Social Issues

Talkin' Charlie Daniels 2.0: Country music is a mix of Sunday morning and Saturday night

There’s this old saying here in Tennessee: When you’re talking about country music, you have to deal with stuff that happens on Saturday night and on Sunday morning.

The first person I heard say that was Naomi Judd and, well, she would know a thing or two about that. However, I don’t think that soundbite of wisdom originated with her. That would, for example, help explain the music of Hank Williams. Ditto for Willie Nelson. How about Dolly Parton?

You can put Charlie Daniels in there, as well. This leads me to the podcast conversation I had this week with Eric Metaxas, who has been a friend for 20 years or so. Please note that this goes way back before Donald Trump decided to enter politics.

Metaxas and I agree on many things and we disagree on a few things, too. But we care deeply about what happens when religious issues collide with the news. Eric tends to focus on the end product, while — as someone who has worked in newsrooms — tend to focus on the process.

You see, in the newsrooms I have worked in there have been lots of people who “get” Saturday night, by which I mean the rough-and-tumble topics (including politics) that folks hash out in honky-tonks. There are also a few newsroom pros who “get” what happens on Sunday morning, as in the world of religion.

When it comes time to write about the life of a person like country-rock superstar Charlie Daniels, what ends up in print largely depends on who is assigned to cover the story. That usually offers a window into the worldview of newsroom managers, just as much as it does reporters.

I was stunned when the Nashville Tennessean obit for Daniels viewed his life through the lens of politics and the Trump era (oh, and music). This affected what many news consumers read all over Tennessee, since Gannett now runs this state’s dominant newspapers (including my local paper in Knoxville).

My concern about that obit led to this post: “There was more to Charlie Daniels than politics and even his music (hint: 'I'll Fly Away').” This part of the piece jumped out at me:

… Daniels undoubtedly had many other passions. A staunch supporter of U.S. troops and veterans, he spent much of his career traveling overseas to play for service members in Kuwait, Iraq and Afghanistan. …

For the last four years, hardly a day went by without Daniels sharing this message on his Twitter account: “22 VETERANS COMMIT SUICIDE EVERY DAY!!”

On the platform, the man who sang 1980's confrontational "In America" solidified his reputation as one of the most outspoken figures in country music. In daily posts, he would decry abortion as “murder,” ask fans to “pray for the blue,” and declare that “Benghazi ain’t going away.”


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Thinking about 'fundamentalism' with David French: Does this f-word apply to liberalism?

Once upon a time, the word “evangelical” was not the primary curse that public intellectuals (and some journalists) hurled at people they considered dangerous.

Instead, they used “fundamentalist.” That’s a term that, originally, was much easier to define because it was linked to a specific set of documents — the “Fundamentals of the Faith” — produced by a specific set of Protestant thinkers. This crowd, believe it our not, included quite a few conservative Anglicans, Presbyterians and other “mainliners,” including some from the Northeast.

Over time, use of the term got sloppy, even among scholars (as opposed to journalists). As I wrote in an “on Religion” column on this topic:

Anyone who expects scholars to stand strong and defend a basic, historic definition will be disappointed. As philosopher Alvin Plantinga of the University of Notre Dame once quipped, among academics "fundamentalist" has become a "term of abuse or disapprobation" that most often resembles the casual semi-curse, "sumbitch."

"Still, there is a bit more to the meaning. ... In addition to its emotive force, it does have some cognitive content, and ordinarily denotes relatively conservative theological views," noted Plantinga, in an Oxford Press publication. "That makes it more like 'stupid sumbitch.' ... Its cognitive content is given by the phrase 'considerably to the right, theologically speaking, of me and my enlightened friends.' "

However, as your GetReligionistas have noted many times over the past 17 years, the Associated Press Stylebook maintained a nuanced and historically accurate reference to this term. (If this has changed, please let me know. The stylebook on my desk is several years old.)

fundamentalist: The word gained usage in an early 20th century fundamentalist-modernist controversy within Protestantism. In recent years, however, fundamentalist has to a large extent taken on pejorative connotations except when applied to groups that stress strict, literal interpretations of Scripture and separation from other Christians. In general, do not use fundamentalist unless a group applies the word to itself.

Alas, the use of “fundamentalist” in other contexts kept spreading, producing “fundamentalist” Muslims, “fundamentalist” Catholics and other non-Protestant variations. The idea was that, instead of specific doctrines, “fundamentalism” could be seen as an approach to culture, faith, public life, leadership, etc.

With that in mind, readers should check out this recent David French piece from The Dispatch, which ran with this headline: “America Is in the Grips of a Fundamentalist Revival But it’s not Christian.”


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Are the Sexual Revolution vs. religious liberty wars over at Supreme Court? Let's ask Bluto ...

Want to hear a depressing question?

How many years, or even months, will it take for someone to pull the Little Sisters of the Poor back to the U.S. Supreme Court for another case linked to the status of Obamacare’s contraception mandate?

That’s right. The odds are good that we can brace ourselves for yet another Little Sisters of the Poor vs. the United States of America (or maybe the leaders of a blue-zip-code state or local government).

I predict that we will see Little Sisters of the Poor Round 4 in the headlines sooner or later, for reasons that host Todd Wilken and I discussed during this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in).

For starters, in this recent case the high court upheld an executive order from the Donald Trump White House, as opposed to grounding its decision in the defense of a specific piece of legislation — as in the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) of 1993. You may recall that this bill defending a liberal (in the old sense of that word) take on religious freedom passed with an impressive margin — 97-3.

One of the sponsors of that legislation — which was backed by a Clinton-Gore era coalition of liberals and conservatives — had this to say about its importance:

Today I am introducing legislation to restore the previous rule of law, which required the Government to justify restrictions on religious freedom. …

Making a religious practice a crime is a substantial burden on religious freedom. It forces a person to choose between abandoning religious principles or facing prosecution. Before we permit such a burden on religious freedom to stand, the Court should engage in a case-by-case analysis of such restrictions to determine if the Government’s prohibition is justified. …

This bill is needed because even neutral, general laws can unnecessarily restrict religious freedom.

That was U.S. Sen. Joseph Biden, of course, during an era when he was considered a moderate who tended to stand with the U.S. Catholic Bishops on quite a few social and moral issues.

The question now is this: What are the odds that one of the first things President Joe Biden’s team will do is erase most, if not all, of the Trump-era executive orders linked to religious liberty and the First Amendment?


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There was more to Charlie Daniels than politics and even his music (hint: 'I'll Fly Away')

Here in the Volunteer State, lots of Tennesseans are grieving the loss of a crucial figure in the history of that unique brand of Southern rock that gave American the Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Marshall Tucker Band and lots of other fiery folks.

Charlie Daniels mixed rock, blues, country, bluegrass, folk, Texas swing, gospel and every other stream of music that flows through Memphis, Nashville, Knoxville and everywhere else in the Cumberland and Great Smoky Mountains. You heard his music in bars and you also heard it revival meetings in evangelical and Pentecostal churches.

At a crucial moment in music history, Daniels was Bob Dylan’s favorite Nashville guitar player. He also was known to do at bit of testifying at Billy Graham crusades. In a way, those two facts don’t clash all that much. President Jimmy Carter was a fan, too.

As you would expect, this music legend’s sudden death — his final tweets gave no hint of the stroke and collapse to come — received quite a bit of attention in The Nashville Tennessean and the other Gannett newspapers that dominate this state. Here’s the headline on the main Tennessean story: “Charlie Daniels, 'Devil Went Down to Georgia' singer, famed fiddler and outspoken star, dies at 83.”

In social media, the tributes to Daniels — by music stars and ordinary fans — almost all stress his Christian faith. You can see that in this collection of tweets that were part of the online Tennessean package.

But if you dig a bit deeper into the comments on these tributes, it’s easy to see that quite a few other people hated Daniels because of his conservative Christian convictions.

Consider, for example, the hurricane of hate and bile running through many of the comments following the typically sweet tribute tweets that came from Dolly Parton. (Make sure you read her second tweet and the comments connected to it.)

I would argue that it’s impossible to understand the “outspoken” side of this man’s life — that word shows up over and over in coverage of his death — without understanding his faith. So what made it into the main Tennessean obit?


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Seattle's de-policed CHAZ district is a religion-free zone, even in mainstream press

While coverage of religion during the protests surrounding the death of George Floyd has revolved around the antics of President Donald Trump hoisting a Bible, there’s been no mention of it here in “occupied” Seattle.

Living in the suburbs as I do, I wondered if there is some faith-based news happening on Capitol Hill –- the part of the Emerald City that’s been taken over by protestors and devoid of police for more than a week. If so, journalists are not mentioning it. After scouring the pages of the Seattle Times and other publications, I only found one mention, by the Wall Street Journal’s religion reporter, of a group of chaplains on site.

So on Sunday afternoon, I decided to repair to what was known as CHAZ (Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone) –- a six-block area -– to see for myself. (As of Sunday, the area is also known as CHOP for Capitol Hill Occupied Protest to signify these folks aren’t leaving the area any time soon. I’ll use the CHAZ moniker).

I’d hung back before, mainly because (1)I didn’t know if I’d be welcome as a white person; (2) The weather has been rainy for weeks here; and (3) I don’t know that area of town very well. Then #VisitSeattle ran this post on their Facebook page last Friday telling everyone to drop on by.

Contrary to what you may have seen in some news reports, Seattle is not under siege. We are healing. We are growing. We are coming together to learn from each other and support our neighbors. This is our community. And it's beautiful.

Then I saw a widely distributed video showing a white preacher getting beaten by a vicious crowd at CHAZ (shown below). The preacher was hoisting a sign and yelling “Sin is worse than death!” Yes, a mob congregated, flung themselves on him, forcibly kissed him (sexual assault anyone?) and stole his phone. I am not excusing his horrible treatment, but I wondered at the wisdom of this guy trying to use the #BlackLivesMatter space as a Gospel-preaching platform.

CHAZ is not a space for white folks to do street preaching at this point. The emotions are too raw. Why didn’t he team up with black Christian friends and have them preach instead of him? What he did was just stupid.

Yes, he had a First Amendment right to be there, but remember, dear readers, that the mayor has ceded this area to CHAZ, so forget about constitutional rights and police protection as well.


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Thinking about journalism as religion: Damon Linker on 'woke' press shunning old liberalism

Long ago, when GetReligion was born, another website set out to offer its own view of religion and the news.

From the start, GetReligion wanted to defend the old-school approach to journalism that historians call the American Model of the Press.

The other site — The Revealer — basically approached religion as a great global mystery that journalists feared handling. Since it was all a mystery, it should be covered that way — with a magazine feature approach that offered all kinds of room for analysis, opinion and strange details. It’s kind of an online magazine about religion that you can tell is rooted in college and academic culture.

At the time of that site’s birth, New York University journalist professor Jay Rosen wrote a piece entitled “Journalism Is Itself a Religion.” The epic subtitle said, in part: “The newsroom is a nest of believers if we include believers in journalism itself. There is a religion of the press. There is also a priesthood.”

Rosen described some of the doctrines of this de facto newsroom religion, as he saw it from his desk in New York. I bring this up as a way of introducing a think piece — another Damon Linker essay at The Week about the civil war inside the newsroom at The New York Times: “The woke revolution in American journalism has begun.” This war is, you see, a clash between competing doctrinal approaches to journalism.

But before we go there, let’s go back to a key chunk of the Rosen piece — which focuses one of the key problems that shape the religion of journalism. You will immediately see the link to GetReligion. This is long, but essential:

Ninety percent of the commentary on this subject takes in another kind of question entirely: What results from the “relative godlessness of mainstream journalists?” Or, in a more practical vein: How are editors and reporters striving to improve or beef up their religion coverage?

Here and there in the discussion of religion “in” the news, there arises a trickier matter, which is the religion of the newsroom, and of the priesthood in the press.


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Thinking with Ryan Burge: Religious faith, moral convictions and obeying the law

You can learn a lot about protest and civil disobedience by studying this history of religious movements in America and around the world. I did that in college and grad school.

I also learned quite a bit these topics while, as a reporter, hiking out into the vast expanses of northeastern Colorado in the mid 1980s with some Catholic peace activists who planned to stage a protest at the gate surrounding a set of nuclear missile silos. I saw one of the same nuns get arrest at an abortion facility.

At some point, of course, protesters face a choice — will they break the law. That sounds like a simple line in the legal sand, but it isn’t.

Here is what I remember from that experience long ago. I offer this imperfect and simple typology as a way of introducing another interesting set of statistics — in a chart, of course — from social scientist Ryan Burge of the ReligionInPublic blog, who is also a GetReligion contributor.

This particular set of numbers looks at various religious traditions and the degree to which these various believers say they obey laws, without exception. You can see how that might affect questions linked to protest, civil disobedience and even the use of violence in protests.

But back to the very high plains of Colorado. We discussed several different levels of protest.

* Protesters can, of course, apply for parade permits and, when they have received one, they can strictly cooperate with public officials.

* It is possible to hold protests in public places where assemblies of various kinds are legal — period.

* Then again, protesters can obstruct city streets for as long as possible and, when confronted by police, they can disburse without a major confrontation.

* Or not. At some point, protesters can peacefully violate a law and refuse to leave — whether that’s a major road crossing, the whites only rows of a city bus, the front gates of an abortion facility or the security zone outside a nuclear missile silo. Hanging protest banners — or similar actions — is another option here. In civil disobedience, protesters accept that they will be arrested.


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Podcast: Jump in GetReligion WABAC machine and explore roots of @NYTimes revolt

When I was a kid in the 1960s — soon after the cooling of the Earth’s crust — I was a big fan of the The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. My favorite feature was the show within the show entitled “Peabody's Improbable History," in which the WABAC machine transported the brilliant Mr. Peabody (a dog, actually) and his boy Sherman (an actual boy) into the past to have wonderful adventures.

At two points in my life I have been a fan of the BBC Doctor Who series — especially Tom Baker as Doctor No. 4 and Peter Capaldi as No. 12.

So this time travel thing is a useful concept, methinks, even when dealing with trends in postmodern journalism. You’ll see that (or hear it) during this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). In this particular post we will be making four stops, although we could make a dozen.

Turn on the WABAC machine and tell me — as a reflection on the latest editorial explosion in the New York Times newsroom — who said or wrote the following (don’t click the link yet) after debates about fair and accurate coverage of what event?

As we reflect on the momentous result, and the months of reporting and polling that preceded it, we aim to rededicate ourselves to the fundamental mission of Times journalism. That is to report America and the world honestly, without fear or favor, striving always to understand and reflect all political perspectives and life experiences in the stories that we bring to you. It is also to hold power to account, impartially and unflinchingly. You can rely on The New York Times to bring the same fairness, the same level of scrutiny, the same independence to our coverage of the new president and his team.

That, of course, was part of a letter from New York Times publisher Arthur Sulzberger Jr., and executive editor Dean Baquet — responding to complaints that their newspaper had botched coverage of the 2016 White House race and the rise of Donald Trump.

How do those words hold up right now?

The key issue, according to Times public editor Liz Spayd, was whether America’s most influential newsroom was interested in doing accurate, informed, fair-minded coverage of roughly half of the American population. See this column, in particular: “Want to Know What America’s Thinking? Try Asking.” Here is a key chunk of that:


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Thinking about evangelicals, abortion and race: David French covers some complex history

History is a complex subject and often not for the faint of heart.

With that in mind, allow me to ask a history question to evangelicals who want to know more about their own past. I would also like to ask this question to religion-beat professionals under the age of 60, or thereabouts.

In 1971, a major American religious group passed a resolution on a topic that was becoming more controversial — abortion. Of course, the Roe v. Wade decision issued on January 22 in 1973 would create a political, cultural and moral earthquake that continues to this day.

So here is my question: What religious body passed the 1971 resolution that urged its members to “work for legislation that will allow the possibility of abortion under such conditions as rape, incest, clear evidence of severe fetal deformity, and carefully ascertained evidence of the likelihood of damage to the emotional, mental, and physical health of the mother.”

What was the name this giant religious group? This resolution was passed during the annual meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention. The same body reaffirmed that resolution in 1974 and in 1976 — after Roe.

Were these actions shocking, at the time? As historian Randall Balmer noted in a paper entitled “The Historian’s Pickaxe” (.pdf here):

Although a few evangelical voices, including Christianity Today magazine, mildly criticized the ruling, the overwhelming response was silence, even approval. Baptists, in particular, applauded the decision as an appropriate articulation of the division between church and state, between personal morality and state regulation of individual behavior. “Religious liberty, human equality and justice are advanced by the Supreme Court abortion decision,” wrote W. Barry Garrett of Baptist Press.

This was the era in which I came of age as a Southern Baptist preacher’s son in Texas — finishing high school and then heading to Baylor to study journalism and the history of religion in America. I bring this subject up because this slice of SBC history plays a crucial role in this weekend’s think piece, which is written by David French of The Dispatch, a cultural conservative who is an experienced legal mind on religious liberty issues. The title of his essay: “Fact and Fiction About Racism and the Rise of the Religious Right.”

The big issue for French is whether the X factor in the birth of the Religious Right was abortion or, as some now claim, racism.


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