Godbeat

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Religious Right? Those true believers are nowhere near as politically active as atheists

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Religious Right? Those true believers are nowhere near as politically active as atheists

The last 40 years of politics and religion has been focused squarely on the ascendancy of the Religious Right.

I must admit that I’ve probably contributed my fair share to that discourse, as well.

A motley crew of white evangelicals and traditional Catholics locked arms on some social issues, started voting in large numbers for Republican candidates, and changed American politics forever.

But I think that era of religion and politics is rapidly coming to a close. The Religious Right is no longer a primarily religious movement — from my point of view it’s one about cultural conservatism and nearly blind support for the GOP with few trappings of any real religiosity behind it.

Here’s what I believe to be the emerging narrative of the next several decades: the rise of atheism and their unbelievably high level of political engagement in recent electoral politics. Let me put it plainly: atheists are the most politically active group in American politics today and the Democrats (and some Republicans) ignore them at their own peril.

The data is clear and unequivocal on this point - no one gets involved in the political process to the level of the average atheist.

The Cooperative Election Study always asks a nice little battery of questions about political engagement. It’s phrased simply as: have you done any of the following activities in the previous month? Because the CES is fielded in the height of election season, if someone was going to get politically active, they would be doing so in October or November of an election year.

The group that is most likely to contact a public official? Atheists.

The group that puts up political signs at the highest rates? Atheists.


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Once more into the breach: Kind-of-PBS website offers PR for 'independent' Catholic flock

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Once more into the breach: Kind-of-PBS website offers PR for 'independent' Catholic flock

Let’s do something quick this morning, since it is Memorial Day (some readers might be online, pre- or post-cookouts) and I am also getting ready for two weeks of travel.

So let’s do something simple on one of the most complex, controversial and bizarre topics I have ever handled as a journalist. I am referring to the global web of “Old Catholic” churches — which can be everything from conservative Latin rite flocks to far-left modernist movements that really should just join the Episcopal Church and that would be that.

Decades ago, in Denver, I tried to follow the ordination clains of a controversial — but well known — priest and hospital chaplain and, before I knew it, I had about three folders full of conflicting info about sacraments and orders and my head was spinning. The highlight was a chat with a local mailman who had a detailed flow-chart proving that he was an archbishop with orders as valid as those of Pope John Paul II.

This brings me (Once more, into the breach!) to a news report from Flatland, a non-profit news website in Kansas City. The “about” page states: “We’re Kansas City PBS’ nonprofit journalism source, a destination for local and regional storytelling.” The headline proclaims: “Gay Priest Shepherds Nontraditional ‘Catholic’ Church.” Here’s the overture:

The red brick church at 700 West Pennway on Kansas City’s West Side has undergone several religious conversions in its long history. 

This late 19th-century building was home to West Side Christian Church from 1893 until 1986, when property managers Jeff Krum and Adam Jones bought it. 

Then, until 2000, it became secular as the home for the City in Motion dance company. Next, the Buddhist Rime Center made its home there from 2001 until 2020. 

And now, for almost two years, it’s housed the relatively new Christ the King Independent Catholic Church. 

The “Catholic” part of the name takes a bit of explaining. 

At this point, readers really need to know something — at least a few paragraphs — about the world of “independent” and “Old Catholic” rites. After all, the term “independent Catholic” makes about as much sense as “jumbo shrimp,” “military intelligence” and “genuine laminated rosewood.”


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Plug-In: What do we know about the faith of the two latest GOP White House candidates?

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Plug-In: What do we know about the faith of the two latest GOP White House candidates?

A week has passed since influential pastor and author Tim Keller’s death. Look for some of the best tributes to him below.

Making news today: Texas’ GOP-controlled House could impeach scandal-ridden Republican Attorney General Ken Paxton and kick the longtime Christian right culture warrior out of office, The Associated Press’ Jake Bleiberg and Jim Vertuno report.

Jumping into this week’s roundup of the top headlines and best reads in the world of faith, we start with two new entrants in the 2024 presidential race.

What To Know: The Big Story

Political opposites: “One has the most winning personality in politics,” the Wall Street Journal’s Peggy Noonan says of South Carolina Sen. Tim Scott.

“The other doesn’t but has a story to tell about policy,” Noonan says of Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis.

Thusly, the Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist and speechwriter for former President Ronald Reagan characterizes the two aspirants who declared for the GOP nomination this past week.

Scott focuses on faith: “A cornerstone of Republican Tim Scott's political career has been an unyielding faith,” USA Today’s Phillip M. Bailey notes.

Monday’s campaign kickoff by Scott, one of the nation’s most prominent Black Republicans, emphasized his Christian faith and personal story, according to the Washington Post’s Marianne LeVine.

At Politico, Natalie Allison asks, “Can Tim Scott actually win with piles of money, lots of faith and a big bet on Iowa?”


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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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Podcast: Beer drinkers and soccer moms -- changes in boycott 'woke' corporations wars

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Podcast: Beer drinkers and soccer moms -- changes in boycott 'woke' corporations wars

In the summer of 1997, the Southern Baptist Convention called for a boycott of the Walt Disney Company, acting in response to some early power mouse gay-rights decisions.

Eight years later, the leaders of America’s largest non-Catholic flock quietly called off the boycott, which was a bit of a dud. The news coverage was, well, joyfully muted.

Why did this boycott fail? Well, for one thing, lots of SBC guys probably found it hard to ditch ESPN and lots of parents who were “conservatives” found it hard to stop using Disney movies as babysitters.

This brings us to the current headlines about Bud Light and Target, which served as the hook for this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in).

Baptists vs. Disney? Kind of a big deal, but not really. Then again, Disney executives may be aware of box-office issues with some of their recent LGBTQ+ themes in big-screen products for children. You think?

Ah, but what about beer drinkers vs. Bud Light? That battle over in-your-face corporate support for trans performance art appears to have legs. See this update from NBC News: “'Nobody imagined it would go on this long': Bud Light sales continue to plummet over Mulvaney backlash.”

Suburban parents (especially in red states) vs. Target? That’s a more complex subject, but there are signs that Tarjey executives have started doing homework on the watered-down beer battles.

This raises a perfectly valid question: Are there religion ghosts in the Bud Light and Target backlash stories? I mean, how many Southern Baptists are Bud Light fans?

The actual question is this: Are there religion ghosts in the neverending wars between Middle America and “woke” corporate support for the ever-changing doctrines of the Sexual Revolution?

I would say, “yes.” But it’s clear that the cultural battles now involve armies larger than people in conservative pews.


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New Ipsos survey includes newsworthy updates on religious attitudes worldwide

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New Ipsos survey includes newsworthy updates on religious attitudes worldwide

There’s obvious news potential in a poll about religious attitudes that covers 26 nations and with fresh data (collected between January 20 and February 3).

Media chart-makers could have fun with the many numbers in the 40-page “Global Religion 2023: Religious Beliefs Across the World,” issued May 11 by Ipsos, the noted international market research and polling firm. For more information, see the full document (.pdf here) and the basic press release (.pdf here).

Coverage by the Southern Baptist Convention’s press service plucked out one notable number that others also emphasized: “Nearly half, 47%, of the global population believes that religion does more harm than good [though Ipsos] did not explore the reasons behind the perception . …”

By contrast, there were heavily positive attitudes toward religion’s impact in Thailand, Turkey and four South American nations. The U.S. fell in the middle range with 39% seeing “more harm.”  

But journalists need to note this: The harshly negative view was especially powerful in both secularized Sweden and in India, which on many other Ipsos measures has the globe’s most devout population! Go figure.

Before plunging into other data, The Guy offers colleagues a few preliminary thoughts on news reporting about this survey, which follows a similar Ipsos project in 2017, and whether instead it’s wiser to just keep the report on file for selective later use where pertinent.

The “26-country average” used by Ipsos lumps together all its findings, suggesting numbers like the 47% who see “more harm” represent the entire global population.

The Guy thinks these numbers may be too sketchy to tell us much.


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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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It will be easy for journalists to find God connections in Turkey's run-off election

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It will be easy for journalists to find God connections in Turkey's run-off election

A few weeks ago, I got the opportunity to spend a few days in Turkey (recently re-branded as Türkiye), a country I’d not visited in 19 years. Back then, I was in Turkey’s mainly Kurdish southeastern sector — near the location of Turkey’s Feb. 6 earthquakes. It was like a visit to America’s Jim Crow past, as Kurds are a despised minority in Turkey.

My most recent journey (courtesy of the country’s tourism board) was very different — a swing around the country’s south-central precincts tracing the steps of St. Paul, who zig-zagged about Turkey during several visits.

While there, I experienced plenty of reminders (billboards and cars parades blasting slogans) that this was Turkey’s election season and that the country’s future very much hung on whether the current president, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan could be unseated in the upcoming May 28 run-off election.

Stay with that thought, because we will return to some observations on religion angles in the upcoming presidential run-off election.

Whatever happens, Erdogan will be a footnote in history. As Turkey’s most famous native son throughout the ages, Paul grew up in Tarsus, about 10 miles from the Mediterranean coast. It’s thought that his Jewish forebears arrived there a few centuries before and were made Roman citizens due to them being landowners. Tarsus was our first stop and because it’s impossible to know exactly where Paul’s family lived, the government has had to rely on where church tradition says it might have been.

So, there’s a “St. Paul’s well” with water you can still drink; some first-century ruins under protective glass, a St. Paul Museum surrounded by mulberry bushes and even an Islamic site purporting to be the biblical prophet Daniel’s tomb. One needs a tour guide to get about this town; these sites would have been difficult to locate in a rental car.

Those of us who live in the New World have difficulty imagining life in a country built on layers and layers of archeological sites; where’s it’s nothing to find a 2,000-year-old piece of statuary in one’s back yard and where the earliest Christians hung out.


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Tim Keller sought 'winsome' Manhattan apologetics, a goal that became more difficult

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Tim Keller sought 'winsome' Manhattan apologetics, a goal that became more difficult

If one looks up the word “winsome” in a dictionary, here is a typical example of what shows up, via Merriam-Webster: “generally pleasing and engaging often because of a childlike charm and innocence.”

However, a Google search for the term “winsome,” when combined with “Tim Keller,” opens up a window into a completely different world — one closely linked to debates about the meaning of the word “evangelical” in a Donald Trump-era culture.

Frankly, I am not going to go there. What I will do is urge GetReligion readers who visit Twitter to follow the #TimKeller hashtag and check out the waves of tributes in the wake of the passing of one of the most important American evangelicals — defined in terms of doctrine — in recent decades.

Instead of looking at the tsunami of news coverage, I will simply note the obvious — Keller is receiving much, or even most, of this attention because he lived, worked, preached and wrote in New York City. If his career had unfolded in the Bible Belt, mainstream journalists would never have heard of him. Thus, here is the New York Times double-decker headline on its obituary (which ran quickly, but inside the print edition):

The Rev. Timothy Keller, Pioneering Manhattan Evangelist, Dies at 72

Shunning fire and brimstone, he became a best-selling author and founded Redeemer Presbyterian Church, which drew young New Yorkers.

The Gray Lady’s lede offered this:

The Rev. Timothy J. Keller, a best-selling author and theorist of Christianity who performed a modern miracle of his own — establishing a theologically orthodox church in Manhattan that attracted thousands of young professional followers — died on Friday at his home in Manhattan. He was 72.

Yes, we can talk about the accuracy of the word “evangelist” in the headline. Once again, there are mainstream journalists who believe that is simply another way to say “evangelical.” Unless I missed something, Keller was not active in holding the kinds of public events — think Billy Graham “crusades” — normally associated with public evangelism. Were there some Central Park rallies with Keller sermons and altar calls that I missed? Please let me know.

What he was, of course, was a church builder and an “apologist” for small-o orthodox Christianity, of the Reformed form,” both in preaching and in writing — in books and a host of other forms.


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