Mother Kali Help Us
Stephen Prothero is a historian of Asian religions at Boston University, the author of Purified by Fire: A History of Cremation in America, and co-author of The Encyclopedia of American Religious History.

At the most recent Bush inaugural, the Rev. Billy Graham invoked the name of Jesus and brought down all sorts of righteous indignation. Harvard Law professor Alan Dershowitz, who now seems to have something to say about almost everything, blasted Graham for "his particularistic and parochial language." Lost in the firestorm was the fact that religions, like languages, are always particularistic and parochial. There is no generic language, and there is no generic religion. If you want to speak, you need to pick a language. If you want to pray, you need to pick a God.

All this is to say that if you invite Billy Graham to give a prayer at a presidential inauguration, you better expect he's going to give a Christian prayer. Graham has been around Washington enough, however, to recognize the problems inherent in invoking Jesus at a national rite. A few months before he delivered a prayer at Bill Clinton's second inaugural (where, by the way, he also called on the name of Jesus), Graham argued that Christians like himself should share the stage at presidential inaugurals with Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, and Islamic clerics. "Each time a President has asked me to lead the Inaugural Prayer," Graham said in 1996, "I have argued that I should not do it alone, that leaders of other religious should be there too."

I see nothing wrong with experimenting with federal funding for faith-based social service initiatives. There is some evidence that religious groups do a better job than secular organizations in battling alcoholism, drug abuse, and even poverty. And while getting into bed with the government may well compromise the integrity of religious communities, it seems to me that they should be the guardians of their own purity. Given the sorry state of secular social services, the time is right to experiment with faith-based initiatives, which at least under the current Supreme Court will probably pass constitutional muster (as long as the religious groups involved avoid sectarian proselytizing).

My big question is whether Bush's faith-based programs will look like America, or like Bush's inauguration. Will Jesus be the only God invoked? Or will Krishna, Allah, and the Buddha also be paid to demonstrate their considerable compassion?

Until fairly recently, the claim that America was a Christian or Judeo-Christian nation made some sense. Since immigration was opened up in 1965, however, the religious landscape has been radically transformed. There are now roughly 1500 Buddhist centers in the United States, and Islam is by most accounts the fastest-growing religion. We are now, as Supreme Court William Douglas observed in 1965, "a nation of Buddhists, Confcianists, and Taoists, as well as Christians."

To his credit, President Bush has repeatedly referred to "churches, synagogues, and mosques" as potential sites of faith-based initiatives, indicating that his understanding of legitimate religion presses beyond the Judeo-Christian tradition to include Islam. But the true test of this policy, in my view, will be how broadly it is applied. Will Vietnamese Buddhist groups have a legitimate chance of receiving federal funds to assist impoverished refugees? Will Hindu organizations be able to compete on a level playing field with Black churches for anti-drug funds?

I doubt that will be the case. But if it is, I will be happy to pray not only to Jesus but also to Mother Kali for the success of Bush's initiative.

Untouched by Angels
Donna Minkowitz is the author of Ferocious Romance: What the Right Taught Me about Sex, God, and Fury which won a Lambda Award for best book on religion and spirituality. Her sermon "Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy and Cruel" was recently performed in the Poets and Preachers series at The Kitchen in New York City.

The worst thing about Bush's plan is it puts even one more nail in the coffin of the idea that government is supposed to take care of the poor. I can't stand this received wisdom that governments and societies in general fail when they try to fight poverty, and that the only people able to do this are individuals or cute little charity groups.

It's this disgusting "Touched by an Angel" notion that people can only be helped when they realize they're bad. That material transformations in people's lives depend solely on spiritual transformations, with "spiritual" defined in conservative Christian terms as the realization of sin and individual responsibility.

Under this logic, it's not worthwhile to make economic changes to benefit the poor-or finance drug treatment programs, or build government-financed battered women's shelters. Or make public schools better, or make jails places that rehabilitate people. Instead, just give 'em the 12 Steps and the warm shoulder of Jesus!

The other thing I hate about Bush's plan is the idea that religious people are better than others. Better at helping people, better at giving charity, just morally better in general. This is obviously false. Mother Teresa refused to give terminally-ill people painkillers because she thought that by suffering they would imitate Jesus. Church-run programs for homeless teenagers are rife with homophobia and sexual abuse. Then there are my personal favorite points of light, the Taliban.

Clearly, there's no connection between loving God and being moral. Which makes sense, because the one thing I know most profoundly about God is that God is not particularly moral himself.