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Thinking about 'Uncle Ted' McCarrick's rise and fall: Did Catholic leaders learn anything?

Thinking about 'Uncle Ted' McCarrick's rise and fall: Did Catholic leaders learn anything?

If you have followed the career of fallen cardinal Theodore “Uncle Ted” McCarrick, you know that for a decade or two he was probably the most influential Catholic leader in the United States — especially with journalists (think “Team Ted”) and gatekeepers in the church hierarchy.

With McCarrick, it wasn’t enough to discuss his evil deeds. That was a tragic, hellish story, but it wasn’t the most important story.

The big question was how he managed to land a cardinal’s “red hat” and a throne in Washington, D.C. — even while, behind closed doors, warning lights were flashing and sirens were sounding in America and in the power centers of Rome.

Once journalists have asked that question, they need to ask (a) who promoted McCarrick, (b) who protected him and (c) who were the McCarrick disciples who used their connections with him to climb the ladders of Catholic power?

This brings us to a think piece at The Catholic Herald in England that received some attention in social media and probably deserved more. The headline: “How McCarricks Happen.”

The big idea: Are we talking about a “bad apple” or about multiple “bad barrels” that consistently produce rotten apples? Thus:

Barrels influence apples, sure: how big the barrel, how tightly packed, one’s position within it, who one’s neighbors are, how regularly the apples get mixed, removed, or replenished. But the apples themselves, good or bad, influence both each other, and collectively, the barrel environment as a whole. Furthermore, while barrels come in different shapes, sizes and materials – as whisky connoisseurs know, outwardly indistinguishable single casks can produce subtly different drops – there are significant commonalities between them.

This is precisely why, to leave barrels behind for a bit, when reading exposés of high-profile sexual predators (and we’ve read more over the past several years than is probably mentally healthy) they start to feel a little samey.


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If ever there was a year for news about the quiet Advent season, this was the one

Here at the Mattingly abode in East Tennessee, the Christmas Tree is finally up and soon we will start playing our favorite playlists of Christmas music.

In other words, this past Sunday was the final day of the ancient season that, for Orthodox Christians, is called Nativity Lent. It is the second longest season of repentance and fasting on the Christian calendar, after the Great Lent that leads to Easter, or Pascha in Eastern churches.

In the churches of the West, the season before the 12 days of Christmas is called Advent.

In shopping malls and mass media, of course, the long, glitzy, commercialized season that precedes Christmas is (wait for it) known as “Christmas.” The debate is whether “Christmas” begins for Halloween, after Halloween or after Thanksgiving.

Thus, news consumers don’t see a lot of Advent stories. In 2008, M.Z. Hemingway explained why in a classic (read it all) December 23rd GetReligion post — “The war on Advent.” Here is how that opened:

Of all the seasons of the church year, the first — Advent — is definitely the one that leaves me feeling most out of touch with my fellow Americans. While everyone else is frantically shopping, decorating, partying, those Christians who mark Advent are in a period of preparation and prayerful contemplation. The disciplines of Advent include confession and repentance, prayer, immersion in Scripture, fasting and the singing of the Great O Antiphons and other seasonal hymns. I'm fond of "Lo, He Comes With Clouds Descending," "The Angel Gabriel from Heaven Came," "Savior of the Nations, Come" and many, many more. Advent may, in fact, be the best season of the church year when it comes to hymnody.

The season is marked by millions of Catholics, Lutherans, Episcopalians and many other Christians, but not only do you rarely see any media coverage of it, the media actively promotes the secular version.

Advent ends on Christmas Eve with the beginning of the Christmas season. In America, the end of Advent coincides with the end of the secular Christmas season/shoppingpalooza.

I bring this up for two reasons.

First, I wanted to let readers know that GetReligion will stay open for business during the next 10 days or so, but with fewer posts (unless there is major news to discuss).

Second, another former GetReligion scribe — Sarah Pulliam Bailey — just wrote a fine piece for the Washington Post that ran with this headline: “Instead of raucous holiday parties, some opt for a candlelit Advent season of longing and hope.


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Thinking about Georgia, while looking at some 2020 religion numbers from Ryan Burge

Did you enjoy a day or two away from political Twitter? Me neither.

So let’s move on to Georgia, where voters in greater Atlanta and then the rest of Georgia are going to be hearing the voice of Sen. Chuck Schumer (D-N.Y.) quite a bit in the next few weeks.

All together now, here is that Schumer quote from a celebratory street party in New York City: “Now we take Georgia, then we change America!”

Because of its unique election rules requiring a 50% win in key contests, Georgia currently has two open U.S. Senate seats — which means that Schumer and his colleagues can control the next U.S. Senate (with the tie-breaking vote of soon-to-be Vice President Kamala Harris) by taking both of them. Thus, Georgia is suddenly on everyone’s mind.

That includes folks at the New York Times political desk, who are asking the obvious question: What is causing Georgia to move from the forces of darkness to the world of love and light? Trust me, that’s pretty much the tone of this analysis feature that is not labeled an analysis feature. The overture is spot-on perfect, from a New York-centric point of view:

MARIETTA, Ga. — It took a lifetime for Angie Jones to become a Democrat.

As a young woman, she was the proud daughter of a conservative family active in Republican politics. Ten years ago, after a friend’s son came out as gay, Ms. Jones became an independent, though one who watched Fox News. After the 2016 election, Ms. Jones, a stay-at-home mother in Johns Creek, a pristine wealthy suburb north of Atlanta, became frustrated with her conservative friends defending President Trump through scandal after scandal.

And this year, she voted for Joseph R. Biden Jr., after spending months phone banking, canvassing and organizing for Democratic candidates with a group of suburban women across Atlanta.

“I feel like the Republican Party left me,” said Ms. Jones, 54. “It very much created an existential crisis for me.”

I have family in Georgia and I’ve paid close attention to politics there since the mid-1970s (and almost moved there, from Illinois, in the early 1980s). The bottom line: Georgia may be turning into Illinois, a rural state dominated by a super-city and its suburbs (and the corporations and media therein).

Now, there is a crucial question missing from that Times overture, a question that millions of Georgians — Black and White — would spot instantly. The anecdote doesn’t tell us (a) where this woman goes to church, (b) where her conservative family went to church in the past or (c) where she is now refusing to go to church. If she has changed churches, that would be crucial.


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'Culture wars' are about demographics: Thus, fertility is now a hot-button topic in news

'Culture wars' are about demographics: Thus, fertility is now a hot-button topic in news

It was one of those happy social-media pictures, only this time the pregnant mother was celebrating with her nine children.

Los Angeles comedian and actor Kai Choyce was not amused and tweeted the photo with this comment: "this is environmental terrorism. … In the year 2020 literally no one should have ten kids."

The result was a long chain of sweet or snarky comments, as well as photos of large families. One tweet quoted a Swedish study claiming that having "one fewer child per family" can save an average of 58.6 tons of "CO2-equivalent emissions per year."

Debates about fertility often veer into fights about religion and other ultimate questions, such as the fate of the planet.

Parents with two-plus children are often making a statement about the role of religious faith in their lives. People on the other side of this debate have frequently rejected traditional forms of religion.

"What we call 'culture wars' are wars about demographics, but we have trouble discussing that," said historian Philip Jenkins, who is best known for decades of research into global religious trends, while teaching at Pennsylvania State and Baylor University. His latest book is "Fertility and Faith: The Demographic Revolution and the Transformation of World Religions."

In the 1970s, researchers thought the link between secularization and falling birth rates was a "Protestant thing" in Europe, but then this trend spread into Catholic cultures in Europe and in Latin America, he said. Fertility rates are now collapsing in Iran and some Islamic cultures. Meanwhile, Orthodox Jews and traditional Catholics continue to have larger families than liberal believers in those ancient faiths.

America's 2019 birth rate fell to 1.71, its lowest level in three decades, and well under the replacement rate of 2.1. This took place before the coronavirus pandemic and the Brookings Institute recently predicted a "COVID baby bust" next year, resulting in up to half a million fewer births.

Researchers frequently argue about which comes first -- secularization or declining fertility.

"I'm not sure that really matters because these two trends are so clearly related that they just march along together," said Jenkins.


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New podcast: Yes, it will be big news if COVID-19 closes 20% of America's churches

New podcast: Yes, it will be big news if COVID-19 closes 20% of America's churches

This week’s “Crossroads” podcast — click here to tune that in — starts with a rather obvious question linked to the coronavirus crisis.

The question: Would it be a major news story if 20% or more of America’s religious congregations were forced to shut down during the next 12-18 months?

Clearly that would be a huge development in American life — not just on the religion-news beat. On top of that, it would be a story that would almost certainly unfold in every zip code in America. There would be newsworthy hooks at the local, regional and national levels.

What kinds of stories?

Hold that thought.

The hook for this week’s discussion was my latest “On Religion” column for the Universal syndicate, which grew out of recent comments by David Kinnaman, the leader of the Barna Group — which does polling and research with a variety of churches and denominations.

Here is a key passage:

The question religious leaders are asking, of course, is how many people will return to their pews when "normal" life returns. But it may be several years before high-risk older believers decide it's safe to return, even after vaccines become available. Younger members may keep watching their own local services, switch to high-profile digital flocks elsewhere or do both.

In talks with clients, Kinnaman said he is hearing denominational leaders and clergy say they believe that, in the next year or so, some churches will simply close their doors. Early in the pandemic the percentage of insiders telling Barna researchers they were "highly confident" their churches would survive was "in the high 70s," he said.

"Now it's in the 50s. … Most churches are doing OK, for now. But there's a segment that's really struggling and taking a hit, week after week."

After reviewing several kinds of research -- including patterns in finances and attendance -- Kinnaman sent a shockwave through social-media channels with his recent prediction that one in five churches will close in the next 18 months. In "mainline" churches, he is convinced this number will be one in three, in part because these rapidly aging Protestant denominations have lost millions of members -- some up to 50% -- since the 1960s.

These mainline churches are the “Seven Sisters” of progressive Protestantism. In descending order, by size, that would be the United Methodist Church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), the Episcopal Church, the American Baptist Churches USA, the United Church of Christ and the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).


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New England city votes for polyamory: Does religion have anything to do with this news story?

So what does “conservative” mean in American these days, when journalists are talking about cultural debates in the public square? How about the term “culture wars”?

While there are moral libertarians out there, I would assume that they are rarely called “conservatives.” There are people — think Andrew Sullivan — who are liberal on most social issues (not all), but journalists tend to identify them as conservatives because they defend basic First Amendment rights for all, even “conservatives.”

Too see what that looks like in practice, check out this new Sullivan commentary at NPR:

I believe in life. I believe in treasuring it as a mystery that will never be fully understood, as a sanctity that should never be destroyed, as an invitation to experience now what can only be remembered tomorrow. I believe in its indivisibility, in the intimate connection between the newest bud of spring and the flicker in the eye of a patient near death, between the athlete in his prime and the quadriplegic vet, between the fetus in the womb and the mother who bears another life in her own body.

I believe in liberty. I believe that within every soul lies the capacity to reach for its own good, that within every physical body there endures an unalienable right to be free from coercion.

That sound you hear, on left and right, is people saying: “But what about … ?”

This brings me to a haunted (click here for context) news story that ran the other day in The New York Times with this epic double-decker headline:

A Massachusetts City Decides to Recognize Polyamorous Relationships

The city of Somerville has broadened the definition of domestic partnership to include relationships between three or more adults, expanding access to health care.

This raises all kinds of questions, including this one: “How did these public officials define ‘relationships’?” The lede simply notes that this “left-leaning Massachusetts city expanded its notion of family to include people who are polyamorous, or maintaining consenting relationships with multiple partners.”


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Reading between lines of recent surveys: Is the worst of the Sexual Revolution over?

THE QUESTION:

“Is the Worst of the Sexual Revolution Over?”

THE RELIGION GUY’S ANSWER:

The New York Times ran a feature last month about teens wearing shirts that proclaim “Virginity Rocks.” This fad did not originate with those Christian “True Love Waits” crusaders but a YouTube personality who professed a “tongue in cheek” attitude but said he’s happy if teens advocate abstinence, and some actually do take the slogan seriously.

A dog-eared maxim in our business says “dog bites man” isn’t news but “man bites dog” is. Likewise, this fashion curiosity is newsworthy because so many young Americans think the opposite. And yet we encounter the question above, which was the headline of a recent article for thedispatch.com by David French, who has emerged as among the more interesting weekly commentators on modern morals and religion.

French’s article sidesteps two major aspects of the “sexual revolution,” legalized same-sex relationships, which are broadly accepted but remain central to unresolved religious-liberty disputes, and transgender or “non-binary” causes that are more contested.

His focus instead is on heterosexual principles in the heritage of all great world religions that have been challenged in the U.S. by easy divorce, rising promiscuity and cohabitation, and resulting single motherhood. Hefty majorities found those practices “morally acceptable” in Gallup’s annual values survey for 2019. (Adultery, by contrast, was still judged to be immoral by 89 percent of Americans.)

The headline’s use of “worst” conveys French’s view that the revolution has been unfortunate, and we’ll see more about that below.


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Thinking about these times: Reporter asks cloistered nun for tips on healthy 'social distancing'

There are few things in life that I enjoy more than getting to send out a “Hurrah!” message (that would be “Axios!” in the Orthodox world) to a former journalism student.

So that’s what this weekend’s think piece begins.

Social distancing is, of course, one of the biggest stories in the world, right now.

For some of us, that started almost two weeks ago. For others, the hammer fell this last week. There is going to be another wave of news in one or two weeks if and when we all find out that this New Normal is going to need to last until June or even longer.

So, a former student in the New York City reboot of the journalism program that I was part of for 25 years — the old Washington Journalism Center — came up with a great story idea the other day. Reporter Cassidy Grom served as the channel for a fascinating piece at NJ.com (a page for multiple newspapers) with this headline: “I’m a nun and I’ve been social distancing for 29 years. Here are tips for staying home amid coronavirus fears.

The voice here is Sister Mary Catherine Perry of the Monastery of Our Lady of the Rosary, a cloistered Dominican sister. She talked to Grom, who put this into an op-ed page feature that, frankly, contains some interesting news-related content. Here is the overture:

For the past 29 years, I’ve chosen to practice social distancing.

Of course, I and the 17 other nuns I live with don’t call it that.

We are formally called cloistered sisters, meaning we never leave our walled-off monastery in Summit except for doctors’ visits or perhaps shopping for a specific item. We don’t go to parties or weddings or out to eat with friends. I often go months without leaving our 8-acre home.

The coronavirus is forcing many people in New Jersey and across the world to stay home, limit outside contact — and in a way, start living life like cloistered nuns.


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'Soothing sounds meet church liturgy' -- AP needed more facts about 'sound bath' prayers

There are few liturgical rites used in the global Anglican Communion that are more beautiful then the service known as “Compline,” “Vespers,” “Evensong” or simply “Evening Prayer.” Similar services are common in Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism.

The blending of music, prayers and biblical texts in the Compline rites at Magdalen College, Oxford, are world famous. The historic Trinity Episcopal Church on Wall Street offers a variety of Evening Prayer rites, including its well-known Sunday evening “Compline by Candlelight” service.

Worshipers who attend these rites are used to hearing texts such as this one from Psalm 74: “Yours is the day, O God, yours also the night; you established the moon and the sun. You fixed all the boundaries of the
earth; you made both summer and winter.” Psalm 141 includes this poetic image: “Let my prayer be set forth in your sight as incense, the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice."

As believers move from the trials of daily life into the evening hours, these rites almost always include some kind of confession of sins, such as this “Book of Common Prayer” text:

“Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.”

According to a long, fascinating Associated Press report — which combines text and video — something rather different is taking place in an Episcopal sanctuary in Park Slope, one of New York City’s trendy neighborhoods.

Readers are given quite a bit of information about some of the contents of an evening prayer rite at this parish. At the same, readers learn next to nothing — other than a few strategic hints — about what has been edited out of this liturgy or added to it. Both halves of that equation could be news. Let’s start with the overture:

NEW YORK (AP) — Meditation and immersion in soothing sounds meet church liturgy at All Saints Episcopal Church in Brooklyn. The combination takes on stress — and self-examination. Welcome to sound bath Evensong.

The first time Alexis Dixon attended a sound bath Evensong at the church, she cried.


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