FAITH WORKS - A DEFENSE OF THE PRESIDENT'S INITIATIVE

When Cipriano Martinez walked through the doors of Teen Challenge of
South Texas 11 years ago, victory over drugs seemed unlikely: For
Martinez, a balanced diet meant heroin, cocaine, downers, and booze.
In and out of prison, he'd already flunked half a dozen drug treatment
programs.

Teen Challenge staffers employ many of the same forms of treatment
secular counselors use -- anger management, job training, and family
skills -- but there is a big difference. "We don't believe in the
'once an addict, always an addict' model," explains Jim Heurich,
executive director of the South Texas chapter. "We believe that
addicts are changed and healed when Christ comes in."

Martinez agrees that hearts can be changed. His was. And he's been
drug-free for 10 years. Such success stories are why President Bush
is making government support for faith-based social programs his
signature policy.

Not surprisingly, Bush's proposals have stirred controversy. Secular
critics on the right and left have a built-in aversion to religion in
public life. But even some of us who advocate for more religious
vitality in the public sphere (as did both the Gore-Lieberman and the
Bush-Cheney tickets during the recent campaign) have significant
concerns that need to be addressed.

One fear is that government funding will force faith communities to
compromise their beliefs. Of course, faith groups that have such
fears need not accept government money. Indeed, some have already
decided not to. Others, however, including the Salvation Army,
Samaritan's Purse, and World Vision, have proven that they can both
accept government aid and preserve their independence.

Another fear is that our taxes will end up funding explicitly
religious activity. A string of Supreme Court decisions forbids this.
And President Bush is firmly against letting it happen. A church-run
homeless shelter can use government funds for bed and board, but not
Bibles. A faith-based drug treatment program can put government cash
towards computer training, but not communion wafers.

But isn't religious conversion the central purpose and method of many
faith-based groups? Of course. Without conversion of heart, they
have nothing better to offer than secular groups. But faith-based
groups can and do segregate funds. Indeed, it is in their own
interest to keep government and church separate from each other.

Some conservatives fear that controversial groups like the Nation of
Islam and the Church of Scientology will seek government funds. They
already can and do. The Charitable Choice Act passed by Congress two
sessions ago allows faith-based programs to compete on an equal
footing with secular groups for grants intended to achieve social
goals. The Bush proposals rest on legislation already in operation.

This legislation, in fact, makes it hard for controversial groups to
receive funding. First, any group that applies for funds -- be it
secular or religious -- must by law meet stringent performance
standards. Second, Charitable Choice makes it easier to tell if a
charity is succeeding in its mission. Before the advent of Charitable
Choice, many organizations won grants in a cloudy atmosphere of
unclear standards and lack of competition.

There are other legal protections worth considering.
Government-funded faith programs can neither compel people to
participate in religious activities nor discriminate against
recipients who embrace other faiths. Presbyterians may decline to
hire Muslims to operate a Presbyterian after-school program, but they
may not discriminate against Muslims who bring their children for care.

Experience shows that many of the needy will pick faith-based programs
because they know these programs work. Success rates of those who
attend secular drug treatment programs seldom top 10 percent.
Contrast that with Teen Challenge, which boasts a success rate of 86
percent (based on two rigorous independent studies performed 24 years
apart).

Prison Fellowship Ministries has seen firsthand the success of
faith-based reductions in recidivism. Three years ago, then governor
Bush gave Prison Fellowship permission to operate the first
faith-based prison in America, known as the InnerChange Freedom
Initiative in Houston. For 18 hours a day, prisoners who volunteer
for the program are immersed in intensive life-skills training and
Bible study. After 18 months, they are released, matched with a
mentor, given a job, and welcomed in a local church. So far, it has
demonstrated remarkable effectiveness. We can report that of the 121
prisoners who have completed the program only 7 are back in custody.
That is a recidivism rate of 6 percent, far below a national average
that runs between 40 percent and 60 percent.

But the mission of President Bush's faith-based initiative isn't
simply to help private charities do what they do well. It is to
change the way we deal with social problems in America. Critics on
the left actually understand this better than many on the right.
President Bush wants to replace the tangle of failed government
programs with highly motivated intermediate structures: churches,
community groups, and so on. The idea is to energize concern for the
needy from the bottom up.

In empowering local, faith-based groups, President Bush is
revitalizing public notions of moral responsibility. Such notions are
not only good for society as a whole but for the individual in need of
rehabilitation. One of us (Chuck Colson) has worked in the criminal
justice field for 25 years and seen many programs fail precisely
because they treat behavior antiseptically. They ignore the learning
of real virtues and the turning of the heart against vices. And they
leave out a man's personal connection with his Creator.

Bureaucratic protocol makes it impossible to address the emptiness of
soul that goes along with drugs and other forms of self-abuse. By
contrast, Teen Challenge, which enthusiastically supports the
president's initiatives, labors under no such restrictions. Its
leaders understand what moves people to change their lives. As
Cipriano Martinez puts it, at Teen Challenge he found people who "gave
me a reason for wanting to straighten my life out," people who "lifted
burdens I'd carried for years, and gave me peace, joy, love, and hope."