COLUMN: Ten Commandments are part of American history

Amy Peet

The Alabama debate over the presence of a monument to the Ten Commandments in the state’s judicial building began in October 2001, when three lawyers sued the state, demanding the monument be removed. U.S. District Judge Myron Thompson ruled in favor of the plaintiffs, but Alabama Chief Justice Roy Moore, who had installed the monument in July 2001, appealed the decision.

In July of this year, the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals upheld Thompson’s decision and ruled the installation of the monument had violated the Constitution. The court-mandated deadline for its removal came last Wednesday — and went, with the monument still standing amidst a band of prayerful, peaceful protesters, many of whom have remained in the week since the scheduled removal. Some have vowed to form a human chain around the monument should officials arrive with the equipment necessary to remove the 5,300 pound slab.

The Constitution’s precise wording has been touted by both sides as the legal justification of their position. But upon examining the First Amendment (“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech …”), it becomes difficult to see where people ever got the idea that all public property must be devoid of all religious artifacts.

The three lawyers who brought the suit did so because they were “offended,” to quote the official ruling of the 11th Circuit. They were not forcibly compelled to pray at the monument, to practice what it preached or even to acknowledge it in any way. They were just offended by its silent presence. Since “protection from being offended” is not explicitly mandated by the Constitution, it’s an arguably dangerous precedent to say anything that offends someone must be removed from public property.

After all, everyone is offended by something. Someone offended by seeing a Muslim pray at the designated times of day could, in theory, demand to be protected from having to witness it. The same goes for Christian groups on campus who hand out surveys at the beginning of each school year, and for orthodox Jews who wear traditional clothing in public places. In public, there’s always someone who will be offended.

Of course, two of the original plaintiffs in the case argued the monument offended them so much that they took extraordinary lengths to avoid entering the building. One incurred financial damages by purchasing law books online rather than in the building and hiring messengers to deliver documents to the building. Apparently the court was moved with pity for this persecuted individual, but it’s possible that many private citizens were just disgusted; after all, in a country that is ever trying to embrace broader diversity, where was this lawyer’s tolerance for the religious beliefs of others?

One could look at the monument as a historical document — an ancient code of ethics that has influenced the societies of the Western world for three millennia. It’s no coincidence that for the first two centuries of this country’s existence, all businesses were closed on Sundays. This practice still endures across Europe, where it’s often government-mandated. Most reasonable people would also agree that it’s wrong to lie, cheat on your spouse, steal, or murder. One could look at most of these “Commandments” as simply good advice for leading a happy and healthy life.

If it makes some people feel better about the world, and it in no way imposes any beliefs on anyone in the community, then does it really hurt the less zealous among us to simply walk by and ignore it? Isn’t it another valuable opportunity to experience the diversity in this country, especially for folks who don’t otherwise spend much time around passionate Christians?

And as for the insubordination of Moore and his ilk, one could look at their struggle against the rule of law as an act of civil disobedience. In rebuttal to being likened by the 11th Circuit to the defiant segregationist Governor George Wallace, Moore compared his struggle to the civil rights campaign led by Martin Luther King, Jr.

The relentless clamor of some hard-core religious groups can grow tiresome, as may be happening in Moore’s case, whose every breath alludes to God and the Ten Commandments as “the moral foundation of our law.” But, in another vein, it can also be refreshing to hear that, in this tired, cynical world full of tragedy and suffering, there are still people who can adhere to their belief in something greater.