Nobody has ever accused me of being disrespectful of people of faith. Any faith. Im on the lunatic fringe of respect and tolerance for belief systems ranging from Anglicanism to Zoroastrianism.
OK, Ill admit I dontmuch care for snake handlers.
But its safe to say Im the only Jewish person in this town or any other town in America whose parents funerals were presided over by an Episcopal priest.
The Reform Jewish tradition in which I was reared held that there are many paths to the one God of the world.
Loving kindness, I was taught, is more important than liturgy. The deeds you do speak far louder than the prayers you say.
When my parents died, our close family friend was willing to don his Episcopal vestments and pray in Hebrew. We did not have intimate ties of decades duration to a local rabbi. It wasnt a close call.
Neither is it a close call when I dine with Christian friends or Mormon friends in their home or neighborhood restaurant. I am happy to join hands and say Amen when they bless the meal and invoke the name of their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I havent yet been invited to break bread with Buddhists or Muslims, but if I ever am, I will respect their rituals along with their food.
There's a difference, however, between professing your faith when youre making my lunch and professing your faith when youre making my laws. We're not supposed to be living in a theocracy, but the Florida Senate seems to have forgotten that, judging by Tuesdays proceedings where the chamber bid farewell to outgoing members.
The speeches went on for hours, and nobody should begrudge that. Lawmakers serve at great personal sacrifice, and its fitting that they have the chance to define their legacies and receive the accolades of the allies and of the "frenemies" with whom they served.
But if Tuesdays open-mike day had been a drinking game with lets pray, pray often, pray in Jesus name, and make 19 million Floridians join in as the cue to knock one back, the players would now be candidates for a liver transplant.
For all the talk about how liberals and college professors have driven God from the public square, this First Amendment lawyer hadn't lost a lot of sleep over crhes at city hall or opening prayers at city council meetings. Until Tuesday.
You can watch The Florida Channel's tapes of the festivities and form your own opinion. For me, the parade of true believers had a vaguely menacing tone.
I flashed on being a fourth-grader at Miamis Crestview Elementary in 1962. Each day began with morning announcements broadcast from the principals suite over the public address system. There was news the whole school could use about upcoming test schedules and holidays and assemblies. There was also a Bible reading. Every single day.
It was New Testament-intensive. The run-up to Easter was especially hard on me and the three other Jewish kids at Crestview. The authority figure on the PA system used Christ-killer in a sentence. A lot.
Watching our Senate on Tuesday, I felt 10 years old again. I felt alone. Unwelcome. Afraid.
Guest column: Florence Snyder is a corporate lawyer who lives in Tallahassee. She also consults on ethics and First Amendment issues. Contact her at lawyerflo@gmail.com.
