Not going to hell in a handbasket

By Daniel Thwaites

My first real lesson in The Gleaner's global reach came about a dozen years ago when televangelist Benny Hinn was about to visit Jamaica. Not being a fan of the preacher, I wrote something to the effect that Benny Hill, the red and round-faced British comedian, provided far more spiritual solace for this soul.

Being always on the lookout for reruns of 'Benny Hill', I would see 'Benny Hinn', find great joy, then crash into disappointment when I realised I was misreading. Instead of the honest, little, bald guy running after the women in garter stockings, it would be the staged 'cures' and 'miracles'.

What followed my column was a flood of invective from local and far-off places. Most was just straightforward abuse attributing my lapsed morals to being raised Catholic - which is probably true. But there were also packages of encouraging letters meant to show me the error of my ways, one or two even with books on spiritual instruction.

The whole episode was a reminder of how energetic the religiously inspired can be when pursuing their causes.

Save us from religious right

We see examples of this maniacal religious energy in Jamaica, with spokesmen recently thundering forebodingly against supposed threats to the foundation and fabric of the nation. All because we may decide as a society to be slightly more concerned about the health of the north coast's sex workers, slightly less cruel to homosexuals, or allow horse racing on a Sunday.

Other jeremiads tend to be politely cloaked in discussions about 'secularisation' and 'the moral foundations of law', but the meaning and intent is mediaeval and even sinister: the already glacial pace of enlightenment creeping into Jamaica must be halted, and Church Government continued.

In the United States (US), the Obama administration is currently taking a shellacking for a health-care mandate requiring religiously affiliated employers to cover birth-control costs for their employees. The Roman Catholic Church, which administers numerous hospitals and universities where many non-Catholics are employed, declared jihad against the administration for the policy, and Obama had to hurriedly reverse and seek compromise.

The administration was suffering denunciations from the pulpit aimed at the many Catholic swing voters that helped elect him. The US Conference of Catholic Bishops pitched its opposition as based on resisting government intrusion on 'religious freedom'. The New York Times reports that the Catholic bishops had been preparing for the fight for months:

"... Bishops across the country posted ... dire statements on their websites, and at Mass on the following Sundays, priests read the bishops' letters from their pulpits and wove the religious-freedom theme into their homilies. By the bishops' own count, 147 bishops in the nation's 195 dioceses have now issued personal letters on religious freedom, which are trickling down to Catholics through their local parish bulletins and diocesan newspapers."

'Belief' and action at variance

I can testify that going to a Catholic church in the USA can feel very similar to a Republican Party rally, except that what the culprit in the pulpit is selling, the congregation isn't buying. A recent study found that 98 per cent of sexually active Catholic women in the US have used birth control. Being a mostly obedient Catholic, I've concluded from all this that horses (no mules!) are to race only on weekdays, bareback, and in missionary pole position.

Anyway, I merely note that it's easy to overlook the wondrous advances in human happiness made available by the advent of birth control. Here are two random examples taken from material I've just happened across recently.

In 1880, James Roosevelt married the much younger Sara Delano expecting happiness and companionship. However, she had a difficult time bearing and birthing their son Franklin, and doctors advised her to have no more children. So at age 28, she became celibate to prevent further pregnancy, leading naturally to two decades of marital strain and misery.

At the other end of the social spectrum, in 1905, the novelist James Joyce and his wife Nora lived in poverty when their son, George, was born. The couple thereafter determined to sleep head to foot as an attempt at birth control. It didn't work. Their daughter was born quite soon after.

All of which is to say that the world is not going to hell in a handbasket. And loosening the grip of religious zealots over our laws and lives will rock no great moral foundations. Quite the opposite. We stand the chance of becoming a better and more humane society. Meanwhile, please direct the religious invective to The Gleaner's opinion page editor, and the Benny Hill DVDs to me.

Daniel Thwaites is a partner of Thwaites, Lundgren & D'Arcy in New York, and currently qualifying for the Jamaican Bar. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com.