For many observers, religion is an emblematic feature of American politics. It is seen as a unique and confounding manifestation of American exceptionalism, in which religious fervor co-exists with an industrialized, "modern" democracy and an explicitly secular state.
The course of the presidential race thus far might be viewed as yet another instance of America's particular obsession with religion. Yet this campaign, for all its familiar tropes, both departs from the historical American norm and remind us that the US is not so unusual in its mix of religion and politics, after all.
Even before Paul Ryan's selection for the Republican ticket, Rick Santorum's and Mitt Romney's primary campaigns for president meant that religion had already played a particularly vivid version of its familiar role in American electoral politics – one which went beyond the usual prayer breakfasts, pastoral exhortations, allegations of theological unsoundness, and public proclamations of the candidate's commitment to Jesus, Christianity, and America united under one God.
The ultra-Catholic Rick Santorum, with his critique of Obama's "false theology", his passionate pronouncements on the evils of birth control and abortion, and his statement that John F Kennedy's advocacy of the separation of church and state "made him want to throw up", was coupled with the ongoing saga of Mitt Romney – the candidate no one seemed to want but had to choose – and his Mormonism, which raised the question of whether the adherents of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints deserved to stand under broad and sheltering umbrella of American Christianity.
The nomination of Ryan, with his ostensibly seamless dual commitment to the teachings of both the Catholic Church and the church of Ayn Rand, means that religion in the 2012 election has taken an even more prominent role as the Republican party convention is held this week.
This might seem to be yet another round, albeit a particularly intense one, of the usual order at the bar.
Yet, only a few decades ago, both the Santorum candidacy and the Ryan nomination would have been unthinkable. In the 1960 election, Kennedy's Catholicism meant he had repeatedly to disavow loyalties to Rome, and argue that a Catholic president would not be beholden to a foreign power.
Evangelical leaders openly opposed the candidate on grounds of his "popishness", and fretted about its implications for America. Yet, Rick Santorum not only faced few questions regarding his Catholic views, but even became a darling of many evangelical leaders. The pattern appears to be repeating itself with evangelical responses to Ryan.
So what changed?
Evangelicals rose to national office in the United States with the election of Jimmy Carter in 1976, and during the next decades, came to even greater prominence in the civic sphere as figures such as the Reverend Jerry Falwell issued proclamations that "God is calling millions of Americans in the so-often silent majority to join in the moral majority crusade to turn America around."
The 1990s brought Ralph Reed's Christian Coalition and the evangelical mega-churches to the center of American politics as they became the foundation of a reliable constituency for the GOP.
At the same time, in a development that received far less attention than the evangelicals' entry into politics, they were forging a new coalition with Catholics – centered around a version of what then Pope John Paul II called the "culture of life".
While the original iteration espoused respect for life from conception to death, including opposition to the death penalty, the new, carefully edited consensus promoted by the coalition focused on anti-abortion and pro-life rhetoric, while remaining silent or supporting the death penalty; it espoused traditional gender roles, was suspicious of government in general and its regulation of schooling in particular, and vehemently opposed gay rights, much less marriage equality.
Conservative Catholics and evangelicals now spoke a common language, sidestepping the thorny issues of theology and doctrine that had divided them in the past (such as their differing views on divorce).
More importantly, the coalition put an end to the question of whether a conservative Catholic could be a real American, since this quality of authenticity was increasingly clustered around Christian religiosity writ large, and allegiance on a certain set of social issues, rather than requiring adherence to a particular denominational form.
It was this coalition that provided the backbone of Santorum's support.
Similarly, it will ensure that Ryan – with his staunch record of opposition to abortion and same-sex marriage – appeals to evangelical Protestant constituents. The new alliance made it easy for Santorum to speak to evangelicals, as well as Catholics, as if he were one of them, because, in many senses, he was.
Ironically, his political views are far to the right of those espoused by most Catholics, who still identify primarily as Democrats, but his admixture of religious fervor, "pro-family" stances, and conservative theological views appealed all the more to evangelical voters and their leaders.
All of this might seem to underscore the exceptional (and exceptionally peculiar) nature of US politics.
But a wider, international perspective only shows Americans to be far more ordinary in their blending of faith and politics. A brief look at Polish or Philippine politics reveals the Roman Catholic church constantly muscling in on the political arena, and politicians of all stripes who are only too happy to kowtow to the Church's assertion of moral authority.
Before he became a would-be authoritarian, Viktor Orban in Hungary, for example, became an advocate of religious interests in politics. Ireland, Israel, and Malta are all polities that have been long dominated by religious monopolies accustomed to obtaining enormous concessions in education, the welfare state, and reproductive technologies.
And these are just some of the world's democracies.
As the Islamic republics and religious monarchies of the Middle East and South Asia show, there's a still broader pantheon of polities where religion makes regular and institutionalized incursions into politics.
It's enough to make Americans feel positively normal, even relatively secular.