One of my favorite Godbeat pros is Peter Smith of the Louisville Courier-Journal in Kentucky.

Besides his outstanding work for the dead-tree edition, Smith produces the exceptional Faith & Works blog, focused on the diverse religious scene in Kentucky and Indiana.

Nonetheless, Smith’s stories (like those of a few other religion writers) often frustrate me, namely because they leave so little to critique. In most cases, after reading one of his reports, there’s not much to say except: Great job! Again! Keep it up! (That’s not exactly a recipe for clicks and comments — the manna of the blogging world.)

So I come to you this evening to pull a nice trend piece by Smith out of my guilt file.

This story, published a week ago (an eternity by GetReligion standards), examines the changing demographic makeup of houses of worship in post-Cleaver America:

When Steven Schafer looks out over his small congregation on Sunday mornings, he sees a picture of modern American family life.

About half of the congregants come from what was once typical — families headed by married couples.

The rest include “a lot of single parents, a lot of divorced parents, a lot of grandparents raising their kids,” said Schafer, pastor of Ridgewood Baptist Church in Pleasure Ridge Park. “The traditional family is not the norm.” That presents a major challenge to churches, which are struggling to respond to the revolution in how Americans structure their families, households and romances.

Nearly half of American adults today aren’t married — whether never-married, currently divorced, separated or widowed, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

Married couples account for just under half of all American households — down from 71 percent in 1970, according to the U.S. Census.

In some ways, this is one of those stories that makes readers go, “Duh!” That’s because we all know the days of Ward and June Cleaver are history, if they ever really existed. But putting into words — and into context — our changing times provides a valuable service for readers. It helps us better understand ourselves, and isn’t that a key function of quality journalism?

There’s a ton of information in this story, including this helpful context:

Many modern families involve situations that churches have traditionally held as morally suspect at best — such as divorce, unwed parenthood and living together outside of marriage.

In that sense, gays and lesbians — whose role has been fiercely debated in churches — have only borne the brunt of the far broader wrangling over how to respond to revolutions in sexual and family life.

What I like about this story: Its in-depth treatment of an important but little-covered subject. Its conversational tone. Its mix of experts and “real people” quoted. Its use of lots of specific examples.

After finishing the piece, my only question was whether the 1,500-word story covered too much ground. The report tackles young people waiting longer to marry, divorced people struggling to fit in, young evangelicals having sex before marriage, etc., etc., etc. Part of me wished the Courier-Journal had done a five-part series focusing on various specific aspects of a large, complicated picture — instead of squeezing everything into a single story.

Then again, I know news holes are tight, and I appreciate the effort put into this wide-ranging report.

My overall critique is concise: Great job! Again! Keep it up!

Image via Shutterstock

When I was younger and trimmer, I played organized softball.

In high school, I joined a co-ed team from the McDonald’s where I flipped frozen patties and endured grumpy customers. That league exposed this sheltered Church of Christ kid to cursing, drinking and the full spectrum of human imperfection.

In other words, it prepared me quite nicely for the church league where I suited up after college. My coach, a member of my home congregation, inevitably ended up red-faced as he argued call after call with the umpires. My team did not consume anything stronger than Coca-Cola (at least where anyone could witness it), but our Roman Catholic opponents generally showed up with coolers full of adult beverages.

These memories came flooding back as I read a St. Louis Post-Dispatch story this week. The top of the story by Godbeat pro Tim Townsend:

The Tuesday night scene couldn’t have been more American — teams from the local churches, decked in matching T-shirts, faced each other on the softball field as their fellow congregants cheered from the bleachers.

But in the last two weeks, this league of six church softball teams shrank to five when the pastors of three of the churches told one of the member churches that their teams would no longer take the field against that church’s team.

The problem was not pine tar or steroids, it was the sexual orientation of the new pastor of St. John United Church of Christ.

“Three congregations said they were uncomfortable playing our team because I am their pastor and I am an out bisexual person,” said the Rev. James Semmelroth Darnell, 27, “which is surprising because I don’t even play.”

Not surprisingly, this is one of those stories that immediately gained national legs. Religion News Service distributed Townsend’s piece, while news organizations ranging from The Associated Press to Fox News to the Huffington Post assigned reporters to it.

The Post-Dispatch report — a concise, 500-word daily news story — did a nice job of allowing the various parties in the dispute to explain their positions in their own words:

Bethel Baptist Church in nearby Lonedell is among the churches whose pastors didn’t want to compete against the team from Darnell’s church.

“We believe that God’s word speaks clearly about boundaries, and that lifestyle is outside of those boundaries,” the Rev. Ben Kingston, Bethel Baptist pastor, said Tuesday evening from behind the backstop.

Really, such balance in a news story is basic journalism. But regular readers of GetReligion know how often that mainstream media reports fail to reach that standard, particularly on this specific subject matter.

In one case, the St. Louis newspaper did allow Darnell to make a claim without seeking a response:

Darnell said he had also felt some tension in the local ministerial alliance, a collection of pastors, but that the members there had decided to allow him to remain despite his sexual orientation.

“They decided they would benefit from an alternate viewpoint,” he said.

In the local newspaper, the St. Clair Missourian, the alliance president took issue with that characterization.

If I can be nitpicky (and I guess I can since that’s what we do here at GetReligion), I wish the Post-Dispatch story had tackled a few additional questions, including:

— The United Church of Christ left after three teams in the six-team league raised objections. I wish the story had included the names of the other two churches in the league (those that presumably did not seek the other church’s ouster) and their reactions to the controversy.

— I wish the writer had included more background on the theological beliefs concerning homosexuality of the churches involved. I’m assuming the three Baptist churches mentioned are Southern Baptist, but the story does not specify that.

— I would have welcomed more detail on what the pastor means by “bisexual.” Is he a practicing bisexual? Does he believe in a monogamous, committed relationship with one other person — male or female?

— Perhaps most importantly, I wish the piece had included more depth on the softball league itself and its mission. Are there any alcoholics, porn addicts or divorced people in the league? What sins are players not allowed to commit if they wish to remain in this league? If I recall correctly, the Bible says that Jesus ate with tax collectors and prostitutes. Why do the concerned pastors believe he would not play softball with a bisexual pastor?

The only other story that I wanted to highlight on this subject was the AP report. This line in the AP report stood out to me:

Darnell said he has reached out to Church of Christ congregations and other sympathetic churches in the area about forming their own softball league, or at least playing in a tournament.

Um, as a lifelong member of the Church of Christ, I can assure the AP that the Church of Christ and the United Church of Christ are not the same. In general, their views on homosexuality would be strikingly different. That’s a pretty major error for a national wire story.

Image via Shutterstock

Since it’s Nuns Day at GetReligion …

Seriously, one of my bookmarks for religion news is the New York Times’ Religion and Belief section. While browsing that section today, I came across a feature on “Sister Dolores,” the principal of an all-girls Catholic high school in Brooklyn, N.Y.

I clicked the link and found myself enjoying the story of this strict but trusted nun:

One of the first lessons a Fontbonne girl learns is that no good can come from crossing Sister Dolores.

Sister Dolores, the principal of Fontbonne Hall Academy, an all-girls Catholic high school in Brooklyn, once jumped out of her 2004 Toyota Corolla, confiscated a girl’s beer, emptied it into the gutter, explained that as a certified alcohol counselor she could have the girl arrested, then waited while the shellshocked child called her parents to report herself.

By the time the girls are seniors, they understand that when Sister Dolores says they are free to choose their own graduation dress, she means if it passes inspection.

Starting in early May, they bring them to the principal’s office and change in the bathroom.

“Let me see you,” Sister Dolores said to Alessandra Fodera, who will be attending Georgetown University in the fall. “Turn around.”

The dresses cannot be strapless. Straps must be at least one and a half inches wide. Hems are to be one and a half inches off the floor. Shoes must be white and can be high heels, but not too high.

Gowns will absolutely not be off-white, diamond white, or eggshell white. Only white-white.

After reading the entire story, though, I had a different perspective.

I found myself frustrated at the giant religion ghost that the writer allowed to haunt the 1,200-word profile.

Two crucial questions about Sister Dolores go unasked (and, of course, unanswered): What does she believe? And why does she do what she does? Here is a story about a Catholic nun and a Catholic high school that mostly ignores the Catholic part (except for a jab or two at the end … more on that later).

As I reviewed the online presentation closer, I noticed an “On Education” designation at the top. That explains a fair amount about the approach. Here we have an education writer presenting the story through that lens. That makes sense, I suppose. At the same time, our mantra at GetReligion is that ghosts linked to the power of religious faith haunt all kinds of stories, from education to business to sports. That certainly appears to be the case here.

This profile skirts right at the edges of Sister Dolores’ faith, without ever delving into the big questions of her life and ministry:

For 39 years she has taught the fourth grade Sunday school class at St. Francis Xavier in Park Slope and runs the annual Christmas pageant there. The night before the play, she irons all the costumes, Joseph’s headpiece, Mary’s veil, the angels’ white robes.

When the final curtain goes down, Sister Dolores goes up and collects the straw scattered around the baby Jesus’ manger, stuffing it into a plastic bag to use again at the next year’s pageant.

On Monday nights, she has a private counseling practice. Any money she takes in — for her therapy sessions or the 60-hour weeks at Fontbonne — she turns over to her religious order, the Sisters of St. Joseph. In return, she receives a few-hundred dollar monthly stipend, which is what is meant by an oath of poverty.

At the end, the writer — whose format appears to be more of a column than a straight news account — reflects on Sister Dolores entering the convent “just as the church was being turned upside down.” Unfortunately, that little bombshell is dropped into the profile/feature/column/whatever without any explanation.

Then there’s a quick, unexplored mention of “the church’s glass ceiling”:

Given the range of possibilities available to women today, and the thickness of the church’s glass ceiling, it is unlikely that there are many more Sister Doloreses on the way.

Which makes it hard to imagine who there will be to iron Mary’s veil, inspect the seniors’ gowns, balance a multimillion-dollar school budget, look deep into boys’ souls and graduate 132 educated girls of good moral character, all for just a few hundred dollars a month.

Hmmmmm …

Top image via Shutterstock

This just in: a lengthy Associated Press editorial focusing on the culture wars and the Girl Scouts of the USA.

The only problem: AP inadvertently filed the 1,500-word analysis piece as a straightforward news story.

(Yes, I realize that I just three weeks ago defended AP against claims of widespread bias. But I did point out that some AP stories “need work, both in terms of their journalistic completeness and balance.” And man, does this piece out on the wire now “need work.”)

Regular GetReligion readers may recall my post back in February titled “Thin mints on thin ice?” That post dealt with the media storm over an Indiana lawmaker labeling the Girl Scouts a “radicalized organization.”

AP’s story, written by a New York-based national writer, concerns the Girl Scouts and Catholic bishops.

Let’s start right at the top:

NEW YORK (AP) — Long a lightning rod for conservative criticism, the Girl Scouts of the USA are now facing their highest-level challenge yet: An official inquiry by the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

At issue are concerns about program materials that some Catholics find offensive, as well as assertions that the Scouts associate with other groups espousing stances that conflict with church teaching. The Scouts, who have numerous parish-sponsored troops, deny many of the claims and defend their alliances.

The inquiry coincides with the Scouts’ 100th anniversary celebrations and follows a chain of other controversies.

From the cliche opening (“lightning rod for conservative criticism”) to the vague, unnamed critics, the lede pretty much sets the tone for the entire piece. This is a story where the critics will be mentioned frequently but rarely identified, and typically, their criticism will be followed by a named Girl Scout source refuting the outlandish claims (as the AP writer clearly sees them).

The news peg is this:

The new inquiry will be conducted by the bishops’ Committee on Laity, Marriage, Family Life and Youth. It will look into the Scouts’ “possible problematic relationships with other organizations” and various “problematic” program materials, according to a letter sent by the committee chairman, Bishop Kevin Rhoades of Fort Wayne, Ind., to his fellow bishops.

The bishops’ conference provided a copy of the letter to The Associated Press, but otherwise declined comment.

It does not help readers’ understanding that the bishops refused to comment. Nor does AP’s decision to quote so little of the letter benefit readers’ grasp of the specific nature of the complaints.

Throughout the piece, the side with concerns about the Girl Scouts is identified with terms such as these: “some conservatives,” “Catholic critics,” “critics” (at least three times), “most vehement critics,” “some critics” and “Christian conservatives.” Who are these people? It’s really hard to know based on the AP story.

But on the Girl Scout side, “recycled complaints” (the source of that is AP itself) are denied “repeatedly and categorically” by named sources and up high in the story:

Some of the concerns raised by Catholic critics are recycled complaints that have been denied by the Girl Scouts’ head office repeatedly and categorically. It says it has no partnership with Planned Parenthood, and does not take positions on sexuality, birth control and abortion.

“It’s been hard to get the message out there as to what is true when distortions get repeated over and over,” said Gladys Padro-Soler, the Girl Scouts’ director of inclusive membership strategies.

On the other side, scare quotes are used when a critic finally is mentioned by name nearly halfway through the story:

Mary Rice Hasson, a visiting fellow in Catholic studies at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, a conservative think tank in Washington, accuses McCarty of “whitewashing” Girl Scout programs and policies that struck some Catholics as counter to church teaching.

“They just repeated the Girl Scouts’ denials,” Hasson said. “Families’ concerns were minimized or ignored.”

Later, there’s this reference to the Boy Scouts of America (with no response from the Boy Scouts):

Even in the face of criticism, the Boys Scouts stand by their policy of excluding atheists and barring gays from leadership roles. The Girl Scouts have no such policies.

“When you have a leadership brand like Girl Scouts, it’s natural that we would have some critics,” said Chavez. “We’re proud of our inclusive approach because that is what has always made this organization strong.”

This story really is a train wreck filled with broad assertions and generalizations that favor one side. It lacks the kind of old-fashioned sourcing and attribution that characterize quality, unbiased journalism.

Photo via Flickr.

After one of the most incredible hitting performances in baseball history Tuesday night — including four home runs and a double — Josh Hamilton immediately gave credit to God.

The Texas Rangers slugger described his monumental performance as an “absolute blessing from above.”

Hamilton’s reference to his faith came as no surprise, of course, to anyone who has been paying attention.

I was curious, however, whether sports writers would allow the God angle to permeate their reports and columns on Hamilton’s feat — or permit ghosts to haunt their copy.

A quick survey reveals a mix of whiffs and solid contact (I focused on media outlets that don’t cover Hamilton every day):

• Swing and a miss: The Baltimore Sun — that newspaper that lands in GetReligion guru tmatt’s yard — took a big whack at the easy fastball:

There are few times when a visiting player comes to Camden Yards and puts on such a spectacular show that he turns the fans in his favor.

But Rangers slugger Josh Hamilton, the 1999 No. 1 overall pick who overcame the depths of drug and alcohol abuse to become one of the game’s top sluggers, orchestrated one of the most magnificent power displays in baseball history in the Rangers’ 10-3 win over the Orioles on Tuesday night.

But how did Hamilton overcome his demons? The Sun proceeded to tell a story completely devoid of any reference to Hamilton’s faith or even his quotes concerning his “blessing from above.”

• Solid single up the middle: Give The Associated Press credit for including Hamilton’s own words — his God talk — in its coverage:

“I think about what God’s done in my life, everything I did to mess it up,” he said. “To finally surrender everything and pursue that relationship with Christ on a daily basis and understanding when I don’t pursue it, I end up messing up. Understanding that what I’m doing and what God’s allowed me to do, coming back from everything I went through and allowing me to play the game at the level I play it, it’s pretty amazing to think about.”

And this:

Hamilton will become a free agent after this season, but that’s something he won’t deal with until the proper time.

“God gives me peace, man. I pray a lot. I want to be where he wants me to be,” Hamilton said. “If that’s Texas, I love it in Texas. And you know, I take it as far as day-to-day life, a one-day-at-a-time mentality not only for a recovering addict, but that should be for everybody. It’s one day at a time really because tomorrow is not promised and yesterday’s gone.”

• Long drive clears the fence in deep center: ESPN’s Jerry Crasnick nailed the story of Hamilton and the role of faith in his big night.

The top of Crasnick’s piece:

BALTIMORE — As a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, Texas Rangers outfielder Josh Hamilton has learned to abide by a relatively simple set of rules. He takes things one day at a time and lets his faith in Jesus Christ be a perpetual compass.

“I think about what God has done in my life, and everything I’ve done to mess it up,” Hamilton said late Tuesday night at Camden Yards. “What God has allowed me to do, to come back from everything I’ve been through and still be able to play the game at the level I play it — it’s pretty amazing to think about that.”

On those special occasions when Hamilton takes over the Home Run Derby at Yankee Stadium, or makes Baltimore fans who are so accustomed to dogging him stand up and cheer in unison, it’s time to look at the big picture. The casual fan has to marvel at a player who swings the bat with such ease and hits the ball so far, time after time. And the Rangers die-hard, who has more of a personal stake in Hamilton’s career path, can only guess what comes next and where his incredible story will end.

Hamilton treated a crowd of 11,263 to a show in Texas’ 10-3 victory Tuesday, setting an American League record with 18 total bases and becoming the 16th player in history to hit four home runs in a game.

A front-page expose by the New York Times on a television ministry’s lavish spending ought to be shocking reading, right?

Instead, a 2,200-word investigative piece published Sunday left me with a feeling of deja vu — as if I’d read it a few dozen times before. (Do the names Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker ring any bells?)

A friend commented:

I think the sad thing is that none of these completely insane details surprise me.

What she said!

In many circles, the term “televangelist” has become synonymous with shady finances. I interviewed a TV preacher one time who referred to himself as the “anti-televangelist” because he refuses to pitch for funds on air.

Whether the Times report is shocking or not, however, religion writer Erik Eckholm and the Old Gray Lady deserve kudos for taking advantage of recent lawsuits and internal turmoil at the Trinity Broadcasting Network to produce a nice piece of journalism. The story examines allegations of financial impropriety by the ministry and notes — to its credit — that questions concerning TBN’s spending date back four decades:

NEWPORT BEACH, Calif. — For 39 years, the Trinity Broadcasting Network has urged viewers to give generously and reap the Lord’s bounty in return.

The prosperity gospel preached by Paul and Janice Crouch, who built a single station into the world’s largest Christian television network, has worked out well for them.

Mr. and Mrs. Crouch have his-and-her mansions one street apart in a gated community here, provided by the network using viewer donations and tax-free earnings. But Mrs. Crouch, 74, rarely sleeps in the $5.6 million house with tennis court and pool. She mostly lives in a large company house near Orlando, Fla., where she runs a side business, the Holy Land Experience theme park. Mr. Crouch, 78, has an adjacent home there too, but rarely visits. Its occupant is often a security guard who doubles as Mrs. Crouch’s chauffeur.

The twin sets of luxury homes only hint at the high living enjoyed by the Crouches, inspirational television personalities whose multitudes of stations and satellite signals reach millions of worshipers across the globe. Almost since they started in the 1970s, the couple have been criticized for secrecy about their use of donations, which totaled $93 million in 2010.

Now, after an upheaval with Shakespearean echoes, one son in this first family of televangelism has ousted the other to become the heir apparent. A granddaughter, who was in charge of TBN’s finances, has gone public with the most detailed allegations of financial improprieties yet, which TBN has denied, saying its practices were audited and legal.

The most detailed allegations of financial improprieties yet. At the risk of sounding overly nitpicky, I’d love a source on that. Do long-term watchdogs agree that these are the most detailed allegations yet? If so, why not quote them by name?

A less pressing question: Why do the Crouches need separate mansions? Does one of them have a snoring problem? Unless I missed it, the story never explains the reason for the separate households.

While most of the story (rightly) focuses on the financial questions, a section of the piece tackles the prosperity gospel:

On the air, the Crouches combine uplifting talk with encouragement to give to the Lord, and so be repaid. This “prosperity gospel” is shared by several televangelists who appear on TBN. But many conventional Christian leaders regard it as a sham.

“Prosperity theology is a false theology,” said R. Albert Mohler Jr., president of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Ky. Between its message and its reputation for high spending, Mr. Mohler said, “TBN has been a huge embarrassment to evangelical Christianity for decades.” …

Janice Crouch, called “Mama” on the air, is known for her pink-tinged wigs, which look like huge swirls of cotton candy, and for talking emotionally about the Lord’s blessings. Mr. Crouch, or “Papa,” is relentlessly upbeat as he quotes flurries of Bible verses on signature programs like “Praise the Lord.”

Huge swirls of cotton candy. Wow — so accurate and clever at the same time. But I digress.

I’m torn on whether the piece needs more detailed information on the prosperity gospel itself. On the one hand, I think I know what Mohler is talking about. On the other hand, I wish the Times had given him more space to explain what he means by prosperity gospel and elaborate on why he views it as a false theology.

Now, it’s your turn, GetReligion readers, to read the full story and weigh in. Is the story fair? Does it answer the relevant journalistic questions? What issues or concerns did I miss?

Image via Shutterstock

Last September, as New York Yankees closer Mariano Rivera established himself as baseball’s all-time leader in career saves, a New York Daily News writer lamented that the media ignored a key part of what drove Rivera to greatness — his faith in God.

The writer, Bob Raissman, shared this anecdote to illustrate his point:

Moments after Mariano Rivera notched his 600th save in Seattle, Kimberly Jones held a Yankees Entertainment & Sports Network microphone in front of his face, asking the majestic one to explain the mystery of the cutter.

She wanted to know how he and the pitch had been so “dominant and durable” for so many years?

“God gave it (the cutter) to me,” Rivera said.

Jones followed up asking: “When you discovered that cutter by accident way back in 1997 did you have any idea what you and it would become?”

Rivera smiled at Jones before setting her straight.

“Again, I didn’t discover it,” he said. “It was given to me by the Lord.”

This week, Rivera suffered a season-ending — and career-threatening — injury that has dominated sports headlines. He has talked openly about his trust in “the Lord” as he plots his future. It has been interesting to see how various news reports have acknowledged and/or ignored such statements by Rivera.

I chuckled at this exchange about a minute into a video interview on ESPN’s New York website:

ESPN: “What makes you think you’ll be able to come back and be the way you were?”

Rivera: “Because I trust the Lord — I trust the Lord — and I trust what I’m capable of. So that’s the reason why I say that.”

ESPN: “All right, Mariano. Thank you very much.”

And by “All right, Mariano,” the reporter meant: “Get me out of here before I have to ask a follow-up question about religion that might get at the heart of who Rivera really is and what motivates him on the baseball mound and off.” Or maybe I’m the only one who heard that …

On the front page of today’s New York Times, there’s an ode to Rivera’s determination to come back from the injury with this headline:

For Rivera, Maestro of Ninth, Injury Is Not Final Symphony

The Times piece, somehow, manages to ignore terms such as God, faith and “the Lord” entirely. Readers can be updated, however, on Rivera’s dignified demeanor and defiance in the face of this injury.

A separate Times story in the sports section allows in — ever so briefly and without any context — some religious language from Rivera:

“Miracles happen, guys,” he said. “I’m O.K. I’m a positive man. I’m O.K. The only thing is I feel sorry I let down my teammates. But I’m O.K.”

In a column for Fox Sports before Rivera made clear his intention to play next year, baseball writer Ken Rosenthal suggested:

The injury almost certainly will sideline Rivera for the remainder of the season, a season that he had said might be his last. Surely he will not want his 18-year career to end this way, but Rivera, 42, is a man of immense faith. He may consider the injury a sign from above, accept his destiny and move on with his life.

The Associated Press quoted Rivera’s God talk in its coverage, including his reference to “Miracles happen” and this:

“I love to play the game. To me, I don’t think going out like this is the right way,” Rivera said. “I don’t want to retire because I got hurt in the way that it happened. I don’t think like that. With the strength of the Lord, I just have to continue.”

However, the AP provided no background information or context to help readers understand why Rivera might be referring to “the Lord” or why he might believe in miracles. ESPN, too, used such a quote with no details to explain it:

KANSAS CITY, Mo. — Get ready for One Mo Time.

“I am coming back,” Mariano Rivera said Friday afternoon in the New York Yankees’ clubhouse. “Put it down. Write it down in big letters. I’m not going down like this. God willing and given the strength, I’m coming back.”

Cutter, it seems, refers not only to Rivera’s famous pitch but also to the spin-and-run approach of so many sports reporters frightened by the ghost in the Yankees’ clubhouse.

NPR has launched a series of stories on losing faith, and Godbeat pro Barbara Bradley Hagerty’s piece on an atheist pastor gripped me from the beginning:

Teresa MacBain has a secret, one she’s terrified to reveal.

“I’m currently an active pastor and I’m also an atheist,” she says. “I live a double life. I feel pretty good on Monday, but by Thursday — when Sunday’s right around the corner — I start having stomachaches, headaches, just knowing that I got to stand up and say things that I no longer believe in and portray myself in a way that’s totally false.”

MacBain glances nervously around the room. It’s a Sunday, and normally she would be preaching at her church in Tallahassee, Fla. But here she is, sneaking away to the American Atheists’ convention in Bethesda, Md.

Her secret is taking a toll, eating at her conscience as she goes about her pastoral duties week after week — two sermons every Sunday, singing hymns, praying for the sick when she doesn’t believe in the God she’s praying to. She has had no one to talk to, at least not in her Christian community, so her iPhone has become her confessor, where she records her private fears and frustrations.

I kept reading, assuming that “Teresa MacBain” would be revealed as a pseudonym. After all, surely a pastor with such a “secret” would not share it with NPR using her real name, right? I recalled that first names such as “Adam” and “Jack” were used in 2010 when Religion News Service and our own esteemed tmatt reported on a study on unbelievers in pulpits.

Alas, as the story proceeds, I realized that the intro was a storytelling device — an outstanding one. It turns out that, in the course of her journey, MacBain has come out and revealed her lack of faith both to the atheists’ convention and, indirectly, to her church.

The story is told almost entirely from the perspective of the pastor, with the exception of input from her husband, who still believes but supports his wife:

But MacBain did go home. People shunned her. Job interviews were canceled. The Humanists of Florida Association offered to pay her salary for a year, but there’s no guarantee. Only two of MacBain’s friends called her and took her to lunch. Meanwhile, her family was a refuge, even if they didn’t all agree with her new views.

“I believe in God,” says her husband, Ray. “And to be honest, I pray for her every night, I got friends praying for her.”

But he says he adores his wife and defends her right to disbelieve. “That’s why I spent 23 years in the Army. That’s why I’m still a police officer. We have freedom of speech and freedom of thought. And God never forced anybody to believe, so who am I to step up?”

If the piece has a weakness, it’s the total lack of perspective from the church members who suddenly discover that their pastor is an atheist. I’d love to know their reaction, both to the news of their former pastor’s unbelief and how she chose to reveal it — to an atheist convention as opposed to the congregation itself.

Religion News Service (which received a $50,000 grant from the Stiefel Freethought Foundation to bolster its coverage of atheists) also covered MacBain’s “coming out party,” as the news service described it.

Like NPR, RNS did not talk to anyone from MacBain’s congregation. But to its credit, RNS did quote someone from another church whose pastor revealed his lack of faith:

Aus’ congregation, unaware of his change of heart until learning about it on television — on Palm Sunday, no less — decided to disband. Their final service was Easter Sunday.

“There was anger, yes,” said Joe Vingle, a member of Aus’ Texas church. “Some people had been with Mike for 20 years or longer. Those were the ones that were really hurt. They are feeling that everything they were taught by him is a lie.”

But Vingle said there was also understanding. “He is still a friend and I am interested in seeing where this takes him,” he said.

Here at GetReligion, we believe in ghosts.

We don’t like them, but we know they exist.

As tmatt explained in the very beginning (of this weblog, not the world):

Day after day, millions of Americans who frequent pews see ghosts when they pick up their newspapers or turn on television news.

They read stories that are important to their lives, yet they seem to catch fleeting glimpses of other characters or other plots between the lines. There seem to be other ideas or influences hiding there.

One minute they are there. The next they are gone. There are ghosts in there, hiding in the ink and the pixels. Something is missing in the basic facts or perhaps most of the key facts are there, yet some are twisted. Perhaps there are sins of omission, rather than commission.

A lot of these ghosts are, well, holy ghosts. They are facts and stories and faces linked to the power of religious faith. Now you see them. Now you don’t. In fact, a whole lot of the time you don’t get to see them. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Which leads us to the subject to this post: a heartwrenching Denver television report on a boy suffering from a painful — and potentially fatal — skin disease.

Here’s the written summary that accompanies the video:

Ever wonder what’s your purpose in life? Why were you put on this earth?

It’s a question many of us contemplate at some point in our lives, but probably not until we’re a little older.

A very special little boy named William may not be long for this earth. He has a genetic skin disease that makes him live with pain every day.

But his mother says, William is definitely here for a purpose.

Libby Weaver tells William’s story in the video clip.

Purpose in life? Reason for being put on earth? The nauseating cliches of local TV journalism aside, anybody think those questions might have the potential to elicit responses that are, well, linked to the power of religious faith?

That was the hunch of the reader who sent the link to GetReligion:

It’s clear that some religion, probably a form of Christianity, is what gives this family strength, but that whole part is kept vague.

Exactly.

In the four-minute report, the mother confirms the reader’s suspicion with this soundbite:

I do really believe that my faith has helped and that God does give each of us the grace for what he puts us in.

Note to TV station: That kind of quote might merit some followup questions.

For example: Can you please describe your faith? Do you belong to a congregation or faith community? What do you believe? Do you believe in life after death? How does your faith sustain you? What purpose might God have for putting your son in this situation?

You know, questions like that — the kind that scare away ghosts.

Ready. Set. Smile.

Joel Osteen is taking the nation’s capital by media storm, drawing a Beltway-size dose of attention in advance of a big event at the Washington Nationals’ ballpark this weekend.

The big headline seems to be Osteen’s statement to CNN that he considers Mitt Romney, who is Mormon, a “brother in Christ.” Godbeat pros Eric Marrapodi and Dan Gilgoff feature a handful of Osteen nuggets in an informative and entertaining post on CNN’s Belief Blog.

In a profile tied to the event, Washington Post religion writer Michelle Boorstein explores the Osteen phenomenon on today’s front page:

Come sunset Saturday, Nationals Park will be full not with baseball fans but with 41,000 devotees of another American phenomenon: Joel Osteen.

Second base will become the main stage for the wavy-haired, ever-smiling Texan, whose cast for the 2 1/2-hour “America’s Night of Hope” includes 100 singers and musicians, 1,000 ticket-ripping volunteers, and a six-person social media team to keep Twitter and Facebook buzzing.

Yet, one of the largest religious events in the region since Pope Benedict XVI’s 2008 visit is coming together pretty much outside of the organized church world.

With a few exceptions, there will be no church bus groups or pastor promotions, and many — if not most — of the people who paid $15 for a ticket didn’t hear about the event through their church, because they don’t go to one.

A reader who shared the link with GetReligion commented:

When I saw that bit about Osteen being the biggest religious event since Benedict, my teeth started grinding (how many heads of state visit Osteen, or hierarchs, or professors, or actual poor people, or…). However, I’m glad that I read through it all, because I learned more about how Osteen got started and felt that both sides were given their due.

A colleague quipped:

Notice how many times “Jesus” shows up in this story. And this is not a criticism!

(For the record, “Jesus” does not make an appearance in this story.)

Boorstein’s story, which I enjoyed, does a nice job of capturing the essence of Osteen and explaining why his followers love him and his critics accuse him of “cotton-candy theology,” as one source put it in a 2004 profile of Osteen that I wrote for The Associated Press.

Particularly given the space constraints of a daily newspaper article — this one runs roughly 900 words — the Post catches the appropriate high points of Osteen’s rise to fame and his place in modern American religion.

A revealing section of the piece:

With a few exceptions, there will be no church bus groups or pastor promotions, and many — if not most — of the people who paid $15 for a ticket didn’t hear about the event through their church, because they don’t go to one.

They are probably among the 10 million people who Osteen’s group says watch his weekly TV broadcast, the crown jewel of a mega­ministry built on the concept of a totally positive, in-your-corner God whose list of “don’ts” is pretty short: Don’t lose hope!

The show flashes ads for the monthly “inspirational” events more frequently than it flashes verses from the Bible. …

People love him for the same reason that many others, pastors in particular, shun him: his near-total silence on the subjects of sin, suffering and detailed doctrine.

“My message isn’t real religious,” Osteen said in an interview. “I’ve stayed good in my sweet spot, which is encouraging people, and hope.”

(“Sweet spot.” Event at a baseball stadium. Nice soundbite.)

Later, readers hear from a pastor favorable to Osteen and a theologian not impressed with him. Also quoted is a “non-churchgoing Catholic” who plans to attend the event:

James Bailey, a leadership professor at George Washington University’s business school who will be at the ballpark Saturday, found himself drawn into the Osteen vortex about a year ago while flipping through TV channels one Sunday morning.

“He isn’t heavy-handed with the practical elements: Do this or that, or you’re going to hell,” said Bailey, a non-churchgoing Catholic. “There was a light touch. It’s like, ‘This is about your relationship with God. All I’m doing here is helping you find that relationship.’?”

After providing details on the extraordinary growth of Osteen’s church and television ministry, the Post notes:

He’s sold a million books in Muslim Indonesia. Regular Sunday viewers and attendees at the ballpark will be Jewish, Hindu or the kind of people who check “none” when asked to identify their religion.

Osteen’s success says much about American religion in 2012, when “church” can be a bunch of strangers online who may not even be Christian and when one of the few pastors who can fill a baseball stadium preaches about love, not doctrine.

That’s fascinating information to me. I’d love to know more about the people drawn to Osteen. If I have one complaint, it’s that the Post doesn’t quote more Osteenites about why he appeals to them and what they believe. In particular, I’d love to hear from one of the Jews or Hindus referenced. I do know that Boorstein tweeted last week in search of potential interviewees planning to attend the D.C. event.

All in all, though, I found much to like about the Post story. As always, GetReligion readers are free to disagree. If you decide to leave a comment, however, please be sure to include a smiley face. Just kidding, although I just can’t resist.