Governor Carcieri at Wednesday’s lighting of a menorah at the State House.

The Providence Journal / M. Charles Bakst

“We should acknowledge the Creator as did the Founders — in ceremony and word. He should remain on our currency, in our pledge, in the teaching of our history, and, during the holiday season, nativity scenes and menorahs should be welcome in our public places.”

Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney said that last Thursday. But he’s wrong — certainly the part about Christmas and Chanukah icons on public property.

I watched his televised speech with images fresh in my mind of an event the night before at the State House. There, in a building with at least 21 Christmas trees on display inside, Governor Carcieri, who is Romney’s top backer here, stood near a gorgeous silver menorah and participated in a ceremony lighting the Chanukah candles. On Friday night he was to participate in an outdoor tree-lighting ceremony.

The Chanukah event was organized by Rhode Island members of the international Chabad-Lubavitch Movement, which is aggressively religious. Rabbi Yehoshua Laufer, its leader here, calls it close to Orthodox but reaching out to all Jews.

Carcieri, who is Catholic, said he was happy to be part of the celebration.

He declared, “Long before I got into this role, I had enormous respect and admiration for the Jewish faith, the Jewish history, the Jewish people. You are a people that has known persecution, difficulties, sacrifice, lived in terrorism.”

And he said of the State House, “This is everyone’s home. This is the home for all of our citizens, and it’s the cradle of religious freedom for all of us.”

So why did I feel so not at home?

Don’t misunderstand me. I appreciate Carcieri’s interest in things Jewish and his identification with the themes and joy of Chanukah.

He not only lit a candle, he seemed genuinely moved by the occasion, at times closing his eyes and letting the moment wash over him, and afterward he was the picture of a friendly grandfather as he helped distribute to children the holiday’s traditional chocolate coins, and he was every bit the schmoozy politician — and gourmet — as he downed a potato pancake and insisted I have one too. (Okay, I let him twist my arm.)

But I have a fierce belief in the separation of church and state, and I don’t believe government buildings, parks, or lawns are appropriate settings for religious displays or observances. Those locations include the Town Hall in Barrington, my home town, where, thanks to Chabad, menorah lightings this year have become a part of the holiday scene. I did not welcome that either.

And, as I have said before, I don’t believe government officials should arrange or promote religious services in churches, as, for example, Attorney General Patrick Lynch did when he honored his predecessors in a 2004 program in the First Baptist Church in America.

Romney himself praised church-state separation. “No religion should dictate to the state nor should the state interfere with the free practice of religion,” he said in his speech. But he criticized those who would have religion be “merely a private affair with no place in public life.” He said it is as if they want to establish a new religion, “the religion of secularism.”

I can assure you the State House was not looking at all secular on Wednesday night. There was a sea of Christmas trees, many of them sponsored by ethnic heritage groups.

A large tree stood in the middle of the rotunda. There were 18 smaller ones right near it and in front of the House and Senate. Another large tree and small tree adorned the governor’s reception room.

I acknowledge the beauty and meaning many people find in such tableaus.

But what I saw Wednesday summoned for me some of the most uncomfortable moments of my 1950s childhood, being in public grade school and, along with other Jewish students, having to join in the singing of Christmas carols.

One of the first people I saw in the State House was GOP Rep. Bruce Long, who belongs to Temple Shalom, a Conservative congregation in his home town of Middletown. Long, 56, who was to join in the menorah lighting, told me, “As I get older, I find myself growing closer to my religion. My mom, who’s still alive — it makes her feel better, and it makes me feel better too.”

I asked what he thought of the forest of Christmas trees. “We live in a Christian state,” he said matter of factly. He noted that Chabad was putting up a tall menorah, to remain on display for the rest of the holiday.

As Rabbi Laufer prepared to preside over the lighting of the smaller menorah set up on an aluminum-foil-covered table near Rhode Island’s 1663 Royal Charter, he told me Chabad does these things to spread light and the message of religious freedom.

But, I said, you don’t see mainstream temples going to the State House or city halls to celebrate Chanukah. He said many temples have begun placing menorahs outside their buildings, where everyone can see them. “That’s a good step,” he said.

“But they don’t do this,” I said.

“Not yet,” he said cheerfully.

Chanukah — this was the second of eight nights — is a special time for children, a happy family time and, of course, there are gifts. (When my grandfather gave me $10, I considered it a fortune.)

At the State House, youngsters, including many boys in yarmulkes, gathered close to the table. There were remarks, the lighting itself, and traditional Chanukah songs.

Who can retell the things that befell us,

Who can count them? In every age a hero or sage came to our aid.

Hark! In days of yore, in Israel’s ancient land,

Brave Maccabeus led his faithful band…

It was nice, and yet I felt apart.

These Jews are much more observant — indeed, messianic. The black hats and the beards I saw reminded me, superficially, of the old men in my grandfather’s traditional Orthodox synagogue, men whose piety I admired but could never hope to emulate. But in the case of the Lubavitchers, as with so many Christian groups, especially in the South, it’s hard for me to identify with people who, with religion in their heart, go into the public square and wear it on their sleeve.

Rabbi Laufer exulted in Rhode Island’s heritage of religious freedom. He alluded to Roger Williams, someone Romney also mentioned in his speech. The rabbi said he hoped and prayed that the light from the candles lit this night would brighten the world outside.

The blessings over the candles, and certainly the old songs I remember from Sunday School, tugged at me, but I did not emotionally plunge into the ceremony, and not just because of a journalist’s professional distance. I thought it would be odd to celebrate Judaism in these halls of government or, looked at another way, surrounded by Christmas trees. What would I be trying to prove? I was very disappointed when last year First Lady Sue Carcieri immersed herself in an anti-abortion Rosary for Life prayer service in this building. I don’t think the antidote to misuse of the building is more misuse.

The governor told me, “This is a place for freedom of expression of all faiths.”

But I don’t want religious groups to vie to make the State House their own, or to carve out turf within it.

As for Chanukah, the place to celebrate it — and I do — is at home, or temple, or other private locale.

I spoke with Carcieri about his friend, former Massachusetts Governor Romney, feeling the need to give a speech on religion. Carcieri said, “It’s sad, at one level, that you’ve got to talk about faith and Mormonism today. In the 21st century we shouldn’t have to be doing that.”

Carcieri added, “He’s obviously somebody who has great values and his value system of the Mormon faith has driven his life.”

I applaud much of Romney’s address. In an echo of a 1960 speech by John F. Kennedy, Romney was right to say no one should be elected or rejected because of his faith. And it was good to hear him say he would not take orders from church authorities.

I admire the fact that, even in the face of strong competition from former Arkansas Gov. Mike Huckabee, a Southern Baptist minister with strong appeal for evangelical Christians, Romney said he would not distance himself from his religion or disavow one or another of its precepts.

Still, in a move designed to reassure the evangelicals, he made a point of saying, “I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and the Savior of mankind.” This is a fine sentiment, but it seems sad to me that a presidential candidate would feel this is necessary to say in a political speech. It’s an example of what I fear mixing church and state, even in what most people might consider harmless holiday settings, can lead to.

There also were ironies in Romney’s comments on religion. He said, “Americans do not respect believers of convenience. Americans tire of those who would jettison their beliefs, even to gain the world.”

This from a man who has changed his views on several key political topics as he moved toward a presidential run.

I welcome Romney’s statement that every human being is a child of God and that he is moved by the Lord’s words: “I was ahungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in…”

In reality, like many politicians who express such ideals, Romney’s actual policies, especially the views he voices about immigrants, do not always reflect such lofty sentiments.

He needs to work on that.

M. Charles Bakst is The Journal’s political columnist.

mbakst@projo.com