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 ... and where religious liberty is so indivisible that an act against one church is treated as an act against all.

— Senator John F. Kennedy to the Greater Houston Ministerial Association, September 12, 1960

MORE THAN 41 YEARS AGO, the Reverend Billy Graham gathered a group of Protestant leaders together in Montreux, Switzerland, to strategize how to stop Massachusetts senator John F. Kennedy from being elected the United States’ first Catholic president. A decade later, the same Billy Graham huddled with embattled president Richard Nixon, who had been Kennedy’s Protestant opponent in 1960, and railed against the power of American Jews: "A lot of the Jews are great friends of mine," said Graham. "They swarm around me ... because they know I’m friendly with Israel.... But they don’t know how I really feel about what they’re doing to this country, and I have no power and no way to handle them."

Graham subsequently apologized for his comments about Jews. It’s unclear whether he did the same regarding Kennedy, although he later befriended the Kennedy family and gave an interview to George magazine chief John F. Kennedy Jr. But both actions are worth recalling for what they say about our own time: a powerful religious leader organizing against a political candidate on religious grounds, or making overtly anti-Jewish statements, would certainly raise eyebrows today. Domestically, religious bias appears to be at a remarkably low ebb these days. After all, Connecticut senator Joseph Lieberman, an Orthodox Jew, was tapped by the Democrats to run for vice-president in 2000, and he’s testing the waters for a 2004 presidential run. But the real test of whether attitudes have changed since Graham voiced such prejudices may take place right here in Massachusetts, of all places — more specifically, in the Commonwealth’s race for governor.

Unsure whether religion might be the X-Factor in this election year? Consider these facts. The Massachusetts Republican gubernatorial nominee, Mitt Romney, is Mormon. At one time, Romney served as a "stake president," a Mormon lay rank that has been described as roughly equivalent to that of Catholic archbishop. He is also heavily identified with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints through his stewardship of the Salt Lake City Winter Olympics. Not just one, but two Democratic candidates for governor are Jewish — former secretary of labor Robert Reich and former Democratic National Committee chair Steve Grossman. That’s a milestone in a state that has never seen a Jew nominated for — never mind elected to — the office of chief executive (or any other constitutional office), with the exception of Attorney General George Fingold in 1958. Altogether, of the six major-party candidates running for governor, only half are Catholic. And if you include the Libertarian and Green Parties, you could add Jill Stein to the list of Jewish candidates.

Heavily Catholic Massachusetts could, in fact, be in for an unprecedented race: a Mormon versus a Jew in a year in which the overriding issue in the public consciousness (besides terrorism) is the unraveling of the Roman Catholic Church. While Reich is polling strongly in the Democratic primary — as high as 26 percent in a five-person race — the odds that he or Grossman will emerge as the nominee remains something of a stretch. Still, it’s worth raising the question: is Massachusetts ready for such a match-up?

Keep in mind that for all its nationally celebrated liberalism, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts is one of the most parochial and tribal states in America. It is a place where less than two years ago, residents of Charlestown complained about naming a nearby bridge for Leonard Zakim, the deceased Jewish head of the Anti-Defamation League, in what may or may not have been a case of veiled anti-Semitism. For their part, Jews live mostly within the carefully drawn quarters of Newton and Brookline. In addition, the Republican nominee, Mitt Romney, was subject to bitter religion-based attacks from the Kennedys only eight years ago. A Romney-Reich or Romney-Grossman race could help usher in a more open era.

"You could make the claim that it’s that kind of moment when people might look to a religious outsider," says Jonathan Sarna, a professor of American-Jewish history at Brandeis, attempting to factor the Church scandal into local politics. "For a Jew to run against a Mormon in Massachusetts is extraordinary," says Alan Wolfe, director of the Center for Religion and American Public Life at Boston College. "It would send a tremendous message to America about how the world is changing."

Still, in a state as overwhelmingly Catholic as the Commonwealth, running for governor and winning are two different things. And while religion usually goes unremarked in a gubernatorial campaign — excepting debates on abortion and the death penalty — it can color peoples’ perceptions of candidates. Whether debate involves the all-encompassing issue of the scandal in the Catholic Church, the fact that Romney was a bishop in the Mormon Church and is a one-million-dollar donor to Brigham Young University (with its conservative honor code), or the red-hot issue of the Middle East conflict, religion will likely have an impact on the Massachusetts governor’s race.

Is Seth Gitell accurate in his analysis? Will religion play a significant role in the governor's race? Voice your opinion here in the Phoenix Forum.