St. Louis Catholics heading into the
Cathedral Basilica for Mass last Sunday
got a taste of what their counterparts in California experienced last fall:
protests intended to shame churchgoers for their church's opposition to gay
marriage.
Like the gay-rights activists who heckled and chanted outside Catholic,
evangelical and Mormon houses of worship after California voters approved
Proposition 8, those who demonstrated outside the Cathedral last weekend
were
incensed about the role that religious leaders played in defeating another
state's push for same-sex marriage.
The target of activist ire in this case was St. Louis Archbishop Robert
Carlson, who joined 44 other U.S. Catholic bishops in contributing diocesan
funds to the campaign to defend traditional marriage in Maine. Despite a
massive influx of political contributions from gay-marriage supporters and
Maine's socially liberal leanings, defenders of traditional marriage won
handily there last month: 53 percent of voters opted to reject same-sex
marriage, making Maine the 31st state to do so through popular vote.
Carlson's $10,000 donation from an Archdiocesan discretionary fund has
infuriated critics who say the bishop should have spent that money on the
poor
or a cause closer to home. Those critics have expressed no such outrage at
the
exorbitant sums routinely pumped into campaigns across America by same-sex
marriage advocates. In their unsuccessful California campaign, proponents of
same-sex marriage outspent opponents by more than $3.6 million. In Maine,
their
funding advantage was nearly $2 million.
The real issue for Carlson's critics isn't the money. It isn't even his
personal opposition to gay marriage — at least, not entirely. The bishop
shares
that position with President Barack Obama and the majority of the American
people, and gay-rights activists know they cannot win converts to their
cause
by attacking everyone who opposes gay marriage all at once.
But they can score a few points by bashing a Catholic bishop for meddling in
politics and neglecting the poor. That line of attack conforms neatly to
anti-Catholic stereotypes of Roman interference in American elections and
affluent shepherds indifferent to their starving flocks.
The facts undercut these attacks. Carlson's contribution conformed entirely
to
IRS guidelines, which allow religious organizations to advocate on issues
and
ballot initiatives like the Maine marriage referendum. As for serving the
poor,
the Catholic Church, through its Catholic Charities network, is the largest
private provider of social services in Missouri and second to none in its
care
for the needy.
It is precisely the gay-marriage movement that has threatened this good work
in
several cities. After the Massachusetts Supreme Court mandated the
legalization
of same-sex marriage and adoption agencies were required by law to place
children with same-sex couples, Catholic Charities of Boston was driven to
discontinue its adoption services for hard-to-place children because of its
opposition to gay adoptions. In Washington, D.C., a new gay-marriage law may
force Catholic Charities to extend employee benefits to gay and lesbian
couples
and process gay adoptions or forfeit city social service contracts. In both
cases, gay-marriage advocates have argued forcefully against a religious
exemption that would allow the church to continue its service to the poor
without violating Catholic doctrine.
The real issue driving the angry protests outside the Cathedral — which
activists have promised to repeat every Sunday in Advent, a sacred season
for
Catholics — is religious liberty. Should religious leaders defending morally
conservative positions be free to influence the political process in
conformity
with current IRS guidelines, as Carlson did in the gay-marriage debate and
Archbishop Raymond Burke did in the debate over embryo-destructive research?
Or
should they be shushed and shooed out of the public square, forced to choose
between faithful adherence to their convictions and full participation in
American public life?
The signs on display in Sunday's Cathedral protest were a stark reminder of
where most gay-marriage activists come down on that question: "Honk for
separation of church and hate," "tax the church" and "repent, the end of tax
exemption is near." Theirs is a campaign of intimidation with an ominous
message for religious leaders like Carlson and, ultimately, all religious
Americans who oppose same-sex marriage: Shut up or prepare to pay.
Colleen Carroll Campbell is an author, television and radio host and St.
Louis-based fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center. Her website is
www.colleen-campbell.com.