I keep in my night stand an old, battered Bible. Given to me in 1979, its gold lettering has long since worn off, and the handsome burgundy lea-ther has flaked away. And the binding? Suffice to say, it no longer exists. The table of contents has vanished, and recently, I found two-thirds of the book of Genesis stuck in between the pages of Ezra. I am proud to say, however, that I have retained half of my dictionary and concordance.

Some have laughed to know that I, a modern, educated woman, actually keep what they feel is a meaningless relic. On the other hand, my church thoughtfully gave me a Bible as a graduation gift. While I appreciate it, I find the Revised Standard and Student versions hopelessly dumbed down. So, I keep my tattered treasure, steadfastly reading the archaic English of King James, politely ignoring both those who would mock me and those who would hand me a shiny, new copy of the Good Book.

I also prefer to ignore what my government has to say about the place of religion in our society — for good or ill. Religion is personal. The government has absolutely no right to limit it, as it is not the government’s concern. For the same reason, however, the government should not advance religion. The safest role for the state to take in things religious is no stance at all, for just as we do not want our choices limited by the government, neither should we want them dictated to us.

This is the very risk we run when we support such feel-good legislation as posting the Ten Commandments in schools. Do I not see that our schools and society could do with a healthy dose of ethics? Of course I do. Do I object to the Ten? Of course not. I try — dare I say "religiously"? — to follow them every day, and even my atheist friends have no objection to the philosophy contained in them per se.

But they are uncomfortable with the government sponsoring and advancing one credo, and so am I. Morality is desperately needed, but it must be taught in the home, rather than by Uncle Sam. The Ten Commandments are well and good for me, since I am a member of a Judeo-Christian belief system, but what if I wasn’t?

Further, if one set of basic beliefs is to be posted, in fairness, shouldn’t all theories be included? The simple logistics of this are mind-boggling. Too, while there are many non-Christian beliefs I might be able to grit my teeth and "live with" seeing, and some — like the Pillars of Islam — that I even respect, there are those that would be highly objectionable.

Aleister Crowley, a practicing black magician of yore, had his own ideas about conduct. "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law," he said to his followers. Do Christians really want to see the advocating of hedonistic disregard for others posted right alongside the word of God?

How about certain antitheses of Christianity? The Church of Satan and the Temple of Set are abhorrent to me, but they are religions to others. How about a summary of those beliefs posted next to the holy text that I believe in? What about the tenets of goddess cults, vampirology, or Wicca?

If one can step back and consider this for a moment, he or she might come to realize how the practitioners of non-Judeo-Christian religions feel when they see their elected officials rallying to place the Ten Commandments in the schools their children attend.

Christians who are opposed to the separation of church and state should all go one step further and imagine how life would be if our beliefs did not hold predominance in this country. Would they really want school-led prayer if it meant their Presbyterian children would be facing Mecca? A little transcendental meditation for their Catholic child, perhaps? How about Astral Projection 101 for all the Baptist or Adventist kids? Fortunately, our government in the past had the wisdom to see that a school room is no place for a pulpit of any kind.

The government of today has twisted that wisdom, at times in a contradictory manner. We cannot have classroom-led prayer or Christmas songs mentioning Jesus at school pageants, but we can have Halloween and Valentine’s Day parties. (Both of these holidays are religious, after all). People can throw royal fits over (gasp!) the presence of an innocent reference Bible on a library shelf, but third-grade instructors go on teaching Graeco-Roman mythology without anyone batting an eye. A student can read a story about a wizard to his or her class, but the little boy who wanted to read a non-proselytizing story about Jonah and the Whale was told no, first by his teacher, then by the supreme court of his state.

I do not advocate banning mythology, holiday parties, or the benign and delightful Harry Potter from state-run institutions, but I do ask that Christianity stop bearing the brunt of state-run aggression. If it is only fair that Christians either welcome all beliefs in tandem with the Ten Commandments, or accept that no religious text will be posted in schools, it is also fair to expect that the state will similarly ignore the demands and wishes of other religions.