Ethics

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Baptist life in Texas: Where did all of those Southwestern Baptist Seminary students go?

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Baptist life in Texas: Where did all of those Southwestern Baptist Seminary students go?

I have no idea who said the following quote. But, somewhere in my young Texas Baptist life, I heard someone say: “Texas is the wallet on which the Southern Baptist Convention sits.”

OK, I cleaned up the grammar on that. It was probably: “Texas is the wallet Southern Baptists sit on.”

But the big idea was that there were so many Baptists in the Lone Star state — and so many different KINDS of Southern Baptists — that nothing could happen in the national SBC without taking into account the financial and statistical clout of Texas. Baptist diversity? Once upon a time, more than a few Texas Baptist preachers were basically Universalists with better preaching skills.

Thus, it’s important that, for the past quarter century or so, there have been TWO competing Southern Baptist conventions in the state — the conservative Southern Baptists of Texas and the old-guard Baptist General Convention of Texas. My father worked for the BGCT when I was in elementary school.

I can remember the old days when the state’s ink-on-paper Baptist Standard newspaper had legions of out-of-state subscribers, because many pastors wanted to scan the announcement pages to see when there were open jobs in Texas pulpits. Most of those readers were, logically enough, graduates of the then-massive Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.

This brings me to a much-discussed headline in the Nashville Tennessean: “Why a prominent Southern Baptist seminary is on the verge of 'crisis' after leadership upheaval.” This is a calm, factual story that, well, shows admirable restraint when it comes to some hot-button issues causing SBC tensions. These two names are missing, for example — Donald Trump and retired Judge Paul Pressler. But there is also a rather important hole linked to the Texas Baptist clout I mentioned earlier. Hold that thought.

First, here is the overture:

A prominent Southern Baptist seminary is taking corrective action as it reels from a cascade of financial mismanagement and reputational hits spanning several presidential administrations.


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Do the math: Was Archbishop Rembert Weakland a flawed hero or an erudite heretic?

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Do the math: Was Archbishop Rembert Weakland a flawed hero or an erudite heretic?

Writing obituaries about controversial — but to many people beloved — public figures is a difficult task that involves some complicated mathematics.

The death of former Catholic Archbishop Rembert Weakland of Milwaukee is a classic example and, here is the crucial point in this post, this was not a simple matter of “left” vs. “right.”

That said, there is no question that for decades — during the papacies of St. Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI — Weakland was a liberal Catholic superstar, with the word “liberal” in this case defined in political, cultural and doctrinal terms. But then there were revelations about his ethics and private life.

Thus, it was not surprising to see a double-decker New York Times headline with this kind of content:

Archbishop Rembert Weakland, Critic of Vatican Orthodoxy, Dies at 95

In his long career, he was an intellectual touchstone for progressive Catholic reformers. But he resigned after the disclosure of a long-ago love affair.

The Gray Lady’s obit also included this block of background material:

In the 1980s and ’90s, Archbishop Weakland had been a thorny problem for the Vatican. Addressing issues that troubled many of America’s more than 60 million Catholics, he championed new roles for women; questioned church bans on abortion, birth control and divorce; and challenged the Vatican’s insistence on celibacy for an all-male priesthood.

He also became a leading critic of America’s economic and social policies during the administration of President Ronald Reagan, drafting a landmark 120-page pastoral letter on the economy that called for reordering the nation’s priorities to cut military spending and attack poverty and inequality.

However, let me stress that the Times placed that salute to Weakland AFTER a pretty solid, accurate look at his scandalous fall and other revelations that emerged about his behavior and decisions, for decades, during the Church of Rome’s hellish clergy sexual abuse crisis.

If you want to dig into the hard facts about Weakland’s role in that crisis, click here for crucial material — “Deposition of Archbishop Emeritus Rembert G. Weakland, O.S.B.” — by the independent Bishop Accountability organization. That is an organization that defied a simple “left” or “right” tag.


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This is sooooo New York Times? Cannibalism is hip, which raises zero religious questions

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This is sooooo New York Times? Cannibalism is hip, which raises zero religious questions

While it isn’t conventional grammar, there are times when people use “New York Times” as descriptive phrase, rather than as a noun. Here’s a common example: “He is a New York Times Republican.” A variation would be, “He is a New York Times conservative columnist.”

From time to time, I have also received emails from readers pointing me toward a story with a description that reads something like this: “There are New York Times stories and there are New York Times stories, but this is a perfect NEW YORK TIMES story.” In other words, this particular story is a symbolic example of the worldview commonly found in America’s most influential newsroom.

If you follow social media, you know that quite a few people had that kind of reaction to a feature that ran the other day with this eye-grabbing double-decker headline:

A Taste for Cannibalism?

A spate of recent stomach-churning books, TV shows and films suggests we’ve never looked so delicious — to one another

As veteran GetReligionista Clemente Lisi put it, via email: “This story wouldn't pass what we at the NY Post used to call the ‘Cheerios test.’ That is, people don't want to read about this as they have breakfast, especially on a Sunday!”

As that headline suggests, this is one of those oh-so New York Times trend pieces about the sophisticated cultural tastes of sophisticated people living in sophisticated zip codes. The only question, with this kind of topic, is whether it appears first in the Times or on National Public Radio. Here is the overture:

An image came to Chelsea G. Summers: a boyfriend, accidentally on purpose hit by a car, some quick work with a corkscrew and his liver served Tuscan style, on toast.

That figment of her twisted imagination is what prompted Ms. Summers to write her novel, “A Certain Hunger,” about a restaurant critic with a taste for (male) human flesh.

Turns out, cannibalism has a time and a place. In the pages of some recent stomach-churning books, and on television and film screens, Ms. Summers and others suggest that that time is now.

The contents of this feature — think issues of omission, as well as commission — led me to a logical question, at least one that would be logical here at GetReligion: What does this influential cultural trend have to do with religion?

Very little, and that surprised me, since cannibalism and religion are often served on the same platter in certain cultures.


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A key anti-Donald Trump evangelical ponders what seven years have wrought in America

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A key anti-Donald Trump evangelical ponders what seven years have wrought in America

This is the 11th Guy Memo in a year guiding the media and other observers on dynamics within U.S. evangelical Protestantism. There are growing signs of a crack-up including, for sure, sexual scandals and self-inflicted wounds, but also the gap between institutional elites and the grassroots, creating division, instability and, we can expect, long-term damage.

If 11 articles seem like overkill, The Guy notes this has long been the most dynamic segment in American religion, and probably the largest in terms of active attendance. Though made up of organizationally chaotic fiefdoms, the movement’s impact rested upon substantial solidarity in belief and social outlook compared with other religious sectors.

Then seven years ago the disruptive force known as Donald J. Trump emerged.

Which brings us to last week’s significant scan by prominent evangelical Marvin Olasky in the conservative National Review.

Importantly, this does not come from some well-meaning outsider (thinking of you, David Brooks) but a career-long insider who’s profoundly conservative in both biblical belief and politics. But he is also anti-Trump.

Here we need to pause to sketch the landscape in evangelical journalism.

Olasky says the “big three” news outlets of evangelicalism are World magazine, where he was longtime editor-in-chief, the 66-year-old Christianity Today and Charisma, voice of the Pentecostal-charismatic wing of this hard-to-define world. (Beat specialists would of course add other informative websites without print editions.)

During Trump’s 2020 campaign, Charisma CEO Stephen Strang issued a book subtitled “Why He [Trump] Must Win and What’s at Stake for Christians If He Loses,” followed by a magazine piece telling readers “Why We Must Support Trump in Prayer and at the Polls.”

But the other two top editors disagreed. In World, Olasky proclaimed Trump morally “unfit for power” just before the 2016 election. In 2019, Christianity Today editor-in-chief Mark Galli called for Trump’s impeachment and removal from office over Ukraine meddling for partisan purposes.


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'Forced' to bear twins: Washington Post offers morality tale about reluctant teen mom in Texas

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'Forced' to bear twins: Washington Post offers morality tale about reluctant teen mom in Texas

When I saw the headline to the Washington Post story: “This Texas teen wanted an abortion. Now she has twins,” I thought, “Here we go again.“

We were going to read about Texas, the state that had the nerve to limit abortions to around the sixth week of pregnancy and the many women who are now being forced to bear children.

There’s so many problems with this story, it’s hard to know where to start. I’ll try.

The narrative begins with a scene from the life of Brooke Alexander, who is trying to nurse two three-month-old twins in a run-down apartment with blankets as curtains. We learn quickly that she’s living in the home of her boyfriend after her heartless mother has kicked her out. This is the same mother who encouraged her to continue with the pregnancy in the first place.

Brooke found out she was pregnant late on the night of Aug. 29, two days before the Texas Heartbeat Act banned abortions once an ultrasound can detect cardiac activity, around six weeks of pregnancy. It was the most restrictive abortion law to take effect in the United States in nearly 50 years.

For many Texans who have needed abortions since September, the law has been a major inconvenience, forcing them to drive hundreds of miles — and pay hundreds of dollars — for a legal procedure they once could have had at home. But not everyone has been able to leave the state. Some people couldn’t take time away from work or afford gas, while others, faced with a long journey, decided to stay pregnant.

Nearly 10 months into the Texas law, they have started having the babies they never planned to carry to term. Texas offers a glimpse of what much of the country would face if the Supreme Court overturns Roe v. Wade this summer. …

Did the couple use birth control? Did they care? It appears that the reporter never asked many basic questions. We do know that Brooke’s dad has been missing for much of her life; she talks about feeling that she is unattractive and all of a sudden here’s this guy paying attention to her.

Here we have two teens, both 17, who have unprotected sex apparently on the first or second date. She ignores obvious signs (two missed periods) until it’s too late; the Heartbeat Law is going into effect.

Sometimes Brooke imagined her life if she hadn’t gotten pregnant, if Texas hadn’t banned abortion just days after she decided that she wanted one. She would have been in school, rushing from class to her shift at Texas Roadhouse, eyes on a real estate license that would finally get her out of Corpus Christi. She’d pictured an apartment in Austin and enough money for a trip to Hawaii, where she’d swim with dolphins in water so clear she could see her toes.

Ah, the freedom that abortion brings. And the villains in this story? We will get there in a moment.


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What happens after Anaheim '22? That will unfold in pulpits, pews and big SBC institutions

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What happens after Anaheim '22? That will unfold in pulpits, pews and big SBC institutions

Before the Southern Baptists Convention's strong vote to approve what supporters called "bare minimum" sexual-abuse reforms -- with victims in the crowd weeping with relief -- there was a strategic amendment to the recommendations.

Rather than stay with the independent Guidepost Solutions organization, the Abuse Reform Implementation Task Force would seek to use "best practices in keeping with Southern Baptist church polity," while a "Ministry Check" website tracking those "credibly accused" of abuse would be "established and maintained by an independent contractor."

Activist Rachel Denhollander pleaded, before the vote: "Institutions must be held accountable. It doesn't matter who they are. Justice and truth are always what we should pursue."

Afterwards, the attorney and #ChurchToo abuse survivor posted another challenge on Twitter: "It is the first, most basic steps. But it is a testament to the survivors who fought so long and so hard. I am grateful. Now let's keep working."

That work will depend on the cooperation of pastors and church leaders in the SBC's 47,000 local churches, as well as the administrators and trustees of agencies, boards, seminaries and other institutions at the state and national levels.

The bottom line: In Southern Baptist "polity" -- with sprawling structures of autonomous congregations that, to varying degrees, fund state, national and global ministries -- there are no leadership structures resembling local Presbyterian presbyteries, regional annual conferences among United Methodists or the powerful diocesan structures of Catholics, Episcopalians and others. Local churches ordain, hire and fire clergy.

Outsiders often struggle to understand the theological and practical implications of Baptist polity, said Thomas Kidd, who teaches church history at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and Baylor University.

"Many people continue to think that the SBC can make its churches do this or that or the other and that simply isn't true," he said.


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Nowhere to hide: Los Angeles Times hit job focuses on one side of Biola University tensions

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Nowhere to hide: Los Angeles Times hit job focuses on one side of Biola University tensions

If you have followed trends in academic and student life at Biola University over the past 25 years or so — I have spoken there about 10 times in that period — you know that this is a complex campus, with all kinds of divisions on theological, moral, political and cultural issues.

As a rule, campus administrators there are just as uncomfortable with strong conservative voices as they are with candid evangelical progressives. Thus, all kinds of Biola believers have learned to state radically different convictions in language that can be called “evangelical” to one degree or another. The goal is to keep painful fights out of publications read by parents, donors and even trustees.

It’s important to keep this in mind while reading the Los Angeles Times morality-tale sermon that ran the other day with this headline: “CRT, Trumpism and doubt roil Biola University. Is this the future of evangelical Christianity?” The headline failed to include the key issue in this story — clashes over the validity of 2,000 years of Christian doctrine on sexuality and marriage.

For additional insights on political and theological diversity found Christian campuses, it will help to read this classic 1995 essay at The Atlantic — “The Warring Visions of the Religious Right” — by the liberal Baptist scholar Harvey Cox of Harvard Divinity School (author of the ‘60s bestseller, “The Secular City”).

Oh, and speaking of liberal Baptist scholars, one of the defining voices in the new Los Angeles Times feature is David Gushee of Mercer University. It was totally valid to include his voice in this story, but it was interesting that he is quoted as a neutral academic expert on these matters, as opposed to being an articulate spokesman for activists on one side of the doctrinal war being covered in this story.

After all, it was Gushee who opened a classic 2016 essay for Religion News Service with these lines:

Middle ground is disappearing on the question of whether LGBT persons should be treated as full equals, without any discrimination in society — and on the related question of whether religious institutions should be allowed to continue discriminating due to their doctrinal beliefs.

It turns out that you are either for full and unequivocal social and legal equality for LGBT people, or you are against it, and your answer will at some point be revealed. This is true both for individuals and for institutions.

Neutrality is not an option. Neither is polite half-acceptance. Nor is avoiding the subject. Hide as you might, the issue will come and find you.

Thus, the Los Angeles Times has come to confront the leaders of Biola University.


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The New Yorker profiles a pro-life ob-gyn student and the Twitter mobs descend

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The New Yorker profiles a pro-life ob-gyn student and the Twitter mobs descend

When Emma Green announced she was leaving the religion beat at The Atlantic to cover cultural conflicts in academia for the New Yorker, many of us hoped that she could squeeze a bit of religion reporting into the mix.

I’ve got to say this about her first piece for the latter: One cannot accuse her of dodging controversy. This is the story of a pro-life obstetrics student in an occupation that is formidably bent in the other direction and what it’s like to get consistently slammed by one’s professional peers.

Green had no sooner posted the story on Twitter than a cascade of hateful responses sprung up.

In the past there have been many stories in the mainstream media about what aspiring pro-abortion-rights ob-gyns go through in terms of training — but this is the first one I’ve seen in a major publication about what the abortion opponents go through.

After introducing Cara Buskmiller as a millennial Catholic woman desiring to become an ob-gyn, the story continues:

But in 2010, as Buskmiller prepared to apply to medical school, she worried that admissions committees would be skeptical of her beliefs, and how her personal objections to abortion and birth control would affect her practice as an ob-gyn. What would program directors think of the volunteer stints she’d done at a crisis pregnancy center? And, when it came time for residency, would she be able to duck out of certain clinical rotations to avoid assisting with abortions?

Buskmiller got into medical school at Texas A. & M., and she went on to do her residency at St. Louis University, a Catholic school. But she felt that students like her needed more backup. So, during her second year as a resident, she launched a Web site called Conscience in Residency, a support network for doctors-in-training who have moral objections to abortion. The site’s tagline is “You’re not crazy, and you’re not alone.”

It feels that way to people like Buskmiller whose faith forbids them from taking part in abortions, sterilizations and dispensing with contraceptives.

The hatred shown toward such young professionals is almost pathological. There’s no middle ground here.


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Podcast: Those hellish SBC sexual-abuse stories? They may be coming to a zip code near you

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Podcast: Those hellish SBC sexual-abuse stories? They may be coming to a zip code near you

There’s an old saying in the real estate business about properties that get hot and then sell quickly: “Location, location, location.”

That’s precisely where we are right now with the sexual-abuse scandal that looms over the core institutions of the giant, complex, sprawling Southern Baptist Convention.

Where is the story heating up right now? Where is the story going in the future? The answer to both of those questions is: “Location, location, location.” This is true with current events (and events yet to come) and it’s also true with the must-read coverage of this big story. We focused on both sides of that equation during this week’s GetReligion podcast (CLICK HERE to tune that in).

First, let’s talk about the journalism behind this story, which has been building for several years now (see this Bobby Ross, Jr., “Plug-In” update for a starter). Everything begins in Texas and Tennessee and reporters there who are doing the heavy lifting — in Nashville and Houston, to be specific. You can see this, ironically, in this Washington Post story: “How two Texas newspapers broke open the Southern Baptist sex scandal.” Here is the overture:

Houston Chronicle city hall reporter Robert Downen was on the night shift one evening in 2018, just a few months into the job, when something caught his attention.

Scrolling through an online federal court docket, he spotted a lawsuit that accused Paul Pressler, a prominent former judge and leader of the Southern Baptist Convention, of sexual assault. While the case had been previously reported, newly filed documents painted an even more damning picture, including the revelation that Pressler had previously agreed to pay his accuser $450,000. Downen, then 25, probed more deeply and discovered other survivors of church abuse, who made it clear to him, he recalled, that “if you think this problem is confined to one leader, we have quite a bit to show you.”

Downen’s ever-growing spreadsheet of cases soon inspired a larger reporting effort to quantify the scope of sex abuse within the massive Protestant denomination. Journalists at the Chronicle and the San Antonio Express-News teamed up to create a database of cases involving nearly 300 church leaders and more than 700 victims for their landmark 2019 “Abuse of Faith” series.

A wave of outrage in response to the series rocked the Southern Baptist Convention, prompting its Executive Committee to hire an outside firm to investigate.

Sexual-abuse accusations against Pressler had been rumbling for decades behind closed doors and in locked-tight legal proceedings. I first heard about them in the early 1980s, through a well-placed contact at CBS News, when I first hit the religion beat at The Charlotte News. There was smoke, but no one could get to the fire. The fact that this SBC giant’s accusers were young males only added to the tension.

If you know SBC life — I grew up as a Texas Baptist preacher’s kid and my whole family has Baylor University ties — then you may know this old saying: Texas is the wallet on which the SBC sits.


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