Pentecostal-Charismatics

Pat Robertson: Was he an influential religious broadcaster or some kind of 'evangelicalist'?

Pat Robertson: Was he an influential religious broadcaster or some kind of 'evangelicalist'?

I must admit that I have not had the time to dig into the 666 million words or so (that’s an estimate) of news and commentary dedicated to the death of the Rev. Pat Robertson. It’s hard to do much reading when at the wheel of a car for about 1,400 miles (and that was the return trip).

But I do have some thoughts on the passing of the charismatic quote machine that journalists loved, loved, loved to hate (see my 2005 commentary for the Poynter Institute). If Robertson didn’t exist, blue-zip-code pundits would have created him ex nihilo.

Truth be told, I never met the man — even though, technically speaking, I briefly worked for him during a failed 2000 attempt to build a D.C. beltway-based master’s degree journalism program for Regent University.

How to describe Pat Robertson?

First and foremost, he was a media maven and entrepreneur, creating the Christian Broadcasting Network in 1960. Years later, he sold the Family Channel for something like $2 billion. Love it or hate it, the niche-news and commentary DNA of The 700 Club can be found all over the place on cable television.

For journalists, he was mainly a political activist — playing a major role in the creation of the Christian Coalition. In 1988 he made a surprisingly relevant attempt to win the White House, seeking the Republican nomination. He was the son of a U.S. senator and, before jumping into media work, graduated from Yale Law School and New York Theological Seminary.

The media entrepreneur poured millions of dollars into academica, with the creation of Regent University — which only offered graduate-school degrees in subjects that Robertson considered culturally significant (such as law and mass communications).

Robertson was a bestselling author, with the help of numerous ghost writers (including a major gay-rights pioneer).

I would argue that his most significant achievement was helping merge the charismatic movement into mainstream evangelical Protestantism, adding doctrinal elements of Pentecostalism into the rapidly growing world of post-denominational Christianity in America and around the world.

But here is the big journalism question: Why do so many mainstream journalists call Robertson an “evangelist,” even though crusades and public preaching of that style were never part of his life and work?


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Plug-In: Life after Pat Robertson, a religious broadcaster who mixed religion and politics

Plug-In: Life after Pat Robertson, a religious broadcaster who mixed religion and politics

In the headlines, former President Donald Trump has been indicted on federal charges in the classified documents case. A possible prison sentence aside, will the case help or hurt Trump with conservative Christian voters? Stay tuned.

Here in Oklahoma City, where I am, the Oklahoma Sooners celebrate their third straight Women’s College World Series championship. The best team in college sports finished the season by winning a record 53 games in a row.

And yes, Jesus is a big part of their team chemistry, as ESPN’s Hallie Grossman has highlighted.

This is our weekly roundup of the top headlines and best reads in the world of faith. We start with Thursday’s death of Pat Robertson at age 93.

What To Know: The Big Story

‘He obeyed God’: That’s how the Christian Broadcasting Network characterizes Pat Robertson’s life.

More from CBN:

Pat Robertson dedicated his life to preaching the Gospel, helping those in need, and educating the next generation. He founded the Christian Broadcasting Network and numerous organizations, including Operation Blessing, Regent University, the American Center for Law and Justice, and International Family Entertainment Inc. He was also a New York Times best-selling author and host of The 700 Club.

Pat was married to the love of his life and partner in ministry for 67 years, Dede Robertson, until she died in 2022. Together, they had four children, 14 grandchildren, and 24 great-grandchildren.

Religion and politics: Robertson was a “pugnacious conservative whose Christian Broadcasting Network defined televangelism for decades,” the Washington Times’ Mark A. Kellner writes.

“With CBN, ‘The 700 Club,’ Regent, the Christian Coalition, and a run for president, he changed evangelicals’ place in public life,” according to Christianity Today’s Kate Shellnutt.

The 1988 Republican presidential candidate “turned evangelicals into a powerful constituency that helped Republicans capture Congress in 1994,” the New York Times’ Douglas Martin notes.

Robertson’s legacy: The Associated Press’ Ben Finley explains:


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The past is dead? Time for news analysis of America's scrambled Protestant marketplace

The past is dead? Time for news analysis of America's scrambled Protestant marketplace

Starting with a band of Anglicans landing at Jamestown in 1607 and then Pilgrim dissenters at Plymouth in 1620, various forms of Protestantism collectively dominated what became the United States. That broad cultural hegemony persisted through Revolution, Civil War, Catholic immigration, industrialization, globalization, and Protestants’ countless internal squabbles, splits and reunions.

But the Religious Landscape Study from the Pew Research Center tells us the U.S. population is now only 46.6% Protestant. Add to that these newsworthy numbers on Protestantism’s Big Three and we find a scrambled scenario of historic proportions that invites thorough journalistic analysis.

* Last week the Southern Baptist Convention reported its worst-ever decline of 457,371 members from 2021 to 2022 – and of 1.5 million just since 2018 – to the current 13.2 million. The denomination had posted steady gains over a century until recent years. 

Oh, here’s a newsroom calendar alert: That slide should roil the Baptists’ important June 13-14 annual meeting in New Orleans, alongside disputes over female pastors and sexual abuse response, and a competitive presidential election.

* The news service of the United Methodist Church, #3 in size among U.S. Protestant groups, last week posted tabulation of departures since 2019 of 2,996 conservative congregations, roughly one-tenth of the denomination, with more in process. Most are joining the newborn Global Methodist Church. (Update: This week, Methodist conservatives put dropouts at 3,356 congregations, with another 1,000 or more likely.)

* Meanwhile, other Protestants are gaining. In particular, The Religion Guy has proclaimed the following as 2022’s “Story of the Year.” In November, the latest U.S. Religion Census revealed that independent, non-denominational congregations are now decisively the nation’s largest grouping of Protestants, with 21 million adherents in 44,319 congregations. Most are Evangelicals. This relegates the Southern Baptists down to #2 in size.

Pew Research defined three categories, “Evangelical Protestants” at 25.4% of Americans, “Mainline Protestants” at 14.7%, and members of “Historically Black” church groups at 6.5%.


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

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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Define 'evangelical,' 2023: What is a 'reconstructionist,' low-church Protestant?

Define 'evangelical,' 2023: What is a 'reconstructionist,' low-church Protestant?

Yes, here we go again.

Please consider the following an update on “Define ‘evangelical’,” “Define 'evangelical,' yet again,” “Define 'evangelical,' please,” “That same old question for 2016: What is an 'evangelical,' anyway?”, “Once again, journalists need to ponder this question: What is an 'evangelical'?” and lots of other GetReligion offerings on this topic over nearly 20 years.

Yes, this is tough work — but somebody has to do it.

In this case, former GetReligionista Mark Kellner sent me the following Duluth News Tribune story, while expressing “more than a little sympathy “ for the general-assignment reporter who got caught up in the whole “evangelical” self-definition puzzle. Here’s this complex, but vague, headline from the world of mainline Protestant decline:

New generation, denomination takes over Duluth church

Attendees of Westminster Presbyterian Church were dwindling over the years. They decided to gift their church to a younger crowd of Christians focused on inclusivity.

The clue that there are plot twists ahead? That would be the word “inclusivity.”

Think about it: More “inclusive” than a congregation in the liberal mainline Presbyterian Church (ISA)?

Hold that thought. Here is the overture:

DULUTH — It's not every day that an offer for a new church building lands in your lap.

But that's exactly what happened to Pastor Kris Sauter of Neighborhood Church in Cloquet. Sauter received a phone call from the Rev. Carolyn Mowchan, part-time pastor for Westminster Presbyterian Church in western Duluth.

"And I don't usually take cold calls," Sauter said. "But I happened to pick up this time and she was like, 'Hi Kris, I'm Carolyn. How would you like a free building?' And I was like ... 'Hi Carolyn, I'm Kris.' And that led to a really beautiful conversation and series of conversations about taking over the building."


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Black Americans are as likely to be 'nones' as other racial groups (but with a difference)

Black Americans are as likely to be 'nones' as other racial groups (but with a difference)

One of the most difficult things to describe to the average person about religious classification is Black Protestants.

In 2000, a group of scholars created the RELTRAD classification scheme which divided Protestants up into three categories — evangelical, mainline and Black Protestant. Why are Hispanic and white evangelicals grouped together, but Black Protestants get their own separate category? What about Black evangelicals, Black Pentecostals and Black mainline Protestants?

It’s not an easy question answer, really. 

Paul Djupe and I tried to answer that a few years ago in a post at Religion in Public. The answer will not shock GetReligion readers.

In short: politics. But, it’s a bit more than just how they vote on election day. Anyone who has ever worshipped with a predominantly Black congregation knows that it tends to be a bit different than how the United Methodists and lots of other folks do things on a Sunday morning.

I’ve always been fascinated by the role that the church plays in Black culture and was wondering if the rising tide of secularization had been blunted in a bit among African Americans — or if they were seeing the same trend lines as other racial groups.

In 2008, Black Americans were noticeably less likely to report no religious affiliation compared to their White counterparts. About one in five Black Americans were nones in 2008. That’s no different than Hispanics and three points less than White respondents.

But over the last few years, that gap has essentially disappeared.


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'On Religion' column enters year 35: Demons, martyrs, violence and miracles in Colombia

'On Religion' column enters year 35: Demons, martyrs, violence and miracles in Colombia

In one of her first encounters with violence linked to the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), Deann Alford heard, or felt, a bullet pass and slam into a door frame, with shrapnel striking a nearby woman and child.

The future journalist was both shocked and inspired by her contacts with Christians caught in that land's toxic climate of paramilitary warfare, narcotrafficking and kidnappings. She struggled to grasp how someone like pilot Russell Martin Stendal, after years held for ransom, could forgive his kidnappers and then start a missionary effort to convert them.

"Without his months as their hostage, I'm convinced he never could have reached the FARC," wrote Alford, in "Victorious: The Impossible Path to Peace," her blunt memoir about religious freedom in Colombia.

Stendal, she added, "has forgiven all. But I have not. ... In my quarter-century as a journalist, I've written dozens of articles about Colombian guerrilla groups' crimes against Christians, ranging from extortion to murder. Many of these stories regard crimes of the FARC, typically threatening and abducting church workers, missionaries and pastors, extorting them with offers they could not refuse."

Eventually, Alford realized that it wasn't enough to cover Colombia with telephone calls, faxes and Internet connections. She would have to put "boots on the ground" and return. "But I didn't. I was afraid. No, that word is too mild. I was terrified. I let the risk of being killed and kidnapped keep me away."

Alford's bottom line: "I told the Lord I would go anywhere for him but Colombia."

But she returned and, over years of contacts, her fears mixed with frustration. After working in secular newsrooms, as well as Christian publications and wire services, she couldn't understand why more people -- journalists and religious leaders -- could not see the importance of the faith stories unfolding, decade after decade, in Colombia.

This is another example of an important theme woven into my work with this "On Religion" column, with this week marking the start of my 35th year. Simply stated, many journalists do not "get" religion, in terms of grasping the role faith plays in many important events and trends stories.

But Alford was dealing with an even more complex equation. Yes, many editors fail to value religion-news coverage. But it's also true that many Americans -- including people in pews -- do not value coverage of international news. Thus, it's hard to imagine a tougher sell in today's media marketplace than coverage of religion news on the other side of the world.


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Thinking (again) about God and sports: Was the Lord of Hosts cheering for Duke?

Thinking (again) about God and sports: Was the Lord of Hosts cheering for Duke?

What we have here is one of those evergreen feature ideas that surfaces whenever there is a global or national sporting event that inspires religious-level fervor in fans.

Now, it’s March Madness and hoops believers — especially sort-of Methodists — will need to interpret the theological implications of Duke University (think Methodist House of Studies at the divinity school) smashing Oral Roberts University 74-51 in the first round in a tournament game that some folks though might have upset potential. Oh, the late faith healer and televangelist Oral Roberts was also (#HONEST) a United Methodist minister.

So, did God ignore the prayers of evangelical-Pentecostal hoops fanatics and favor those of the theologically hip, fluid, progressive believers at Duke? Does this score mean that God (pronouns are controversial) was pro-Duke?

With that in mind, here is a breezy pre-game think piece on this topic that ran at Religion News Service. It was written by two self-avowed Duke dudes, veteran religion-beat pro Mark Pinsky (frequently plugged here at GetReligion) and media consultant Rusty Wright. Here’s the double-decker headline:

Divine dilemma: Who gets God’s nod in March Madness?

If two Christian schools’ fans pray for victory, which one gets God’s favor?

Yes, there are passages that make this an interesting read — even after a Duke throwdown.


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Florida evangelicals mull Trump vs. DeSantis and, #behold, AP finds some diversity!

Florida evangelicals mull Trump vs. DeSantis and, #behold, AP finds some diversity!

Brace yourselves, readers, because I am about to praise an Associated Press story about evangelical voters, Florida and the looming clash between Gov. Ron DeSantis and former President Donald Trump.

But before we go there, let’s review two GetReligion themes about these topics.

(1) During the primaries before the 2016 presidential election, a strong army of evangelical voters provided strategic support for Trump. But just as many evangelicals voted for other GOP candidates in a very, very large Republican field. In the general election, white evangelicals — faced with a choice between Trump and Democrat Hillary Clinton — voted overwhelmingly for Trump.

This created the “81% of evangelicals just love Trump” myth, which hid some crucial divisions inside the complex and diverse world of American evangelicalism.

(2) Trump reached the White House — quite literally — because of the crucial votes of Latino evangelicals and Pentecostal believers in Florida. The growing diversity in Latino voting remained a secret hidden in clear sight until press coverage linked to the 2020 and 2022 elections, including the rise of DeSantis, who is Catholic.

This brings us to the new AP report: “Trump vs. DeSantis: Florida pastors mull conservative issues.”

While it contains some familiar mainstream press language on moral and cultural issues — battles about parental rights and sex education are about “politics,” as opposed to beliefs or doctrines — it offers information and input from a strong set of insiders and experts. Also, there is a truly shocking summary statement about evangelicals in Florida. Hold that thought. Here is the overture:

DORAL, Florida (AP) — Several of Florida’s conservative faith leaders have the ear of two early frontrunners for the 2024 Republican presidential nomination — former President Donald Trump, who lives in Palm Beach, and Gov. Ron DeSantis.

The clergy’s top political priorities are thus likely to resonate in the national campaign for the religious vote, even as both men’s agendas are still being weighed from the pulpit.

The faith leaders’ key issues include education, especially about gender and sexuality, and immigration, a particularly relevant matter in Florida, which is a destination for hundreds of thousands of newcomers and home to politically powerful Latino diasporas.

Guess what? Latino clergy have a rather complex stance on immigration, one rather similar to the views I have heard from mainstream evangelicals for a long time.


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