In a mellow state (continued)

MORE THAN A HINT of religiosity still intersects with politics in Rhode Island, even if it’s a fraction of what it once was. Last September, for example, Providence Journal political columnist M. Charles Bakst rapped Frank Williams, chief justice of the Rhode Island Supreme Court, for using "the prestige of his public office [by using court stationery] to urge state judges to take part" in a special gathering known as a Red Mass, "intended to invoke God’s blessing on the administration of justice," at the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul. Williams told Bakst that the service had a broad purpose, adding that he promoted it, "Because I happen to be the leader of the judiciary and I would go anywhere for the blessing of God on our judiciary." (Court spokeswoman Dyana Koelsch didn’t return a call seeking comment.)

Of course, such things are quite different from the way in which female elected officials, such as Arlene Violet and then US-Representative Claudine Schneider, were once denied access to parishes and processions on occasion because of their pro-choice views. Meanwhile, departing from church doctrine did nothing to impede access, Violet recalls, for those male politicians who supported the death penalty or cheated on their wives.

Greater public recognition of this kind of hypocrisy might explain why the recent discussion around Communion and elected officials hasn’t engendered feverish conversation in Rhode Island.

As Violet, now a talk-show host for WHJJ-AM, says, "If carried to its logical conclusion, it would mean that Catholics would not be allowed to run for office . . . A pro-lifer like George Bush would potentially get the vote even though he presided over that massive" use of the death penalty while the governor of Texas, and spearheaded the use of preemptive war in Iraq. In terms of the abortion piece, Violet says, "It looks like it’s just one more attack on women’s right to choose."

Morancy, now the executive director of the Rhode Island chapter of the Alzheimer’s Association, believes, like Violet, that Catholics generally are not going to listen if the hierarchy tacitly endorses candidates based on their seeming adherence to doctrine. "The Catholic Church is on the record in opposition to the death penalty," she adds. "If they’re going to try to muscle people into supporting their agenda, the hierarchy should be just as strong against people who support the death penalty."

URI’s Moakley offered a contrasting view, saying, "While you probably don’t have to worry in Rhode Island, nationally, it could be a problem for Kerry in a close election."

Former US Representative Robert Weygand, who like Langevin is a pro-life Democrat, however, agreed with Violet and Morancy. Asked what impact the topic will have on voters, he says, "I think when it comes right down to it, absolutely nothing. Those people of that particular belief and opinion, I think they’ve already made their decision." Now an administration official at URI, Weygand initially demurred when asked for his view of the larger issue, ultimately saying, "I think in all religions there are differences of opinion, and when you start mixing religion with politics, it’s a formula for disaster. I think they should be separate, and I’ve never tried to impose my belief and faith on others."

Warwick Mayor Scott Avedisian, who is Episcopalian, says that although he has no intention of telling a faith other than his own how to conduct itself, he was nonetheless concerned about the impact of statements about Communion and politicians. Avedisian, a Republican, likened the situation to suggestions that people couldn’t remain in the GOP if they support choice. "I think it only further divides people when there are many issues that people agree on," he says. Nonetheless, Avedisian indicates he has not heard public discussion of the Communion topic in Rhode Island’s second-largest city.

Diocesan spokesman William Halpin didn’t return a call seeking comment. In a statement to the Providence Journal in April, Mulvee and his auxiliary, Bishop Robert J. McManus, downplayed remarks by Cardinal Francis Arinze, seen as a strong candidate to become the next pope, who helped to launch the issue by saying that clearly pro-abortion Catholic politicians are "not fit" to receive Communion. In their statement, Mulvee and McManus noted that the American hierarchy has established a committee to examine the issue of elected officials and abortion, and pointed to a section in a new document that says sacraments can’t be denied "to those who seek them in a reasonable manner, are rightly disposed, and are not prohibited by law from receiving them."

While the church has long wielded influence in Rhode Island politics, it’s more subtle. "Today, the imprimatur is given by other kinds of recognition," such as the invocations offered at fundraisers, Violet says, than the time when bishops told would-be candidates whether they could run for office. Like some other observers, she also credits Mulvee for his level of social activism. "One of the things that I like about him is that he really does things for poor people," Violet says. "He goes down to St. Francis Chapel, and dishes out soup. I think he tries to stay in touch with the grassroots . . . I think he looks at things in a broad picture."

In some ways, the situation comes down to differing views of the church — clashing views that coincide with a liberal-conservative split in American politics.

As Violet recalls, in her upbringing, the Catholic thing to do was to try to correct a problem or an injustice. "I thought running for AG was a Sister of Mercy kind of thing to do," says Violet, who won the office on her second run, in 1984, bringing to bear a crusading style that inspired the sobriquet, "Attila the Nun." Similarly, other public-minded Catholics, like Liz Morancy, Mary Ann Sorrentino, and anti-poverty activist Henry Shelton took up the cause.

In Rhode Island, if the church hasn’t entirely embraced this "prophetic voice" interpretation of Catholicism, it’s still far closer to it than was the case during the pitched battles of the ’80s.

Ian Donnis can be reached at idonnis[a]phx.com.