Forgive me for repeating a story I’ve told before but, considering the latest blatant example of religious bigotry in the country, it is worth retelling.

Outside a Baptist church in the South several years ago, a black man was crying his eyes out.

God came along and asked, “My son, why are you weeping?”

The man, replied, “Because I’ve been coming to this church for the last three weeks and they won’t let me in because I’m black.”

“Don’t worry about it,” God said. “I’ve been coming for years, and they won’t let me in, either.”

That yarn could have applied to many churches of various denominations in the days of the segregated South, but for the moment let me stick with Baptists. I know them well because I am one.

Keep in mind that although I grew up in the South (Texas), I was never a “Southern Baptist.” In those days, like the man crying outside the church, I wasn’t allowed to become a member of the “white” church. In fact, we used to joke about whether heaven would have “Colored” sections in it.

Those segregationist preachers used the Scriptures to justify their bigotry and discriminatory practices in the Jim Crow era just as their ancestors used the Bible to rationalize slavery.

Religious bigotry doesn’t come in one color.

Many black Baptists were taught that Catholics weren’t true Christians and, to this day, believe that women have a special place in the church that is not in the pulpit.

Various wings of the denomination have had their inner battles, often fighting for control of institutions like the Southern Baptist Convention, the radio and television commission, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and, of course, Baylor University.

Many of the leaders spend a lot of time carving out turf, trying to define themselves as the most conservative or the truest in the literal interpretation of the Bible. This often leads to damning pronouncements about other faiths and cultures such as those we are witnessing today with attacks on Mormonism.

You knew it was coming, right, with two Mormons running for president and one being the front-runner for the Republican nomination.

While they often teach staying out of politics (and “social issues”), they have a tendency to dive in head-first.

I recall the late W.A. Criswell, longtime pastor of Dallas’ First Baptist Church when it was the largest congregation in the country, condoned the segregation of congregations by simply saying, “Birds of a feather flock together.”

Criswell, however, in 1976 turned against fellow Southern Baptist Jimmy Carter after he gave an interview to Playboy magazine. After inviting President Gerald Ford, an Episcopalian (Lord, have mercy!) to church, the pastor endorsed the Republican from the pulpit.

The current pastor of First Baptist, Robert Jeffress, is making headlines for saying Republican candidate Mitt Romney is not a Christian and that his faith, Mormonism, is “a cult.” Jeffress made the remarks after introducing Gov. Rick Perry at the recent Values Voter Summit.

Although Jeffress claims not to be speaking for the church, he reinforced his comments from the pulpit, and the church’s website prominently heralds the new-found national attention the pastor has garnered with his insensitive, divisive remarks.

That’s nothing new, nor should it be surprising. Jeffress has labeled several faiths as “false religions,” including Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism. He’s called the prophet Muhammad a child rapist.

There’s no doubt he and other evangelicals believe this, and feel obligated to speak it as divine truth.

But this kind of language has no place in our political discourse, and it’s time for Perry and his fellow Republican candidates to say so.

I warned the governor before his August prayer meeting in Houston that he would likely be defined, in part, by the words that come out of the mouths of some of his conservative preacher supporters.

Unfortunately, the language of condemnation for those who are different plays well with the voter base Perry needs to win the Republican nomination, and especially to win some of the southern primaries.

Perry, a born-again Christian who once sold Bible reference books door to door, may find it cumbersome trying to distance himself from the likes of Jeffress, and difficult selling his faith as tolerant enough for one who wants to be leader of the free world.

By Bob Ray Sanders

Bob Ray Sanders is a columnist for the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. ― Ed.

(Fort Worth Star-Telegram)

(MCT Information Services)