Faith in America

We may not have it in us anymore -- or at least fewer of us may be willing to make the sacrifice. Ours, after all, is a national myth based on the acquisition of comfort and material success; what surer way to avoid the American Dream than joining a monastery? So, Americans bring religion down to earth. If there's a common theme to be found among American religious traditions, it's an emphasis on family, community and ethics. Suddenly, we have more in common than we thought: So what if you take communion while I turn toward Mecca -- we both agree it's wrong to commit adultery, right?

Religion is, among other things, a rule book that people show their children. While statistically, wealth and education count little in determining who among us believes in God, what does matter is family. Single, childless adults are more than twice as likely to describe themselves as religiously indifferent than are married adults with children. For many, religion is less a solitary pursuit than a guidance system for family life and, in turn, a template for social responsibility.

The religion of values may provide a useful lingua franca, but it feels incomplete. Take, for example, Americans' reaction to the prospect of an Orthodox Jew for vice president. Sen. Joseph Lieberman's faith struck many as mysterious at first; it began winning favor only once it was translated into a set of values. At a pre-election press conference at the University of Notre Dame, Lieberman bemoaned the fact that religious indifference in America has made it more difficult for us to find our way out of such seemingly intractable ethical quagmires as "Why is it wrong to lie or cheat or steal?"

Is that really what his religion is for? Does he -- does anyone -- need religious doctrine to answer those questions? If so, religion is considerably less complex than we might have thought. Lieberman's faith, translated into campaign speak, lulls us right back to the Christian values espoused by Presidents Clinton, Reagan and Carter and generations of American politicians.

Religion in America, for the most part, seems neither mystical nor remote. It has to do with notions of how a society should behave. And, in doing so, it contains a germ of something momentous: If religious Americans made from their faiths a movement of volunteerism, community activism and greater kindness, ours would be a very different country.

Mormons are, in number and in popular opinion, a religious minority, but of the American religious groups, theirs may come closest to such a commitment. By obligating every young member to undertake two years of missionary service, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints builds the duty of working for the community (in this case, the church) into the meaning of being a Mormon. But the value of that time hinges on your view of the goal of evangelizing the world. Americans sing the praises of those whose religious beliefs are made manifest in altruism, but only a minority follow their lead. Still, the groundwork is laid.

Religion, in the best American sense, gives us a way to treat one another, to behave during our time on Earth. The gray area where Americans religions overlap -- the values that have come to symbolize religion itself for so many people -- could, if we let them, provide a blueprint for altruism. And even if that's as close to transcendence as religious Americans get, faith alone can still hold the promise of the otherworldly, of hope, of an answer.

• View blog reactions