Baptists

, , , , , , , , ,

With their annual meeting canceled, RNS (and others) try to assess Southern Baptist conflicts

, , , , , , , , ,

Typically, on the second or third week of June, the Southern Baptist Convention would be having its annual meeting. Had 2020 been a normal year, that meeting would be finishing up today.

Of course it was cancelled because of the coronavirus crisis. With the current riots going on in cities across America, I bet that SBC leaders are privately thanking God they’re not meeting.

Can you imagine what a draw that would be for some protestors; several thousand mostly white Southern Baptists congregating at the Orange County Convention Center?

Not only is there ferment on the streets, there’s also unrest within the denomination. Longtime RNS reporter Adelle Banks just gave us a thorough look at the pivot Baptists are having to make, due to current events. Her June 4 piece about the race conversation within the 14.5-million-member denomination concentrated on the rifts that remain from the Civil War era.

Please stay with me during the lengthy intro:

(RNS) — The Southern Baptist Convention will not hold its annual meeting as it regularly does each June. But issues its members have long grappled with — including race and the roles of women — continue to be points of controversy in the nation’s largest Protestant denomination.

In December, Founders Ministries, a neo-Calvinist evangelical group made up primarily of Southern Baptists, premiered a documentary called “By What Standard?: God’s Word, God’s Rule.”

The film includes selective footage of discussions around last year’s meeting about whether women should preach, juxtaposed with Founders Ministries head Tom Ascol speaking of motherhood as “the highest calling.” Much of the almost two-hour film that has had some 60,000 views online chronicles the passage of resolutions at the 2019 meeting, from one on “the evil of sexual abuse” to another on “critical race theory and intersectionality.”

Two months after the film’s release, the Conservative Baptist Network was founded, calling itself an alternative for dissatisfied Southern Baptists who might otherwise leave the denomination or stay and remain silent.


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

Journalism cancels its moral voice: What does this mean for Catholic news? For religion news?

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

I have always been fascinated with the concept that journalism functions as a moral watchdog on our society. As someone who spent most of his career at two New York tabloids (15 years at the New York Post, two others at the rival Daily News), reportage and story selection revolved heavily around morality.

A lot of it mirrored traditional religious morality.

Editors and reporters never used that language to describe their work, of course.

They still reported both sides of the story and gave people who were the subject of said story the chance to rebuke accusations. Whether it was a news account about an unfaithful politician (former New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer and former Congressman Anthony Weiner spring to mind), a Wall Street executive who embezzled money or a regular guy who shot and killed a convenient store clerk over a few dollars, if you broke one of the Ten Commandments then you had a very good chance of being splashed all over page one.

ProPublica, one of my favorite investigative news sites, has a mission statement that sums up this philosophy very well:

To expose abuses of power and betrayals of the public trust by government, business, and other institutions, using the moral force of investigative journalism to spur reform through the sustained spotlighting of wrongdoing.

Where does this morality come from? It is rooted primarily in Judeo-Christian values, something that helped form American society during what is now called The Great Awakening.

News coverage — be it about politics, culture or religion — is largely made up of crimes (in the legal sense) or lapses in judgement (in a moral one). But the news media has changed in the Internet age, primarily because of social media. Facebook, Twitter and TikTok, to name just three, allows users — everyday people — to pump out content. That content can take many forms — from benign observations to what’s called hot takes — for all to read and see.

Truth, fact checking and context are not important. What matters are likes and followers. What we have now is something some have called “The Great Awokening” and it appears to have forever transformed our political discourse and the journalism that tries to report on it.

Mainstream news organizations, in their quest for clicks amid hope of figuring out a new business model, now mirror the content we all see on social media platforms.


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

When covering riots and flames, it's wise to seek veteran voices from black churches

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

It was impossible to continue business as usual in a seminary classroom in the spring of 1992, as flames and violence spread through parts of Los Angeles.

This was especially true while team-teaching a seminar blending studies of the Old Testament prophets with moral and spiritual signals drawn from contemporary news and entertainment media. In this particular seminar at Denver Seminary, half of the future pastors were black and half were white.

Old Testament prophets? Hear a few words from Jeremiah 22:

Hear the word of the Lord, O King of Judah sitting on the throne of David — you, and your servants, and your people who enter these gates. Thus says the Lord: Act with justice and righteousness, and deliver from the hand of the oppressor anyone who has been robbed. And do no wrong or violence to the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place. … (If) you will not heed these words, I swear by myself, says the Lord, that this house shall become a desolation.

Our leader, the late Haddon Robinson — one of the greatest homiletics professors ever — approved the following assignment, as we approached the first Sunday during the riots. We asked each white student to contact a black pastor, seeking insights into the sermon preached that Sunday. We asked black students to contact white pastors with the same goal.

I thought of that assignment while reading waves of news coverage of the protests and riots — note that the distinction — after the death of George Floyd, his neck under a white Minneapolis police officer’s knee. I also remembered that seminar in 2015, standing in my front yard watching smoke and flames in the night sky over Baltimore.

It’s impossible to do justice to the many religious themes and images in the events — peaceful and violent — linked to Floyd’s death, from the many protestors kneeling in prayer (sometimes with police) to rioters painting obscene curses on historic sanctuaries.

But we can see one constant that journalists should remember under these circumstances: The voices of the black church will be there — somewhere — and if you seek them out, you will find words, images and ideas that are crucial to those building coalitions seeking justice and change. And when it’s time to heal and clean up, look for religious folks of all kinds — black, white, whatever. They will be there, day after day.


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

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.


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

In COVID-19 lockdown, should churches perform baptisms, and how?

, , , , , , ,

THE QUESTION:

With lockdowns in place, should U.S. churches do baptisms, and how?

THE RELIGION GUY’S ANSWER:

American religious congregations are implementing all sorts of accommodations during the COVID-19 crisis. Most are streaming services online to replace in-person worship till reopening is allowed. Under these conditions, many Protestant groups are allowing viewers to take Communion remotely by themselves at home during streamed services, which is not feasible for Catholic Mass.

Catholic priest Tim Pelc of St. Ambrose Church in Grosse Pointe Park, Michigan, even administered holy water via a squirt gun through car windows! And speaking of water …

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Fayetteville, Ark., affiliated with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, follows the ancient custom of baptizing new members as part of the Easter Eve vigil. This year’s annual observance could not occur due to COVID. Now Pastor Clint Schnekloth is preparing to conduct the postponed baptisms during a live-streamed service, most likely on Pentecost Sunday, May 31. He hopes the video feed can allow close-ups of participants so members of the local congregation, and family and friends who live elsewhere, can “feel as if they are there.”

But how do we keep “safe” and honor the need for “social distancing,” Schnekloth wondered. He shared his thinking in a blog post for patheos.com. The first aspect to consider is that while some churches practice full immersion of the body (see below), Lutherans are among those who baptize infants or adult converts by pouring water three times over the candidate’s head. This occurs while pronouncing the triune names of the divine Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in accord with Jesus’ “great commission” in Matthew 28:19.

Schnekloth figures the only people allowed in the church building will be the pastor, those to be baptized, and minimum participants, all carefully spaced throughout the sanctuary. Each candidate in turn will come forward with the parents and any godparents to receive the sacrament at the font of water. After a baptism, the pastor will thoroughly wash his hands before the next one.

To be extra careful, the pastor and others may wear masks throughout, and perhaps a family member will conduct the actual baptism while the pastor stands apart.


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

The New Yorker profiles a disgraced missionary and comes to a surprising conclusion

, , , , , , , ,

Many of you may remember a story that broke last summer about a disgraced evangelical missionary who faces a lawsuit in Uganda for practicing medicine at a quasi-clinic where numerous children died. Complicating the matter was how many of these children were hopelessly malnourished and gravely ill when they were brought to her in the first place.

I wrote about Renée Bach’s situation here at GetReligion last August while everyone was ripping into her for being a white woman trying to save black African babies. I thought the amount of venom directed against this woman was over the top in that she didn’t have to take these kids on at all. The parents of these kids had other medical choices in Jinja, the city on Lake Victoria in which Bach’s clinic was set up. Jinja is Uganda’s second-largest city, so we’re not talking about a hamlet here.

So when I heard that the New Yorker had written about this story on the whole matter last month, I figured this would be another screamer of a piece ripping up folks who go to Africa for evangelistic reasons.

Instead, I found a nuanced piece by Ariel Levy, a Jewish writer who brought her faith into the picture to give a whole different read as to why a young Christian woman set up a health clinic, called Serving His Children, over there in the first place. I started digging into who Levy is and found some pretty surprising stuff.

More on her in a moment. First, the story. This section is long, but essential:

Twalali was one of more than a hundred babies who died at Serving His Children between 2010 and 2015. The facility began not as a registered health clinic but as the home of Renée Bach — who was not a doctor but a homeschooled missionary, and who had arrived in Uganda at the age of nineteen and started an N.G.O. with money raised through her church in Bedford, Virginia. She’d felt called to Africa to help the needy, and she believed that it was Jesus’ will for her to treat malnourished children. Bach told their stories on a blog that she started. “I hooked the baby up to oxygen and got to work,” she wrote in 2011. “I took her temperature, started an IV, checked her blood sugar, tested for malaria, and looked at her HB count.”

In January, 2019, that blog post was submitted as evidence in a lawsuit filed against Bach and Serving His Children in Ugandan civil court.


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

New podcast: Coronavirus crisis claims life of NYC doctor who had a 'calling,' not just a job

, , , , , , , , ,

Some people talk about their “jobs” and their “careers.”

People who discuss this topic in faith-based terms will say that they have “vocations” or “callings.”

How do you know the difference between these two ways of thinking?

That was the subject that loomed in the background this week when “Crossroads” host Todd Wilken and I discussed news coverage of the suicide of Dr. Lorna M. Breen, medical director of the emergency room at New York-Presbyterian Allen Hospital. The final weeks of her life were dominated by the coronavirus crisis since — in addition to her work at the center of the New York City crisis — she contracted the disease, beat it and then went back to the ER.

The hook for the podcast (click here to tune that in) was my post: “Faith played major role in life of New York ER doctor who took her own life: What was it?” A fine New York Times story about her death featured moving testimonies about her leadership and self-sacrifice during this emergency, including her own efforts to increase safety for her team. Then, way down in the story, there was this:

Aside from work, Dr. Breen filled her time with friends, hobbies and sports, friends said. She was an avid member of a New York ski club and traveled regularly out west to ski and snowboard. She was also a deeply religious Christian who volunteered at a home for older people once a week, friends said.

The faith reference — with its connection to her volunteer work with the elderly — was like a door that opened for a second and then closed.

Nothing to see here. Move along.

Note that the “friends said” attributions are plural. Apparently several people who knew Breen thought that her faith was linked, at the very least, to her volunteer work. I think it’s safe to say she was volunteering her services as a doctor, as a kind of companion and healer (in several senses of that word).


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

Dawn of the dead: Faith-based colleges face challenges even bigger than coronavirus

, , , , , , , , , ,
Dawn of the dead: Faith-based colleges face challenges even bigger than coronavirus

Every week or so, John Mark Reynolds does something that presidents of academic institutions rarely do -- he cleans his office at Saint Constantine School.

This isn't a symbolic gesture in an age of ominous trends, and now a global pandemic, that threaten private education. Reynolds always takes his turn -- with other members of his team -- cleaning administration offices at this classical school in Houston.

"We have no administrators who are just administrators. Everyone teaches. Everyone shares many of the jobs that need to get done," said Reynolds, reached at his "sheltering in place" home office. "We have a maintenance team, but we all help out. The first lady and I plan to water some plants later today. …

"We call this the economy of small."

Saint Constantine is a K-16 Orthodox Christian school, which means it offers four years of college credits. College tuition is $9,000 per year.

"Our whole model was created to survive the collapse of liberal arts education, while striving to preserve the core of liberal arts education through an Oxford-style tutorial system," said Reynolds. "This pandemic is only exposing the weaknesses of what was already a business model fraught with peril."

College educators have long known that painful challenges were coming in 2025, due to falling birth rates and the end of high millennial-generation enrollments.

Now, the coronavirus crisis is forcing students and parents to face troubling realities. A study by McKinsey & Company researchers noted: "Hunkering down at home with a laptop … is a world away from the rich on-campus life that existed in February."

What happens next? The study noted: "In the virus-recurrence and pandemic-escalation scenarios, higher-education institutions could see much less predictable yield rates (the percentage of those admitted who attend) if would-be first-year students decide to take a gap year or attend somewhere closer to home (and less costly) because of the expectation of longer-term financial challenges for their families."


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

Were some key quotes accurate? Concerning Jerry Falwell's anger at The New York Times

, , , , , , , , ,

As long as there is a Donald Trump, then Jerry Falwell, Jr., will be the face of Christian higher education for editors at The New York Times and elite media in the blue-zip-code media in the Northeast.

This is sad, since the coronavirus crisis — along with life after Millennial-era enrollments — is creating a wave of important local, regional and national stories about private education, including Christian higher education. Hold that thought, because tomorrow’s “Crossroads” podcast is dedicated to that topic.

But back to Falwell and the Times.

Faithful readers may remember a recent GetReligion post — “Rank these stories: Falwell rolls dice with virus or potential collapse of some small colleges?” — in which I chided the Great Gray Lady for its familiar Falwell obsessions. Here is how that piece opened:

What we have here are two stories about Christian higher education during the coronavirus crisis.

One is set in a rather remote part of America, but it involves — kind of — Citizen Donald Trump. The other is a national-level story with news hooks that will affect institutions (and thus newsrooms) in several hundred communities spread out from coast to coast.

So which of these two stories is grabbing national headlines, including chunks of time on TV news? That isn’t a very hard question, is it?

The critique included, logically enough, several chunks of the Times report that was so critical of Falwell. The fact that we did that resulted in GetReligion getting a letter from Liberty University threatening legal action.

What an interesting twist: GetReligion paired with the Times by the Falwell team because of material we published in a critique of the Trump-Falwell obsession at the Times. As it turns out, we were not alone, in terms of getting caught in that crossfire.


Please respect our Commenting Policy