The Torah, John Grisham and the Mall

At first glance, verse 22 in Genesis, chapter 18, doesn't seem all that important.

God has just told Abraham Sodom and Gomorrah are in big trouble. Then a strange clause in verse 22 notes that "Abraham remained standing before the Lord." It appears, says a footnote in a major new commentary on Genesis, that the nomad who would become a patriarch briefly struggles with himself, debating whether it is possible to change God's mind.

"Abraham can't decide whether to be silent or to argue with God," said novelist and playwright Chaim Potok, the project's literary editor. "Finally, he decides not to walk away and he begins to argue with God. . It's just a pause. But in that pause, something happens that changes everything. It's a moment that defines an individual. It defines a story, it defines a people, it defines a culture, it transforms everything. Abraham changes and, thus, we change."

It would be wonderful, said Potok, if more readers dug into these kinds of tomes to uncover the riches buried between the lines. However, the events and stories covered in the Jewish Publication Society's Torah Commentary are now part of our cultural air. Those who watch the evil Darth Vader struggle to rediscover his conscience, or who agonize along with the latest flawed protagonist in a John Grisham morality tale, are traveling in the footsteps of Abraham and other biblical characters.

"The basic assumptions of our popular culture -- even Star Wars or John Grisham's novels -- are built on the images and the themes and the great truths of these narratives," said Potok, who is best known for novels such as "The Chosen" and plays such as "Sins of the Father." "The big ideas, the big symbols, filter down into the popular culture and into our lives. Without Genesis, you can't have a Grisham."

However, it's unlikely that copies of scholar Nahum Sarna's massive, but surprisingly accessible, commentaries on Genesis and Exodus will appear anytime soon in airport book racks, or find a niche on shopping mall shelves next to the wisdom of television talk-show stars. But there are times, stressed Potok, when "life presses us up against the wall" and all kinds of people feel the need to take another look at unfiltered, archetypal texts.

One of the defining characteristics of what historians call "modernity" was that "modern" people automatically distrusted ancient texts and stories. There were religious answers to life's questions and then there were scientific, or "real," answers. Now, people are talking about "post-modernism" and one of its central tenets is that science doesn't have all of the answers. People who no longer believe that science is God often hunt for God elsewhere.

"What this has done is level the playing field and made the great narratives of literature, philosophy and religion as valid as any of those so-called 'modern' narratives -- such as science -- in terms of giving meaning to life," said Potok. "It turns out that the answers to life's big questions may not be in the bottom of a test tube. . They may even be found in the pages of a book."

Meanwhile, the clock is racing toward a new millennium. On a less apocalyptic level, many post-modern people have concluded that it's impossible to find meaning without regaining a sense of family and community. For millions raised in homes that were, to one degree or another, Jewish or Christian, this means coming to terms with the Bible -- the ultimate multigenerational family narrative. If they approach these texts with an open mind and an active imagination, they may be surprised, said Potok.

"This isn't Star Wars. It's not that kind of fun. But at the same time, these narratives do move right along. You could even say -- in movie terms -- that there is a lot of jump cutting from scene to scene and from theme to theme. You have murders, dysfunctional families, flights from danger, great battles, close calls, broken promises, brothers betraying brothers, redemption and love. And everything happens very fast."

Major Abortion News in a Pulpit

It's fitting that journalists couldn't even agree on where New York Cardinal John O'Connor was standing as he opened another chapter in America's bitter struggle over abortion.

The New York Daily News said he was at the St. Patrick's Cathedral altar as he read: "Mr. President, you are in a unique position to insure respect for all human rights, including the right to life which is denied to infants who are brutally killed in partial-birth abortion." But the Associated Press reported that O'Connor spoke out in his "mid-Mass homily, delivered from the pulpit."

It isn't unusual for prelates to speak in cathedrals. Calling attention to the fact that a cardinal delivered a sermon in a pulpit, in the middle of Mass, is like noting that a teacher delivered a lecture in a school classroom. Reading between the lines, the key is that this statement by the seven U.S. cardinals was read in churches that represent undeniable power in mainstream America.

Offered a choice, President Clinton would rather stand next to the cardinals of Baltimore, Boston, Detroit, Los Angeles, New York, Philadelphia and Washington, D.C., not turn his back on them. It's easier to score political points by blasting anti-abortion radicals than by repeatedly rejecting the counsel of pro-life clergy who consistently teach that all human life is sacred.

"As long as it's bomb throwers that we keep hearing about in the media, then it's easy for the president to say, `This is what the abortion issue is all about. These right-to-lifers are all right-wing fanatics,' " said Father Paul Keenan, assistant director of communications for the New York archdiocese. "But when the cardinals step out front ... it changes the shape of the debate."

Another reason the cardinals released their statement when they did was the media storm caused by Ron Fitzsimmons, executive director of the National Coalition of Abortion Providers. In an unusual public confession, he said that he "lied through my teeth" during last year's debates over banning the procedure that opponents call "partial-birth abortion" and its defenders call "intact dilation and evacuation." At that time he said the procedure was used no more than 450 times a year. Fitzsimmons recently said it is used as often as 5,000 times a year and that in most cases both the mother and fetus are healthy.

"The abortion-rights folks know it, the anti-abortion folks know it, and so, probably, does everyone else," he said, in a March 3 article in the Medical News.

No one disputes the basic facts of the procedure. It begins with the manipulation of the unborn child into a breech position in the womb. The doctor then delivers the body, except for the head, punches a hole at the base of the skull and suctions out the brain. The skull is then crushed and the delivery completed.

Everything Fitzsimmons said had already been stated in Capitol Hill testimony and in isolated news reports. But this time around, the mainstream media ran the story and abortion-rights leaders had to play defense.

"No sooner does abortion receive a tiny ... bruise than a fresh coat of makeup is applied to its cheek," wrote Frank Bruni of the New York Times. This suggests a "movement enveloped by an extremism that prohibits concessions, compromise, maybe even candor. ... It is a siege mentality that has kept many who favor abortion rights silent about their qualms over late-term abortions."

In this new atmosphere, some are publicly asking questions about the safety of late-term abortions, the role that abusive men play in forcing women to abort, the emotional cost of abortions and how early fetuses become "viable," or capable of living outside the womb.

Meanwhile, O'Connor openly used theological language and compared the abortion issue with a recent Passion Play controversy in New Jersey. The cast there includes a black actor in the role of Jesus and bigots have responded with death threats. Some people, said the outraged cardinal, "can't see the image of Christ in the face of a black man. ... Others struggle to see the image of Christ in the face of the unborn."

Hollywood, TV Ratings and Religion

Rabbi Yechiel Eckstein admits that he laughed early and often during the Steve Martin comedy "Leap of Faith."

But afterwards, he was troubled by the 1992 film's portrait of a barnstorming preacher, faith healer and fraud who fleeces halls full of trusting, simpleminded and ultimately pathetic sheep. Surely such hucksters exist, Eckstein decided. However, as president of the Center for Jewish and Christian Values, the rabbi had worked with enough Christians to know that charlatans are not the norm.

And there's the rub. Anyone seeking more balanced, sympathetic images of preachers at the local multiplex and video store will need to hunt a long, long time.

"Is it any wonder that so many have negative views toward evangelists and, I would say, evangelical Christians as a whole?", asked Eckstein, during a Washington, D.C., forum on Hollywood and religion. "The fact is that Christian beliefs are belittled. ... The cherished symbols of their faith are put to blasphemous uses. If there is a Christian character in a film, you can almost always be sure that he is . a fool, a liar, a cheater, a murderer, a fraud or a crazy person."

At the very least, said Eckstein, such displays of media bias have hurt efforts to promote tolerance and understanding between opposing camps in America's culture wars. It's highly likely they've poured fuel on the flames.

The rabbi's remarks came before the start of the latest clash between the entertainment establishment and critics who accuse it of undercutting parents, clergy and other moral leaders. Right now, the usual suspects are debating the merits of the new television ratings system.

It's significant that many key actors in the TV Parental Guidelines drama have played leading roles in disputes over Hollywood and religion. Thus, in the months ahead, Jack Valenti and the Motion Picture Association will continue to sing the praises of those flickering icons that proclaim TV-G (general), TV-PG (parental guidance), TV-M (mature) and so forth. Off stage, others will quip that studio executives should be candid and stick other initials in the top-left corner of TV screens, such as PG-ABC (anything but Christianity).

It's hard not to notice the "peculiar wall of separation between God and screen," said Sen. Joseph Lieberman (D-Conn.). "The common, Judeo-Christian principles that motivated our Founding Fathers' thoughts and actions and that have served as our society's moral safety net have been replaced with a brand of moral relativism that not only tolerates but frequently celebrates the perverse, the grotesque and the degrading."

The senator and other critics noted the irony of a recent Fox network decision to pull an episode of its horror series "Millennium" which centered on a series of clergy murders. The Washington Post reported that producers felt the timing was awkward, since this program would have aired the night after the death of Chicago Cardinal Joseph Bernardin. However, Fox decided it would be fine to use the episode a week later - dead priests and all.

Meanwhile, a rare chorus of feminists and evangelicals is attacking the critically acclaimed film "The People vs. Larry Flynt." Both groups are furious that it whitewashes parts of the Hustler publisher's perverse past, while fundamentalists also wonder if part of the film's popularity with Hollywood insiders is its use of the Rev. Jerry Falwell as a villain.

And so it goes, world without end. Hollywood bashes conservative religious leaders, many of whom respond with simplistic attacks on Hollywood.

Clergy must realize that it isn't enough to curse the darkness, said the Rev. Doug Millham, preaching at the First Presbyterian Church of Hollywood. They should tell the faithful to pray for those who create the media products consumed by millions and support efforts to minister to the more than 2,000 committed Christians in Hollywood. They can encourage talented young people to enter the entertainment industry.

"There's no middle ground," he said, in a sermon reprinted in Movieguide magazine. "One change of producer, one change in script, one change in network leadership, will alter the course of what millions of people think and feel and believe about life itself."

Preparing for Prayer Book 2006

Clergy quickly learn this law: Most worshippers want to sit in familiar pew, open a familiar book and hear the familiar words of a familiar service.

Words such as: "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." Or this: "I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible: And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God. ..."

Empires and churches have been torn asunder by minute changes in these kinds of texts, because changing people's prayers changes their faith. The faithful get up in arms when asked to change what they say while on their knees.

So Marge Christie wasn't surprised to find anger in the evaluation forms collected after the Episcopal Diocese of Newark began testing a bold new Mass. Even members of one of Christendom's trendiest flocks have linguistic lines they find hard to cross. Nevertheless, seeds planted in places such as Newark have a way of bearing fruit nationwide.

"Our desire goal was to cause people to stop and think about the words they use in worship and THAT we certainly accomplished," said Christie, co-chair on the Task Force on Prayer Book Revision. "I hate this particular phrase, but we pushed the envelope."

The most obvious changes centered on references to God as "Father" or "Lord," words that many consider rooted in patriarchal power structures. This led to changes in texts that even Easter worshippers can say with their eyes closed. Thus, the new Lord's Prayer left the title the same, but began with: "O God in heaven, Mother and Father of us all, hallowed be your name."

Participants rejected this language by a ratio of 4-to-1 or more, said Christie. Thus, the second draft offered a safer substitute: "O God in heaven, holy is your name." The "Affirmation of Faith" -- which replaced the Nicene Creed -- used similar imagery: "We believe in God, Source of all life, of sun and moon, of water and earth, of male and female. ..."

The bottom line: drafters of the new rite edited and revised centuries of Catholic, Orthodox and Anglican tradition, said the academic dean of the most evangelical Episcopal seminary.

"They can say they've left in a form of the Trinity, but it's somebody else's Trinity. It's a depersonalized Trinity that has nothing to do with Christianity's Father, Son and Holy Spirit," said Father Stephen Noll of the Trinity Episcopal School for Ministry in Ambridge, Pa. "You can't just choose some other words and plug them in. ... You end up with something that has some of the form of Christian liturgy, but its substance is actually Unitarian or some sort of Christianized pantheism."

Another fundamental change was the weakening or omitting of references to repentance and the doctrine that Jesus was crucified to atone for mankind's sins. Too much of the language in the 1979 Book of Common Prayer had assumed the "pattern of asking or begging for God's forgiveness," said Father Wade Renn, the other task force co-chair, in a diocesan newspaper interview.

Future prayer books, he said, may need to include CD-ROM discs containing alternative rites reflecting many styles of worship and theological viewpoints. There is, noted Renn, a "feminist vernacular, traditional vernacular, gay and lesbian vernacular, Anglo-Catholic vernacular, low-church vernacular and so on."

The Newark rites have, for now, been shelved and a report sent to national liturgists who are considering requests for a 2006 prayer book. Some insiders believe this would be premature and say that next July's General Convention should merely sanction more trial rites -- a kind of theological "local option" resolution.

"Maybe it can't be 2006. Maybe it has to be 2012," said Christie. "But these kinds of changes are coming and they need to be made at the national level. ... The key is that we have to get to work on this right now. No one thinks this will be easy."

There's More to Religious Liberty than Worship

While making her early rounds, Secretary of State Madeleine Albright has let everyone know that she's concerned about religious persecution.

As the State Department released its 1996 human rights reports, she noted that "religious persecution and intolerance" are "plagues that from ancient times have fomented war and deep-seated resentment. In too many countries -- from Sudan to Vietnam to Iran -- this form of repression persists. In a few, including China, it has increased. Whatever your culture, whatever your creed, the right to worship is basic."

During last week's first meeting of her religious freedom advisory committee, Albright added: "The right to profess and practice one's religion is recognized in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. ... The principle is the same whether our specific focus is on the harassment of Christians, the persecution of Jews, the denial of rights to the Baha'is or the Buddhists, or violence against Islam."

So far, so good. But it will be harder to speak out in Beijing than inside the Beltway and many diplomats balk when it comes time to link sacred rites with corporate rights. Also, there is more to religious liberty than worship. People also have the right to proclaim their faith, to proselytize, to be politically active and to obey a pope. This is especially true in lands such as China, where believers are forced to "profess" their faith by registering with Communist authorities and "practice" their faith by bending the knee in government-sanctioned sanctuaries.

Meanwhile, the Advisory Committee on Religious Freedom Abroad faces its own challenges. Many Capitol Hill conservatives are furious because the 20-member panel includes only two evangelical Christians, along with leaders and academics from Orthodoxy, Catholicism, Judaism, liberal Protestantism, Islam, the Baha'is and other traditions. Also, the White House instructed the panel to address broad issues such as "toleration" and "reconciliation," even though it was formed in response to highly specific cases of persecution of evangelicals and Catholics. Above all, ask the critics, can the state department be trusted to investigate its own policies?

Debates about the panel's membership highlight another fact about "religious freedom" -- these words are hard to define. Often, it's hard to say where efforts to defend a nation's cultural heritage stop and "religious persecution" begins. One faith's concept of evangelism will almost certainly be heresy to shepherds whose sheep are being evangelized.

After its first meeting, the advisory committee released a statement that alluded to this tension: "The significance of national and regional particularities and various historical, cultural and religious backgrounds must be borne in mind. Nevertheless, it is the duty of states, regardless of their political, economic and cultural systems, to promote and protect religious freedom."

Meanwhile, clashes continue in the Balkans. Reports from China indicate that Washington, D.C., politicos may soon be discussing Chinese martyrs, as well as Chinese entrepreneurs, arms merchants, software pirates and spies. Still, events in other parts of the world have received little ink. In the Sudan, the government has burned Christian villages, kidnapped children as slaves and tortured worshipers and clergy. Last week, the Los Angeles Times reported that nine Coptic Christians died when Muslim extremists sprayed a church youth group with machine guns. In Kuwait, Reuters reported that a prominent convert to Christianity named Robert Hussein has reverted to Islam, after receiving what many saw as a death sentence. In Pakistan, a thousand Christian families fled when rioters looted homes and burned churches.

It would be wrong to blame this bloody litany on Islam or any other specific religion, stressed a conservative Jewish activist. Persecution has more to do with renegades, militants and dictators than with doctrine.

"We patronize Islam when we say, `Oh, we know who those people are. We know what they are like. They are into killing and murdering, into persecution.' They are not -- the thugs are," said Michael Horowitz, of the Hudson Institute in Washington, D.C. "In that battle for the soul of Islam, vulnerable Christians are the battleground. Protecting them protects all in those parts of the world struggling to define whether they stay in the dark ages ... or enter the 21st century."

Adultery: Grace or Gossip?

The distressed parishioner had a sad, even pathetic, story to tell, one the Rev. C. Welton Gaddy had heard before.

The man confessed that he was an adulterer, but that wasn't the worst part of his predicament. His boss had heard about the affair and fired him, starting a chain reaction that struck his wife and two children.

Both the husband and his wife wanted to try save the marriage, said Gaddy, in a case study in his new book, "Adultery & Grace: The Ultimate Scandal." But with the husband's sudden unemployment, she was forced into the job market. Along with the crushing blow of his infidelity, this stress weakened her already fragile health. The children's educational plans were in jeopardy. Now, the husband needed to know if his pastor could help with their most pressing concerns -- money for marriage counseling and groceries.

Friends pleaded with the employer on behalf of the wife and children. Gaddy remembers the response: "They're not my problem. He should have thought of what he was doing to his family before he started screwing around."

The boss wanted to punish the adulterer, but crushed a family. Worst of all, said Gaddy, this approach often serves as a death sentence for weakened marriages, creating more broken homes. Truth is, many people relate to adulterers and their families with a mean-spiritedness that is just as sinful as acts of adultery.

Most Americans have a "love-hate relationship with adultery and adulterers," said the Baptist writer and ethicist, who currently leads Northminster Church in Monroe, La. "People flock to movies to drool over stories of heroes and heroines caught in adulterous relations. Scores of readers go through stacks of romance novels detailing extramarital erotica. Tell these same individuals about two people they know ... in an adulterous relationship, however, and watch out for a severe response of righteous indignation mixed with moral outrage."

A similar tension exists in churches. Most religious people act as if adultery is the worst of all possible sins, a scarlet- letter offense that's impossible to forget or forgive. Yet clergy rarely, if ever, use the pulpit to offer advice on how people can avoid adultery or recover from this sin. Few churches dare to offer programs that help save broken marriages.

Yes, a few liberal churches have even made news by saying that sex outside of marriage is not always sinful. But it may be even more newsworthy that so many conservative churches have become timid or silent. The result is a worse-case scenario. Instead of guidance, churches offer gossip; instead of proclaiming the need for repentance, forgiveness and restoration, most church leaders, by their silence, promote secrecy, vindictiveness and divorce.

The silence may be linked to darker truths about church life in this era of high divorce rates in pulpits and pews. Gaddy noted that numerous studies indicate "religious people who regularly worship in a church or synagogue are as prone to marital infidelity as the rest of the population. Their views on sexuality reveal a conservatism not shared by society at large, but their behavior differs little from the social norm."

The first step to healing is for religious leaders to talk openly about the multigenerational havoc that adultery causes in the lives of husbands, wives and children, said Gaddy. After breaking the silence, clergy can discuss practical ways that the church can people recover from adultery.

In one encounter with a woman caught in adultery, noted Gaddy, Jesus delivered a delicately balanced message. He did not condemn her, but his final words were clear: "Go, and sin no more." The church must deliver a similar message, and then its deeds must match its words. The goal is to save souls and then save marriages.

"Either you believe in grace and redemption or you don't," said Gaddy. "I believe that adultery has become, for the modern church, the ultimate test of this reality. ... I am convinced the church can denounce sin, while also being aggressive about telling people about forgiveness and grace."

The Architect of American Catholicism

As Cardinal Joseph Bernardin entered the Loyola University Cancer Center he found his path blocked by a mass of news crews.

The Chicago cardinal faced surgery for pancreatic cancer and this crisis came on the heels of another media storm, when he was accused of sexual abuse. Thus, America's best-known Catholic prelate paused for yet another impromptu press conference.

"One of the first questions asked was, `Cardinal, which did you find more difficult or more traumatic - the false accusation or the diagnosis of cancer?' I immediately said, `The false accusation,'" recalled Bernardin, describing the 1995 scene in a posthumously published memoir. "They asked me to explain, so I told them that the accusation had been the result of evil. It was an attack on my integrity. .But cancer is an illness. It doesn't involve moral evil."

Bernardin completed "The Gift of Peace" only two weeks before his death on Nov. 14. It begins with former seminarian Steven Cook's accusation of sexual abuse. However, Bernardin said he quickly realized that Cook - who has since died of AIDS - wasn't to blame, because "certain critics of mine" used him as a pawn. In this story, the forces of "moral evil" are represented by Catholic traditionalists out to "get" a progressive cardinal.

While Bernardin did not name names, he included enough details to point reporters toward Father Charles Fiore of Lodi, Wis. The outspoken Dominican priest has publicly acknowledged he was the target of the cardinal's accusations, while denying that his one conversation with Cook had anything to do with bringing charges against Bernardin.

"Only two people know what Steven Cook and I discussed on Nov. 10, 1993: Steven Cook and I. Cook is dead," said Fiore, in The Wanderer, a conservative Catholic newspaper. The bottom line: Bernardin didn't like people openly raising questions about his theological beliefs and private life, said Fiore.

Ironically, "The Gift of Peace" offers little evidence of peace among American Catholics. While some hail Bernardin as a great peacemaker; others insist that he chanted, "Peace, peace; when there is no peace." Conservatives say he built his career on media events in which those who defend centuries of doctrine were pressured to dialogue, and then compromise, with dissidents who reject the Catholic faith.

"Bernardin was the favorite prelate of those who despise the idea of prelacy. He was the hero of those who view the entire Catholic ecclesiastical system as sinister," said conservative historian James Hitchcock of St. Louis University. "In fact, the more people liked Cardinal Bernardin, and praised his role as a great reconciler, the more likely they were to be critical of traditional Catholic doctrine, the authority of Rome and, especially, the current pope."

In 1968, Bernardin became the first general secretary of the National Conference of Catholic bishops and later was elected its president. In this era, he built a powerful bureaucracy that traditionalists said resembled the National Council of Churches or a left- wing think tank. Then Bernardin guided the writing of "The Challenge of Peace," a national pastoral letter that challenged the morality of nuclear weapons and put him on the cover of Time. Shortly after becoming Chicago's cardinal, he delivered his 1983 "seamless garment" sermon linking abortion with other social issues, such as the death penalty, nuclear war and welfare.

Conservatives were outraged, saying that this offered politicians a theological smoke screen, at the strategic moment when the pro-life movement had its best chance to affect national policies. This wound never healed.

"The real issue between Fiore and the cardinal was abortion," said Father Andrew Greeley, a controversial writer and sociologist. "Sex abuse was simply something to skewer him on." In general, conservatives "thought he was not hard line enough on abortion. It was not enough to oppose abortion. You had to do it their way."

Meanwhile, many progressives say that Bernardin was, at times, too cautious in pushing for change or perhaps too loyal to Rome. This obscures the fact that he changed the very structure of Catholic life in this country, said Hitchcock.

"The key is whether we are Roman Catholics or, as the press now likes to say, 'American Catholics,'" he said. "Well, Cardinal Bernardin was not the symbolic leader of this so-called American Catholic church. He was its architect."

George Lucas, the Force and God

A long time ago, in a movie multiplex not so far away, a child looked up and asked: "Mom, Dad, is the Force the same thing as God?"

Children have been asking that question for 20 years. The simple answer is "yes." But this raises another question: Which god or God is at the center of the "Star Wars" universe?

The trilogy's creator was well aware that his work invaded turf traditionally reserved for parents, priests and preachers. George Lucas wrote "Star Wars" shortly after the cultural revolution of the '60s. He sensed a spiritual void.

"I wanted it to be a traditional moral study, to have some sort of palpable precepts in it that children could understand," said Lucas, in a recent New Yorker interview. "There is always a lesson to be learned. ... Traditionally, we get them from church, the family, art and in the modern world we get them from the media -- from movies."

Lucas set out to create a modern mythology to teach right and wrong. The result was a fusion of "Flash Gordon Conquers the Universe" and Joseph Campbell's "The Hero with a Thousand Faces," of Arthurian legends and Japanese samurai epics, of Carlos Castaneda's "Tales of Power" and the Narnia tales of C.S. Lewis. Along the way, Lucas sold $1.3 billion worth of tickets and "Star Wars" merchandise sales have topped $4 billion. Now, a revamped "Star Wars" is back in theaters, to be followed by its sequels, "The Empire Strikes Back" and "The Return of the Jedi." A trilogy of "prequels" is set to begin in 1999.

The impact of Lucas' work has led some researchers to speak in terms of a "Star Wars" generation. A modern preacher who wants to discuss self sacrifice will be understood by more people if he refers to the death of Jedi knight Obi Wan Kenobi, rather than that of St. Stephen.

"It was natural that my generation would latch on to these stories," said Jason Ruspini, webmaster of the unofficial "Star Wars Home Page," one of nearly 1,000 "Star Wars" Internet sites. "They were much more attractive and appropriate than the ancient myths of Judeo-Christian theology. How could these draconian and antiquated stories possibly compete with the majesty and scope of the Star Wars universe?"

Lucas grew up in the 1950s in Modesto, Calif., reading comics, escaping to movies and watching TV. Although he attended a Methodist church with his family, biographer Dale Pollock notes that he was turned off by the "self-serving piety" of Sunday school. Lucas also visited the housekeeper's German Lutheran congregation, where he was impressed by the elaborate rituals.

Traces of these experiences are woven into his work. "The message of `Star Wars' is religious: God isn't dead, he's there if you want him to be," writes Pollock, in his book "Skywalking." Lucas puts it this way: "The laws really are in yourself."

The faith in "Star Wars" is hard to label. The Force is defined as "an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us." It contains both good and evil. Jedi master Yoda clearly teaches a form of Buddhism. Yet the Lucas liturgy also proclaims "May the Force be with you," a variation on the Christian phrase "May the Lord be with you." The plot includes other symbols and themes from biblical faith. Lucas has embraced both "passive Oriental philosophies and the Judeo- Christian ethic of responsibility and self-sacrifice," according to Pollock.

Thus, some Christians hail "Star Wars" as evidence of a cultural search for moral absolutes. On the World Wide Web, others use the films as glowing icons that teach Eastern philosophy. Welcome to the theological mall.

At the end of Pollock's book, Lucas acknowledges that, by setting his goals so high, he is asking to be judged by very high standards. The creator of "Star Wars" explains that one of his least favorite fantasies is about what will happen when he dies. Perhaps, he said, he will come face to face with God and hear these words: "You've had your chance and you blew it. Get out."

Truth is Marching?

As governor of Arkansas, Bill Clinton spent many of his Sunday mornings in the choir at Little Rock's Immanuel Baptist Church.

Thus, President Clinton beamed with pride as his choir mates performed the "Battle Hymn of the Republic" after his second inaugural address. The anthem was so familiar that many in this elite congregation may have missed its ironic message.

"He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat," sang the choir, within shouting distance of the U.S. Supreme Court. "He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat. ... Our God is marching on."

Inaugurations are the holy days of what historians call "civil religion," which blends references to God and country into a vague, lowest-common-denominator faith. Julia Ward Howe's hymn remains popular at events of this kind, even though it includes explicit references to Christ, God's wrath, the crucifixion and other sensitive subjects. In one verse the men repeatedly sing, without apology: "Truth is marching."

Suffice it to say that people have gotten into trouble for singing much tamer songs at graduation ceremonies and other public rites. Today, the very concept of truth is controversial.

Moments before the choir sang, President Clinton warned against the dangers of religious extremism. The wrong kind of faith leads directly to division and conflict, he said. "The challenge of our past remains the challenge of our future. ... Will we all come together, or come apart?"

While focusing initially on racism, the president clearly had other targets in mind -- all critics of cultural and moral pluralism. It was hard to miss this shot at the Religious Right.

"Prejudice and contempt, cloaked in the pretense of religious or political conviction are no different," he said. "These forces have nearly destroyed our nation in the past. They plague us still. ... We cannot, we will not, succumb to the dark impulses that lurk in the far regions of the soul everywhere. We shall overcome them. And we shall replace them with the generous spirit of a people who feel at home with one another."

Despite that touch of optimism, there is little evidence in the polls that America's conflicts will end any time soon on issues ranging from late-term abortions to physician-assisted suicide, from tax-funded safe-sex programs to legislation attempting to define the meaning of marriage.

The U.S. Supreme Court has been asked to provide secular answers to the kinds of sacred questions that for centuries belonged to theologians. People on both sides of the philosophical aisle agree that the court crossed a crucial line in its 1992 Planned Parenthood v. Casey decision on abortion rights.

"Our obligation is to define the liberty of all, not to mandate our own moral code," said the court. It then defined "liberty" in the broadest possible language and tied this new definition to the 14th Amendment. "At the heart of liberty is the right to define one's own concept of existence, of meaning, of the universe, and of the mystery of human life," said the court.

Many asked if this made it unconstitutional to say that any actions are "right" and others "wrong." What if individuals decide that euthanasia, polygamy, infanticide or cocaine is essential to their concepts of "existence," "meaning" or selfhood? What if government enforcement of an individual's liberty leads to actions that threaten or injure others?

Evangelical activist Charles Colson pointedly asked if the court had shredded the nation's social contract. It is highly likely that Colson, and others, will be asked to march onto Capitol Hill during the next four years and argue their case in public.

"People of different beliefs -br from Christians to atheists to New Agers -br may disagree vehemently over the meaning of life; yet we can all agree to stop when the traffic signal is red," he argued, in Christianity Today. "The distinction between private belief and public philosophy is crucial if we are to maintain public order. But it is precisely this distinction that Casey denied. It simply ... transferred the most fundamental decisions about life and death to the purely private realm."