Demographics

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DeSantis' Catholic faith goes under the media microscope before '24 presidential primaries

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DeSantis' Catholic faith goes under the media microscope before '24 presidential primaries

The presidential race is just starting to heat up. While it may still be early, candidates are popping up every few days and announcing their intention to seek the Republican nomination in 2024.

Among those seeking to dislodge the early favorite — polling shows that to be former President Donald Trump — is Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis. This is the same man who has become something of a conservative darling in recent years for relentlessly going after “woke” ideology. His battle with Disney is an example of a culture war fight DeSantis hasn’t been afraid to address in recent years.

DeSantis has been criticized for many things, from whether his wife Casey is “a problem” to confusion over the pronunciation of his last name.

As the past weeks have shown, DeSantis’ foray into national politics has come shone a brighter media spotlight on him, his family and beliefs.

Yes, Christian beliefs. It’s true that DeSantis is seen as possibly the only candidate in the ever-growing GOP primary field capable of defeating Trump and possibly even President Joe Biden.

This increased scrutiny — both by the mainstream and religious press — has included whether or not DeSantis, a Catholic, is personally devout. I tackled this very topic more than a year ago in a post that ran under the headline “As Florida’s DeSantis wages culture war, his Catholic faith isn’t news — unless it’s used to attack him.”

Here was the main thrust of my argument:


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Thinking about a sort of 'religious' question: Why do atheists have so few children?

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Thinking about a sort of 'religious' question: Why do atheists have so few children?

One thing I love about studying religion is that it impacts every aspect of social life. How people vote, where they live, what kind of jobs they pursue, are influenced in some way by their religious beliefs and behaviors.

One choice that is clearly shaped by religion is when (and if) adults have children and how large they want their families to be.

In the United States, the fertility rate in 2008 was 2.06 children per woman. In 2023, it’s projected to be 1.78 children per woman. Forty-nine out of 50 states had a lower fertility rate in 2020 compared to 2010 (North Dakota was the only one to buck the trend.)

Obviously, there are a ton of factors that lead to a drop in fertility. Economics is usually considered to be a leading culprit for a drop in fertility. The Great Recession is supposed to lead to an enrollment cliff in higher education in the next five years because people decided to delay pregnancy.

But here’s another explanation that may be playing a noticeable role in the drop in American fertility: the increasing secularization of the United States.

Judaism, Christianity and Islam all encourage their adherents to marry and have children. But lots of Americans don’t adhere to those faiths anymore. I wrote an entire book (actually two of them) about the rising number of Americans who reject religion entirely or, at least, organized forms of faith.

Does this actually matter, though? Do we see in the data a difference in parenting rates for atheists compared to Latter-day Saints, for instance?


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WSJ reporter dares to interview ordinary Eastern Orthodox converts in the Bible Belt

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WSJ reporter dares to interview ordinary Eastern Orthodox converts in the Bible Belt

As you would expect, the recent Wall Street Journal feature on the rising number of converts to Eastern Orthodox Christianity was a big deal here in Orthodox circles in East Tennessee.

Why? The WSJ piece was built, in large part, on contacts with sources here in the Appalachian mountains and nearby. The headline: “Eastern Orthodoxy Gains New Followers in America — Ancient faith is drawing converts with no ties to its historic lands.”

This is not a new story, of course, since the “convert-friendly era” of Orthodoxy began in the 1980s and ‘90s. But, for reasons explained in the WSJ piece, there is enough novelty linked to this trend — especially when contrasted with stark mainline Protestant decline — that the topic has made a few headlines every five years or so.

What this new piece does better than others, I think, is note the paradox found in American Orthodoxy — that some churches are growing rapidly, while others are plateaued or in decline. Consider this statement of the “trend,” which is described as a “small but fast-growing group of Americans from diverse backgrounds who have embraced Orthodoxy in the past few years.” Here is an important background passage:

Eastern Orthodoxy is one of the two parts of the Christian world that emerged from the Great Schism of the 11th century, a split with the Roman Catholic Church caused principally by disagreement over the authority of the pope. Its members belong to a family of churches with historic roots in Eastern Europe, Russia and the region of the eastern Mediterranean. … 

The Eastern Orthodox population of the U.S. is dominated by immigrants from the church’s historic lands and by their descendants. But in recent years, aided by more widely available information on the internet, the church has been attracting more attention from people with no ancestral ties to Orthodoxy, a trend that appears to have accelerated following the outbreak of the Covid-19 pandemic. 

Some pastors across the country report growth of their flocks by 15% or more in a single year owing to conversions, defying an overall trend of decline similar to that in other denominations.

I must be candid and note that here was another reason that this WSJ article created quite a buzz — it contrasted sharply with last year’s NPR piece: “Orthodox Christian churches are drawing in far-right American converts.”


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View from Rome: Italian press aims to inform, but loves tabloid-style Vatican scandals

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View from Rome: Italian press aims to inform, but loves tabloid-style Vatican scandals

There’s nothing like walking down Via della Conciliazione in Rome. It’s a very long street, bustling with cars and tourists, that feeds into St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican. It’s a reminder of how big and imposing the Vatican can be, at least physically, in the increasingly secular West.

Italy, however, remains a Catholic nation, at least culturally, with reminders everywhere you look.

I am back in Italy for the first time since 2018. Unable to visit in recent years because of the pandemic, I am happy to be back to visit family and watch some soccer.   

My return to Italy also gives me the chance to observe how Italian journalists cover the Vatican and Pope Francis. What this close look reveals is a press fixated less on the doctrinal battles and culture-war issues we see in the American press. Instead, it’s all about international politics, the disappearance of a young girl (more on that later) and banking scandals.  

Let me explain. Italian media very much cover the papacy as a political force (it still very much is in this part of the world) and less of a religious one. As we say here at religion, many journalists believe religion is news to the degree that if affects politics.

Scandals involving the Holy See, even ones that are decades old and unsolved, continue to intrigue readers. It’s true that culture war issues were increasingly a factor in Italy’s elections that led to Giorgia Meloni becoming the country’s first female prime minister. It’s also true that Italian newspapers are not objective — many belong to political parties — but they don’t hide that fact from readers. That’s how the press works in Europe.

The big stories the Italian press have covered lately are the pope’s recent meeting with Ukraine’s President Vladimir Zelensky at the Vatican, the unsolved “Vatican Girl” scandal from 1983 and an ongoing trial that has revealed a series of financial scandals. Another big issue for the Vatican and Italy is falling birth rates, a story with strong religious overtones.

These stories transcend whatever political bias Italian newspapers bring to the table. They are seen as important to the country’s geo-political situation (in the case of Ukraine and birth rates).

The other stories reveal a Vatican that is very much involved in shadowy behavior — a corrupt institution that makes for attention-grabbing headlines meant to get clicks and sell newspapers. A murder mystery and alleged financial wrongdoing on the part of bishops will do that.


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Thinking about post-Christian Europe? The Pillar looks for God in the Netherlands

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Thinking about post-Christian Europe? The Pillar looks for God in the Netherlands

There is this old saying that when America sneezes, Europe catches a cold — or something like that.

That’s true, these days, when it comes to many issues in economics and politics.

But I have always thought that this equation works the other way around when it comes to issues of culture, morality and faith. The trends we see in the European Union seem to make it across the Atlantic sooner or later. If this is true, European trends in Catholicism, and other faiths, are worth watching.

This brings us to another “think piece” for journalists (and news consumers), this time care of The Pillar, a must-follow independent news and commentary site covering many things Catholic. The headline: “Finding God in the Netherlands.”

But, before we get there, let’s pause to recall a famous 1969 radio interview, or sermon, offered by Father Joseph Ratzinger, who would eventually become Pope Benedict XVI. Readers will often find the full text under this title, “What Will the Church Look Like in 2000?” Here are two large chunks of this famous, many would say prophetic, material:

From the crisis of today the Church of tomorrow will emerge — a Church that has lost much. She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. As the number of her adherents diminishes, so it will lose many of her social privileges. In contrast to an earlier age, it will be seen much more as a voluntary society, entered only by free decision. As a small society, it will make much bigger demands on the initiative of her individual members.

There’s more, a few lines later:

The Church will be a more spiritual Church, not presuming upon a political mandate, flirting as little with the Left as with the Right. It will be hard going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy. It will make her poor and cause her to become the Church of the meek. The process will be all the more arduous, for sectarian narrow-mindedness as well as pompous self-will will have to be shed. One may predict that all of this will take time.

This brings us to the long feature at The Pillar written by Edgar Beltran, a philosopher and political scientist from Maracaibo, Venezuela, who is doing Philosophy of Religion graduate work at Radboud University in Nijmegen, the Netherlands.


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Podcast: What's going on with Southern Baptist decline? Count the news hooks ...

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Podcast: What's going on with Southern Baptist decline? Count the news hooks ...

Back in the early 1980s, the Southern Baptist Convention was enduring the crucial years of its civil war over — here’s the term headline writers hated — “biblical inerrancy.”

I was at the Charlotte News and then the Charlotte Observer back then, in a city in which one of the major roads was named after Billy Graham. The SBC spectrum in Charlotte ranged from hard-core conservatives to “moderates” who were basically liberal mainline Protestants with better preaching.

During that time, a moderate church welcomed the the late Rev. Gardner C. Taylor of Brooklyn to its pulpit for a series of sermons (“moderates” don’t have “revivals”). Taylor would make just about anyone’s list — Top 100 or even Top 10 — of that era’s most celebrated preachers. In 1980, Time magazine hailed him as the “the dean of the nation’s black preachers.” That’s saying something.

During one sermon, Taylor briefly addressed the SBC wars and added, with a slight smile, that he always thought that the primary book in the Bible that Southern Baptists “considered inerrant was the Book of Numbers.”

Southern Baptists have always loved their statistics (I grew up in Texas, the son of a Southern Baptist pastor) and, for decades, those statistics made their leaders smile.

Things are a bit more complex, right now, as seen in this RNS headline: “Southern Baptists lost nearly half a million members in 2022.” That story, and some other related online materials, provided the hook for this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in).

Before we get to that solid news piece, by religion-beat veteran Bob Smietana (a scribe in Nashville for years), let’s grab some context from a new Substack post by chart-master Ryan Burge, a GetReligion contributor (and former Southern Baptist), with this headline: “The 2022 Data on the Southern Baptist Convention is Out.”

Check out these numbers from the past 80 years, a period in which the SBC’s rise “is just unmatched.”


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'Cultural Christianity' is fading and that reality is linked to some other newsy trends

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'Cultural Christianity' is fading and that reality is linked to some other newsy trends

One of the trends I have been tracking a bit recently is the concept of “cultural Christianity.”

There’s really no settled definition of what it means, but I’ve always conceived of it as people who like the idea of being Christian without all the obligations or attachments of being part of a local church community. In other words — religion without all the hard stuff.

Once upon a time — especially in the American heartland — it really helped to be a member of a religious flock, to one degree or another. It was good for business. It offered positive social ties, especially if your pew was in a respectable mainline church. Those days are gone in many, many zip codes.

But here is the Big Idea for this post: There seems to be two competing forces in American politics and religion. The first is that we are becoming more religiously polarized — the rise of the nones on the left, but also the consistent strength of those conservative religious traditions on the right. However, a countervailing narrative is that despite that bifurcation of faith in the United States, Americans still have an overriding deference to religious expression — especially if it's the Christian religion. 

The starting point for this post is a graph with a strong political-news hook.

Democrats who leave religion behind, just walk from all of it. Among those who never or seldom attend religious services, just 10% say that religion is very important. That hasn’t changed in the last 14 years.

 However, among Republicans who never or seldom attend religious services, the share who say that religion is very important has risen from 17% to 27%.

Attention journalists: It’s this fusion of conservative political ideology and religious identity — without the behavior part — that is really worth watching, especially in GOP primaries where voters have more options (think, other than Donald Trump in recent years).


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Global South Anglicans make big effort to start cutting Canterbury ties that bind (Part I)

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Global South Anglicans make big effort to start cutting Canterbury ties that bind (Part I)

After a half-century of decline, the U.S. Episcopal Church has 1.5 million members, and its average weekly attendance was just above 500,000 before COVID-19 and 300,000 afterwards.

After decades of explosive growth, the Anglican Church of Nigeria claims about 18 million members (others say 8 million), and the Center for Global Christianity near Boston estimates it has 22 million active participants in worship.

Caught in the middle of these two trends is the Most Reverend Justin Welby, by Divine Providence the 105th Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of All England and the "first among equals" among bishops in the 42 churches in the Anglican Communion. While his own flock claims 26 million baptized members, about 600,000 attend weekly services.

Now, Global South church leaders -- representing about 75% of Anglicans who frequent pews -- have decided that it's time to start cutting ties between the "Canterbury Communion" and the rest of the Anglican Communion.

“We have no confidence that the Archbishop of Canterbury nor the other Instruments of Communion led by him … are able to provide a godly way forward that will be acceptable to those who are committed to the truthfulness, clarity, sufficiency and authority of Scripture," warned the Global Anglican Future Conference, which met April 17-21 in Kigali, Rwanda. GAFCON IV drew 1,302 delegates from 52 nations, including 315 bishops.

Meeting together, leaders of GAFCON and the Global South Fellowship of Anglican Churches said they "can no longer recognize the Archbishop of Canterbury as an Instrument of Communion, the 'first among equals' of the Primates. The Church of England has chosen to impair her relationship with the orthodox provinces in the Communion."

While this gathering in Africa drew little or no coverage from Western news organizations, Lambeth Palace released a brief response, noting that the Kigali Commitment statement echoed many previous claims about Anglican governance.


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Here is a strange question: Why doesn't the U.S. Census ask questions about religion?

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Here is a strange question: Why doesn't the U.S. Census ask questions about religion?

QUESTION:

“Why doesn’t the U.S. Census ask about religion?”

THE RELIGION GUY’S ANSWER:

Most Americans may never have thought about this, an odd omission considering that religion is such an important aspect of society. Canada’s government, for example, has asked about religious affiliations since 1871.

But from the first once-a-decade U.S. Census conducted in 1790, the federal government has never directly asked all Americans about their religion (or lack thereof). Responses are anonymous, which should remove any sensitivities about answering such a question. The usual explanation is that “separation of church and state” forbids such questionining by a government agency, which is debatable.

Much of the history below draws upon an April 12  article about the Census by the Pew Research Center that has further detail for those interested, available by clicking here.

Instead of church-and-state entanglement, The Guy offers a different sort of objection to Census involvement. Religious affiliation or identity may be too complicated a matter for government nose-counters to deal with accurately.

Several non-government agencies with more expertise in this area collect standard data on Americans’ religion, with numbers that regularly conflict due to differing methods, assumptions and definitions.

One of the most important is Pew Research’s own Religious Landscape Study, last issued in 2014. www.pewresearch.org/religion/religious-landscape-study/Groundwork for the next round has already begun. Pew’s precision on religious factions and identities is vital because Protestant categories like “Lutheran” or “Presbyterian” mask big differences among groups with that label.

That sort of specificity is also provided in the “U.S. Religion Census” conducted each decade since 1990 by experts in religion statistics.


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