Last week in this space columnist Paul Choiniere, retired editorial page editor of The Day, contrasted the 1960 presidential debate between John F. Kennedy, who would go on to win election, and Richard M. Nixon, who had to wait eight years for his own victory; and the June 2024 debate between President Joe Biden and ex-president Donald Trump.

Yet another comparison between the two presidential races is about to seize voters’ attention. It will put a candidate’s religious affiliation on the table to a degree not seen in the intervening 64 years.

JFK was the first winner, second candidate in U.S. history to be a Catholic. Nixon was raised as a Quaker, which at the time simply qualified him as part of the Protestant majority. A Catholic candidate, however, had to break new ground. Kennedy spoke before the Greater Houston Ministerial Association, telling the Protestant ministers present:

I believe in an America that is officially neither Catholic, Protestant nor Jewish; where no public official either requests or accepts instructions on public policy from the Pope, the National Council of Churches or any other ecclesiastical source; where no religious body seeks to impose its will directly or indirectly upon the general populace or the public acts of its officials; and where religious liberty is so indivisible that an act against one church is treated as an act against all.

Kennedy did indeed put to rest most such fears or prejudices of non-Catholics. By the time he began campaigning for a second term – as he was doing on the day of his assassination in 1963 – people were largely back to discussing policy distinctions between the two major political parties and Kennedy’s own record as commander-in chief.

Still, the question was out there. During the 1960 campaign it prompted theoretical conversations among patriotic Americans with deeply held religious beliefs. Hypothetically – and no one seriously expected to face this choice – if you had to put one allegiance before the other, would you be American first or Christian first?

The beauty of the rhetorical question was that it served to remind people the Constitution guaranteed no American would ever have to make such a choice, a point Kennedy also made in his speech.

In most of the presidential races since, the subject of a candidate’s religious affiliation or lack of one was just another clue about his or her persona. Presidents, once elected, have deemed it wise to attend at least an occasional church service because the majority of Americans said they belonged to a faith community.

The 2024 campaign and election are taking place in a far different climate. Prejudice against people because of their religion runs rampant, often fanned by followers of the Republicans’ choice of candidate, Donald Trump. Over decades the sway of mainstream Christian churches has lessened as other denominations grow and more Americans profess themselves “spiritual,” but not necessarily religious.

Both factors figure into the campaign notion of making America great again. “Great” means whatever a person takes it to mean. That’s fair. What is unfair and even dangerous is the idea that what Person A finds to be “great” could be forced upon Person B.

In the aftermath of Donald Trump’s choice of J.D. Vance as his running mate, Religion News Service, a respected source of comprehensive reporting on all faith traditions, last week published “Five Facts about J.D. Vance.”

Fact No. 1 is that, like Kennedy and President Joe Biden, Vance is Catholic. He converted as an adult. Fact No. 2, according to RNS, is that Vance has ties to a movement known as “Catholic integralism,” which is described as “an intellectual movement that, experts say, prefers a ‘soft power’ approach to exerting Christian influence over society. Thinkers in the movement herald the importance of a Christian ‘strategic adviser’ to people in power.”

The movement seems to hold similar values to those of the evangelical Christian leaders who clearly see their own strong influence on leaders as a way of making America greater than they believe it currently is.

Left unbalanced by a respect for the constitutional separation of church and state, these values could rapidly deteriorate from principles into bullying and worse. And who gets left out if unelected religious leaders hold such secular power is part of the point.

By the time of Donald Trump’s 2016 election, 56 years encompassing 14 Republican and Democrat incumbencies had brought America to a moment when religious diversity was the norm. Indeed, mainstream Christianity, once the de facto American religion, was already making room for other traditions when the Houston ministers agreed to hear John Kennedy out. We should thank those men — and they would have been men — for seeking enlightenment.

Sometimes a single picture really is worth 1,000 words. At the Republican nominating convention in Milwaukee, the organizers were careful to include faith leaders of various traditions to begin sessions with prayer. Yet even as a Jew — Leora Levy, former Connecticut U.S. Senate candidate — and a woman representing the Sikh faith intoned their benedictions, the jumbo pictures behind them featured a cross, the essential symbol of the Christian faith.

The role of religion in the United States has never been to participate in governing but to help individual citizens form their consciences about liberty and justice for all. That is an enormous task that needs all the energy and good will faith traditions can give it.

Religion in government is not how the Constitution works. It is not how conscience works. Voters need to beware of candidates who want to tell them what to believe.

Lisa McGinley is a member of The Day Editorial Board.