Alleged satanists set up Capitol display. Rest of world takes bait

The Iowa State Capitol, like many of the other 49 bastions of federalism and legislation, allows religious displays in its halls during the holiday season. Gov. Kim Reynolds herself hosted a Christmas tree lighting ceremony on Nov. 27 at the Rotunda, a tasteful celebration for one of Iowans’ many faiths, held on government property.

The state has had spats with religious displays in the past. A case in 1989 reached the 8th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals when Jewish celebrants were denied a request to leave their menorah up overnight during Hanukkah, a denial the court upheld, according to the Des Moines Register. According to the same outlet, a group of around 50 people showed up for the opening of the first Nativity scene at the Capitol in 2016, which seemed to ruffle some feathers, but not too many.

Martin Cannon, an attorney for the Thomas Moore Society, told the Register at the time that the display was protected by the same rules protecting free speech in any other public space.

“This is the quintessential public sidewalk,” he said. “Right here, subject to reasonable constraints that serve decorum and simple management, it is a public space.”

The Iowa ACLU offered no objection, as long as people of other beliefs were given an equal chance to host displays in the building.

Smash cut. It’s Dec. 2, 2023. The Satanic Temple of Iowa has completed the requisite paperwork, and installed its own display in the halls of the legislature: a depiction of Baphomet — a goat-headed pagan deity that nonbelievers were accused of worshipping during at least seven of the crusades, but whose symbolism was eventually embraced by occult movements — on the right-hand side of the building’s grand staircase.

On Tuesday morning, I (and every other journalist registered for updates from the governor’s office) got an email from Reynolds, condemning the display as “absolutely objectionable,” but declining calls to take it down.

“In a free society, the best response to objectionable speech is more speech,” she said in the emailed statement. “I encourage all those of faith to join me today in praying over the Capitol and recognizing the Nativity scene that will be on display — the true reason for the season.”

And make no mistake, there have been several calls for the display’s removal before its registration expires, by the end of this week.

Brad Sherman, a State House Representative from Williamsburg, argued in his newsletter on Dec. 8 that the display contradicted the Hawkeye State’s constitutional preamble, which thanks “the Supreme Being for the blessings hitherto enjoyed,” and was equivalent to, “surrender(ing) to Satan’s demands for equality with God.”

In a shocker to absolutely nobody, I disagree with Mr. Sherman. Big surprise, I know: Award-Winning Journalist Kalen McCain, established harbinger of bad news and debate coach in his spare time, doesn’t like the idea of government bodies removing unpopular points of view from the public, or any potential violations of the First Amendment in general. Who’d have guessed?

I’m personally a fan of the response from Rep. Jon Dunwell, another Republican legislator, who is also a pastor.

“My observation as an Iowan and a State Representative, I don’t want the state evaluating and making determinations about religions. I am guided by the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution,” he wrote, in a rather lengthy Tweet on Dec. 8. “My faith is never imposed upon others, nor should it ever become a direct part of government … I don’t want to mix the kingdoms! Government is a poor arbitrator of religion.”

But there’s more to this than a freedom of speech debate.

A quick trip to The Satanic Temple’s website reveals a more or less reasonable set of "seven tenets,“ some of which feel a little political, as do aspects of many religions. Think LGBTQ+ issues, abortion, conscientious objections from the draft, etc.

Many of The Satanic Temple’s tenets are surprisingly in line with conservative values, however. A post summarizing these tenets on the organization’s Iowa branch Facebook page champions “rejection of arbitrary authority,” while a line from the group’s official website argues that “The freedoms of others should be respected, including the freedom to offend.”

OK, so they oppose big government and disagree with “Cancel Culture.” Both of these sound a lot like Republican presidential candidate talking points, so far.

Others lean to the left, like the premise, “one’s body is inviolable, subject to one’s own will alone,” a guiding principle broadly understood to allow for abortion.

Some lines, like, “One should take care never to distort scientific facts to fit one's beliefs,” are far from apolitical, but don’t fit neatly into one camp of ideology. Democrats are just as mad about climate change denial as Republicans are about fake news, for instance.

The belief system was recognized as a tax-exempt religion under federal law in 2019 — during the Trump administration, for what it’s worth — with approval from the IRS.

The "church“ has something of a branding problem, though. Namely that The Satanic Temple isn’t actually cool with the bad guy from the Bible. Followers don’t even believe in Satan as a figure, it turns out. They just use “satanic” imagery (goats, inverted pentagrams, you get it,) to promote the general notion of skepticism and critical thinking which, in my experience, are healthy skills to exercise.

And its followers believe very strongly in those principals, just like others for any number of alternative organized religions.

It’s possible to be ordained by The Satanic Temple for weddings. Many of its congregations offer peer support groups for folks struggling to recover from addiction. Activists from the group notably worked to help relocate displaced refugees from terrorist attacks in Paris in 2015.

Some critics argue the Temple is a sham, a thought experiment akin to the parody Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. While it may have started that way, it seems to have evolved in the years since. After all, at least a few people seem to agree with The Satanic Temple’s values enough to get married under it, or attend regular services, pr pray according to its doctrines. Doing so must not be easy, but history contains many times and places that Christianity or Judaism or Buddhism were forbidden, and practiced all the same. Belief is not an easy thing to shake.

Whether The Satanic Temple turns out to align with your views or not, what one person views as a “manufactured religion” is often someone else’s firmly held belief. Wars have been fought over this stuff. It’s not the kind of thing people are known for compromising on.

In any case, you’re allowed to disagree with something without declaring “spiritual warfare” against it. You might even find parts you agree with, like the embrace of free speech, or encouragement of truth-telling. Both of those things are objectively pretty cool, as long as you can get past the goat head imagery.

Not to read too far into the display, but it seems to have had its intended effect: it’s sparked a debate, it has people reflecting on their views and the views of others, it’s prompted expressions of skepticism from across the political spectrum. Maybe it’s even caused some folks to listen to one another. And whatever the beliefs of those who started the conversation, that’s probably a good thing.

Lucien Greaves, co-founder of the religion, certainly seems to be pleased with the outcome.

“We're going to really relish the opportunity to be represented in a public forum,” he said in an interview with KCCI. “We don't have a church on every street corner.”

Comments: Kalen.McCain@southeastiowaunion.com