Worry Is Prayer In Reverse

On Not Being A Devout Party Member

“My husband was a devout Republican and he would not have wanted me to talk to him.” - Helen Comperatore, on why she refused to take a call from President Biden in the wake of her husband’s killing.

The above quote shook something loose inside me. It disturbed me because I’m not accustomed to seeing the word “devout” used to describe a relationship with a political party. My first reaction was a sense of scorn. But my judgment was actually telling on me. There’s an old saying, “If you spot it, you got it.” Well, I spotted something in the word devout paired with politics, and it had my name all over it.

In her revelatory book, The Case for God, author Karen Armstrong argues that for most of history, religion was concerned with practices, not belief as we understand the term today. To “believe” in God meant to practice rituals and to behave in a certain way, not necessarily subscribing to literal readings of scripture as scientific truths. It’s an interesting concept, and, to me, it feels intuitively correct.

If I view my own relationship to politics through that lens, then I have made politics my religion, to my detriment. What are some religious rituals that I practice as a devout Politicist?

Religious practice: Praying first thing in the morning and as the last thing at the end of the day.

My practice: Reading the news on my phone as soon as I wake up and in bed as the last thing I do at night. Worrying about outcomes in an almost prayerful way.

Religious practice: Praying to God throughout the day, putting God above all other matters in one’s mind.

My practice: Thinking about politics to the exclusion of many other things. Putting it above all other matters in my mind.

Religious practice: Reciting a liturgy as part of worship within a spiritual community.

My practice: Running down the latest political developments and headlines with friends in a nearly ritualistic way.

This list is by no means exhaustive. But if I look at how a religious person approaches their practice, I am essentially doing that with politics. I have made politics my God. It is a power greater than myself, to whom I direct my thoughts and energy in a practice of personal surrender.

Guess what? That sucks for me. The effect it has on me is the opposite of what I experience when I put a higher power who loves me in the place of politics, instead of the other way around.

Why do I do this? For the same reason I do almost everything: Fear. I’m afraid that people are doing everything wrong.

I have a very strong conviction that I know how everyone should behave, and I have a commensurately strong fear that people will not do what I want them to do. My beliefs aren’t crazy. A lot of what I think people should be doing is right! Sharing wealth, being kind, respecting rights and personal autonomy, and letting others live in peace…these are good things. It’s a legitimate fear that I have. When people do things wrong, it can get very, very ugly.

But being right about what other people should be doing has not won me a second of serenity in my 55 years of life on this Earth. And, the truth is, I’m often wrong about what I think other people should be doing.

But there’s nothing wrong with caring an awful lot about people and the world and wanting things to be better. I have no intention of stopping that. What I do want to change is making the political sphere my religious practice. I can not change the world by worshipping the god of politics. No matter how much news I read, no matter how righteous my anger at the madness of the world, no matter how deep my despair at the suffering, I can not help anyone or anything by practicing this religion of doomscrolling, chanting the headlines, and praying to the god of my political party.

I must demote that god and find a better God to take its place. Fortunately for me, I have a religious tradition. I know how to pray. I know how to worship. I know how to feel and express a divine love that runs deeper and wider than anything I can possibly imagine.

When I stop being a devout party member, I make more space to practice love in my daily life. I can recite ancient words of reverence and compassion in the company of others. I can share meals and kind words with strangers and friends. And so can you, whatever that looks like, for you. I’m not telling anyone what to believe, or to practice.

My point is that I thought I believed one thing — I have a concept of a higher power — but when I re-defined the word belief as practice, I realized I believed something else entirely. Even an atheist can be devout in this understanding of belief. And if we don’t examine our devotions, our practices, we might find that we’re worshipping a god in which we don’t even believe.

Since I had this insight, I found that swapping out a small god for a bigger God is giving me some peace of mind. And in that classic spiritual paradox that I see everywhere in my life, when I give up the god of politics I actually become better able to affect the change I want to see in the world. I become less paralyzed, less afraid, more able to truly act instead of simply worry and fret. I even become a better citizen.

I’ll still vote, I’ll still advocate for what I believe our country needs, but, just for today, I will save my devotion for something bigger, something better, something that brings me into better relations with others and the world.