Wrong. And wrong again. Even in cases where a student would be allowed to opt out, I don't believe that many students would even think about that option. The last thing any elementary student wants to do is stick out like a sore thumb every morning in homeroom. Hell, most students just learn it by rote without even thinking about what it is they're saying every morning. Does your average first grader know what "indivisible" means?

Sure, sure. I hear you. Let's teach them about the Pledge, then! Perhaps that would be a good idea, since we could then explain why the phrase "under God" was added in the first place. (As has been noted quite frequently lately, it was added in 1954 to separate us from the godless communists.) Perhaps we could also teach that there was also no mention of "the United States of America" in the original draft as well. Maybe we could start by educating our politicians, since it seems some of them are greatly in need of a history refresher course. (Sen. Kit Bond, R-Missouri, stated,"Our Founding Fathers must be spinning in their graves. This is the worst kind of political correctness run amok." Um, excuse me, Senator Bond, but our Founding Fathers had nothing to do with the phrase in question, or indeed the Pledge itself, since it wasn't written until 1892.)

Religion (or the lack thereof) is a very personal thing. I have no problems with what anyone chooses to believe, unless they try to tell me that I should believe it too. I worked actively in my university's Film Society when we screened both Jean-Luc Godard's Hail Mary, and Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ, and our office received many protest calls from people that thought we were heathens and blasphemers who should be lynched on Fountain Square. When I worked in a department store years ago, I had people invite me to Bible studies while I was ringing up their lingerie purchases. A few weeks ago, someone was leaving Jack Chick tracts in the public restrooms in my office building. (I personally find Chick tracts to not only be tasteless and tacky, I think they're a really lazy way to witness. And the small-minded views expressed in them scare the hell out of me.)

Sheesh. At least when I occasionally attended Mass with my boyfriend from several years back, his mother was kidding when she would tell me that she was working on converting me. At least I think she was kidding.

I've even tried to maintain a sense of humor about religion. I thought that Monty Python's Life of Brian and Kevin Smith's Dogma were hilarious (not to mention the latter being intelligent in its theme of the message being the important part rather than the religion). I have recommended Good Omens and American Gods (now in paperback!) to practically anyone who would listen to me. I have coveted a Buddy Christ Dashboard Figure for years, and laughed at the kitschy goodness found at Cheesy Jesus and the religious action figures at Jesus Christ Superstore.

And because of this, in some people's eyes I'm a bad person and I'm headed straight to hell in the proverbial handbasket And to that, I say whatever.

A friend of mine from college came up with a great theory that I still use to this day. She had been a member of Campus Crusade for Christ, and the organization wasn't too happy about the fact that she was hanging out with "unacceptable" people. (Regulars at our lunch table were an eclectic group: young and old, male and female, straight and gay, with several different religious beliefs represented.) She had stood up for her beliefs and was essentially asked not to come back to the next Campus Crusade meeting. She explained her views to us one day by placing a Coke can in the middle of the lunch table. "OK," she began. "That's God."

"And you," she continued, pointing to the person across the table from her, "are Catholic." She continued around the table, assigning each of us a hypothetical religion. The person at the end of the table who couldn't see the can clearly was deemed agnostic. The person who'd left for statistics before this experiment began was deemed atheist.

"We're all seeing the same thing, right? Just different sides. And my point of view isn't any more right than anyone else's at the table. Just like no spiritual belief is any better than the other."

Wow. Wisdom from a cola. Apparently the Campus Crusade for Christ folks didn't like her metaphor. I don't know, maybe they were Pepsi drinkers.

And that's the way I feel about the whole Pledge issue. In the insistence that the phrase "under God" does not favor any particular denomination, we're only validating the side of the can with the logo on it. Those folks that are looking at the nutriton facts and the ingredients are being told their view isn't the right one. Maybe not in so many words, but the meaning comes through all the same. Doubly so for those who prefer Mountain Dew or A&W Root Beer.

The simple solution, of course, is just to drop the troublesome phrase and make saying the Pledge an optional thing rather than an unspoken requirement. That doesn't fly too well with the "under God" supporters either. I've heard comments ranging from "people would be offended it we changed it now after all this time" to "it doesn't really have any spiritual significance; it's just a symbolic thing." Well, which is it? Is it merely a symbolic gesture that doesn't mean anything, or does it carry so much meaning that its removal would cause pandemonium?

Personally, I like the ideas presented in a lot of different religions. I have a shelf on my bookcase that I've jokingly referred to as the "deity of the month shelf." On it, I have figures of Buddha, Kwan Yin, the Navaho storytelling god, a Polynesian Tiki god, a voodoo doll, a pink plastic rosary, a Mexican Day of the Dead pipe, the office goddesses Stressa and Caffeina, and a jackalope. I have both a King James version of the Bible and several packs of tarot cards. My spiritual beliefs are mine, decisions I made for myself rather than something I was told to believe. I don't fit comfortably under the auspices of any organized religion. Sometimes what I believe in is male, sometimes it's female, and other times it's genderless. I prefer to think of sacred space as any place I feel comfortable meditating upon my feelings, and more often than not it doesn't involve going to a big building with pews and a cross and a man at a podium telling me what's right and wrong.

But I still like to think of myself as a good person; I try to be nice to people around me. I try to be honest and forgiving. But I don't fit nicely into the God-fearing Christian role. (The word "God-fearing" bothers me a lot. The idea of "God is love" seems to contradict it, and confused me to no end as a child in Sunday school.) So tell me, U.S. Senate and Mr. President and anyone else who thinks that "one nation under God" is as American as apple pie, where do I fit in your scheme of things?

I like a lot of different sodas. They all have their pros and cons. Some days a Vanilla Coke sounds appealling, and some days I'm in the mood for a Stewart's Cherries and Cream. And I don't like the idea of proclaiming that only one particular product or flavor is the right one, especially if I have to put my hand over my heart and proclaim it on a daily basis.

Come on, people. There's room enough in the cooler for all of the sodas.