Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, raised in a devout Roman Catholic family that gathered each night to recite the rosary, credits her faith with teaching her the importance of social justice and public service.

As part of his upbringing in Protestant churches, Robert L. Ehrlich Jr., who was required to memorize Bible verses each day at his Lutheran school, says religion taught him basic values like honesty, respect for others and an ethic of hard work.

Maryland's gubernatorial candidates may not agree on political ideology, but both say that religious faith has molded their character and values, and continues to influence their vocation as public servants.

Townsend's commitment to values education in public schools and mandatory service requirements, for example, are initiatives that she believes are rooted in the Catholic tradition of striving for social justice. Ehrlich's support of federal funding for faith-based institutions to provide social services is based on his belief in the power of religion to transform shattered lives.

But neither Ehrlich nor Townsend is completely in step with their churches. Ehrlich, a United Methodist, disagrees with his church's support for gun control and opposition to capital punishment and legalized gambling. Townsend favors the death penalty and supports abortion rights, both contrary to Catholic teaching.

More than guiding their public lives, both candidates say their religious beliefs shape their private lives.

Ehrlich says he begins each day in silent prayer as he readies himself for work. He prays "after my shower, driving to Washington, or these days driving around the state. I'm not ready for the day until that gets done," the congressman said. "It's very personal, and it's just me."

Townsend says she regularly attends Mass with her family at a city parish and tries to follow the example of her favorite saint, St. Therese, the little flower. "I love that notion of how one is supposed to act in the world," said the lieutenant governor. "You think about each day, what you can do."

Prayer in daily routine

Townsend, 51, said prayer was part of her daily routine as a child. "Every summer my mother went to daily Mass, and we went to daily Mass with her," she said. "And every night, not only did we say prayers with dinner, which is tradition, but around 8 we would say the rosary as a family and read the Bible." Part of what she learned from these lessons was an obligation to help others, she said.

She attended Catholic schools for a decade, first at Our Lady of Victory parish school in Washington and then at Stone Ridge, a girls high school in Bethesda. Townsend said she saw her teachers as role models and mentors: strong, intelligent, principled women who taught her she could make a difference in the world.

She recalled a comment from the Stone Ridge headmistress, Mother Marie Odeide Mouton.

"She said, 'Silence is golden, but sometimes it's just plain yellow,'" Townsend said. "And the idea was in a school in which we always had to be silent, we'd walk in two straight lines, you curtseyed every time you saw a nun, we wore white gloves every Monday, even in that highly disciplined situation, she knew that you had to speak out when things were wrong. And I thought that was a kind of subversive view."

Townsend so admired the nuns that that there was a brief time when she considered becoming one. "I think every Catholic girl wants to be a nun at one point in her life," she said. "I think it was as serious as that."

Religion also became a source for solace during times of tragedy, particularly the assassinations of her uncle, President John F. Kennedy, and her father, Sen. Robert F. Kennedy. "When pain and tragedy affects your life, which it has, you tend to pray a lot more and try to make sense of why did that happen and ask for God's grace to try and deal with it," she said.

"I do think all the tough times that each of us face, and there are many, are an opportunity for God to give us wisdom about how we should act, what we should do," she said.

Although she lives in Ruxton, Townsend and her family worship at SS. Philip and James Catholic Church in Charles Village, near the Johns Hopkins University. The pastor, the Rev. William Au, is a well-known activist and the parish is heavily involved in Baltimoreans United In Leadership Development, a grass-roots, church-based community organization. "The fact that she comes here reflects her commitment to the city, that this is what she would like her church to be doing," Au said.

Protestant upbringing

Ehrlich, 44, has drawn his religious inspiration from several Protestant denominations. When he was born, his parents attended a United Church of Christ congregation near their home in Arbutus, where his mother taught Sunday school.

"He was taken to church when he was 6 weeks old," said his mother, Nancy Ehrlich. "And to Sunday school as soon as he could walk."

After that congregation closed because of a dwindling membership, the Ehrlichs became members of Arbutus United Methodist Church, where their son was confirmed.

Like Townsend, Ehrlich went to a religious elementary school. He credits Emmanuel Lutheran School in Catonsville, run by the theologically conservative Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, with providing a firm spiritual grounding. "It was strict with a pretty rigorous religious training," he said. "I have very fond memories of the school. In fact, it made such a positive impression on me that we most likely would take the same course with Drew," his 3-year-old son.

Nancy Ehrlich remembers her son having to memorize a Bible passage each night for homework. "He would learn it and then he would say it to make sure he knew it," she said. "And he knew what he was memorizing, that was the best part."

Later, when Ehrlich went to Princeton and played football, he joined the Fellowship of Christian Athletes.

"It was very low key," he said. "We would meet before games and in the off season as well. I liked the atmosphere. It was my kind of style of religion. It was not in-your-face. It was, 'If you want to come to this group, come, talk about things young men and athletes talk about.'"

Ehrlich doesn't espouse an overt, demonstrative spirituality. When he speaks of his religious influences, he talks of "principles you learn along the way, respect for others, trying to do the right thing, work habits."

"Your religion is your own private business," his mother said. "We didn't preach it, so to speak. We tried to live it. And there's a big difference there. And Bobby's a good example of it."

Ehrlich's wife, Kendel, also describes her husband's faith as "strong," but "private." She said she is occasionally surprised by his knowledge of religious subjects, such as the time they were traveling in Jerusalem and he began holding forth as they toured the Via Dolorosa, the path tradition holds Jesus walked on the way to his crucifixion.

Ehrlich remains a member of Arbutus United Methodist Church, and his son was baptized there. But the Timonium resident, who often finds himself visiting other religious institutions on Sundays in connection with his congressional work, said he gets there for services about four or five times a year.

Ehrlich's low-key approach to religion is reflected in his political alignment within the Republican Party. He does not count himself as a member of the religious right but identifies with its libertarian wing.

It is within that context that Ehrlich says he was wary at first of President Bush's proposal to offer federal funding to faith-based groups to provide social services. But the pragmatist in him sees that such groups are doing good work in the community, and he wants to provide them with government help.

"I've just seen what changing hearts can do," he said. "So often social services tries and gets to the surface and maybe achieves behavior modification in the short term. But if you really change someone in a fundamental way, you might really save them."

Ehrlich has been supportive of Baltimore's Helping Up Mission, a Christian-based outreach to homeless and addicted men. He's visited occasionally over the past four years with his wife and made donations of clothes and money. He has helped the charity in applying for grants from the Department of Housing and Urban Development.

"He's brought groups down here, showing them what he believed to be an effective means of social action in our world," said Robert K. Gehman, the mission's executive director. "I have never really questioned him on his faith ... other than talking about the gospel of Christ and the presence of Christ in the lives of the men. He has always been very affirming of that and very interested."

Ehrlich sees his support for faith-based initiatives as an important part of his outreach to the African-American community. "I believe it's one of the reasons why our ticket, a Republican ticket, has had maybe a little more acceptance in certain communities than Republicans have had in the past," he said.

While many in Ehrlich's party share his enthusiasm for the partnership between religion and government, Democrats have been more reluctant to turn to the faith community for solutions to social problems. But Townsend has been encouraging liberals not to shun religion for the past two decades.

In a 1981 opinion piece published in The New York Times, Townsend lamented the fact that the Moral Majority laid claim to the Bible to justify its politics, while the left abandoned religious language.

"The left should assert its religious traditions to wrest away the right's claim to sole moral authority," she wrote. "Can the power of biblical images be denied in the struggles of those who fought for religious freedom, racial equality and social justice - the very battles the left claims as its own?"

Abandoning religion, or even ridiculing it, was a mistake for the left, she said. "I thought that was a part of our tradition too," she says now. "Religion gives you a sense that you've got to do justice in the world. It gives you the strength to do that, even when life is tough and you have to take on the battles as they come."

Religious values play a role in Townsend's best-known policy initiatives, motivating her push for character education in public schools and service requirements.

And in her speeches, she easily slips into a riff more common on a church pulpit than a political campaign. "I believe that God put us on Earth for a special reason," she said in a speech the day after announcing her candidacy. "That is best realized by what we do for others. God has given us gifts, but on Earth, we have to make God's work."

Positions in conflict

Both politicians at times, though, take positions that are at odds with their respective denominations.

Ehrlich does not hide his disdain for the social policies advocated by many mainline Protestant denominations, including his own United Methodist Church. A church official recently denounced unilateral U.S. action against Iraq.

He said he particularly opposes the church's "anti-military mentality with regard to the United States and our role in the world."

"And that has certainly turned me off and many others as well," he said. "Quite frankly, they have no credibility with me at all."

Ehrlich differs with Methodist positions on the death penalty and slot machines, which he favors, and on more restrictive gun controls, which he opposes.

Townsend also favors the death penalty, and she supports abortion rights. Although the church is opposed to the death penalty, with both the pope and the U.S. bishops speaking out against it, church leaders tolerate dissent on the issue. But Catholic opposition to abortion is ironclad and has led some bishops to clash with politicians who support abortion rights.

Townsend bristles at the notion, sometimes expressed by conservative Catholics, that differing with the church on some issues would call into question one's commitment to Catholicism. "I think the term Catholic means universal and it means inclusive," she said. "And that's what I think our church is."