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Catholicism, faith and soccer: Asking some questions about a Messi religion situation

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I often joke with friends that the biggest religion in the world is soccer.

Yes, soccer. It’s kind of a combination of worldview, faith and sociology.

Depending what part of the world you hail from, this sport is also known as football, futbol, calcio, futebol and voetbal. But no matter what you call it, soccer is the passion of millions upon millions of people across the globe (including this super fan) and increasingly so in the United States.

Soccer, in my experience, can be — and has been — a very unifying force. No matter where in the world I may be, just mention that you follow soccer almost automatically results in a conversation. I have found that to be true everywhere I’ve been — from South Africa to Brazil to Russia. I have also found taxi drivers everywhere to be among the biggest, and most knowledgable, fans of the world’s most popular sport.

Soccer has many parallels to organized religion, especially Catholicism. Some of the world’s best players hail from majority Catholic nations (although evangelicals and Pentecostals are on the rise in South America).

True believers gather — at least they did before COVID-19 — on Sundays inside massive stadiums (often likened to cathedrals) to cheer on their favorite teams with a fervor unseen in other sports around the world. It also isn’t unusual for soccer players to make the sign of the cross after a goal or when a team records a victory. Despite all these parallels, it is often lost on journalists that religious faith, and how it impacts a particular player or team, has very real resonance to the story and readers.

Take, for example, Lionel Messi. The Barcelona star (who seemed to be on the brink of signing with Manchester City) decided earlier this month to stay in the Spanish city.

In an exclusive interview with Goal.com, Messi outlined why he decided to stay. Here’s what he said:

“My son, my family, they grew up here and are from here. There was nothing wrong with wanting to leave. I needed it, the club needed it and it was good for everyone.

“My wife, with all the pain of her soul, supported and accompanied me.”

This is a time when journalists, sports writers in particular, have little trouble asking public figures questions related to politics. Indeed, this summer has seen leagues across the United States, for example, openly advocate for social justice by wearing Black Lives Matter shirts or refusing to play altogether in order to make a statement about police brutality.

If politics can be something athletes can care about deeply, isn’t faith also one of them?


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Press is right to ask: Why was that video about 'Hitler' offensive at a Christian college?

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One thing I found out after a teaching at two Christian colleges (one as an adjunct and the other as a professor), is that the powers-that-be do not want faculty to stand out. Whereas a secular institution is generally happy if faculty are out there making news, conservative Christian colleges don’t want faculty angering anyone who might withhold donations as a result.

So if you wonder why so many faculty at Christian colleges appear to be a bland lot, that’s why. Outspoken folks like Karen Swallow Prior (formerly at Liberty University, now at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary) are rare. Prior never got fired from Liberty but others of us weren’t so lucky,

The list of Christian faculty kicked out of their institutions now includes James Spiegel, a newly dismissed professor from the evangelically minded Taylor University in Indiana. We’ll start with Emily McFarlan Miller’s RNS story to get the basics:

A longtime faculty member at Taylor University no longer has a job at the Christian school, reportedly after posting a video of a song he’d written titled “Little Hitler” on YouTube.

An email sent Tuesday (Sept. 1) to the “Taylor University Family” from the school’s president, provost, dean and board chair confirmed James Spiegel, a professor of philosophy and religion, no longer is employed by the university in Upland, Indiana.

Spiegel, who had been employed by the university since 1993, according to his curriculum vitae, is a controversial figure on campus.

He wrote a petition opposing plans to bring Starbucks to campus because of its “stands on the sanctity of life and human sexuality” and signed onto another supporting Vice President Mike Pence’s invitation to speak last year at graduation. Taylor's president resigned a month after Pence's visit, which sparked sharp disagreement on campus.

So here’s a guy who’s been on campus 27 years and they only now decide they don’t want him?

Spiegel told Taylor’s student newspaper, The Echo, that he was fired after he posted and declined to remove a YouTube video two weeks ago in which he performed an original song titled “Little Hitler." The professor claimed the school had received a harassment complaint about the video. He also said he previously had performed the song at chapel and at a faculty retreat, according to The Echo.

The song includes the lyrics: “We’re appalled at injustice and oppression and every atrocity that makes the nightly news, but just give it a thought: If you knew you’d never get caught, you’d be thieving and raping and murdering, too.”

Sounds basic Christian theology about the depravity of sinful mankind to me. The student newspaper’s account of the firing made it clear that it was Spiegel’s activism on behalf of several causes led to his dismissal. Oddly, the video had been around for 10 years.

“I have performed it numerous times in various places, including in a Taylor chapel in October 2010 and at a Taylor Colleagues College faculty retreat to about 120 faculty,” Spiegel wrote. “There were no complaints in either case.”

Spiegel has also been in the limelight for recent controversial actions, such as the authorship of the “Excalibur” newsletter in early 2018, and for authorship of the petition in spring of 2019 against an on-campus Starbucks which never materialized on campus.

When asked if these controversies added to the decision for his termination, Spiegel wrote that “many people believe that is the case.”

Reporting on this sort of thing is harder than it looks. There are many layers. While looking at various blogs that were commenting on the issue, one by John Fea struck my eye. Read this paragraph closely:

Should he be fired for “Little Hitler”? I can’t answer that question. I would need to know more about the local culture on campus at Taylor and the way Spiegel and his song fit into that culture. Perhaps there is a larger story here. Maybe this is more than just an academic freedom issue.

Some of you might be surprised to know that Christian universities closely guard the idea of their institutions having a “culture” that cannot be disturbed. This is not just an idea from the Right. You’ve no doubt read about how college campuses tend to have almost zero conservative and/or Republican faculty because the liberal mindset of these places doesn’t want anyone countering the zeitgeist.


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New York Times considers free speech wars in Hong Kong, while ignoring religious issues

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The locals had few illusions, back in 1997, when I spent a week in Hong Kong during the days just before the handover ceremonies that put one of Asia’s most important cities under the control of Chinese authorities.

The purpose of my trip was to attend a conference about religion and the news (click here for the text of my presentation during that event), so it was understandable that participants talked to quite a few leaders in Hong Kong’s diverse and prominent religious community.

But that really didn’t matter. Secular human-rights people I met were saying the same things as the church leaders. They were all digging into the fine details of the new Special Administrative Region's Basic Law and seeing ominous loopholes.

Article 23, for example, was causing concern, with its language stating that Hong Kong's new leaders "shall enact laws ... to prohibit any act of treason, secession, sedition (or) subversion against the Central People's Government, ... to prohibit foreign political organizations or bodies from conducting political activities in the Region, and to prohibit political organizations or bodies of the Region from establishing ties with foreign political organizations or bodies".”

Did that include the Vatican? Would Baptists, Methodists, Anglicans and others be allowed to maintain ties to their global fellowships or communions?

Global issues were sure to surface, activists told me. But that would not be the first place where the hammer would fall. Activists warned that free-speech issues would be the first war zone — free speech about politics, of course, but also about religion, an area of life that troubled government leaders.

This brings me to a recent New York Times feature — a mix of text and graphics — that ran under this headline: “What You Can No Longer Say in Hong Kong.” Surely this story about the impact of new laws in Hong Kong would address religious speech issues as well as politics? Here is a crucial summary:

The police have since arrested more than 20 people under the new law, which lays out political crimes punishable by life imprisonment in serious cases, and allows Beijing to intervene directly if it wants.

Hong Kong was once a bastion of free speech. It served as a base for the international news media and for rights groups, and as a haven for political refugees, including the student leaders of the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests in Beijing. Books on sensitive political topics that are banned in mainland China found a home in the city’s bookstores.


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Plug-in: Dirty words enliven the week's religion news, and not for the first time

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Fasten your seatbelt, dear reader.

There’s cussing up ahead.

That’s right: R-rated language made it into the religion news. Again.

Before we cite the specifics, let’s consider this guidance from the Associated Press Stylebook — aka “the journalist’s bible” — on obscenities, profanities and vulgarities:

Do not use them in stories unless they are part of direct quotations and there is a compelling reason for them.

In this week’s examples, the words in question showed up in coverage of “Disloyal: A Memoir,” a new book by Michael Cohen, “President Trump’s longtime fixer,” as the Wall Street Journal described him.

The Journal reported:

Mr. Cohen describes the president as lacking either faith or piety and recounts him disparaging various groups, including his own supporters. In 2012, after meeting with religious leaders at Trump Tower, where they asked to “lay hands” on Mr. Trump, Mr. Cohen recalls his asking: “Can you believe that bull****?…Can you believe people believe that bull****?”

Note: The asterisks were not used in the actual Journal news story.

The White House dismissed the book’s claims as “lies” by “a disgraced felon and disbarred lawyer.”

But whether the quote is fact or fiction, the notion of Trump uttering a profanity is not difficult to believe.

After all, the future president was caught on videotape delivering the famous “Grab-em-by-the-p****” line. And Politico wrote last year about Trump irritating evangelicals by “using the Lord’s name in vain.”

Perhaps more surprising — then again, maybe not given recent allegations — was the quote Reuters attributed to Becki Falwell. She is the wife of Jerry Falwell Jr., the prominent evangelical leader who recently resigned as president of Liberty University.

The book ties Falwell Jr.’s 2016 endorsement of Trump to Cohen “helping to keep racy ‘personal’ photographs of the Falwells from becoming public.”


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Farewell to 'Diogenes,' a witty, conservative Jesuit with a very sharp pen

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Farewell to 'Diogenes,' a witty, conservative Jesuit with a very sharp pen

For millions of Americans, "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" is as familiar as the national anthem and much easier to sing.

Few would need help with: "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored. He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword. His truth is marching on! Glory, glory, Hallelujah! … His truth is marching on!"

During 1990s fights over updated Catholic liturgies, a Semitic languages professor at Rome's Pontifical Biblical Institute wrote a Battle Hymn for modernists.

This "sanitized" text -- "chanted to no tune in particular" -- declared: "I see God's approach; it is good. God makes wine with God's feet. … Brightness flashes from the decision-making apparatus. God's worldview is currently earning widespread respect. Give honor repeatedly to the god of our tradition. We have owned our values."

Father Paul V. Mankowski put his own name on that First Things piece, since it didn't lance specific institutions or leaders. For decades, Catholics seeking his satirical work learned to look for "Diogenes" at CatholicCulture.org or "Father X" elsewhere.

Mankowski died on September 3 at age 66, felled by a ruptured brain aneurysm. Raised in a middle-class Rust Belt family, he worked in steel mills to pay tuition at the University of Chicago. His advanced degrees included a master's from Oxford and a Harvard University doctorate.

Many researchers, politicos and journalists (like me) knew him through telephone calls and emails, usually seeking documents and statements from nearby Catholic leaders. He was a rarity in the modern age -- a Jesuit conservative -- and his superiors eventually ordered him not to address church controversies. Much of his work was published anonymously or using pen names.

Princeton University's Robert P. George blitzed through years of emails, after hearing about Mankowski's sudden death.

"There are some doozies -- especially the spoofs, send ups and parodies," said George, on Facebook. "His wit was a massive quiver full of poison-dipped arrows, and he was a master archer.


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Rust Belt religion: Do political reporters get that Catholics are the key voters in 2020?

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“White evangelical Protestants,” “white evangelical Protestants,” “white evangelical Protestants.”

“Catholic voters,” “Catholic voters,” “Catholic voters.”

World without end, amen.

The closer we get to Election Day 2020, the more we are going to see these terms in the news.

The assumption is that the “Catholic vote” is especially crucial to Democrat Joe Biden, since he is a life-long Catholic who is seeking to become America’s second Catholic in the White House. Meanwhile, journalists continue to be obsessed with President Donald Trump’s popularity among white evangelical Protestants, who played such a crucial role in his rise during the GOP primaries in 2015.

However, if you look at the swing states that put Trump in office, it was clear that Rust Belt Catholics — blue-collar Catholics in particular — were crucial voters four years ago.

During the past couple of years, our own Richard Ostling has been stressing that political-beat reporters really need to get over the whole “white evangelicals” thing and accept that, as is so often the case, Catholic voters will be the key swing voters this time around.

If readers and scribes need more input on that point, please consider this recent Pittsburgh Post-Gazette think piece by Mark J. Rozell, dean of the Schar School of Policy and Government at George Mason University. The blunt headline: “Catholics, not evangelicals, will make or break Trump.” Here is a crucial chunk of that essay:

In 2016, Mr. Trump won Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin — states with heavy concentrations of Catholic voters — by merely 107,000 votes combined. Although since the 1980s the U.S. national vote and the Catholic vote component have tracked very closely to each other in each election cycle, 2016 was an exception: Hillary Clinton handily won the national popular vote and Mr. Trump won the majority of Catholic voters. Exit polls had Mr. Trump holding a 52%-to-45% edge among Catholics.

Two critical things happened that helped Mr. Trump: his populist economic appeals to white working class voters in those key states, and the widely predicted “Latino surge” never materialized.


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Podcast: USA Today Network study of chaplain in COVID crisis avoids big, eternal questions

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For the last decade of his ministry, my father — the Rev. Bert Mattingly — was the Southern Baptist chaplain at the Texas Children’s Hospital. He assisted at several other facilities in the Texas Medical Center in downtown Houston, working with chaplains representing a number of other churches and traditions.

I went to work with him several times. During one visit, we passed a small sitting room and my father said this was his private “crash” spot where he would go when he was overwhelmed and needed to pull himself together. Each of the chaplains had a safe place like this and only the chaplains receptionist knew these locations. (This was before cellphones were omnipresent.)

I also remember lots of prayers and the big questions. A hospital chaplain prays all the time, especially in a facility full of families with children facing cancer or leukemia.

There’s no way around the fact that most of a chaplain’s prayers are linked to big, eternal questions that never go away. Questions like this: Why is this happening to my child? Where is God in all of this pain? Does God understand that I’m scared? What do I do with my guilt and my anger? Is heaven real?

I thought about my father (and a beloved uncle who was a hospital chaplain for half a century) as we recorded this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). That’s easy to understand, since we were talking about a massive USA Today Network feature — from The Louisville Courier-Journal — that ran with this title: “ 'Hurry, he's dying': A chaplain’s journal chronicles a pandemic's private wounds.”

This is a remarkable feature story, in terms of human drama and suffering. It was built on the kind of source reporters dream about, in terms of a body of written material packed with dates, times, places and human interactions — a chaplain’s personal journal of the coronavirus crisis.

Yes, this is a stunning story. The writing is first rate. However, it’s strangely silent when it comes to the content of this chaplain’s ministry — in terms of the big questions and the prayers that follow This Norton Healthcare chaplain has no specific faith tradition, church or approach to theology. Readers never even learn if Adam Ruiz is ordained and, if so, by whom. My research online found a clue that he might be part of the mainline Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Here is a crucial chunk of the intro material in this feature:

Like colleagues across the country, Ruiz’s already tough job providing spiritual care amid loss had grown exponentially more difficult. Illness and death multiplied. Fear and uncertainty gripped front-line doctors and nurses. Visitor restrictions meant suffocating isolation for patients and families. Grief was interrupted, funerals denied. A mountain of need sprang up overnight.


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Thinking with Ryan Burge: What REALLY happens after people get 'born again'?

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I didn’t know it at the time, but it was one of those moments when America changed.

Well, that isn’t true. America didn’t change on this particular night early in Jimmy Carter’s campaign for the Democratic Party nomination to seek the presidency. It was a moment when American journalism changed, when lots of reporters in East and West Coast media centers were forced to wrestle with the term “born-again Christian” for the first time.

The number of born-again Christians in American didn’t change, just because a major political figure applied the term to his own status as a believer. But this term — rooted in church history and doctrine — moved into a political context, which meant that it became a real thing for many journalists.

I’ve told this story before, but it’s relevant once again — because of a fascinating new think piece by political scientist Ryan Burge, a GetReligion contributor, about what happens (and what rarely happens) after a person claims to have been born again.

Hold that thought, while we head back to 1975.

… I'll never forget the night when an anchor at ABC News — faced with Democrat Jimmy Carter talking about his born-again Christian faith — solemnly looked into the camera and told viewers that ABC News was investigating this phenomenon (born-again Christians) and would have a report in a future newscast.

What percentage of the American population uses the term "born again" to describe their faith? Somewhere between 40 and 60 percent back then? I mean, Carter wasn't telling America that he was part of an obscure sect, even though many journalists were freaked out by this words — due to simple ignorance (or perhaps bias).

Actually, the percentage was almost certainly 40% in that era and I was wrong to assume that it had ever been higher.

Nevertheless, 40% is not a small chunk of the population and many of those believers are found among the 20% of Americans who consistently practice their religious faith in daily life. We know that because, for decades, the Gallup organization has been asking “born-again” and “evangelical” questions in its polling research.


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Global COVID-19 parables: What responsibility do faith groups have to the larger society?

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I’m a great fan of a magical sense of awe, that heightened state of awareness during which the transcendent feels most palpable. However, I am decidedly not a fan of magical thinking that denies the seriousness of the coronavirus pandemic.

I consider the latter delusional at best. The pandemic will not end because some — particularly those in positions of authority — wish it away. It can only be tamed, I believe, by limiting its spread until medical researchers develop a dependable vaccine or cure.

Until then, our responsibility as members of a highly interdependent society is to protect ourselves and each other via responsible social distancing and by always wearing a mask when adequate distancing is impossible. Anything less, in my book — speaking as someone who due to age and preexisting medical conditions is at great risk — is selfish and irresponsible.

Nor do I care whether the deniers are bikers in South Dakota, frat boys on any number of university campuses who can’t resist a keg or political libertarians who insist that their individual choices are at least as, if not more, important than the communal good in a national health emergency.

Ditto for the most sincerely devout of fatalistic religious believers who think their faith will protect them and their co-religionists. Or who insist that government — any secular government — lacks the authority to limit their religious expression in any way.

My news feeds have been replete with such examples. Here are three that have particularly aroused my pique. I consider each a clear example of self-aggrandizing, potentially deadly religious entitlement.

One story is from Israel and concerns a group of ultra-Orthodox Hasidic Jews who have insisted on making their annual Rosh Hashanah pilgrimage to a Ukrainian city where their deceased spiritual leader is buried. This, despite the probability that they’re likely to bring the pandemic with them.

A second from, South Korea, tells the tale of a megachurch that found itself at the center of a coronavirus cluster, which it blames on misleading figures released by government opponents.

The third involves the Rev. John MacArthur of Los Angeles’ Grace Community Church, who recently claimed that the number of American COVID-19 deaths is way below the generally accepted figures reported by mainstream news outlets. MacArthur claimed that there is no pandemic.


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