Scriptures

, , , , , , , , , , , ,

Baylor wins a key victory (somehow or another) defending its stand (sort of) on sexuality

, , , , , , , , , , , ,
Baylor wins a key victory (somehow or another) defending its stand (sort of) on sexuality

This has been true for decades: Journalists just love headlines that include Baylor University and anything having to do with sex.

More than two decades ago, it was Baylor coeds posing for Playboy. Two decades before that, it was student journalists getting fired for disagreeing with a Baylor policy that students shouldn’t pose for Playboy. Ironically, that controversy was an echo of earlier controversies about student journalists (including moi) publishing stories about sexual assaults near campus (and other hot topics).

The big idea is that sin exists at Jerusalem on the Brazos and that Baylor leaders are naive in thinking that they can do anything about that. Trust me: Some of these headlines are more important than others. Now we have this double-decker headline from Religion News Service:

Baylor University wins exemption from Title IX’s sexual harassment provisions

The private Baptist school argued discrimination complaints made by LGBTQ students were ‘inconsistent’ with the university’s religious values

As always, there are two questions that journalists need to answer when covering this fight and both of them involve religious doctrines that define this private academic community.

Question 1: Are Baylor’s “beliefs” backed by legal ties to a specific denomination and its teachings?

Question 2: Are Baylor students required to sign a “doctrinal covenant” in which they agree to support this private school’s “student code" or, at the very least, not to publicly oppose it?

The answer to both: Maybe, maybe not. Clarity on both of these questions is crucial to the Baylor left (and that is a real thing), the Baylor establishment and to Baylor’s conservative critics. It would help if journalists at RNS and other mainstream news outlets asked those questions and published the results. It’s no surprise that the best information can be found in niche Baptist-news sources.

Meanwhile, here is the RNS overture, atop a story that does not include a single sentence of material drawn from interviews with experts backing Baylor’s point of view.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , ,

Complicated question in the news: What do Jews believe about the death penalty?

, , , , , ,
Complicated question in the news: What do Jews believe about the death penalty?

QUESTION:

What do Jews believe about the death penalty?

THE RELIGION GUY’S ANSWER:

There was relief last week when a unanimous Pittsburgh jury approved the death penalty for the man (not to be dignified here with a name) who in 2018 massacred 11 worshipers at the Tree of Life Congregation, in the deadliest act of anti-Jewish violence in U.S. history.

There’s a strong aversion to capital punishment in the teaching across the branches of Judaism but, as we’ll see, this is not absolute, and Judaism’s biblical and textual tradition on this is complex.

There were mixed feelings in Pittsburgh’s historically close-knit Jewish community. The Jewish Telegraphic Agency reported that capital punishment “was the preference of some but not all of the victim’ families” and “some local Jews openly opposed” execution. The New Light Congregation, which also worships in the Tree of Life building, said “many of our members prefer that the shooter spend the rest of his life in prison” and question feelings of “vengeance or revenge against him.”

As appeals grind away, presumably for years, the antisemitic murderer will join the 41 inmates awaiting execution at the federal prison system’s death row or “Special Confinement Unit” in Terre Haute, Indiana, which was established when Congress reinstated the federal death penalty in 1988.

Meanwhile, The Associated Press says the morality and practicality of capital punishment could become a big issue in the 2024 U.S. presidential campaign for the first time since 1988. Republican front-runners Donald Trump and Ron DeSantis are both making execution central to their anti-crime messages.

And the opposite. Liberal Democrats are vexed that President Joe Biden pledged in 2020 to abolish the death penalty in federal statutes but has not done so. However, his Department of Justice currently has a moratorium in place while it conducts a thorough examination of problems with methods of killing and racial unfairness in judicial application.

Consideration of Jewish belief begins at the beginning.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Podcast: David Brooks is still trying to describe the 'flexidoxy' DNA in American elites

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Podcast: David Brooks is still trying to describe the 'flexidoxy' DNA in American elites

People who spend years riding commuter trains — Baltimore to Washington, D.C., for me — learn that there are community rules. For example: Don’t crack up laughing and make a lot of noise.

I violated that written law several times while reading a snarky, hilarious 2000 book by David Brooks called, “Bobos In Paradise: The New Upper Class and How They Got There.” The term “Bobo” was short for “Bourgeois Bohemians.”

But what is a religion writer supposed to do while reading its “spirituality” chapter, which ended with a vision of "Bobo Heaven.” Brooks offers a tweedy angel of death sentencing an urban lawyer to spend eternity in her chic, “green” summer house, with National Public Radio on every channel. Heaven or hell?

Readers who have been online lately will know where this is going, because of the multi-media firestorm ignited by his New York Times column: “On Anti-Trumpers and the Modern Meritocracy.” That Brooks essay provided the hook for this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). Here’s a sample:

The meritocracy isn’t only a system of exclusion; it’s an ethos. During his presidency, Barack Obama used the word “smart” in the context of his policies over 900 times. The implication was that anybody who disagreed with his policies (and perhaps didn’t go to Harvard Law) must be stupid.

Over the last decades, we’ve taken over whole professions and locked everybody else out. When I began my journalism career in Chicago in the 1980s, there were still some old crusty working-class guys around the newsroom. Now we’re not only a college-dominated profession; we’re an elite-college-dominated profession. Only 0.8 percent of college students graduate from the super-elite 12 schools (the Ivy League colleges, plus Stanford, M.I.T., Duke and the University of Chicago). A 2018 study found that more than 50 percent of the staff writers at the beloved New York Times and The Wall Street Journal attended one of the 29 most elite universities in the nation.

Now, let’s leave Orange Man Bad out of this. I’d like to focus on the fact that Brooks has been writing about this phenomenon for several decades now.

As you would expect, I appreciated that Brooks dared to mention the ice-blue trends in elite journalism. I started paying attention to that in the late 1970s (hold that thought). However, I have to admit that I wondered why Brooks defined his meritocracy in terms of class (correct), zip codes (correct), resume credentials (correct), but — in this case — ignored the obvious religion themes in this drama.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , , , , , , ,

When covering women's ordination news, don't ignore the Protestant little guys  

, , , , , , , , , , ,
When covering women's ordination news, don't ignore the Protestant little guys  

One of 2023’s major religion-news events was the decision by the Southern Baptist Convention, by far America’s largest Protestant denomination, to expel two congregations and to exclude any others that ordain women to be “any kind of pastor,” thus barring assistants, educators, chaplains and ordained missionaries as well as lead pastors.

The 2000 rewrite of the SBC’s crucial Baptist Faith and Message document had stated somewhat ambiguously that “the office of pastor is limited to men.” Debate continues to swirl on a new constitutional amendment, which needs second and final approval at next June’s meeting.

That’s a big story. Journalists tend to ignore smaller denominations that also provide news potential on these issues along the following lines.

Many conservative evangelicals are “egalitarians” who favor women clergy and lay office-holders, but an interesting example on the opposite “complementarian” side is the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA),  based in Lawrenceville, Georgia. As it happened, the PCA General Assembly was discussing the role of women in ministry during meetings in Memphis the same week as the Baptists’ New Orleans showdown.

The PCA is a story in and of itself.

This denomination began in 1973 as 41,000 southern Presbyterians broke from a more liberal “mainline” church and then managed notable northern outreach. While the SBC slowly shrinks, as of this year’s 50th anniversary the PCA boasted nearly 400,000 members in 2,000 congregations, 600 career missionaries, annual proceeds exceeding $1 billion and a new church opening on average every two weeks. The career and then death of its well-known New York City Pastor Timothy Keller earned MSM coverage.

From the beginning, the PCA has opposed female clergy. Its Book of Church Order states regarding clergy, lay elders, and lay deacons that “in accord with Scripture, these offices are open to men only.” But there’s continual agitation. Some prominent PCA congregations formally “commission” female deaconesses or deacon “assistants” (.pdf here) who help the fully “ordained” deacons.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Russell Moore on Christians who are switching churches or hitting exit doors -- period

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Russell Moore on Christians who are switching churches or hitting exit doors -- period

“Book of the Month” is certainly an appropriate label for Russell Moore’s “Losing Our Religion: An Altar Call for Evangelical America,” released July 25 by Sentinel. I am borrowing that label, of course, from that venerable subscription club and corporate partner during The Guy’s days working with the old Time Inc.

The bottom line: Pretty much every religious professional will want to take a look at what this central figure has to say.

Ditto for journalists who write about religion.

Moore is, yes, controversial and opinionated but also thoughtful and knowledgeable, so it’s worth absorbing his latest plea for a thorough overhaul of this sprawling and complex Protestant movement (with some pertinence for Catholics, too).

This might be the right time for religion-beat pros to offer yet another broad look at evangelical pitfalls and prospects. The Twitter (er, X) traffic on this new Moore book will continue to be lively.

There’s a possible peg when Moore chats with Beth Moore (no relation), another prominent exile from the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), in Houston on August 9, which will be live-streamed (details at www.russellmoore.com).

Moore famously opposed Donald Trump’s 2016 candidacy on moral grounds when many other evangelical thinkers carefully kept their qualms private. His 2020 private admonition to executives of the SBC, which later leaked, depicted years of “the most vicious guerilla tactics” against him, especially his activism on issues linked to sexual abuse cases and cover-ups and mishandled race relations. He’s now one of seven ministers at Immanuel Church in Nashville, a congregation with ties to evangelicals in several denominations (including Anglicanism) and part of the Acts 29 network (www.acts29.com).


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , , , ,

Want a tough, newsy 'theodicy' question? 'If God is good, why do animals suffer?'

, , , , , , , ,
Want a tough, newsy 'theodicy' question? 'If God is good, why do animals suffer?'

QUESTION:

If God is good, why do animals suffer?”

THE RELIGION GUY’S ANSWER:

This question was the sub-headline for a recent cover story in Christianity Today magazine (“Why Does Creation Groan?”) by Calvin University theologian John R. Schneider. It’s a twist  on the age-old problem defined as follows by the eminent Christian intellectual C.S. Lewis in his best-selling classic “The Problem of Pain”:

“If God were good, He would wish to make His creatures perfectly happy, and if God were almighty He would be able to do what He wished. But the creatures are not happy. Therefore God lacks either goodness, or power, or both.”

Early in the COVID-19 scourge, The Religion Guy attempted to scan the current discussions in a field known technically as “theodicy” — as here. The issue is as ancient as the Bible’s poetic masterpiece from thousands of years ago, the Book of Job, which provides no snappy formulas to answer these mysteries.

Regarding humanity and its problems, theologians have blamed evils on humans’ free will that necessarily allows dire events to occur, and/or on Satan and demonic minions. However, the scale and depth of, for instance, the mass extermination of the Nazi Holocaust  raised the persistent but unanswerable question in both Jewish and Christian circles of why God did not miraculously intervene.

Writing just prior to that and other World War II atrocities, and his own battle wounds from World War I, Lewis advised us to be careful in thinking about God as “all-powerful” because He obviously cannot do things that by their nature are impossible to do. Along similar lines, leading contemporary philosopher Alvin Plantinga at the University of Notre Dame proposed that we cannot logically conceive of any possible universe where the Creator allows human free will to operate and at the same time our existence lacks all sin and consequently all suffering.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Mainline Protestant evolution rolls on: The Sparkle Creed creates some online heat

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Mainline Protestant evolution rolls on: The Sparkle Creed creates some online heat

While wrestling with heresies in the Roman world, 2nd-century Christians began combining crucial doctrines into creeds to help converts prepare for baptism.

Soon, the Apostles' Creed emerged as a cornerstone of Western Christianity, with short, ringing phrases that millions recite to this day.

This is not the stuff of viral videos: "I believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; he descended into hell; on the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty; from there he will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting."

However, the Edina Community Lutheran Church in Minneapolis created a stir recently by posting part of a Pride Month service that featured a radically modernized take on the faith passed down through the ages — the Sparkle Creed.

"I believe in the non-binary God whose pronouns are plural. I believe in Jesus Christ, their child, who wore a fabulous tunic and had two dads and saw everyone as a sibling-child of God. I believe in the rainbow Spirit, who shatters our image of one white light and refracts it into a rainbow of gorgeous diversity," affirmed the congregation, which -- in the video -- appears to consist primarily of aging Baby Boomers.

"I believe in the church of everyday saints as numerous, creative and resilient as patches on the AIDS quilt, whose feet are grounded in mud and whose eyes gaze at the stars in wonder. I believe in the call to each of us that love is love is love, so beloved, let us love. I believe, glorious God. Help my unbelief."

Online commentary noted that this text was not created by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, a mainline Protestant flock that now ordains LGBTQ pastors living in committed relationships.

The Sparkle Creed was circulated in 2021 by the Rev. Rachel Small-Stokes of Immanuel United Church of Christ in Louisville, Kentucky. A "Shower of Stoles" website biography notes that she was raised United Methodist, served as a missionary in that denomination and trained for the ministry. However, she switched to the United Church of Christ -- which began ordaining gay ministers in 1972 -- before being ordained in 2009 and marrying her lesbian partner in 2012.

On Facebook, she explained that this creed began with a computer glitch.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Podcast: WPost finds a 'good' religion vs. 'bad' religion sermon in small-town Georgia

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Podcast: WPost finds a 'good' religion vs. 'bad' religion sermon in small-town Georgia

If you grew up in the Bible Belt or in the heavily churched Midwest, you know that a good sermon is supposed to contain (all together now) “three points and a poem.”

This week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in) focused on a Washington Post sermon that ran with this headline: “A small-town Georgia preacher fills pews by leaving no one out.”

It’s possible that the author of this highly doctrinal news story understood the basics of Southern preaching. Hold that thought, because we will return to it. But first: The Big Idea of this sermon is stated in absolute terms — there is “good” religion and there is “bad” religion. Let they who have ears, let them hear (or whatever the new language is in this case).

I. It is always appropriate to open a sermon with a conversion story that illustrates the preacher’s Big Idea. This grab-a-tissue Washington Post feature could not be more explicit about that:

HARTWELL, Ga. — At night, the worn sign looks like a beacon in the darkness out front of the modest, red-brick Mt. Hebron Baptist Church.

The tired, it reads. The poor. And huddled masses. Welcome home.

In this small town in the rural northeast corner of Georgia, it’s the kind of message that assures Teri Massey she is loved for being who she is — a message 180 degrees from the one she heard in the Baptist church where she spent her teens into her 40s, where her grandfather, father and brother all held leadership positions.

When Massey came out in 2004, shortly after meeting the woman she later would marry, the congregation in that other small Georgia town responded by campaigning to send her to conversion therapy and holding prayer vigils outside her home.

She found Mt. Hebron a few years ago through a friend. Pastor Grant Myerholtz, whose usual preaching attire is T-shirt and jeans, met her and her wife at the door. They listened carefully as he stood in the pulpit and proclaimed: All are welcome.

“It was like this load was off of me,” Massey, 63, recalled last week.

There are good churches and there are bad churches. Got that.

II. This is an age in which churches need to change their doctrines if they want to, well, grow (or at the very least get good coverage from blue-zip-code elite newsrooms).

Thus, this Post story offers a very clear thesis statement as Point II.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , , , , , , , ,

After all of the miracles he has seen in his life, why doesn't Indiana Jones truly believe?

, , , , , , , , , , ,
After all of the miracles he has seen in his life, why doesn't Indiana Jones truly believe?

By the end of "Raiders of the Lost Ark," archaeologist Indiana Jones had learned enough to know that he should close his eyes when facing the wrath of God.

Apparently, that kind of power can melt Nazis -- without changing the hero's soul.

"Why won't Indiana Jones convert? We aren't insisting that he convert to our faith or to his father's faith or really to any faith in particular," noted Jack Bennett, in a Popcorn Cathedral video marking the "Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny" release.

"What we want to know is why he is always back to square one at the start of every adventure -- a skeptic, or even a scoffer. I mean, think about it: He has seen the Ark of the Covenant opened and the destroying angels pour out God's vengeance on his enemies. He has seen the sacred Hindu stones come to life. …He has seen the true cup of Christ heal his own father from a fatal gunshot wound -- on screen, with no ambiguity."

In what the 80-year-old Harrison Ford has promised is the finale, Indiana Jones remains the archaeologist who risks everything to keep supernatural, even holy, artifacts out of the bad guys' clutches.

This is a war between archetypes of Good and Evil -- with capital letters. The Nazis are on one side, fighting with a brave skeptic who careens through scenes based on Saturday-matinee classics. Miraculous stories from the past are mere fairy tales, until he learns that Higher Powers are at work. Then again, maybe it's just aliens or generic supernatural forces.

In the new film, Jones confesses: "I don't believe in magic, but a few times in my life I've seen things, things I can't explain." But after a life wrestling with sacred mysteries, he concludes: "It's not so much what you believe. It's about how hard you believe it."


Please respect our Commenting Policy