Beyond Belief

Last month, a group of grassroots religionists announced they were forming a “prayer force” for Republican state Sen. Jim Bryson, a 45-year-old market research executive in need of divine intervention in his quest to unseat Gov. Phil Bredesen, who is so popular with voters he led Bryson in a recent Mason-Dixon poll by 33 points. Last month, a group of grassroots religionists announced they were forming a “prayer force” for Republican state Sen. Jim Bryson, a 45-year-old market research executive in need of divine intervention in his quest to unseat Gov. Phil Bredesen, who is so popular with voters he led Bryson in a recent Mason-Dixon poll by 33 points. Sen. Bryson is generally considered to be a decent fellow—he and his wife adopted three Russian children—though not very dogmatic in his beliefs. His main downfall seems to be that nobody knows who he is. He has been at the statehouse only four years. A recent statewide bus tour was deemed a “horrendous flop” by one Democratic operative because Bryson was reportedly speaking to small, disinterested groups at poorly planned events. His staff is believed to be too small to handle a statewide election, and the governor has about $4 million more to spend before the Nov. 7 election. Bryson should hope the Lord is listening because he is certainly in need of miracle to upset Bredesen. Blair Morgan, an attorney and vice treasurer of the Davidson County Republican Party, founded the prayer force for Bryson, whom Morgan calls a “fine man of God,” but also to instill conservative values at the Capitol. Organizers will send a weekly prayer alert to an anonymous list of worshipers, suggesting prayers and scripture to recite at predetermined times. A monthly prayer meeting will unite Bryson supporters in person. Of course, by sounding the worshipers’ bell, Bryson supporters are tapping into an age-old American tradition of mixing politics and religion on the campaign trail dating back to George Washington. Every president has belonged to a Christian congregation except Abraham Lincoln, who nonetheless peppered speeches with scripture and other references to the Bible. It is generally believed that faith began to be de-emphasized around the time John Kennedy took office, then returned in the Jimmy Carter era after Carter was quoted in Playboy magazine as being a born-again Christian, introducing the term to millions of Americans. Bill Clinton’s well-known foibles in office further intensified religion in the political arena followed by national tragedies like Sept. 11 and Katrina. “Turning toward God in times of crisis is a natural human reaction since the beginning of time,” says Bob Rusbuldt, a Washington-based GOP strategist who was on the short list to succeed Ralph Reed as executive director of the Christian Coalition. Voters, it seems, often equate religion with an inner moral compass even though the two are not coextensive by any means. Today, there are hundreds of prayer groups on D.C.’s Capitol Hill involving members of both parties and their staffs, some of whom pretend to be more devout than they actually are. “We all know there’s a tendency to exploit religion for political gain,” Rusbuldt says. “I have no evidence of this, but I’m sure there’s some politicians who do it. It’s tough to read a person’s heart.” Gov. Bredesen hasn’t exactly taken the bait of Bryson supporters by responding with his own prayer force, though his campaign says that the governor has been compiling a list of about 100 religious leaders he intends to use as a kind of focus group. His “outreach group,” the governor’s campaign insists, has been in the planning stages for some months. It’s not unlike other groups (veterans, teachers, unions) his campaign staff is organizing to help Bredesen hone his message and to provide an entry point into his campaign for voters who tend to focus on a small range of issues. The religious leaders will give Bredesen advice on issues like TennCare. Bredesen’s campaign isn’t ready to release names of the ministers, but the governor has an ongoing dialogue with several Davidson County clergy who are expected to be included: Charlie Strobel of Vanderbilt’s Campus for Human Development; James “Tex” Thomas of the Jefferson Street Missionary Baptist Church; Becca Stevens of St. Augustine’s Chapel and Father Joseph Breen of St. Edward Catholic Church. For the most part, though, Bredesen’s heart isn’t in outward displays of religion. “He believes religion should be a private matter,” says a source close to the governor. “He doesn’t believe people should be parading around, making a big show of their beliefs.” Though his current church-going habits are unknown, Bredesen, who is Presbyterian, has been known to sit discreetly in the last pew of the 7:30 a.m. mass at Cathedral of the Incarnation Catholic Church on West End. (Bredesen’s wife Andrea Conte is Catholic.) At black churches during campaign season, he is just as likely to turn down as he is to accept an invitation at the podium out of a belief that politicians shouldn’t be politicking in church. Consequently, there’s not likely to be a ratcheting up of religionist rhetoric as the gubernatorial race intensifies, at least on Bredesen’s side. “If I were advising him,” says one political strategist, “I’d tell him to leave it alone. It only plays up to a certain type of conservative voter in the Republican camp.” Bryson will likely continue emphasizing the difference between the senator and governor on red-gristle issues like abortion and especially gay marriage since there’s an amendment on the November ballot preventing same-sex marriages in other states from being recognized in Tennessee. Democrats, however, aren’t as concerned about fallout from same-sex marriage as they are about something the governor has little control over: immigration. Responding to election-year trumpeting to close the borders, Bredesen was one of the few non-border-state governors to offer troops to patrol the Mexican border. But otherwise, the issue is in the hands of the feds. “Joe Sixpack doesn’t care if it’s a state, local or federal issue,” says a Democratic strategist. “But that’s the thing conservatives manipulate the same as gay marriage. It’s a big play on people’s fears, but it has nothing to do with being CEO of Tennessee.” Fortunately, neither does being God’s right-hand man.