Academia

, , , , , ,

Attention all 'Rational Sheep' -- Hollywood is no longer the true church of the masses

, , , , , ,
Attention all 'Rational Sheep' -- Hollywood is no longer the true church of the masses

As the creator of classics such as "It's a Wonderful Life" and "You Can't Take It with You," director Frank Capra knew how to touch the hearts and souls of moviegoers.

The self-described "Christmas Catholic" took that power seriously. "No saint, no pope, no general, no sultan, has ever had the power that a filmmaker has," he once said. This was the "power to talk to hundreds of millions of people for two hours in the dark."

The power of today's digital media is much more complex than that, said Barbara Nicolosi Harrington, a former Catholic nun turned screenwriter and Hollywood script doctor.

"Hollywood has been the church of the masses, but I don't think that's still true. At least, we cannot say that movie theaters are the sanctuaries they once were for most people, especially for the young," said Harrington, author of "Behind the Screen: Hollywood Insiders on Faith, Film, and Culture."

When she was young, she explained, mainstream entertainment "was everything. Hollywood created the images that told us what was cool and what it meant to be a success and to be loved."

Now, when she talks to young people, they have a completely different relationship with mass media. The voices and images of Hollywood are competing with legions of "influencers" who reach the masses through omnipresent smartphones.

"There are so many competing screens and so much of the content is truly asinine," she said. Young people accept that, but believe that, with their peers, they can decide what is true and what is false in that digital universe. When messages hit home, social-media mavens then connect users with creators, activists or networks linked to the content.

"Kids think they're in control," said Harrington, reached by telephone. "But how can you tell what is right and wrong if it's TikTok and its algorithms that decide what you see? ... You think that you get to decide what is right for you and what voices will guide you. But is that true these days?"

The big question is whether millions of parents, pastors, teachers and counselors realize how much the balance of power has shifted in mass-media and entertainment.

, , , , , , ,

Into year 36: When it comes to religion news, many journalists are in a class of their own

, , , , , , ,
Into year 36: When it comes to religion news, many journalists are in a class of their own

After studying relevant police reports, Americans Against Antisemitism issued a 2023 document noting the obvious -- that rising numbers of Orthodox Jews were being assaulted in New York City.

The Orthodox, especially Hasidic Jews, were victims in 94% of the 194 antisemitic assaults between 2018-2022 reported to the city's Hate Crimes Task Force. Most of these crimes occurred in Jewish neighborhoods and some were captured on video. Only two of the criminal cases led to convictions.

Assaults on Orthodox men and women "ranged from spitting, to punching, to someone being hit in the face with a brick," noted Batya Ungar-Sargon of Newsweek, in her book "Bad News." The crime wave produced few news reports until a 2019 mass shooting at a Kosher supermarket in Jersey City and a machete attack on a Hannukah party in Monsey, north of New York City.

Then came COVID-19 and Orthodox Jews, along with others in close-knit ethnic and immigrant communities, were hit hard.

"Because the national news media saw that they could cast the Jews as the villains of the virus instead of its victims, they suddenly couldn't get enough of them," wrote Ungar-Sargon, an Orthodox Jew. "Every outlet began running pieces … blaming Orthodox recalcitrance to social distancing or mask wearing for spreading the virus, not just among their own communities but to their neighbors, too."

Many of these pandemic-driven stories were valid -- but packed with errors about Orthodox beliefs and traditions. Ungar-Sargon asked: Why did journalists jump into "hyperdrive" in this case, after downplaying all those antisemitic attacks? Why do many journalists see Americans they consider "less intelligent and uneducated" as "beyond salvation, irredeemable and filled with hate"? She has continued her work in a new book, "Second Class."

In the late 1970s, researchers began asking why journalists often struggle when covering religion stories or avoid religious news altogether. I wrote my 1982 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign graduate project on this topic and some of that work was published by Quill, the magazine of the Society of Professional Journalists.

This week marks the start of my 36th year writing this "On Religion" column. I also spent 20 years leading the GetReligion.org project, which closed in February, but its archive remains online for those studying religion and the press.

, , , , ,

Joe Lieberman at BYU: America needs more believers in Washington, D.C.

, , , , ,
Joe Lieberman at BYU: America needs more believers in Washington, D.C.

The fall of 2011 was a symbolic time for Sen. Joseph Lieberman to deliver an address at Brigham Young University on faith and public service.

The White House race was heating up, and Mitt Romney was on his way to winning the Republican nomination. Some politicos were worried that Romney could become the first member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to fill that role.

"I don't share that anxiety," he said, drawing on his experiences in 2000 as Vice President Al Gore's running mate -- the first Jew on a major party's presidential ticket. "A candidate does not give up their freedom of religion or freedom of expression when they decide to run for office. They have the right, if they choose, to talk about the role that faith plays in their life, understanding that others have the right to decide, based on those expressions, whether that affects their view of those candidates."

For example, Lieberman explained that, as a college freshman, he was inspired when John F. Kennedy was the first Catholic elected as president.

"I will tell you that as a young Jewish American -- though I was not thinking of a political career, believe me, at age 18 -- when he won, I had some sense that doors had opened for me, that somehow a horizon had expanded for me and for others who were from faiths that were not the majority, for different races, or for other nationalities."

Lieberman died on March 27 at age 82, ending a career defined as much by his life as an Orthodox Jewish as by his attempts to remain a centrist as Democrats kept moving to the cultural left. While voting with his party on issues such as abortion, gun control and gay rights, he was a strong supporter of religious liberty – including for conservatives who frequently clashed with his party.

During his years in the U.S. Senate, Lieberman had many friends on the Republican side of the aisle, often cooperating with conservatives on bipartisan projects addressing hunger, low-income housing, relief programs in Africa and government support for faith-based charities.

, , , , , ,

'Good men' vs. 'Real men' -- Do religious leaders understand the difference?

, , , , , ,
'Good men' vs. 'Real men' -- Do religious leaders understand the difference?

The 18-foot granite Titanic Memorial in Washington, D.C., shows a robed man rising from the waves, his arms extended like a cross.

Once a year, at the precise time on April 15, 1912, when the liner was declared doomed, the Men's Titanic Society gathers at this statue, which is hidden behind Fort McNair after being moved to make way for the Kennedy Center. Members wear tuxedos, to honor the passenger who donned evening clothes in order to "die like a gentleman."

A toast in the rite includes: "Chivalry, gallantry, bravery and grace. … To the young and old, the rich and the poor, the ignorant and the learned, all who gave their lives nobly to save women and children. To those brave men."

No one debates the values that inspired that sacrifice.

"Men seem to instinctively treat masculinity as the call to die so that others may live -- the highest form of sacrifice," noted Nancy Pearcey, in "The Toxic War on Masculinity," her latest work of Christian apologetics. "That principle seems to be built into men's created nature."

However, Pearcey noted that sociologist Michael Kimmel has offered clues as to why many activists now condemn "traditional masculinity."

Kimmel asked West Point cadets to describe a "good man," and heard "honor," "duty," "integrity," "sacrifice," "do the right thing," "be a protector" and similar responses. When he asked what it means to "man up" as "a real man," cadets said, "tough," "never show weakness," "win at all costs," "suck it up," "get rich" and "get laid."

Pearcey calls the "good man" credo the "software of God's creation," while the "real man" stereotype reveals the "virus of sin."

, , , , , ,

Can Christian colleges 'keep the faith' or is avoiding compromise impossible?

, , , , , ,
Can Christian colleges 'keep the faith' or is avoiding compromise impossible?

As America's second-oldest Lutheran college, Roanoke College in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley proclaims that it is "never sectarian" in outlook, while maintaining that "critical thinking and spiritual growth" are essential.

The online spiritual-life page also offers this advice: "We encourage you to follow your own personal spiritual path while here at Roanoke." The collage "honors its Christian heritage" and its affiliation with the progressive Evangelical Lutheran Church in America by stressing "dialogue between faith and reason," according to its "Mission & Vision" statement. "Diversity, inclusion and belonging" are strategic goals.

These commitments are "so informal that it's hard to call them doctrinal commitments at all," said Robert Benne, a retired Roanoke College professor who founded its Benne Center for Church and Society. "This is what you see in many Christian colleges. … These vague commitments go along with efforts to embrace whatever is happening in modern culture."

This isn't unusual, he stressed, after studying trends in Christian higher education for decades. In the post-pandemic marketplace, an increasing number of small private schools -- religious and secular -- face economic and enrollment challenges that threaten their futures.

Leaders of many Christian colleges and universities face a painful question as they try to stay alive: When seeking students and donors, should administrators strengthen ties to denominations or movements that built their schools or weaken the ties that bind in order to reach outsiders and even secular students?

, , ,

Retired United Methodist bishop offers an in-depth meditation on death -- his own

, , ,
Retired United Methodist bishop offers an in-depth meditation on death -- his own

There was nothing unusual, in the early 1970s, about a student hearing one of his professors preach during chapel.

But one sermon — "How Would You Like to Die?" — impressed the seminarian who would later become United Methodist Bishop Timothy Whitaker of Florida. Theologian Claude H. Thompson had terminal cancer and, a few months later, his funeral was held in the same chapel at the Candler School of Theology in Atlanta.

"What hit me was that he calmly preached on that subject -- even while facing his own death," said Whitaker, reached by telephone. "It hit me that that, if death is one of the great mysteries of life, then that needs to be something that the church openly discusses. …

"Yes, we live in a culture that is reluctant to talk about death. But I decided that it's important for us to hear from our elders who are facing this issue, head on."

Thus, soon after doctors informed him that his own cancer is terminal, Whitaker wrote a lengthy online meditation, "Learning to Die." The 74-year-old bishop is retired and receiving hospice care, while living in Keller, a small town near the Virginia coast.

"Being a pastor, I considered it a privilege and also an education to linger beside many deathbeds. I have tried to never forget that, unless I die abruptly in an accident or with a heart attack or stroke, sooner or later the subject of death will feel very personal to me," he wrote. Now, "in the time that remains for me I have one more thing to learn in life, which is to die. … I had always hoped that I would be aware of the imminence of my death so that I could face it consciously, and I am grateful that I have the knowledge that I am going to die soon."

Certainly, Whitaker noted, the Orthodox theologian Father Thomas Hopko was correct when he quipped, while facing a terminal disease: "This dying is very interesting."

Dying is also complicated -- raising myriad theological questions about eternity, salvation and the mysteries of the life to come, he noted. The Bible, from cover to cover, is packed with relevant stories, passages and images. The same is true of the writings of early church leaders who preached eternal hope, even when suffering persecution and martyrdom. Over and over, the saints proclaimed their belief in the resurrection of Jesus.

, , , , ,

Do many believers fear 'theology'? This affects the work done at seminaries today

, , , , ,
Do many believers fear 'theology'? This affects the work done at seminaries today

During the 1970s and '80s, the flocks gathered in conservative Protestant pews kept growing and growing — until a third of the U.S. population could be defined as "evangelical."

Times were already getting tough for leaders of progressive Mainline churches, with sharp declines in budgets and worship attendance. But the waters were smooth for evangelicals.

"One might be considered a capable kayaker if the river currents are moving along at only a few miles per hour," said theologian David Dockery, during the recent convocation rites at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Ft. Worth, Texas, after he was inaugurated as its 10th president.

But the currents changed, while many contented evangelical leaders didn't spot the dangerous waves around them. "I fear that the waters of our cultural context have become much choppier and are moving evermore rapidly with each passing year," said Dockery, who noted that he was beginning his 40th year working in Christian higher education.

Consider a sobering new study -- "The Great Dechurching. Who's Leaving, Why Are They Going, and What Will It Take to Bring Them Back" -- by researchers Jim Davis, Michel Graham and Ryan Burge. Their numbers indicate that evangelicalism has backslid to where it was 50 years ago.

The big question is, "Why?" Dockery said he accepts the study's thesis that many boom-era evangelicals lacked "deep roots in their understanding of the Christian faith." Many evangelicals failed to teach practical discipleship in daily life and seemed reluctant to defend the truths "delivered to the saints" through the ages. This fear of theology has proven to be a disaster as America "has become more secularized, polarized and confused," he said.

Thus, the "Dechurching" trend leads straight to hard questions about seminaries, noted Burge, in his "Graphs about Religion" newsletter.

, , , , , , , ,

The pew gap remains: Journalists should start watching Latino and Black churches

, , , , , , , ,
The pew gap remains: Journalists should start watching Latino and Black churches

As an emerging American voice, the Rev. Jerry Falwell visited South Carolina in 1980 to promote his new Moral Majority network, while urging evangelicals to back Ronald Reagan, instead of President Jimmy Carter, a Southern Baptist.

Then Furman University professor John C. Green was intrigued by mixed reactions on three Baptist campuses in Greenville -- his own "moderate" Baptist school, a mainstream Southern Baptist college and the proudly fundamentalist Bob Jones University. For example, Bob Jones, Jr., called Falwell the "most dangerous man in America today," because of his efforts to unite religious groups in political activism.

This potent blend of politics and religion was an obvious topic for political-science research. Colleagues agreed, but one said they needed to act fast, "since these kinds of trends burn out quick," Green recalled, laughing. "Here we are in 2023 and arguments about religion and politics are hotter than ever."

From the start, experts tried to show a clash between religion and secularism, noted Green, author of "The Faith Factor: How Religion Influences American Elections."

The reality is more complex than a "God gap." By the late 1980s, researchers learned that -- while most Americans remain believers -- it's crucial to note how often voters attend worship services. The more fervently Americans support religious congregations with their time and money, the more likely they are to back cultural conservatives.

This "religiosity gap" remains relevant. A new Pew Research Center analysis noted that, in 2022 midterms: "The gap in voting preferences by religious attendance was as wide as it's been in any of the last several elections: 56% of those who said they attend religious services a few times a year or less reported voting for Democratic candidates in the 2022 midterms. … But GOP candidates were the favorite among those who attend services monthly or more by more than two-to-one (67%, vs. 31% who voted for Democratic candidates)."

Meanwhile, Protestants supported the "GOP by nearly two-to-one." White evangelical support for Republicans hit 86%, while white Catholics "favored Republican candidates by 25 points, whereas Hispanic Catholics favored Democratic candidates by an even greater margin (34 points)." Jewish voters preferred Democrats -- 68% to 32%. Atheists, agnostics or "nothing in particular" voters remained loyal to the Democrats, with 72% supporting that party, and 27% backing Republicans.

, , , , , ,

Looking through the lens of history, the 2023 Asbury revival is 'deja vu' all over again

, , , , , ,
Looking through the lens of history, the 2023 Asbury revival is 'deja vu' all over again

The atmosphere in Hughes auditorium was electric as Asbury students -- many in tears -- streamed to the altar to pray, while worshippers sang hymns, mixed with Bible readings, testimonies and public prayers of repentance.

Administrators cancelled classes, grasping that this ordinary chapel service was the start of something bigger -- a 144-hour wave of worship that drew thousands to Wilmore, Kentucky, while similar revivals began on other Christian and secular campuses across the nation.

The year was 1970.

Then again, revivals rocked Asbury College -- now a liberal-arts university -- in 1908, 1921, 1950, 1958 and on other occasions. Historians will now add 2023.

The revival that began on February 8 is "like deja vu all over again," said Stephen A. Seamands, who was a senior in 1970 and returned to teach for nearly 40 years at Asbury Theological Seminary.

"The wildness of these events is that they're actually un-wild. The atmosphere is serene, deep and at times rather quiet," he said. "It's like a veil is pulled back and students see Jesus for the first time -- Jesus manifested in a new and powerful way."

Outsiders may assume that this two-week revival "is over," after Asbury leaders announced that services would be moved off campus, with students moving toward a regular academic and chapel schedule. At one point, as many as 20,000 people had flocked to central Kentucky.

"Never in my life will I forget this," said Asbury University President Kevin J. Brown, in a public statement. "Never in my life have I been so proud to say that I am a part of Asbury University. I write this with tears. The people here are so special."

Seamands said it "will take 30 years or so" to discern what happened. Revivals, he explained, begin with an awakening inside a Christian community -- that's stage one. True revivals, throughout history, have led to evangelism, missions and "efforts for social justice" at the national and global levels.

"It's also clear that this Asbury revival is about Gen Z and its hunger for genuine worship," said Seamands, referring to Americans born in the Internet age.