These days, religion is like that cousin who lives two towns over. He’s not around every day, but you can count on him to make an appearance at every family function, if only to indulge in juicy, open-grilled hotdogs and even juicier gossip. Religion will lay low for a while and keep to itself, but when the figurative hotdog meets political hotplate, the most incendiary topic of them all resurfaces without hesitation, to the surprise of no one.

With the news that presidential hopeful Barack Obama has left his church of more than 20 years, and with California and New York’s rulings to allow or acknowledge gay marriage, we’re beginning to see the religious element factor into the news again. This is the norm for an election year, as many voters want to cast their ballot for the candidate who best reflects their own religious values.

Religion has always played a grand hand in politics. This year’s election should prove interesting, however. Republican candidate John McCain is reluctant to discuss his religious views, while the campaign of the aforementioned Obama has suffered from comments made by his former reverend. The mainstay conservative candidate is pooling suspicion from more conservative voters, while the Democratic candidate, though mired by something of a controversy, is emphasizing his faith.

Politics and religion are conjoined twins, too proud to appear on “Maury,” but not above reminding you of their proximity every other day. The controversy surrounding the recent gay marriage rulings point toward a nation of voters concerned with religious values, and America is in for one strange presidential race. We may bear witness to a significant evolution in the religion/politics relationship. (Although the two will remain conjoined—medical science has only come so far.)

Interestingly enough, though religion and politics have long been interrelated, the relationship hasn’t always been founded on who can appear the most faithful to the all-American, Christian God. In his book The God Delusion, Richard Dawkins, one of the world’s most distinguished and outspoken atheists, points out that many of America’s founding fathers had beliefs that ranged from agnosticism to full-blown atheism—although such terminology had yet to be cemented.

Benjamin Franklin, for example, once wrote: “The way to see by faith is to shut the eye of reason.” For added effect, we’ll share another Franklin quote: “I have found Christian dogma unintelligible. Early in life, I absenteed myself from Christian assemblies.” Hey, let’s do one more! This one is my favorite: “Lighthouses are more helpful than churches.”

If it seems strange that an American politician would publicly announce such things, particularly in the mid-1700s, then you should remember that, in the mid-1700s, America had not long separated itself from England for the right to establish a new nation founded on religious liberties. (Also, there was no Internet or Fox News, so our founding fathers didn’t have to worry about widespread backlash.)

I don’t agree with much of what Dawkins proposes in The God Delusion. While I am a proud agnostic, Dawkins is an extremist, and many of his views are irreconcilable with my belief system. However, when Dawkins proposes that a number of our politicians merely pretend to be religious to gain voter support, I think he’s spot on.

Religion is conjoined to American politics. Let’s be realistic here. If politicians were skeptics in the 1700s, are they all going to be shining beacons of Jesus-love in the 2000s? If our leaders were openly Buddhist or non-religious, think of the votes they’d lose. Just because a politician goes to church or says he talks to a deity (hello, G.W.) doesn’t mean he believes a word of “the Word.”

Leads to the question … what would America hate more? A closet homosexual, or a closet atheist? Many would agree with founding father John Adams when he said that “God is an essence that we know nothing of. Until this awful blasphemy is got rid of, there never will be any liberal science in the world.”

Me? I’m agnostic, so I don’t care one way or the other. For now, I’m going to enjoy cheeseburgers and watch something on TV that’s not Fox News. I’ll cross the immortal soul bridge when I get to it.

Charles Smith is a native Southwest Virginian and a cultural observer. He usually just observes that he’s hungry for cheeseburgers.

Graphic by Christian Keesee