Evangelicals

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Thinking about white evangelicals, COVID-19 vaccines and VERY popular headlines

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Thinking about white evangelicals, COVID-19 vaccines and VERY popular headlines

As the Delta Variant has caused COVID-19 to surge again in the United States, there’s been a flurry of attention paid to the share of Americans who have chosen to forgo the vaccine against the coronavirus. Trying to understand the causal factors that would lead to one not getting the inoculation seems to be the first task when it comes to finding ways to reduce vaccine hesitancy coast to coast.

One of the primary dimensions that news outlets seem to be focusing on is religion. One kind of headline is especially popular and examples are published nearly weekly — stating that evangelical Christians are the ones who are the most reluctant to receive the COVID-19 vaccine.

Yet, when I review the data from a survey that was conducted on May 11 that was administered by Data for Progress, I don’t find a lot of evidence that evangelicals are the ones lagging behind. In fact, I find that those without any religious affiliation were the least likely to have received at least one dose of any COVID-19 vaccine.

The Data for Progress poll has been in the field for a total of 57 weeks. Dating back to the earliest days of the pandemic and beginning in January, respondents were asked if they had received a COVID vaccination. Obviously, in those early days when vaccine supply was an issue, small fractions of the population had gotten a shot. But that quickly ramped up as larger shares of the population became vaccine eligible.

By May, 70% of non-evangelical Protestants had gotten at least one dose. Sixty-two percent of both evangelical Protestants and Catholics reported the same. However, it was the “nones” (no religious affiliation) who were lagging farther behind.

By May 11, only 47% of nones had reported receiving at least one dose. However, what complicates data surrounding vaccination is that not everyone was eligible to get the shot at the same time. In all states, the oldest residents were eligible first and then the criteria widened as demand waned. However, by May 1, every American who was at least 16 years old was eligible to receive the vaccine.


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New podcast: Yes, religious issues are part of the great divide in media and, thus, America

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New podcast: Yes, religious issues are part of the great divide in media and, thus, America

When journalism profs talk about “old-school journalism,” we are actually discussing a rather modern phenomenon which is often called the American Model of the Press. It was born when printing presses started speeding up in the mid-to-late 19th century and, as it evolved, it stressed accuracy, fairness and balance when dealing with controversial issues.

What does that mean? At the very least, it meant showing respect for competing points of view — in part to allow newspapers (and advertisers) to reach a broad, diverse audience of readers.

This model replaced, at least in newspapers and wire services, what is often called the European Model of the Press. In this model, accuracy is still emphasized, but newsroom coverage is clearly and honestly based on specific editorial points of view — liberal, conservative, labor, business, etc. It is openly biased.

I offer this journalism history flashback because these terms played a major role in this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). The key question this week: How are readers supposed to relate to journalists and newsrooms when they claim to use the American Model, but their news coverage (especially online) is, on most issues (especially topics mixing politics and religion), clearly being crafted to fit a particular cultural or political template? Yes, we are talking about “Kellerism,” a term long used here at GetReligion (click here and then here for background).

In part, host Todd Wilken and I focused on a viral tweetstorm by the Russian-British comedian Konstantin Kisin, instead of dissecting the contents of one or more mainstream news reports.

It’s crucial to note that Brexit — as opposed to Donald Trump-era America — was the first hook for Kisin’s long, long commentary. Also, the ultimate goal here is to understand why so many people are skeptical when it comes to the COVID-19 vaccines (whether one agrees with that point of view or not).

(Reminder to readers: As a 67-year-old grandfather with asthma, I got my COVID shots as soon as possible. I also wear a mask when visiting institutions that ask me to do so. As for church, I follow the instructions of my bishop and our priests. It also helps to know that, after decades as a pro-life Democrat, I am now a third-party voter.)

Here is the opening of the Kisin thread. Whether he knew it or not, it is a litany mourning the loss of the American Model of the Press.


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New podcast: Indie fundamentalist near Nashville shows how to punch Washington Post buttons

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New podcast: Indie fundamentalist near Nashville shows how to punch Washington Post buttons

For decades, I have felt a strange mix of anger and mild amusement whenever I heard news consumers, when complaining about something that upset them, say that journalists write and print “bad” stories “just to sell newspapers.”

“Bad,” of course, meant stories that they thought were biased, inaccurate or simply silly, perhaps something that in our digital age would be called “clickbait.” Of course, clickbait is clickbait because there’s digital evidence that readers consistently click on certain types of stories, which increases traffic and that helps the newsroom generate money (sort of like selling more newspapers).

Produce enough stories that please the faithful readers of a given publication — down South we call this “preaching to the choir” — and you can turn those readers into digital subscribers. That’s the Holy Grail, the ultimate goal, in the business-model crisis that has dominated American journalism for a decade or more.

This brings me to this unusual Washington Post headline that I saw the other day: “Evangelical pastor demands churchgoers ditch their masks: ‘Don’t believe this delta variant nonsense’.”

Now, was this pastor the leader of an important congregation somewhere in Beltway-land? Well, the answer is “no.”

If he wasn’t local, was he a prominent member of a major, powerful evangelical Protestant denomination or network of megachurches? Again, “no.” Was he connected, somehow, to an influential evangelical college, seminary, publishing company or parachurch ministry? A third time, “no.”

In other words, to ask the question that drove this week’s “Crossroads” podcast, why did editors decide that this story worthy of coverage by a reporter at the Post? (Click here to tune in this episode.)

Well, I think it’s safe to say that this stereotype-packed piece of simplistic, shallow, clickbait was produced because it punched all kinds of buttons that pleased digital niche-audience Post subscribers. In other words (I feel guilty typing these words), they did it to sell newspapers. Here is the overture:

Since the early months of the coronavirus pandemic, Greg Locke, the pastor at a Nashville-area church, has repeatedly called covid a hoax, undermined emergency mandates and refused to comply with guidance from public health officials.


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Here we go again: White House reaches out to Latino 'faith leaders'? Why not quote a few?

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Here we go again: White House reaches out to Latino 'faith leaders'? Why not quote a few?

First, my apologies. Once again, I need to write about an issue that I have covered over and over here at GetReligion.

I mean, like this: “Why are Latinos veering into GOP? It's all about money, money, money (and zero faith).”

Then there was: “Concerning Hispanic evangelicals, secret Trump voters and white evangelical women in Georgia.”

And also this: “New York Times listens to Latino evangelicals: 'Politically homeless' voters pushed toward Trump.”

Now, that third post did get to point readers to a passage in a New York Times story in which it appears that the reporter did pay attention to what a circle of Latino evangelicals had to say. For a brief moment, a window opened into a world that is larger than mere partisan politics:

When Pastor [Jose] Rivera looks at his congregation of 200 families he sees a microcosm of the Latino vote in the United States: how complex it is, and how each party’s attempt to solidify crucial support can fall short. There are not clear ideological lines here between liberals and conservatives. People care about immigration, but are equally concerned about religious liberty and abortion. …

To explain his own partisan affiliation, Mr. Rivera says he is “politically homeless.”

In that post, I noted that this sounded like words I have heard before, spoken by many frustrated Democrats in pews. To go further, I added:

That sounds just like the laments I have heard from all kinds of reluctant Trump voters — Catholic, Orthodox, evangelicals, etc. — who define themselves in terms of their religious convictions, more than loyalty to a political party. They feel stuck, but shoved toward the GOP because of an overwhelming sense of fear caused by Democrats (and mass media professionals) who now put “religious liberty” inside scare quotes.

So this brings me to a new headline at The New York Times: “Latino Voters Moved Toward Republicans. Now Biden Wants Them Back.” Yes, here we go again.


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Devil is in the details, when covering battles inside the powerful McLean Bible Church

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Devil is in the details, when covering battles inside the powerful McLean Bible Church

When I hear of a hostile takeover in a church, I think back to around 2006 when conservative Episcopalians were breaking free of their denomination, reclaiming the name “Anglican” and trying to take their church properties with them.

Usually they failed with conservative and liberal sides accusing each other of malfeasance. The lawyers got paid, of course.

This time around, the headlines are about conflict inside the largest evangelical church in the Washington, D.C., area and because it’s in northern Virginia, where so many inside-the-Beltway workers live, its problems have gotten a lot of press interest. It didn’t hurt that then-President Donald Trump visited the place on June 2, 2019, which stirred up lots of people.

Here’s a Washington Post piece that tries to explain what’s going on:

The leaders of McLean Bible, one of the D.C. region’s largest and most high-profile evangelical churches, are facing attempts from its own members to spread disinformation to take control of the church, Pastor David Platt warned the congregation in a sermon earlier this month.

Last month, the church was supposed to vote in new elders who oversee the church, and a group tried to shore up enough votes to block the appointed leaders. In a sermon on July 4, Platt said the group told other church members as they were walking into the meeting that the new elders would try to persuade church leadership to sell the church’s building in Vienna, Va. to local Muslims who would build a mosque.

McLean Bible — which is seen as a conservative evangelical congregation and once had more than 16,000 attendees — has long been an important church in Washington with four locations near the city. But threatening McLean now is a group that has spread all kinds of rumors, Platt said.

OK, so a local megachurch is having a catfight. How does one make such a story interesting to the rest of the world?

Simple: Make it about a greater issue, such as the generational conflict or politics, which is what NPR did in calling the place “a hub for Republican senators and Bush aides.”


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Spot the religion test (again): What's at stake when politicos ask if nominees believe in God?

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Spot the religion test (again): What's at stake when politicos ask if nominees believe in God?

This is one of those GetReligion topics that — alas — keep popping up every year or two. Here is the Deseret New headline on the latest case study for journalists to file in the growing “Spot the religion test” file: “Is it legal to ask nominees to federal office if they believe in God?”

There’s a reason that this keeps happening. Church-state conflicts, especially those involving Sexual Revolution doctrines, are among the hottest of America’s hot-button political issues. The First Amendment is, for different reasons, under assault from some camps on the political right and also from many illiberal voices on the left.

In terms of raw statistics, Democrats rely on a grassroots base that, with the exception of the Black Church, is increasingly made up of Nones, agnostics, atheists and religious liberals. Republicans seeking office cannot afford to ignore people in pews — period.

All of this leads us back to these words in Article 6 in the U.S. Constitution:

The Senators and Representatives … and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States.

The headline on the Deseret News piece reads like an opinion essay, but this is actually a solid news feature that quotes a variety of voices active in debates about this church-state issue. Here is the overture:

The Constitution states that the government can’t create a religious test for public office. But does that mean confirmation hearings should include no mention of faith?

There are at least a few members of each party who think some religion questions are fair game.


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Old Southern Baptist stereotypes? Journalists need to update some information

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Old Southern Baptist stereotypes? Journalists need to update some information

Anyone looking for Baptists should head to Greenville, S.C.

"People here say you can throw a rock in one direction and hit a Southern Baptist church and if you throw a rock in the other direction you'll hit an independent Baptist church," said Nathan A. Finn, provost of North Greenville University.

Finn's school -- with strong Southern Baptist ties -- isn't the only brand of "Baptist" life in town. There's the progressive Furman University, as well as the independent Bob Jones University, known for its rock-ribbed Baptist defense of fundamentalism.

The Baptist world is extremely complex and hard for many outsiders to navigate. Some of this confusion, said Finn, affects life inside the most prominent Baptist flock -- the Southern Baptist Convention -- and perceptions of SBC conflicts.

"Lots of people need to understand that Southern Baptists are far more diverse, ethnically and culturally, than they think we are," he said, in a telephone interview. "At the same time, we're more uniformly conservative that we often appear, especially since we spend so much time fighting with each other over some of the small points of theology on which we differ."

With some of these stereotypes in mind, Finn recently fired off a dozen Twitter messages describing different images of real "Southern Baptist" churches that are common today. The goal, he said, was to create "composites of what different kinds of SBC congregations look like" and he gave them "names that are common with certain types of real churches."

There is, of course, a "First Baptist Church" which Finn described as "a downtown church that runs 500 in worship. The church is affluent, which is reflected in their beautiful building. The worship service is traditional. There are lots of programs & committees" and the congregation is known for big donations to the SBC's shared "Cooperative Program" budget.

Then there is one of the megachurches that have dominated the American religious marketplace in recent decades. While the word "Baptist" is missing in its name, Finn noted: "CrossWay Church is a suburban church that runs 1400 in two services. The 'feel' of each service is laid back & contemporary. CrossWay has excellent recreational facilities" and its leaders are "considering launching a second campus."

These big churches frequently make headlines.


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Thinking about evangelicals and January 6: DIY independents are (still) not the whole story

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Thinking about evangelicals and January 6: DIY independents are (still) not the whole story

How many Protestant denominations are there?

That’s a question I’ve been hearing as long as I have walked the religion beat. People used to toss around crazy numbers like 32,000 or 23,000, but no one takes those numbers seriously anymore. At the same time, a number like 200 sounds way low to me.

Denominations — large and small, formal and informal — remain an important part of the religion marketplace, but they are not really where the action is these days. Have you been reading the Julia Duin posts (start here and here) exploring the post-Donald Trump arguments among the Pentecostal and charismatic “prophets”? Is the clout of these emerging doctrinal tribes limited by their lack of historic brand names?

Hang in there with me for a moment. I am trying to connect an important moment in January 6th hearings on Capitol Hill with an important piece that former Southern Baptist leader Russell Moore wrote just after the riot (and has not re-upped on Twitter). Here is the crucial passage from a Washington Post report describing a key moment in the hearing that, with good cause, has provoked some debate.

In emotional testimony that recounted the abuse he received while defending the Capitol on Jan. 6, D.C. police officer Daniel Hodges said he was struck by the flags carried by members of the mob, whom he characterized as “terrorists.”

“To my perpetual confusion, I saw the thin blue line flag, a symbol of support for law enforcement more than once being carried by the terrorists as they ignored our commands and continued to assault us,” Hodges said.

He nodded to the conflict between the beliefs represented by the flags, and the actions of those holding them.

“It was clear the terrorists perceived themselves to be Christians. I saw the Christian flag directly to my front, another ‘Jesus is my savior.’ ‘Trump is my president.’ Another ‘Jesus is king,’ ” Hodges continued.

No doubt about it, lots of those marchers and the rioters who attacked the Capitol (two different groups, in terms of the legality of their actions) can accurately be called “white evangelicals” — in large part because “evangelical” has become a term with almost zero historic or doctrinal content.

The question, from the start, is whether evidence would emerge in trials indicating that any of these lawbreakers were linked to powerful evangelical Protestant denominations, ministries, schools, etc.


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New podcast: What could go wrong? NYTimes explores Facebook's religious ambitions

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New podcast: What could go wrong? NYTimes explores Facebook's religious ambitions

Truth be told, I am not prone to flashbacks — even though I did come of age in the late 1960s and early 1970s.

Anyway, I had a big flashback recently while reading a very interesting New York Times feature that ran with this headline: “Facebook’s Next Target: The Religious Experience.” In this case, the subhead is also crucial: “The company is intensifying formal partnerships with faith groups across the United States and shaping the future of religious experience.”

Whoa. What does “shaping the future of religious experience” mean? I imagine that to learn details, readers would have to hear from some of the participants in this trailblazing online work. But there’s a problem with that. When asked about some specifics, an official with the Atlanta branch of the trendy Hillsong Church couldn’t answer, because “he had signed a nondisclosure agreement.”

Don’t you hate it when that happens?

Anyway, here’s the passage the stirred up lots of conversation, and my multi-decade flashback, during the recording of this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in).

A Facebook spokeswoman said the data it collected from religious communities would be handled the same way as that of other users, and that nondisclosure agreements were standard process for all partners involved in product development.

Many of Facebook’s partnerships involve asking religious organizations to test or brainstorm new products, and those groups seem undeterred by Facebook’s larger controversies. This year Facebook tested a prayer feature, where members of some Facebook groups can post prayer requests and others can respond. The creator of YouVersion, the popular Bible app, worked with the company to test it.

Now, combine that mind-spinning information with this passage, which very gently raises the issue that millions of Americans — on the cultural right and left — are convinced that the Facebook gods have lost control of much of the information that is located on their platform:

The company’s effort to court faith groups comes as it is trying to repair its image among Americans who have lost confidence in the platform, especially on issues of privacy. Facebook has faced scrutiny for its role in the country’s growing disinformation crisis and breakdown of societal trust, especially around politics, and regulators have grown concerned about its outsize power.

This brings me to my flashback to a graduate-school class at the University of Illinois in Urbana-Champaign that changed my life.


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