Kellerism

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Why mainstream newsrooms can't be bothered to cover USCCB church vandalism report

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Why mainstream newsrooms can't be bothered to cover USCCB church vandalism report

Abortion debates continue to dominate American politics. A Texas law banning most abortions after six weeks of pregnancy went into effect just three weeks ago, something that resulted in widespread national news coverage, with many of the stories showing familiar media-bias patterns.

Despite the 1973 Supreme Court decision that made abortion legal, this law makes attaining an abortion in Texas among the most restrictive in the country after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 5-4 on Sept. 2 not to block it. This unleashed debate and further political animus between Democrats and Republicans as arguments over abortion in this country now stretch into a fifth decade.

The fallout from all this may have increased animosity against the Catholic church. The church’s stand — ancient and modern — against abortion has placed it at the forefront of this cause, along with many other traditional Christian denominations and organizations.

Some of this animosity has led to vandalism against U.S. churches. A Catholic church in Colorado was vandalized with graffiti showing support for legalized abortion days after the Supreme Court decision. This is how The Christian Post recently reported the story. This is long, but essential:

St. Louis Catholic Church, located in the Boulder suburb of Louisville, became the target of vandalism from abortion activists over the weekend. The doors to the church were spray-painted with the declaration “My body, My choice,” a common refrain among pro-choice activists. Church members discovered the graffiti when they gathered for worship on Sunday morning.

In addition to spraying the phrase “My body, my choice” on the church's doors, vandals targeted a marker on the property that read “Respect Life,” replacing the word “Life” with the phrase “Bodily Autonomy.” Additionally, the sign at the front of the church was defaced with the phrase “bans off our bodies.”

In a Facebook post on Monday, the Louisville Police Department noted that a surveillance camera recorded three individuals on the church property at 1:30 a.m. local time Sunday and asked the public for help with identifying them.

The Christian Post, as the name states, is a niche news source. The question here — once again — is why vandalism cases of this kind receive so little attention in the mainstream press.


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Francis tacks again: Did press catch pope's whole message on abortion and Eucharist?

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Francis tacks again: Did press catch pope's whole message on abortion and Eucharist?

How does a ship’s captain sail against a headwind?

The maneuver is called “tacking” and it consists of steering the ship back and forth, at roughly 45 degree angles across the chosen course. The question — with all the left and right turns — is this: What is the course that runs through the middle? Where is the captain trying to go?

It’s impossible to figure that out by studying only the turns to the left or to the right. Dare I say that this task is even more difficult if the captain of the ship is a modern Jesuit?

So what was the course Pope Francis was trying to sail the other day during his in-flight Shepherd One press conference about abortion, Communion and the pastoral needs of Catholics (including, perhaps, powerful politicians)? In the mainstream press, the big turns were all to the left, with the pope warning U.S. bishops not to meddle in the state of President Joe Biden’s soul. Readers had to turn to Catholic publications to find any hint that Pope Francis was, perhaps, seeking a middle course.

This was best seen in the piece that ran in the “Politics Section” (#DUH) of the New York Times. The headline stated the basics:

Pope Weighs In on Calls to Deny Communion to Biden Over Abortion

“What must the pastor do?” Francis said when a reporter asked him about the subject. “Be a pastor, don’t go condemning.”

Everything readers needed to know, from the doctrinal point of view of the Times, was right up top:

ROME — Pope Francis weighed in on Wednesday on a debate roiling the Roman Catholic Church in the United States, where conservative bishops are pushing for guidelines that would deny communion to politicians, like President Biden, who support abortion rights.

“I have never refused the eucharist to anyone,” Francis said, though he added that he did not know of any instance when such a politician had come to him for communion.

Later, there was this:

“What must the pastor do?” he asked. “Be a pastor, don’t go condemning. Be a pastor, because he is a pastor also for the excommunicated.”


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New podcast: Did a religious search help shape Norm Macdonald's haunting humor?

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New podcast: Did a religious search help shape Norm Macdonald's haunting humor?

While it may sound strange, I would argue that there are theological “ghosts” hiding inside the great comic Norm Macdonald’s most famous joke. This was the “moth” story, of course.

Right. This joke wasn’t a Saturday Night Live shot at O.J. Simpson or Bill Clinton. It was a long, twisting, bizarre story about a nihilistic moth who was afraid of eternity. It was the kind of joke that fit with the summary of Macdonald’s life and work that opened this Ricochet tribute by Jon Gabriel: “Norm Macdonald — Dostoyevsky in Front of a Red Brick Wall.”

The smartest comedians portray themselves as the dumbest; Norm Macdonald was the best at this sleight of hand. He graduated high school at 14, read Russian literature in his downtime, and had long philosophical discussions with clergy. … Macdonald was a student of human nature first, comedy second.

Macdonald was also a self-identified Christian, yet he made it clear that he didn’t consider himself a very good one.

The question raised during this week’s “Crossroads” episode (click here to tune that in) was whether news consumers had any right to expect journalists to mention that reality in their obits of this brilliant, courageous, edgy, mysterious comedian.

The more I read about him — following some really simple online searches — the more I hoped that someone would spot the religion “ghost” in his death-and-virtue haunted work. It also, at least to me, became obvious that many of his spiritual and religious questions were linked to his secret 10-year battle with the cancer that took his life. Cue up these two YouTube clips (here and here).

So this brings us to a crucial text: The actual “moth story” as it unfolded on on Conan.

Read carefully and keep thinking — Russian literature and maybe even a glimpse of a sacred icon.

Yes, I know that this is long. That’s the point:


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Bishop is transgender, but where's the reporting on Megan Rohrer as a 'Lutheran'?

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Bishop is transgender, but where's the reporting on Megan Rohrer as a 'Lutheran'?

The news of the recent installation of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America’s first transgender bishop has been leading me to wonder what makes a culture Lutheran and what impact Lutherans have on the cultures of the countries they live in.

Here’s the context. For the past week, I’ve been traveling about Iceland and Greenland, two countries where the Lutheran Church put down roots centuries ago as the national church. In fact, 2021 marks the 300th year of Christianity being introduced to Greenland via the Danish missionary Hans Egede.

Oddly, Greenland chose not to celebrate the anniversary in July, which is when Egede came in 1721.

Iceland has notorious rates of church non-attendance — in one of the world’s seven officially Lutheran countries, Iceland’s adherence rate may be the lowest at 10 percent. (One of the fastest-growing groups in that Nordic country are the pagans, a phenomenon about which I’ll be reporting on next week for my new gig at Newsweek).

I am no expert on religion in Greenland, but I do know this inaccurate piece put out in 2019 by the World Council of Churches is quite wrong in saying there’s only two churches in Nuuk, the country’s capital. Maybe there are only two Lutheran churches, but I stumbled upon a very lively Pentecostal assembly in the center of town during the Sunday morning I was there.

Which brings me to there being a Lutheran culture in these two countries, church attendance rates notwithstanding. There is a prominent church in the center of each Greenlandic town of any size. Confirmation day remains a big deal for teen-agers there. The Icelanders have made their futuristic looking churches a matter of national pride, whether or not people go inside them and even though some media call the church “irrelevant.”

And being that Greenland has some of the world’s highest suicide rates, does that make the church there is “irrelevant” as well? Hard to say. But these are countries where Lutheranism is part of the air they breathe.

Here in the USA, the ELCA is slated for statistical oblivion by the 2040s. No joke, read about it here. In view of how many of the world’s growing denominations are the ones that trend conservative, the denomination’s 2009 vote to allow same-sex marriages among its clergy and, now, non-gender-specific bishops is rather symbolic. Lutheran conservatives would call it a death wish.


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New podcast: Where is the elite news coverage of tensions between Pelosi and her bishop?

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New podcast: Where is the elite news coverage of tensions between Pelosi and her bishop?

Here is a political science question for you, but it’s relevant to an important religion-beat story.

The vice president of the United States is No. 2, in terms of the presidential line of succession, just ahead of the Speaker of the House of Representatives. But in terms of real, day-by-day power, who has more clout in America’s system of government, the vice president or the speaker?

If you have lived and worked on Capitol Hill (as I did for a decade or more), I think you would agree the speaker has more dollars-and-cents clout, as opposed to the largely symbolic “one heartbeat away” status given to the vice president.

With that in mind, let’s turn to an important news story that ran in July at Crux, under this headline: “SF Archbishop says Pelosi can’t call herself a ‘devout Catholic’.” This story was at the heart of the discussion during this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). Here is the overture of that piece:

NEW YORK – Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone of San Francisco, the home archdiocese of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, has insisted that “devout Catholics” can’t support abortion, just after Pelosi had described herself in precisely those terms.

“Let me repeat: No one can claim to be a devout Catholic and condone the killing of innocent human life, let alone have the government pay for it,” Cordileone said in a statement. “The right to life is a fundamental — the most fundamental ­— human right, and Catholics do not oppose fundamental human rights.”

Hours earlier, at her weekly press conference, Pelosi stated her support for repealing the Hyde Amendment, which prohibits federal funding of abortion, “because it’s an issue of health for many women in America,” and she also emphasized her Catholic faith.

“As a devout Catholic and mother of five in six years, I feel that God has blessed my husband and me with our beautiful family,” Pelosi said. “But it’s not up to me to dictate that’s what other people should do, and it’s an issue of fairness and justice for poor women in our country.”

This leads us to that op-ed by Cordileone that ran the other day at The Washington Post, with this headline: “Our duty to challenge Catholic politicians who support abortion rights.”

Here is the top of that piece. Read carefully and look for an important term that is showing up in more and more statements by some, repeat “some,” U.S. Catholic bishops:


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Mexico's high court backs abortion rights: Who did the Washington Post choose to interview?

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Mexico's high court backs abortion rights: Who did the Washington Post choose to interview?

The trend started a decade ago, or even earlier, about the time when social media took over and many elite newsrooms began caring less about seeking out qualified, informed voices on both sides of hot stories.

The result was a kind of fail-safe method for spotting media bias, especially with stories located at the intersection of politics, religion and the cultural changes, especially those linked to the Sexual Revolution.

First, readers can print a copy of the story in question and then, with a highlighter pen, mark quotes from people who appear to have been interviewed by the reporters — the sources whose voices provide the framing anecdotes and quotations that provide crucial facts and material that interpret the facts.

Then, with a second highlighter, mark the quotes from experts, activists and citizens on the other side of the issue. The key question: How many of these quotes came from actual interviews and how many were taken from online press releases and statements?

Compare and contrast. The big question: What sources were shown respect — with personal interviews — and which sources were demoted to PR release status? (Personal comment: As a columnist, I have found that quoting personal weblogs — Twitter as well — can offer a kind of neutral ground, with more information and authentic “voices” than mere press releases.)

In my experience, 99% of the time the people who are quoted from interviews represent the viewpoints that are favored and respected by the journalists who produced the story. With that in mind, let’s look at the sourcing in an international-desk story that ran in The Washington Post with this headline: “Mexico decriminalizes abortion, a dramatic step in world’s second-biggest Catholic country.”

The Catholic angle is crucial, of course. Who would be interviewed? Activists in ministries to pregnant women? Canon lawyers? Perhaps a Catholic priest or historian who knows why “life” issues are so crucial in the church’s theology? I will also ask: Was anyone from the religion-desk allowed input into the sourcing?

Let’s start with the overture:

MEXICO CITY — Mexico’s supreme court voted Tuesday to decriminalize abortion, a striking step in a country with one of the world’s largest Catholic populations and a decision that contrasts with tighter restrictions introduced across the border in Texas.


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In the news media storm about the Texas abortion bill: Outrage -- 1, objectivity -- 0

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In the news media storm about the Texas abortion bill: Outrage -- 1, objectivity -- 0

If I had to sum up last week’s media maelstrom on Texas’ new abortion regulations, it’s this: 95 percent of the quotes was from those who opposed it. Maybe 5 percent was from those who favored it. And of that 5 percent, how many of them were inserted near the top of the piece rather than strung together near the end?

We’re talking about the Texas Heartbeat Act, aka S.B. 8, which bans abortions after a fetal heartbeat can be detected (usually around six weeks). Individuals who learn of violations can sue the clinics involved and anyone who helps women get abortions.

Which could your friendly Uber or Lyft driver, which is why both companies, according to CNBC, have offered to cover legal fees for any driver caught transporting a woman to a clinic.

Probably the most thoughtful dispatch was Emma Green’s piece in The Atlantic. It was a Q&A more than an essay, but at least it was an interview with the Other Side, which has been lambasted everywhere else for introducing a real-life Handmaid’s Tale situation into the Lone Star state. The lead sentence began:

Sometimes, the Supreme Court does the most when it does nothing. Last night, the justices denied an emergency petition by abortion providers in Texas seeking to block S.B. 8, a law banning pregnancy terminations after roughly six weeks’ gestation.

A 5–4 majority of the justices argued that they had no power to stop the law from going into effect, since none of the citizens who are now empowered under the law to sue abortion clinics for providing the procedure has yet attempted to do so.

Hold that thought. What’s new in Texas is something called “private enforcement,” by which any citizen -– and I mean anyone –- can report -– or sue -– someone trying to sneak an abortion past them. It’s a stunning legal strategy that evades the lawsuits that groups like Planned Parenthood use to quash their opponents.

Some on the pro-life side, like conservative pundit David French, aren’t happy with it at all, feeling that it’s bad law that will end up biting pro-lifers in the end. He is not the only abortion opponent who feels this way but there was zero reporting out there on the mixed feelings in his camp. Back to The Atlantic:

Legal challenges likely lie ahead. But abortion opponents see this as a victory, however temporary. For now, at least, abortion clinics in Texas are largely suspending their work and abiding by the ban.

The article continues as an interview with John Seago, the legislative director of Texas Right to Life who, more than anyone, contributed to the success of this law. Right away, Green jumped to the crux of the law; people reporting on other people. His answer:

There are two main motivations. The first one is lawless district attorneys that the pro-life movement has dealt with for years. In October, district attorneys from around the country publicly signed a letter saying they will not enforce pro-life laws. They said that even if Roe v. Wade is overturned, they are not going to use resources holding the abortion industry to account. That shows that the best way to get a pro-life policy into effect is not by imposing criminal penalties, but civil liability.

The second is that the pro-life movement is extremely frustrated with activist judges at the district level who are not doing their job to adjudicate conflicts between parties, but who in fact go out of their way to score ideological points—blocking pro-life laws because they think they violate the Constitution or pose undue burdens.

For anyone wishing to understand why Texans went to this “private enforcement” stratagem is because they’ve tried everything else for the 48 years that Roe v. Wade has been in effect. And with a legal system set against them no matter what they do, it was time to come up with something else. And they did.


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Was this a story? Why? Mississippi governor talks about heaven and Southern anti-vax trends

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Was this a story? Why? Mississippi governor talks about heaven and Southern anti-vax trends

Here’s a complex question that is worthy of serious research by journalists: Are people who believe in heaven less likely to feel the need to get vaccinated against COVID-19?

Now, lots of people believe in eternal life and the vast majority of them believe — no matter what their level of faith or practice — that they are headed straight to heaven when they die. Belief in hell? That’s another matter.

Ah. But who, according to most media stereotypes, are the folks who REALLY believe in heaven? In particular, what kind of person would let that belief affect their actions in the real world (which means issues of political policy and public health)?

Obviously, we’re talking about those dang White evangelical Protestants. Right?

That brings us to a recent headline at The Daily Memphian (“the primary daily online publication for intelligent, in-depth journalism in the Memphis community”) that caught the eye of some GetReligion readers. The emails I received made it clear that some people were mad about this story for different reasons. Hold that thought.

First, the headline: “Miss. Gov.: South’s response to COVID impacted by belief in ‘eternal life’.” Then, here is the overture:

Mississippi Gov. Tate Reeves believes religion has a lot to do with the region’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic.

During a … fundraiser at the Eads home of Shelby County Election Commission Chairman Brent Taylor, Reeves spoke to several dozen Republicans.

“I’m often asked by some of my friends on the other side of the aisle about COVID … and why does it seem like folks in Mississippi and maybe in the Mid-South are a little less scared, shall we say,” Reeves said.

“When you believe in eternal life — when you believe that living on this earth is but a blip on the screen, then you don’t have to be so scared of things,” he said, but added: “Now, God also tells us to take necessary precautions. And we all have opportunities and abilities to do that and we should all do that.


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Rabbit hole warning for journalists: When is a 'Catholic priest' not a 'Catholic priest'?

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Rabbit hole warning for journalists: When is a 'Catholic priest' not a 'Catholic priest'?

There are few religion-beat rabbit holes deeper and more twisted than the world of alternative and splinter Catholic churches and the bishops and priests who lead them.

Be careful out there, folks. Long ago, I spent days chasing the “apostolic succession” claims of a U.S. Postal Service carrier in a Denver suburb who was a mail-order archbishop in one of the hundreds of “Old Catholic” flocks linked to various schisms after Vatican I or II. Some alternative Catholic of these flocks are conservative and some are liberal. Some have actual parishes. To tip your toe into these troubled waters, click here.

Religion-beat professionals are aware that not all people — men and women — who say they are Catholic priests are actually Roman Catholic priests. As Mollie “GetReligionista emerita” Hemingway said more than a decade ago, just because someone says that he or she plays shortstop for the New York Yankees doesn’t mean that this claim is true. Someone in the House of Steinbrenner gets to make that call.

I say this because of the small, but educational, waves of social-media chatter the other day about the testimony of Father Gabriel Lavery at an Ohio legislature hearing linked to a bill that would prohibit vaccine mandates.

Eyebrows were raised when Lavery, during a discussion of the current pope’s support for COVID-19 vaccines, said that he doesn’t recognize Pope Francis as pope because “you have to be a Catholic to be the pope.”

There’s a sound bite for you. As scribes at The Pillar noted:

In another clip, the priest said of Francis that “there are many clergy, bishops around the world who have simply have looked at the obvious, that his teachings on many things contradict Catholic teaching, and it’s a simple basic principle of Catholic theology — you can’t be the head of the Church if you don’t profess the Catholic faith.”

The priest’s remarks have attracted attention, and have been covered in some press reports with little mention of his ecclesiastical status. In some accounts, he has been identified as a parish pastor.

As I noted earlier, religion-beat professionals know to ask questions about clergy folks of this kind — who play essential roles, for example, in the history of ordination claims in the the Womenpriests, WomenPriests or Women Priests movement. General-assignment reporters covering these events often quote what the activists are saying about their credentials and that is that.


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