In the past weeks I keep being reminded of that old rock song by Stealer’s Wheel, featuring the chorus, “clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle with you.” Unfortunately, the words apply to some of the nation’s leading religious figures. And things don’t look so good, even as I keep telling myself that lots of us are stuck in the middle with the God we call by many names.

Let’s start with the raging sermons of Barack Obama’s minister/adviser, The Rev. Jeremiah Wright. And please don’t tell me that because the good senator from Illinois has suddenly asked him to step down from a formal position in the campaign, Obama gets a pass 

by now referring to him as “my former pastor.” The truth is that Obama should have stopped calling him his pastor long before the public outcry gave him no choice.  If we can talk about a shotgun wedding, then this should be called a shotgun divorce.

It’s not that Rev. Wright has not done many good things — he has. He has been a powerful voice for his community, and how it must assume responsibility for itself, advocate for its needs and care for its needy.  The fact that Sen. Obama has been inspired by this is something to be admired. But why is it that such empowerment was fueled by such rage against the nation, white people in general and Jews in particular?

The fact that Rev. Wright was saying all these things is not what’s so troubling, and it’s something I fully understand. I was once a follower of Rabbi Meir Kahane for many of the same reasons (although they were applied to the Jewish people and the State of Israel, and the concomitant hatred was toward Arabs in general and Palestinians in particular). But I came to appreciate that Rabbi Kahane shared many of Rev. Wright’s flaws and much of his rage, and that this marriage of effective political leadership and hate-filled invocations from the pulpit is getting scary.

And just to be clear, the problem is not limited to a single candidate. John McCain’s relationship with the Rev. John Hagee is not as close as Obama’s with Rev. Wright. But it is just as disconcerting, because it is dangerous when a leader of so many American Christians who is also a real power player in Republican politics makes truly denigrating comments about Catholics as Rev. Hagee did a few weeks back. McCain must do more than simply distance himself from such remarks. He must explain why those who support his bid for the presidency should not fear the undue influence of a man who, like the Rev. Wright, has done many wonderful things for both Christians and non-Christians alike, but seems incapable of restraining the contempt he feels for those who see the world, politically or theologically, different than he does.

But for me, the problem of raging religious leaders hits closer to home as well. As a Jew, a traditional Jew, a rabbi, and an American, I find the recent statement by Rabbi Herschel Schachter, one of America’s most influential Orthodox rabbis, that “we should shoot the [Israeli] prime minister,” if any government in Israel is prepared to give up the sovereignty of Jerusalem, deeply disturbing and not altogether dissimilar from the words of Pastors Wright and Hagee. 

Genuine spiritual leadership accepts responsibility for the impact of its teachings beyond the walls of the synagogue, mosque or church.  When it does not, it is not good leadership, or it is not good spiritual teaching.  We need to ask a number of serious questions about how religious leaders are functioning right now, especially as they hope to mobilize their faithful in pursuit of political goals.

First, why are the voices of anger most effective at organizing people of faith when it comes to politics? To be sure, the less angry voices exist, and they even motivate many humanitarian projects. But when it comes to the heavy lifting of political engagement, I am sad to say that in all faith communities, the angry voices are the most effective voices.

Second, why are there so many silent supporters of so much sacred rage? Jeremiah Wright and John Hagee may be only the tip of the spear, but there are many religious leaders who support them both actively and passively. (And Rabbi Schachter’s devotees vent their anger at their rebbe’s critics rather than at his appalling statements.)

Finally, since this does not appear to be a sin that is unique to either the left or the right, all people of faith must begin to question the viability of the claim that faith and politics can or must inform each other. Perhaps our faiths are nothing more than places of refuge from the real challenges of this world, which are addressed in the political realm. But if that is all they are, are they really worth it?

The time has come for all of us to reach back to those models of politically engaged faith in each of our traditions that mobilized the masses not so much through rage about what occurred in the past, but by holding out a vision of how we can all move forward together.