Chattanooga

Return of a Godbeat F-bomb: The 'curse of Ham,' Twelve Tribes history and a Colorado fire

Return of a Godbeat F-bomb: The 'curse of Ham,' Twelve Tribes history and a Colorado fire

Let’s start with a journalism question about the news coming out of Colorado about possible links between the Marshall Fire and a controversial religious group known as the Twelve Tribes.

The New York Times has used that popular journalism F-word — “fundamentalist” — in a major story that ran with this headline: “Colorado Wildfire Inquiry Focuses on Christian Sect.” The read-out under that headline states: “Investigators are looking at the possibility that a fire that destroyed more than 900 homes started on property owned by a fundamentalist Christian sect known as Twelve Tribes.”

Once again, we need to talk about what the word “fundamentalist” means and what it does not mean. Let me ask this question, before we proceed: Is the “Twelve Tribes” movement a “fundamentalist Christian” group in the same sense that Black or White independent Baptist churches found in many or most American cities are accurately described, in doctrinal terms, as “fundamentalist”?

Perhaps the crucial question for journalists covering this story is whether the Twelve Tribes movement is a “sect” or, in sociological terms, an actual “cult”? Hold that thought.

First, here is the overture of the Times story, showing the context for this religion-beat F-bomb:

Investigators looking into the cause of a colossal wildfire in Colorado that forced the evacuation of tens of thousands of people are focusing on a property owned by a Christian fundamentalist sect, after witnesses reported seeing a structure on fire there moments before the blaze spread with astonishing speed across drought-stricken suburbs.

Sheriff Joe Pelle of Boulder County said at a news briefing … that the property owned by Twelve Tribes, which was founded in Tennessee in the 1970s, had become a target of the inquiry after investigators ruled out the possibility that downed power lines might have sparked the fire.

With that in mind, let’s return to the pages of the journalism bible know as the Associated Press Stylebook (h/t to Bobby Ross, Jr., for checking the evolving online edition).

Let us attend.

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.


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A priest is a priest is a priest: Do editors need to include church labels in headlines?

If you know anything about how newsrooms work, then you know — as your GetReligionistas often stress — that reporters do not write the headlines that top their stories.

Now, add to that fact another sad reality: Many readers never make it past the headline when they are scanning a newspaper. Then there are readers who struggle to make sense of a story that — in their eyes — seems to clash with the contents of the headline.

All of this underlines the importance of copy-desk pros writing good headlines.

This brings me to a recent story here in East Tennessee that ticked off a GetReligion reader. I mention this topic because the “mistake” made in this case is one that readers ask me about rather frequently. At the heart of this issue is a simple fact: When most Americans (and some journalists fall into this category) see the word “priest,” they automatically assume that this is a reference to a Roman Catholic priest.

In this case, the headline pointed toward events that could have painful and even fatal consequences. Thus, the stakes were high in this particular headline, which stated:

Infected Chattanooga priest may have exposed others to coronavirus, church says

Now, if you read the actual Knoxville News Sentinel story, the confusion was cleared up quickly — by the second paragraph.

A Chattanooga priest who has tested positive for COVID-19, the disease caused by the new coronavirus, may have inadvertently exposed others when he officiated a wedding, served communion and led a staff meeting, his church announced. …

Father Brad Whitaker, rector of St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Chattanooga, fell ill shortly after returning from a conference held by the Consortium of Endowed Episcopal Parishes, the church said in a statement. At least six people who attended the conference, which ran from Feb. 19-22 in Louisville, Kentucky, have since tested positive for COVID-19, according to the consortium.

So the basic question is this: How many people read that headline and assumed this was a Catholic priest?


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In Atlanta newspaper story on fired Catholic music minister, the villain and bad doctrine are clear

A reader sent us a link to a piece in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution on a Catholic church music minister who was fired, presumably because he married another man.

The reader pointed out that the piece appears to be a personal column, which gives the writer some leeway in voicing opinions. At the same time, though, “the way it’s written is a real gray area.”

In other words, it looks and feels in a lot of ways like news reporting, not an op-ed. On the other hand, it’s clear from the beginning that the writer has chosen a hero and a villain in this scenario. The hero is the fired music minister. The villain is any church that would have a problem with two consenting adults of the same gender falling in love and exchanging wedding vows.

From a journalistic perspective, the question is: Does the writer — regardless of whether her article is opinion writing or news reporting or a hybrid combination of both — have any responsibility to demonstrate a basic understanding of Catholic theology?

More on that question in a moment.

First, though, let’s start with the top of the story. It gives a pretty clear idea of the writer’s point of view:

CHATTANOOGA, TENN. — If this were any other year, John Thomas McCecil would be busy prepping for another weekend service, planning Advent, the annual children’s program and Christmas Eve celebration near here at Our Lady of the Mount Catholic Church.

But after a decade as the minister of music at the church in Lookout Mountain, Georgia, and in a sad turn of events a few months ago, John Thomas says he was forced to resign because, in church parlance, he was in a “questionable” relationship.

Let that simmer for a moment.

If you’re still wondering what that means exactly, here it is in more simple terms: John Thomas is happily married to a man. He’s gay.

That fact was known by church administrators at Our Lady, and as far as he could discern, no one really cared.


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Listening to Chattanooga voices, in the mosque and public square (but not in churches)

From the beginning, the New York Times reporters probing the shootings in Chattanooga have shown a willingness to dig into the religious questions linked to the troubled life and mind of Mohammod Youssuf Abdulazeez. They have not blown questions about the role of Islam out of proportion, but they have certainly not ignored them, either.

The journalistic task at hand was simplified by the faith-related blog materials that Abdulazeez left behind that, to some degree, described his state of mind. Meanwhile, the young man's personal struggles were right there in the public record. There was no need for speculation, other than covering the actions of authorities who were trying to find out if Abdulazeez had any online ties to violent forms of Islam.

As it should, this research led to the local mosque to see how this Muslim community -- deep in Bible Belt territory -- was reacting. The Times did an fine job with that story, as well. And the reactions of believers in the faith community on the other side of this drama? Hold that thought.

With the mosque story, the regional context (just down the road from my Oak Ridge home) was crucial:

CHATTANOOGA, Tenn. -- Just beyond a massive strip mall, with its Best Buy and Hobby Lobby, Abdul Baasit, the imam at the Islamic Society of Greater Chattanooga, found himself preaching on Friday about a nightmare.
It was Eid al-Fitr, at the end of Ramadan, normally a time of gift-giving and carnival celebration. But the party that had been planned was canceled: A man who had attended prayer services at the center’s mosque killed four Marines on Thursday. And Mr. Baasit, 48, was trying to help Chattanooga’s Muslim faithful cope with their grief over the deaths, and their fear of reprisal. ...


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In Chattanooga, journalists ask the obvious question: What role did gunman's religion play?

The banner headline in today's Chattanooga Times Free Press tells the story:

'Nightmare For Our City'

Here we go again: One more mass shooting. One more devastated community. One more dead gunman who leaves a plethora of unanswered questions in his wake.

Right beside its main story on the four U.S. Marines killed in Thursday's rampage, a Times Free Press sidebar asks the obvious question:

Who was Mohammad Youssef Abdulazeez?

But at this point, even the exact spelling of Abdulazeez's first name is unclear: Federal authorities and records gave at least four variations, as The Associated Press reported. While the Times Free Press goes with "Mohammad," and AP uses "Muhammad," The New York Times identifies him as "Mohammod."

The spelling issue aside, however, the suspect's Muslim background and potential ties to Islamic extremists is drawing major media attention, and rightfully so. Much of that coverage relies on a blog tied to Abdulazeez.

This is the headline on a Washington Post report:


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