Let's return to the discussion about the common good that we started here a couple of weeks ago. Our panelists had good responses to the first question, so let's follow up with this one:

To what extent should government define the common good?

Let me offer this recent essay by Ross Douthat in the New York Times as a way to frame the discussion. Here's what Douthat wrote:

"When liberals are in a philosophical mood, they like to cast debates over the role of government not as a clash between the individual and the state, but as a conflict between the individual and the community. Liberals are for cooperation and joint effort; conservatives are for self-interest and selfishness. Liberals build the Hoover Dam and the interstate highways; conservatives sit home and dog-ear copies of "The Fountainhead." Liberals know that it takes a village; conservatives pretend that all it takes is John Wayne.

Unlike most communal organizations, the government has coercive power -- the power to regulate, to mandate and to tax. These advantages make it all too easy for the state to gradually crowd out its rivals. The more things we "do together" as a government, in many cases, the fewer things we're allowed to do together in other spheres."

Read on for insightful essays on this subject.

According to a new study by the Pew Research Center's Forum on Religion and Public Life, white evangelical Protestants are now more heavily Republican than four years ago. No surprise. But the same thing's happening with white mainline Protestants. And with white Catholics. Four years ago, white Catholics were more inclined to identify with the Democratic Party (49 percent) than the Republican Party (41 percent). Now it's reversed. And it doesn't matter whether you're talking about people who go to church regularly (at least once a week) or less regularly.

The shift toward the Republican Party among Protestant and Catholics is even more pronounced among those under 30. And, perhaps more surprising, Pew found the same thing among Jews, long strong supporters of the Democratic Party. In 2008, 72 percent of Jews identified themselves with Democrats; now it's 65 percent. There's been a slight shift among religiously unaffiliated voters, but mostly the movement is among religious people.

Across almost every major religious group, the share of voters identifying with or leaning toward the GOP has either grown or held steady. So what's going on? Why has the number of religious voters identifying themselves as Democrats declined - and as Republicans risen? Why do you think this is happening?

We asked our panel of Texas Faith experts to weigh in. Their responses follow:

President Obama made the case for the common good, as he saw it, in his State of the Union address. Jackie Calmes of the New York Times summarized his theme this way: "Government and citizens are responsible together for the common good, even as they celebrate individualism and free markets."

Of course, you might say. Shared responsibilities and creating room for the individual to flourish are major elements of our national creed.

But how do we build a common good today?

The president, for example, wants clean energy, better schools and housing opportunities for more Americans. Good goals, but they cost money. And we are $14 trillion in debt. Someone has to pay for all these new ideas, including the ones that Republicans offer. Often, it is the rich who are asked to pay, which leads some to wonder why they are singled out to pay for the common good.

I'm not here to ask you to give readers a balanced budget plan. Others can take on that unenviable chore.

But I would like you all to talk about how the country can create a greater sense of the common good. We hear plenty about how political bodies can shape it, but I'd especially like to hear what other institutions could play a role. And how they could shape the common good, or perhaps are shaping it.

The Denver Broncos may be out of the NFL playoffs, but Denver QB Tim Tebow is not out of the news. In fact, the art of Tebowing , where people record themselves bowing in prayer on one knee like Tebow does, has become a phenomenon. The online world has plenty of examples of Tebowing. And the mainstream media has published article after article about Tebowing and the football player's public display of faith.

Of course, Tebow's explicit display of religion has led to a fair share of criticism. He's seen as too proselytizing or violating the biblical injunction to pray in your room.

Tebow told Fox Sports last fall that he knows about the criticism, but he's more focused on those who draw inspiration from his public prayers. Said Tebow:

"It's not my job to see people's reasons behind it, but I know [of a kid] with cancer that tweeted me, 'Tebowing while I'm chemoing' -- how cool is that?" Tebow said. "That's worth it right now. If that gives him any encouragement or puts a smile on his face, or gives him encouragement to pray, that's completely awesome."

With this phenomenon swirling around us, and the Super Bowl approaching, here is this week's question:

What is your view about his public praying and the Tebowing phenomenon that has built up around it?

On Monday, we paused to honor the legacy of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He arguably had the greatest influence of any religious figure on American politics and culture. And his contributions have been appropriately chronicled. Because of his work, many aspects of American life have changed since the 1960s.

But beyond Dr. King, which religious figure has had a major impact on American politics or culture through their preaching, ideas or actions?

Perhaps the person you have in mind is obscure, but don't worry about that. I'd like to hear from you which religious figure(s) have had an impact on our society, even if they are not well known.

The Dallas Morning News' Wayne Slater and Texas Faith moderator Wayne Slater reported last week that a group of prominent conservative evangelical leaders are
gathering at a Texas ranch this weekend to decide about a candidate they could
unite behind as an alternative to Mitt Romney.

The invited include James Dobson of Focus on the Family, Richard Land of the
Southern Baptist Convention, Christian Zionist pastor John Hagee, Kelly
Shackelford of the Liberty Institute and Don Wildmon of the American Family
Association. Southern Baptist leader Paul Pressler is hosting them.

With that as the background, here is this week's question:

If you were invited to join other religious leaders in coalescing behind a
candidate, would you attend?

If your answer is yes, please explain why.

If your answer is no, please give your reasons.

In this New York Times essay, which panelist Cynthia Rigby sent along, author Eric Weiner talks about the rise of the Nones, those who polling data suggests are neither "true believers" nor "angry atheists." Nones have no religious affiliation, but that doesn't mean they are turning away from God, as Weiner writes.

The part of the piece that interested me most comes at the last. Weiner offers this provocative conclusion:

We need a Steve Jobs of religion. Someone (or ones) who can invent not a new religion but, rather, a new way of being religious. Like Mr. Jobs's creations, this new way would be straightforward and unencumbered and absolutely intuitive. Most important, it would be highly interactive. I imagine a religious space that celebrates doubt, encourages experimentation and allows one to utter the word God without embarrassment. A religious operating system for the Nones among us. And for all of us.

With that as the set-up, here's this week's question:

Do we need a Steve Jobs of religion, an innovative thinker who can "invent not a new religion but, rather, a new way of being religious?"

If so, where would that person come from? And what would they try to offer?
If you don't think we need a "Steve Jobs of religion," please explain why.

Texas Faith will return on Wednesday, January 4. Until then, have a happy new year!

Let's take a break from thinking so hard about topical events and use this week to explain what religious insights you may have had this year that reshaped the way you view the world. Was it something you read? Experienced? Saw? Heard? If so, what touched you?

If nothing like that happened, don't worry. Just explain how you think your faith shaped the way you saw the world in 2011.

We are now full bore into the Christmas season, where parties are being held, presents are being bought and Santa's sleigh is about to reappear as a mystery to young children.

At the same time, churches are rolling out classic hymns, malls resound with music from the season and the drive home from work is made less tense by the car radio playing Christmas carols. Even for those who do not participate in this unique time on the Christian calendar, music is a way to share in the season.

Which leads to this week's question:

Why is music so central to Christmas - or any other religious story?

Editor's Note: I am posting this week's question on behalf of Wayne Slater, who presented the question to our panelists last week.

The rise of Newt Gingrich and fall of Herman Cain have rekindled the debate over what standards we expect in the private lives of our political candidates. Adherents of the view that sexual immorality speaks to the issue of character make a good point - character is an essential ingredient in picking our leaders. If a man has broken his commitment to be faithful to his spouse, so goes the conventional wisdom, why would we believe he would be true to his commitment to his office and his country?

Sexual immorality is a sin - and a serious one. There are other sins -- pride, envy, wrath and sloth. And gluttony. Based on our history, those aren't disqualifying attributes. There's no question that having an affair as Cain is accused of and Gingrich has admitted is a bad thing. But should it be a disqualifier for office? Are we at a point that the only men who can run for president are those who have only made love to their wive(s) or have the undying loyalty of their paramours? Should someone who has sinned in this particular way no longer be qualified to be a political leader?

And that's the question:

Should this moral standard, and the public attention that goes along with it, disqualify an otherwise capable candidate from holding office? Is the nation better off because of it?

Texas Faith took a Thanksgiving break and will return on Tuesday, December 6.

Thanksgiving Day.

It's a holiday that many people often say is their favorite one. No gifts to buy. No parties to attend. Just families and friends sharing a meal around the table.

But why should we be thankful?

The nation faces a massive debt. Washington is polarized. We're at war to keep terrorists from striking us. Poverty rates are alarming. The gap between rich and the middle class is widening. And that's before you even get off the front page.

So, why should we be thankful? And what should we be thankful for, either personally or at the larger national/global level?

Read on for some very poetic, thoughtful and provocative answers.

In a conversation last week with Eric Metaxas, author of Bonhoeffer: Martyr, Prophet, Spy and now Socrates in the City: Conversations on Life, God, and Other Small Topics, he brought up the distinction between faith in God and dogma and morality.

As an example, he pointed to how dogma can become an idol of its own. People worship the tenets of their faith, not the God who is behind it.

Likewise, moralists can be pinched sourpusses. Their rigid code becomes a substitute for religious faith.

Of course, people of any faith need some guiding beliefs. Otherwise, their faith is grounded in nothing more than their subjective ideas.

So, as part of our ongoing debate about how people of any religious
tradition balance faith and dogma, how would you respond to this
question:

Is there a distinction between faith in God and dogma and morality?

As you know, Herman Cain faces allegations that he sexually harassed female employees during his time at the National Restaurant Association. The Republican fervently denies the charges, although there are reports that settlements have been made in these cases. Cain's story about those settlements continues to evolve.

As this story unfolds, I would like to hear you talk about the obligation of the women in this episode. It is natural that they would want to avoid a media firestorm. But don't they have a moral obligation to step forward and tell their side of the story, like former NRA employee Sharon Bialek did on Monday?

If nothing happened, shouldn't they be explicit about that? But if something did happen, shouldn't they provide details? After all, Americans are trying to evaluate the campaign of a rising presidential front-runner who says he did no wrong.

A spokesman for San Antonio megapastor John Hagee asked to elaborate on his views about Iran's effort to get nuclear weapons. Hagee was responding to a column on the Trailblazers political blog about how Rick Perry is channeling Hagee's view.

Here's the link to the response by Ari Morgenstern:

Baylor's Wave III religion survey, which came out in late September, takes a look at the connection between religion and mental health. Among the findings, the authors report that:

"When it comes to religion, beliefs are more important than are behavior or affiliation...Frequency of prayer has no consistent effect on the number of reported mental health issues in past month. Respondents who pray every day report statistically the same number of mental health issues as those who never pray or pray only on certain occasions."

Likewise, the authors report:

"Prayer, religious attendance, and religious affiliation, three mainstay measures of religiosity in Western culture, have no effect on the number of reported mental health issues."

But here's the part that makes a difference:

"When it comes to mental health, the aspect of religion that matters the most is the nature of one's relationship with God." The authors concluded that "Those respondents who believe that they have a strong, loving relationship with God report fewer mental health issues, while those respondents who report more ambiguity in their relationship with God report more mental health issues."

With that as background, here's the question for this week:

How do you interpret this data about the supremacy of a strong, loving relationship with God?

With all the talk about religion and politics in a non-stop cable TV culture that routinely takes up matters of faith in a political context, one word is rarely mentioned: sin. There's plenty of talk about values and morality, but that might be the point - morality carries with it a secular sheen, unsullied by old-time religion.

Rabbi Eric Yoffie, president of the Union for Reform Judaism, notes that even in religious circles we fear the language of sin and rush to avoid it. He suggests that liberals are so anxious to see the good, they are so reasonable and tolerant, that evil is better expressed in secular terms. Conservatives will invoke sin, but often about behavior that they don't like - homosexuality, for example. In other words, in the other person.

As Yoffie recently wrote, "Absent sin, we are not responsible. Absent sin, there is no moral precision. Absent sin, there is no moral judgment. Absent sin, there can be no forgiveness."

So would it be better if sin were part of our political vocabulary?

First, we had the Tea Party movement. Now, we have the Occupy Wall Street movement. Both are citizen-driven efforts to get our leaders' attention.

At this point, though, it is hard to grasp what precisely drives the Occupy movement. New York Times columnist David Brooks described it this way:

"If there is a core theme to the Occupy Wall Street movement, it is that the virtuous 99 percent of society is being cheated by the richest and greediest 1 percent. This is a theme that allows the people in the 99 percent to think very highly of themselves. All their problems are caused by the nefarious elite. Unfortunately, almost no problem can be productively conceived in this way."

Here, then, is the question for this week:

How do you interpret the Occupy movement? What do you think it says about American society?

Baylor University released its latest survey of religion in America last month. As always, there's plenty to digest. The findings about competing beliefs in heaven and hell especially caught my eye.

According to the survey, more people believe in heaven than hell. That's perhaps not surprising. Most of us like the idea of heaven more than hell.

But the report also showed that people who believed in both were more satisfied with their jobs, strove for excellence and found meaning in their work. This is how the report framed this discovery:

"The majority of people who absolutely believe in Heaven and Hell are always or often motivated by their faith to pursue excellence, which certainly would please most organization owners. This relationship is strongest among those who absolutely believe in Hell."

So, what does this say to you? Why would it be that a strong belief in heaven and hell are a motivating factor in people's lives?

After Osama bin Laden was killed, we talked about whether, drawing from your religious perspective, you would have sanctioned his death if you had been an adviser to the president. Most of you, in one way or another, said that you thought his death should not be celebrated, but that it would fit under the just war theory.

Fast forward a few months, and now word comes that the U.S. has used Drone missiles to kill Anwar al-Awlaki. The Washington Post described him as "a radical U.S.-born Muslim cleric and one of the most influential al-Qaeda leaders wanted by the United States."

Anwar al-Awlaki reportedly had influenced the major who attacked his fellow soldiers at Fort Hood. And President Obama, in discussing the death, called him the
"leader of external operations for al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula." The president also said of him, "In that role, he took the lead in planning and directing efforts to murder innocent Americans."

But al-Awlaki was an American citizen. And some have responded that U.S. forces should not be used to kill another American. What's more, he was not as big a figure as Osama bin Laden, the mastermind of 9/11 who became the symbol of terrorism in the 21st century.

There are several ways to get into this question, but I am going to pose it in a broad way:

Does the just war theory legitimize the slaying of Anwar al-Awlaki, a fellow American?

If so, why?

If not, why not?

When Christian broadcaster Pat Robertson told a caller on his TV show that a married man dating another woman because his wife was suffering from Alzheimer's "should divorce and start all over," it caused a predictable reaction. Even his co-host reminded Robertson that couples vow to remain together "for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer." But Robertson did not back off: "I hate Alzheimer's. It is one of the most awful things because, here is a loved one, this is the woman or man that you have loved for 20, 30, 40 years, and suddenly, that person is gone. They're gone. They are gone." Alzheimer's, he said, "is a kind of death." And he said he would not put a "guilt trip on someone who divorced for such a reason."

What to make of this? Conservative Christian leaders were swift to condemn Robertson's remarks. But as the New York Times reported, many doctors and patient advocates had a more complex response - some suggesting that he had broached an important subject, how spouses and other family members of dying patients can prevent their lives from being engulfed and start to move on.

How do we reconcile the practical and moral conflicts in Robertson's advice? Is it ever right to divorce a spouse suffering from Alzheimer's? What is the morally acceptable thing for people who develop new relationships while caring for a spouse in the last stages of Alzheimer's?

Our Texas Faith panel weighs in with some provocative, and often surprising, answers on a very difficult issue.

The three Abrahamic faiths are known for being monotheistic religions. They worship one Deity, even though they may leave room for several concepts of the Divine. For example, Christians believe in the Trinity.

But other faiths aren't monotheistic. They allow for more than one god. As Texas Faith panelist Amy Martin wrote in an email:
"If you ask a Hindu if they are monotheistic, they will acknowledge the all-encompassing nature of the Brahma and say that all theisr gods and goddesses are simply aspects of that godhead. Even pagans say the same thing. The spiritual-not-religious, like Buddhists, posit an all-is-one divine energy, but do not define it as God."

Over time, these concepts have shaped traditions, cultures and even nations. So, for this week I'd like to hear your answer to this question:

Do you think monotheism is a superior form of religious belief?
If so, why? If not, why not?

With the drought creating havoc across Texas, including leading to brutal fires in Central Texas, it's not uncommon to hear people either jokingly or seriously assert that they are going to pray for rain. Gov. Rick Perry even issued a proclamation last April asking Texans to pray for rain over a 72-hour period. Part of the proclamation read this way:

"WHEREAS, throughout our history, both as a state and as individuals, Texans have been strengthened, assured and lifted up through prayer; it seems right and fitting that the people of Texas should join together in prayer to humbly seek an end to this devastating drought and these dangerous wildfires;"

What is your view on this?

Should Texans or, for that matter, others afflicted by drought pray for rain?
If so, how would you pray? And what would you expect?
If not, why wouldn't you pray for rain?

Since September 11, 2001, many conversations have taken place among Muslims, Jews and Christians. There are official interfaith conversations occurring all over the globe, where participants dig into each other's texts. And numerous personal dialogues have been established over the last decade. Many of us have learned more about the three Abrahamic faiths since September 11, 2001 than perhaps we knew before that day.

But here's this week's question, which is simple in its wording but not necessarily simple to answer:

Do followers of the three Abrahamic faiths really understand each other better since 9/11?

Please explain the reasons for your answer.