Reading, writing, and religion.

Maybe, instead of school prayers, we should promote schools teaching about religion

The U.S. Constitution's prescription seems simple enough: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

Among other things, the Founding Fathers, in writing and ratifying this rule, wanted to make sure that in the United States there would be no national religion headed by a king or president or other high official, as the one they had left behind in England. In this they had their way. No one has ever seriously proposed there be an American national religion, and if one had, he or she would have been laughed out of court.

But the "free exercise" clause was another matter. What's free for you may be binding for me, and countless citizens and organizations have trudged off to court asking that their interpretation of the constitution prevail. Should oral prayer be permitted in public school classrooms or public programs such as commencement ceremonies? Should nativity scenes in public places be allowed?

Such questions have never been settled to the satisfaction of all or most of the U.S. citizenry. And yet the United States is probably the most religious nation in the world, with huge majorities not only believing in God and the major tenets of religion, but practicing their beliefs as well.

Strangely enough, American young people can go through at least 12 years of public schooling without studying religion in any form in their curriculum. Whenever an ambitious--if ill-advised--educator tries to infuse religion, say, in the form of Bible reading, into a classroom, the roof comes down on the beleaguered teacher. And no wonder. Our Bible is part Jewish and part Christian. What of students who profess neither faith? And with the possible exception of teaching the psalms as literature, the Bible, open as it is to many interpretations, cannot easily be incorporated into the curriculum of public schools.

In what might be a breakthrough in this dilemma, two public high schools in California have begun to experiment with classes that teach about religion. In a fascinating article in the Los Angeles Times, the efforts of two teachers in separate schools are described by L.A. Times writer Mary Rourke.

The story goes, "James Antenore of Irvine High School and Jim Maechling of Palos Verdes Peninsula High School developed comparative religion courses that explored a wide range of faiths without recommending one in particular.

"At Irvine High, Antenore structures his class with a traditional format. He concentrates on the largest Western and Asian religions, primarily Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, and Buddhism. He fits others such as Taoism and secular humanism around the main themes. Field trips to local religious centers and guest speakers from different faiths fell out the program.

"Maechling teaches the major religions as well. From there, he expands toward the non-mainstream, covering New Age religions in his last lecture. Students broaden the scope with class presentations on the subject of their choice. Recent topics explored the Amish, Yoga, the Bahais, wiccans, and even apocalyptic cults."

In both schools the teaching-about-religion courses are electives for juniors and seniors, and perhaps the most positive result from them is the curiosity about religion that they arouse in the students.

In the two California high schools, examples abound of the interest in religion generated by the experimental classes. One Christian student wanted to know more about the faith of a Muslim friend. An atheist wondered what it is, exactly, that religious people believe. All the students said they were surprised to discover their own prejudices.

"I thought Hindus spent the whole time praying in the temple," said Becky Law, who was raised Roman Catholic. "I assumed they believed in one God," said Julie Flegler, who is Jewish. She learned that Hindus worship many and Buddhists worship none.

How many graduates of public schools (or Catholic schools for that matter) would not prefer to emerge from their school days with a realization that religion is truly an integral part of life? On the other hand, as is too often the case today, how many are content to find a vacuum where religion ought to be in their lives?

Surely, in the latter category, are many of us who claim that we practice our religious faith. Does the meaning of our religious practice spill over--in the words of Archbishop Rembert Weakland--from Sunday (or Saturday) into the Mondays of our life?

An educated guess might be that the students who are learning about religion in California are more likely to accomplish such a spillover.