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Faith played major role in life of New York ER doctor who took her own life: What was it?

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Back in my Charlotte News (RIP) and Charlotte Observer days, I sat across a desk from a truly fantastic general assignment and police and cops reporter — a kind, soft-spoken ex-U.S. Marine.

Over and over, I heard him make difficult calls to people involved in tragedies, including the families of people who died in all kinds of accidents, crimes or acts of nature. This has to be one of the hardest jobs in journalism, for a reporter who needs information but doesn’t want to inflict emotional pain.

The goal, he once told me, was to avoid pushy questions about feelings and emotions. Instead, he tried to ask calm, factual questions they only a parent, spouse of sibling would know. The goal was not to waste their time or hurt them — but to find other voices (at specific institutions or networks of people) to interview. So he would ask if a young person had a favorite teacher or was active in a sports team or musical ensemble. Frequently, in Charlotte, he asked about friends and pastors at a religious congregation.

I thought of this reporter, and this issue, when reading a stunningly tragic New York Times coronavirus crisis story that ran with this headline: “Top E.R. Doctor Who Treated Virus Patients Dies by Suicide.” Let me stress that I want to praise this story, while also noting that — at a key moment — the Times team mentioned a strong religion angle, and then dropped the topic. First, here is some of the overture:

A top emergency room doctor at a Manhattan hospital that treated many coronavirus patients died by suicide on Sunday, her father and the police said.

Dr. Lorna M. Breen, the medical director of the emergency department at New York-Presbyterian Allen Hospital, died in Charlottesville, Va., where she was staying with family, her father said in an interview. …

Dr. Breen’s father, Dr. Philip C. Breen, said she had described devastating scenes of the toll the coronavirus took on patients.

“She tried to do her job, and it killed her,” he said.


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No #SURPRISE -- Another Womenpriests story offers public-relations ink instead of news

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How many times have your GetReligionistas written about one-sided mainstream press coverage of the tiny Womenpriests church, or movement, or association, or denomination, or independent church?

We have already noted that no one seems to know if the proper journalistic style for the movement’s name is Womenpriests, WomenPriests or Women Priests. Wait, are there now two organizations at work here, Roman Catholic Women Priests and the Association of Roman Catholic Women Priests, Inc.? What’s up?

We have already published a post (“Surprise! It's time for another one-sided look at the birth of a new church — the Women Priests”) that opens with six essential journalism problems to look for when evaluating mainstream media coverage of this issue. Here are the first two and, yes, (2) is really a two-fer:

(1) As Mollie “GetReligionista emerita” Hemingway used to say, just because someone says that he or she plays shortstop for the New York Yankees does not mean that this person plays shortstop for the world’s most famous baseball team. Only the leaders of the Yankees get to make that call.

(2) The doctrine of “apostolic succession” involves more than one bishop laying hands on someone. Ordination in ancient Christian churches requires “right doctrine” as well as “right orders.” Also, it helps to know the name of the bishop or bishops performing the alleged ordination. Be on the alert for “Old Catholic” bishops, some of whom were ordained via mail order.

Also, we have issued this challenge to readers, which — so far — has drawn zero responses:

Would your GetReligionistas praise a mainstream news story on this movement that offered a fair-minded, accurate, 50-50 debate between articulate, informed voices on both sides? You bet. Once again: If readers find a story of this kind, please send us the URL.

We are still waiting. However, a reader recently sent a URL for yet another story that repeats almost all of the errors we have seen so many times. It is clear that, while the Womenpriests church is small, it has a fabulous press-relations team.

This latest Gannett press release on this subject was published by the Daytona Beach News-Journal, under a very typical headline stating, “Defiance in DeLand: Woman ordained Roman Catholic priest.” The reader that sent this in noted:


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Thinking with Ryan Burge: Why it would be dangerous for most churches to reopen

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If you read newspapers, the world of coronavirus-era religion appears to be divided into two worlds.

On one side are lots of crazy white evangelicals — you know, the people in MAGA hats — who want to return to face-to-face worship and, thus, risk the lives of ordinary people in their communities. These are the bad guys in this drama.

There have been a few news reports that note that quite a few black Pentecostals are part of this camp, but, well, nevermind. That information just complicates things.

On the other side are the good guys — mainline Protestants and Catholics who have embraced online church life and deserve to be cheered.

Now, where does the following information from Baptist Press — the media arm of the giant Southern Baptist Convention — fit into this picture? This is from a story on initial discussions, among SBC leaders, of reopening the doors of their churches. That’s right — the Southern Baptists (I haven’t heard of any exceptions) have been worshiping online. This is long, but the details matter:

Michael Lewis, pastor of Roswell Street Baptist Church in Marietta, Ga., said his team is cautiously planning to reopen as early as May 10, though the date is tentative and dependent on progress as measured by the official guidelines for reopening set out by the White House Coronavirus Task Force.

Lewis said Marietta, one of Atlanta's northern suburbs, is almost through the Phase 1 of the COVID-19 guidelines from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention for reopening states. When the city enters Phase 2, Roswell Street Baptist, which averages about 700 in attendance Sunday morning, would conduct two worship-only services.

Two staff members would monitor two designated entrances. There would be no greeters, but those doors would remain open throughout the services. Attendees would be seated by household, with groups separated by at least six feet. They would be formally seated and dismissed in order to maintain social-distancing. Restroom use would be limited. The church would not print bulletins.

"We're going to adhere very strictly to the CDC guidelines," Lewis said, noting that the May 10 target date could be postponed if necessary.


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Covering 'mainline' faith: Why do the old Protestant churches get so much news ink?

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Soon after I left the newsroom of the Rocky Mountain News to teach at Denver Seminary, in the early 1990s, a general-assignment reporter was asked to do a story about a trend in religion. It was something to do with prayer, if I recall, and editors wanted to run it on Easter.

The reporter went to three or four nearby churches in downtown. As you would expect, these were old flocks linked to Mainline Protestantism and one Catholic parish. All were, to one degree or another, both historic and struggling, in terms of attendance and membership. The city’s biggest churches were in the suburbs, especially in the booming territory between Denver and Colorado Springs — already a nationally known evangelical power base. The state included at least five internationally known centers on spirituality and prayer, one evangelical, one charismatic Episcopal, one Buddhist and two Roman Catholic.

The story ended up with voices from the dominant flocks of Denver’s past, when liberal Protestant voices were the statistical norm.

Many times, through the years, religious leaders have asked me: Why do the oldline Protestant churches receive so much news coverage? During my Denver years, Episcopalians and United Methodists did make lots of national news — as doctrinal wars escalated about sex and marriage.

These were subjects that editors considered news. Evangelical Presbyterian churches growing to 6,000-plus members in their first five years of existence? That might be worth a column. It’s not big news.

I thought of these discussions the other day when I read a Religion News Service — a long feature with lots of valid material — that ran with this headline: “As a pandemic peaks at Christianity’s Easter climax, churches adapt online.” Here’s the opening anecdote:

On Palm Sunday (April 5), the Rev. Ted Gabrielli, a bespectacled Jesuit with a bushy beard, stood in the bed of a roving pickup truck that traveled through Boyle Heights, a mostly Latino neighborhood on Los Angeles’ east side.

Gabrielli, a pastor at Dolores Mission Church, greeted neighbors from the truck and blessed the homes, alleys and streets he passed. He greeted many by name. One neighbor, caught on a Facebook livestream of the procession, stood from her home waving palms, the symbol of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem in the week before he was crucified.


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Angry preachers fight 'shelter in place.' #NEWS Major religious groups follow rules? #SOWHAT

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If you were going to create an FAQ built on complaints from ordinary news consumers about the journalism biz, some variation on this question would have to be at or near the top of the list: “Why do journalists cover so much bad news? Why do they ignore all the good things that people do in our town/city/country/world and focus only on the bad things that a small handful of people do?”

I believe it was the late Walter Cronkite of CBS Evening News fame who said something like this (I’ve been hunting, but can’t find the quote): It would be a terrible thing if we lived in a world in which good news was so rare that everyone considered it unique and truly newsworthy.

If you pay attention to religion threads on Twitter, you know that we are living through a textbook case study of people arguing about this subject. This time, the question looks like this: Why are the few pastors who reject “shelter in place” orders getting so much ink with their face-to-face worship services, while the vast majority of clergy who have moved their rites online — often for the first time — are getting little or no coverage? I have already written about this twice at GetReligion — look here and then here.

Some people are upset, I think, because the rebels are all independent church leaders who, as a rule, perfectly match each and every stereotype of the angry white evangelicals and Pentecostals who back, you know, Citizen Donald Trump. In a way, this is a life-and-death example of the great evangelical monolith myth. Here is what people are feeling: How come some angry preacher deep in the Bible Belt is getting all this coverage and, well, online efforts by the still massive Southern Baptist Convention are ignored?

Frankly, the leap to online worship hasn’t been ignored. It has been covered over and over in local and regional news and in a few national stories that have not received all that much attention.

It’s also true — you know this if you follow Twitter — that Catholic and Eastern Orthodox people have been arguing about “shelter in place” rules, as well. The news there is that bishops have been making decisions to protect their priests and laypeople (see my most recent “On Religion” column). That’s a big story, too.

So what do these mad-preacher stories look like? For some reason, Reuters seems to be Ground Zero. Consider this headline: “The Americans defying Palm Sunday quarantines: 'Satan's trying to keep us apart'.” The story opens with a brave woman near Cincinnati who is staying at home and then jumps to this:


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Ryan Burge asks that question, again: Are politics, or doctrines, shaping COVID-19 responses?

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America is traveling further into uncharted lockdown territory, which will inevitably lead to more and more mainstream news coverage of how the coronavirus crisis will shape political events and trends.

Why? Politics is real. Also, never, ever forget that someone will — sooner or later — get to name a U.S. Supreme Court justice to replace the elderly, frail Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

But there are real religious questions here that need to be asked. Are conservative Christians responding to COVID-19 trends in ways that are radically different than liberal believers? Are the faithful in different brands of Protestantism responding in ways that are different than Catholics? And is that cultural Catholicism, Sunday morning Catholicism or daily-Mass Catholicism? Are secular people radically different from average religious people, during a crisis of this kind?

This brings us to another Ryan Burge (a must Twitter follower for religion-beat pros) think piece. It’s linked to a previous GetReligion post, sort of, that ran with this headline: “Faith in quarantine: Why are some people praying at home while others flock to pews?”

This time, writing at Christianity Today, Burge discusses political and religious themes in all of the fear factors at work right now — without oversimplifying the religion details. Get ready for crucial sentences containing words like “some” and “many.” The headline: “Faith Over Fear? No, It’s Political Ideology that Keeps People Unafraid of COVID-19.” Here’s the set-up material, pointing to a source of polling info:

In recent years, Americans across religious traditions have become more worried about the potential for a major epidemic, the kind of hypothetical question that has become all too real in the past few weeks.

But the earlier data shows fears around the spread of disease tend to be lower among Protestant Christians who identify as politically conservative and attend church weekly. This may explain why some conservative leaders, including a couple of President Donald Trump’s evangelical advisers, hesitated to cancel in-person worship or on-campus classes amid the current coronavirus precautions.


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Democrats (and political reporters) need to start asking different religion questions

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Democrats (and political reporters) need to start asking different religion questions

After Democrats voted in the Alabama primary in early March, researchers for CNN and other National Exit Pool newsrooms asked them several questions.

Reactions to the candidates were sorted by gender, race, LGBTQ identity, age, education level, political ideology and other factors. However, researchers didn't ask about religious faith and how often voters attended worship services. They didn't probe differences between evangelicals, Catholics, Mainline Protestants and "nones" -- Americans who claim zero ties to organized religious groups.

"We don't know the answers to these kinds of questions because they are rarely being asked," said Michael Wear of Public Square Strategies. He is best known for his work as faith-outreach director for Barack Obama's 2012 campaign and as part of the president's White House staff.

"This isn't just about exit polls. It's hard for Democrats to do their planning, and to allocate resources during campaigns, without this kind of data. … We need cross-tabs in these polls so that we can compare differences between white evangelicals and black evangelicals, between Catholics who go to Mass all the time and those who don't and other groups as well."

Exit Pool researchers did ask about religion in South Carolina, the pivotal state in former Vice President Joe Biden's stunning surge. It was significant that Biden was backed by 56% of Democrats who attend religious services "once a week or more," while 15% of those same voters backed Sen. Bernie Sanders. Among those who "never" attend services, Sanders was the clear winner.

Similar religion gaps emerged in North Carolina, Florida and Tennessee. In news coverage, these trends were linked to Biden's support from African-Americans, including churchgoers -- a huge voter bloc among Democrats.

That's important information, said Wear. But it would have helped to know how Catholics in South Carolina voted, as well as more about evangelical Protestants -- black and white. It would have helped to know what issues mattered most to active members of various religious groups and how faith affected their choices.

It's possible that pollsters and journalists do not ask these questions, he said, because key "players in the Democratic Party leadership aren't asking the big questions about religion, either."


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'Blue Movie' time again: Massive New York Times op-ed says the 'pew gap' is real and growing

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It’s deja vu time, all over again. Again and again.

This week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in) felt like one long time-travel ride in the WABAC machine (think “Rocky and Bullwinkle”) or Doctor Who’s TARDIS.

Let’s start at the beginning. Way back in 2003, I read an article in The Atlantic Monthly that — more than any other — made me start thinking about creating some kind of website about how many (not all) reporters in the mainstream press struggle to see the role that religion plays in public life.

The essay was called, “Blue Movie — The ‘morality gap’ is becoming the key variable in American politics” and it was written by Thomas B. Edsall, a former Washington Post political reporter who had moved to the faculty of the Columbia University journalism school.

Although I have used it’s opening paragraphs many times, here they are again:

Early in the 1996 election campaign Dick Morris and Mark Penn, two of Bill Clinton's advisers, discovered a polling technique that proved to be one of the best ways of determining whether a voter was more likely to choose Clinton or Bob Dole for President. Respondents were asked five questions, four of which tested attitudes toward sex: Do you believe homosexuality is morally wrong? Do you ever personally look at pornography? Would you look down on someone who had an affair while married? Do you believe sex before marriage is morally wrong? The fifth question was whether religion was very important in the voter's life.

Respondents who took the "liberal" stand on three of the five questions supported Clinton over Dole by a two-to-one ratio; those who took a liberal stand on four or five questions were, not surprisingly, even more likely to support Clinton. The same was true in reverse for those who took a "conservative" stand on three or more of the questions. (Someone taking the liberal position, as pollsters define it, dismisses the idea that homosexuality is morally wrong, admits to looking at pornography, doesn't look down on a married person having an affair, regards sex before marriage as morally acceptable, and views religion as not a very important part of daily life.) According to Morris and Penn, these questions were better vote predictors—and better indicators of partisan inclination—than anything else except party affiliation or the race of the voter (black voters are overwhelmingly Democratic).

The question is obvious: Were we looking at a political divide or one based on differences rooted in religious doctrines and attempts to practice them? There was no way around the fact that there were religion ghosts all over the place in this incredible “Blue Movie” piece.

This past week — taking a break from coronavirus coverage — I wrote my “On Religion” column about former Barack Obama staffer Michael Wear and efforts to probe religious tensions inside today’s Democratic Party (click here to see that). The key: Many political reporters and other Democrats just didn’t “get” the role that African-American churchgoers and other pew-based moderates play in their party.

As I was getting ready to ship that column to the syndicate, I did my morning cruise through The New York Times and spotted this headline: “In God We Divide: The political dimensions of worship have never been greater.”

My head spun when I say the byline: Thomas B. Edsall.


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Faith in quarantine: Why are some people praying at home while others flock to pews?

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To state the matter bluntly, the question of the day is: Who went to church-temple-mosque this past weekend and who did not?

The related question: “Why?” Why did believers make the decisions that they made?

This is one of those cases in which it is impossible to write a story that captures the whole picture, since we are talking about one of the ultimate local, regional, state, national and international stories of our news lifetimes.

Journalists can try to produce a news-you-can-use list that hints at the whole. Check out this Religion News Service feature: “Coronavirus shutdowns disrupt America’s soul, closing houses of worship.” That list of bullets is so limited, because producing a representative national list would be impossible.

Thus, others will focus on the larger story by looking at the symbolic details. With the resources of The New York Times, that looks like this: “A Sunday Without Church: In Crisis, a Nation Asks, ‘What is Community?’ “ This is a fine story, although, yes, its anecdotes and examples seem mainline and limited. But, again, the true picture is too big to capture.

Journalists do what they can do. Here is the thesis statement, in magisterial Times voice, free of attributions:

This week, as the coronavirus has spread, one American ritual after another has vanished. March Madness is gone. No more morning gym workouts or lunches with co-workers. No more visits to grandparents in nursing homes. The Boston Marathon, held through war and weather since 1897, was postponed.

And now it was a Sunday without church. Governors from Kentucky to Maryland to North Carolina moved to shut down services, hoping to slow the disease’s spread. Catholic dioceses stopped public Mass, and some parishes limited attendance at funerals and weddings to immediate family. On Sunday morning the Vatican closed the coming Holy Week services to the public.

The number of Americans who regularly attend a church service has been steadily declining in recent years. Many have left the traditions of their childhood, finding solace and identity in new ways. But for the one in three adults who attend religious services weekly, the cancellations have meant a life rhythm disrupted. And for the broader country, canceled services were another symbol of a lost chance to be still, to breathe and to gather together in one of the oldest ways humans know, just when such things were needed most.

For a similar take from a smaller newsroom, consult this multi-source National Catholic Reporter piece: “Worshippers go online, those at services keep a distance.”

My friend Rod “Benedict Option” Dreher stayed home (as I did) and watched a live stream of the Divine Liturgy from his Orthodox Church in America parish in urban Baton Rouge, La. In other words, one computer screen stands for legions of screens elsewhere. See: “View From Your Pandemic Online Church.”

But I was haunted by one passage in one story — another example of how The Age of Donald Trump has infected everything, when it comes to news. The fact that the story was valid only made it worse.


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