There’s already been a little talk around the blogosphere about the unsavory interpretations of the Foley scandal (e.g. the Lavender Lolita mafia that lurks in chatrooms waiting for the chance to prey on impressionable Republican congressmen, or the enormous potential for internet censorship). A similar story has been going on in my neck of the woods for some time. It involves a church, but no abused minors, fortunately:
Few were surprised when the Rev. George Regas, the retired rector of the liberal All Saints Episcopal Church here, returned to the pulpit just days before the presidential election in November 2004 and delivered a fiery broadside against the war in Iraq as well as politicians who opposed abortion or anti-poverty programs.
Regas insisted he was not instructing the congregation on how to vote, but he minced no words in identifying the enemy: “conservative politicians with the blessing of the religious right.”
The surprise came in what followed.
First, the Internal Revenue Service began investigating whether All Saints, one of the largest Episcopal churches in the country, violated the prohibition against tax-exempt organizations intervening in election campaigns by supporting or opposing candidates. The church, which characterizes Regas’ sermon as merely a discussion of moral values, found itself in the middle of a potentially expensive legal battle.
Stop him before he excommunicates again!
Oh, wait, sorry–different political pulpit.
But what’s worse than a censorious lawsuit based on selective unenforcement of a law you happen to see as just and proper?
A group of people using your cause to destroy the law for their own selfish purposes!
Then something even worse happened, at least in the eyes of some of the church’s defenders: Some of the very people Regas excoriated took up the church’s cause, saying its plight demonstrated why Congress ought to eliminate restrictions on the political activities of churches and other nonprofit organizations.
“This is absolutely an infringement on free speech in our houses of worship,” Rep. Walter Jones Jr., R-N.C., a religious conservative, said.
Jones, who has backed the Iraq war and opposes abortion, accused the IRS of trying to intimidate churches with the investigation — though he says he agrees with none of Regas’ positions — and said the simple solution is having Congress pass a bill he has sponsored, the Houses of Worship Free Speech Restoration Act. The bill, which has languished in committee for three years, would remove most of the restrictions on political involvement by the tax-exempt organizations.
In other words, the solution is not to clarify the law or enforce it neutrally, but to nullify it. The only way to protect All Saints’ right to religious speech is to defend the right of all churches to overtly endorse political candidates.
All Saints is trying to distance itself from these people, to no avail:
But many at the church and in the liberal religious community chafe at the prospect of killing outright the law prohibiting direct political activity by churches and other nonprofit organizations. They say it would play into the hands of conservative religious organizations that have explicit political agendas, zealous followers and lots of money.
“We are fighting this battle on the narrow grounds that the sermon did not cross the line,” said Bob Long, the senior warden — in effect, the elected head — of All Saints, which has a congregation of about 3,500.
Their position is indeed narrow, given the synopsis of the sermon:
The rule states that the tax-exempt organizations, such as churches, charities and other nonprofit concerns, “are absolutely prohibited from directly or indirectly participating in, or intervening in, any political campaign on behalf of (or in opposition to) any candidate for elective public office.” That includes endorsing political candidates, making financial contributions to political campaigns, or directly getting involved in support of campaigns.
An important court test of the law came after the 1992 presidential campaign, during which an organization called the Church at Pierce Creek, or Branch Ministries, paid for full-page ads in the Washington Times and USA Today opposing the Democratic candidate, Bill Clinton. The ads said Clinton was violating God’s laws by supporting abortion on demand, homosexuality and free distribution of condoms in high schools. An appeals court upheld the IRS’ revocation of the church’s tax-exempt status.
In the All Saints case, there was no explicit endorsement, or rejection, of a candidate. The IRS had to infer a political bias to bring a case, say the agency’s critics, who contend that such a conclusion was unwarranted.
(snip)
In his sermon on Oct. 31, 2004, Regas began by insisting that he was not urging the congregation to vote one way or another. The talk was presented instead as a conversation in which Jesus addressed the presidential candidates, incumbent George W. Bush and Sen. John Kerry.
Citing Jesus’ teachings, Regas denounced a range of Bush administration policies, especially the Iraq war, which he characterized as an act of terrorism. “The sin at the heart of this war against Iraq is your belief that an American life is of more value than an Iraqi life,” he said.
Regas called Bush’s plan to build more nuclear warheads morally indefensible, and he blamed Bush’s tax cuts for widening the gap between rich and poor.
“All of that would break Jesus’ heart,” he said.
I’m wondering what he said about Kerry. If his sermon gave the impression that x candidate was ungodly and y candidate was a great Christian prospect, then the IRS would be right to infer a political bias. If, however, the pastor at this very progressive church complained about both candidates or exhorted both candidates to try harder to follow Jesus’ example, then a bias in favor of one candidate or the other cannot be inferred. It’s sticky, of course, since the obvious implication is that the candidate whose beliefs track the beliefs of a religious organization is the one its members should support. It’s difficult to say anything substantive about any political figure without courting endorsement. It’s equally difficult to write relevant sermons that don’t touch on national politics or resonate with political options. The article seems to come to the same conclusion about ambiguity:
The law governing the political activities of churches and other 501(c)(3)s can be vague, with few bright lines distinguishing acceptable from unacceptable speech.
Churches can’t openly campaign for or against candidates, for example, but they can hold voter registration drives. The Internal Revenue Service says the law is not intended to prevent open debate or education on political issues. But political comments can be a problem, especially if they come too close to an election. The IRS does not specify when is too close, though. Some educational comments, it says, can also cross the line, but the line, again, is not specified.
At times, even political endorsements are allowed if the minister makes clear they are personal opinions, rather than the view of the church, but sometimes those personal endorsements can cross the line, depending on where or when they are made. Similarly, a church can lobby for or against specific bills or laws, but sometimes this, too, can cross the line.
Oh, well, then. That’s perfectly clear. More than anything else, this sounds like the FCC’s modus operandi. “We’re not going to censor you! We’re not going to tell you one way or the other what’s offensive or out-of-bounds. You just put it out there, and pray that none of the Wildmons generate an email campaign to convince us to punish you. That’s not censorship.” While the Southern Baptist lampreys don’t seem to be in much danger of suppression, I can understand why Regas and other religious people want the law clarified.