Terry Mattingly

, , , , , , , , ,

Thinking about Little Richard: Mark Kellner with a Seventh-day Adventist look at rock pioneer

, , , , , , , , ,

As folks in his native South would say, Little Richard was a piece of work.

One way or another, Richard Wayne Penniman always stressed that he was a work in progress and that, one way or another, God was the author of this story.

This was a man who was driven to shout and scream about all kinds of things. The same rock ‘n’ roll genius who exploded out of radios in the ‘50s, singing songs with lyrics that had to be cleaned up the masses, also went to seminary and devoted decades of his life to preaching, evangelism and Gospel music. He openly struggled with issues of sexual identity, yet never shied away from talking about sin as well as sensuality.

When the news broke about his death, at age 87, I wondered if mainstream obituaries would dig into all of that. I’m pleased that they did. Here’s a key chunk of the obit at The New York Times (the Gray Lady also ran a tribute essay discussing Little Richards’ contributions to popular culture, which discussed his faith):

Little Richard, delving deeply into the wellsprings of gospel music and the blues, pounding the piano furiously and screaming as if for his very life, raised the energy level several notches and created something not quite like any music that had been heard before — something new, thrilling and more than a little dangerous. …

Art Rupe of Specialty Records, the label for which he recorded his biggest hits, called Little Richard “dynamic, completely uninhibited, unpredictable, wild.”

And all the people said, “Amen.”

Little Richard burned red hot through the mid-1950s and the retreated from mainstream music. The Times obit clearly describes why:

He became a traveling evangelist. He entered Oakwood College (now Oakwood University) in Huntsville, Ala., a Seventh-day Adventist school, to study for the ministry. He cut his hair, got married and began recording gospel music. For the rest of his life, he would be torn between the gravity of the pulpit and the pull of the stage.

“Although I sing rock ’n’ roll, God still loves me,” he said in 2009. “I’m a rock ’n’ roll singer, but I’m still a Christian.”

With all of that in mind, please note the following Adventist Review tribute by former GetReligionista Mark Kellner — a veteran mainstream journalist who has also served as a Seventh-day Adventist press aide. Here are two samples of that:


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

New podcast: Franklin Graham comes to Central Park, earning solid quotes in Gray Lady

, , , , , , , , ,

It’s easy to argue about Franklin Graham.

For starters, he is the heir of much of the ministry of the Rev. Billy Graham, and it’s hard to name a figure in mainstream Christianity who was more beloved than Billy Graham.

At the same time, Franklin Graham has openly aligned himself with Donald Trump, turning away from even the modest criticisms he offered during the primary season before the 2016 shocker. His theological critique of all of this has been blunt, to say the least.

That’s his style, and people love to argue about that. As I said in this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in), Franklin Graham has rarely used a flyswatter when a baseball bat will do.

But the fact that so many people ARGUE about Franklin Graham implies that there are good things to say about him (from multiple points of view) as well as bad things to say (from multiple points of view). It should be easy to write provocative, balanced news stories about him because there are so many people, with so many different perspectives, who have strong opinions about him.

However, mainstream press coverage of Franklin Graham tends to portray him as — let me state this mildly — the tacky son of a great man who is now one of the bigoted evangelical vandals who want to sack the American Rome (that would be New York City).

This brings me to an interesting, and in many ways admirable, New York Time story that ran the other day with this sprawling two-deck headline:

Franklin Graham Is Taking Down His N.Y. Hospital, but Not Going Quietly

His critics accuse him of discriminating against L.G.B.T. people. “Just because I don’t agree doesn’t mean I’m against them,” he said.

This lengthy story contains quite a bit of material in which Graham defends his organization and his own beliefs. It helps that he came to New York City — there is a lesson here for other religious leaders, especially evangelicals — and was willing to stand in front of microphones and answer questions.

The story, however, doesn’t include much in the way of information about what Samaritan’s Purse does and how long Graham and his team has been doing what they do.

Does that matter?


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

What was that all about? New York hipsters, Hasidic Jews and slanted social-distancing rules

, , , , , , , ,

For a week or more, I gathered information about one of the most painful puzzles in the coronavirus crisis in New York City — the clashes between the city government and Hasidic Jewish leaders and their followers.

Did these ultra-Orthodox Jews break the “shelter in place” rules? Of course they did.

Had they made attempts to work with city officials in advance, but then emotions linked to the funeral of a rabbi got out of control? Yes, that appeared to be the case.

Was that infamous tweet from Mayor Bill de Blasio — aimed at the whole “Jewish community” — utterly bizarre? Yes it was.

So what was the real issue here? Hold that thought. First, here is a large chunk of an essential New York Times story — “2,500 Mourners Jam a Hasidic Funeral, Creating a Flash Point for de Blasio“ — as background information for those who didn’t follow this drama.

Soon after a revered Hasidic rabbi died of the coronavirus in Brooklyn … his fellow congregants informed the Police Department of an unexpected decision: Despite the coronavirus restrictions now in place, they would hold a public funeral.

The local police precinct did not stand in their way, a testament to the Hasidic community’s influence in the Williamsburg neighborhood. By 3:30 p.m., police officers began erecting barricades, expecting a small number of mourners to show up. Loudspeakers were put up to help mourners hear while keeping their distance.

But by 7:30 p.m., an estimated 2,500 ultra-Orthodox Jewish men had arrived to mourn Rabbi Chaim Mertz, packing together shoulder-to-shoulder on the street and on the steps of brownstones, clearly violating social distancing guidelines and turning the funeral into one of the most fraught events of the virus crisis for Mayor Bill de Blasio.

Police began to disperse the mourners, some of whom were not wearing masks. Word of the gathering soon reached City Hall, where the mayor decided to go to Brooklyn to oversee the dispersal himself.


The backlash against de Blasio was incredible. Yes, the word “Anti-Semitism” was used.

I kept reading the coverage, wondering: Was this just a New York City story or was there content here that is related to how journalists are covering COVID-19 stories elsewhere in America?


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

Talk about burying the lede! Knox officials wanted to 'open up,' while banning Holy Communion?

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

If you have been following the ecclesiastical shelter-in-place wars, then you know that the most interesting stories — in terms of journalism and debates in the public square — as moved on to debates about safe worship that includes social-distancing principles.

Evangelicals and other low-church Protestants have a distinct advantage here, with their emphasis on preaching and small-ensemble praise music. It’s harder to distribute Holy Communion from a distance, even if worshipers in liturgical churches are six feet or more apart while sitting in their pews.

Some state and local officials seem to be struggling with these coronavirus issues. This is also true of for journalists, who really need to be listening to shepherds in Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican and Lutheran churches. It may even be possible to interview them.

In a recent “On Religion” column, I noted these interesting remarks by a high-profile archbishop:

New York Cardinal Timothy Dolan, in an online essay, stressed that whenever Catholic priests approach their altars the saints and "all God's people" are spiritually present. He also praised clergy who have found ways to carry on with their work – while following social-distancing guidelines.

"Our parish priests have risen to the occasion, with innovative ways to distribute Holy Communion, expose the Blessed Sacrament for adoration, hear confessions and anoint and visit the sick," noted Dolan. "They assemble at graveside to bury our dead. Our courageous chaplains in hospitals and nursing homes are on the front lines."

I bring this up because of a recent story in my local paper, The Knoxville News Sentinel, that ran with this headline: “Are church services allowed Sunday in Knoxville? Yes, but it's not encouraged.” It described a rather typical conflict between a rather lenient state governor and strict local officials — strict to the point of potential First Amendment clashes.

The problem? Some of the most shocking details were buried — quite literally — at the end of this story. Hold that thought. First, here is the overture:

There is nothing stopping worshipers from congregating for services, but no official is recommending churches, synagogues and mosques throw open their doors right away.


Please respect our Commenting Policy
, , , , ,

'Called' to work on coronavirus front lines: A source of hope, as well as a unique burden

, , , , ,
'Called' to work on coronavirus front lines: A source of hope, as well as a unique burden

Dr. Lorna M. Breen was surrounded by scenes of chaos and death at New York-Presbyterian Allen Hospital that reminded her of a biblical apocalypse.

She told her family it was "like Armageddon."

Hit by the coronavirus herself, she fought to recover and regain strength -- so she could return to work as medical director of the emergency room at the center of the pandemic. On the last Sunday in April, she took her own life.

Was this tragedy caused by pressures at work or by damage from the virus?'

"I know it in my heart, that it was both. She had COVID and I believe that it altered her brain. And then she went back to the most horrific, unimaginable conditions," Jennifer Feist, the doctor's sister, told NBC News.

“For somebody whose life's calling is helping people, and she just couldn't help enough people … the combination was just untenable," she said. "I'm hearing so much, from people who work in healthcare, saying: 'We always have to be brave. … It's not OK to say that you're suffering.' "

A school friend used the same faith-based term -- "calling" -- to describe the doctor's view of her vocation. Mary Williams grew up with Breen at the First Baptist Church in Danville, Pa.

"She was brilliant," she told the Daily Item, in the Susquehanna River Valley. "She had a bright light and she had a compassionate soul and was a lover of people. Becoming a doctor was her best calling."

The coronavirus pandemic has caused stunning levels of stress for doctors, nurses, scientists and other first responders. This is true for religious believers and unbelievers, alike. Professionals are struggling with mental and physical exhaustion, as well as concerns about their own health and the safety of friends and family.

Nevertheless, the pandemic has put unique pressures on those who view their work as a "calling" rooted in their faith, said Rebecca Randall, science reporter for Christianity Today magazine.


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

YouTube thinker: Methodist conservative chats with RNS' Jack Jenkins about religious left

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

Every few years, like clockwork, American newspapers roll out pre-election features about a revival of activity on what can accurately be called the “Religious Left” — even if few journalists have granted it the upper-case-letter status of the ominous Religious Right.

From Day 1 here at GetReligion, I have argued that activity on the theological and political left is one of the most overlooked stories of recent decades. I have at least three reasons for saying that:

(1) The demographic implosion of the denominations known as the Seven Sisters of liberal Protestantism — the decline escalated in the late ‘70s and the ‘80s — left room in the American public square for the emergence of modern evangelicalism. Religious progressives, however, maintained crucial high ground in elite institutions of the left and right coasts.

(2) Progressive Catholics have always played a crucial role in the Democratic Party, even as — at the ballot box — it was easy to see a growing divide between liberal “cultural Catholics” and more conservative Catholics who worship once a week or even more.

(3) Journalists tend to focus on religious liberals as a political force, while paying little or no attention to THEOLOGICAL trends on that side of the church aisle (other than changes that affect LGBTQ issues).

Theological questions will be even more important for the Religious Left in the future, as the political left grows more and more secular (think atheists, agnostics and “nones”). How will this affect, for example, crucial ties to African-American churches, which tend to be more conservative on moral issues? And while we are at it, check out this new chart from political scientist (and progressive Baptist pastor) Ryan Burge, a GetReligion contributor (whose Twitter feed has been on fire the past couple of days).

I bring all of this up because of a fascinating video chat that took place the other day between United Methodist conservative Mark Tooley of the Institute on Religion and Democracy and veteran progressive scribe Jack Jenkins — formerly of ThinkProgress and the Center for American Progress — who now covers national news for Religion News Service. The subject is a new book by Jenkins with the logical title, “American Prophets: The Religious Roots of Progressive Politics and the Ongoing Fight for the Soul of the Country.”


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

Lots of edgy thinking about 'Weird Christianity' -- in The New York Times, no less

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

I was going to let the “Weird Christianity” opus in The New York Times sail past, in part because I wondered if it was a bit too “inside baseball” for this audience.

Well, it is a major weekend piece in America’s most powerful newspaper and people keep asking me if I have seen it. I have also been asked — since it’s about people choosing ancient liturgies and non-binary politics — if this article is, in effect, about people like me.

Not really. This Times essay — by Tara Isabella Burton of The American Interest — is about a recent trend among young Americans. I am, well, old and I converted to Eastern Orthodoxy 20-plus years ago. I did drop my registration in the Democratic Party in 2016. Here is the double-decker headline on this essay:

Christianity Gets Weird

Modern life is ugly, brutal and barren. Maybe you should try a Latin Mass.

I think it’s important to note that this “Weird Christianity” term is not new and there’s more to it than a taste for smells and bells (as Burton makes clear). There’s no question that issues of culture and aesthetics play a role in this trend, but the key is doctrine. And this trend is pre-modern, not postmodern.

To see that in practice, check out this 2015 Christianity Today piece by Sarah Pulliam Bailey, now of the Washington Post (and also a former GetReligion contributor). In this case, the term is being used in a Southern Baptist and evangelical context, as in, “Russell Moore Wants to Keep Christianity Weird: The public-policy leader for the largest US Protestant denomination isn’t worried over Christians’ loss of power. He says it might just be the best thing to happen to them.”

But back to Burton and the Times. Here is a crucial chunk (long, but essential) of her first-person piece:

… I’m not alone. One friend has been dialing into Latin Masses at churches across the United States: a Washington Mass at 11 a.m.; a Chicago one at noon.

The coronavirus has led many people to seek solace from and engage more seriously with religion. But these particular expressions of faith, with their anachronistic language and sense of historical pageantry, are part of a wider trend, one that predates the pandemic, and yet which this crisis makes all the clearer.

More and more young Christians, disillusioned by the political binaries, economic uncertainties and spiritual emptiness that have come to define modern America, are finding solace in a decidedly anti-modern vision of faith.


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

Podcast: Do journalists doubt that the Little Sisters of the Poor are doing ministry work?

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

It should be an obvious question for journalists who have been covering the Little Sisters of the Poor drama at the U.S. Supreme Court.

What do the sisters do in their ministry work that downgrades their First Amendment rights? What are they doing that undercuts their vows to follow the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church?

There has to be something that creates a legal gap between Catholic parishes and a religious order like the Little Sisters of the Poor, who specialize in taking care of the elderly and the poor.

Maybe the problem is that they do something other than “worship” inside the doors of a chapel or convent? Maybe the problem is that they hire other people to assist them in their ministries? Is that what turns them into a vaguely religious non-profit organization?

These are some of the questions discussed during this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in), which dug into some of the news coverage of this order’s latest visit to SCOTUS. This is, of course, linked to the order’s rejection of the Obamacare mandate requiring most “religious institutions” to offer their employees, and often students, health-insurance plans covering sterilizations and all FDA-approved contraceptives, including "morning-after pills."

What’s the problem? Consider this passage from the NPR coverage of the sisters and the high court:

At issue in the case is a Trump administration rule that significantly cuts back on access to birth control under the Affordable Care Act. Obamacare, the massive overhaul of the health care system, sought to equalize preventive health care coverage for women and men by requiring employers to include free birth control in their health care plans.

Houses of worship like churches and synagogues were automatically exempted from the provision, but religiously affiliated nonprofits like universities, charities and hospitals were not. Such organizations employ millions of people, many of whom want access to birth control for themselves and their family members. But many of these institutions say they have a religious objection to providing birth control for employees.

Maybe the problem is that all churches and synagogues do is “worship,” inside the doors of their sanctuaries, while schools, charities and hospitals (often called “ministries”) do “real” things, like education, medicine and social activism. Thus, even if religious doctrines are at the foundation of their work, these groups are not as “religious” as houses of worship?


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

Jess Fields got tired of short, shallow news interviews: So he started doing loooong podcasts

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

Jess Fields is a small businessman (ask him about cigars), an Eastern Orthodox family man and a news consumer who is especially interested in stories about religion. He has also worked in nonpartisan think tanks linked to issues in state and local governments. He is enthusiastic about life in Houston (due to personal Texas Gulf Coast history I will have no further comment on that).

All in all, Fields is not a logical guy to start a podcast about religion, politics and other subjects that interest him. So why did he do exactly that?

Well, he told me that he “grew tired of the edited mudslinging that passes for ‘interviews’“ and decided that he “could do better.” His goal is to produce “long-form interviews with guests from multiple perspectives, providing a neutral platform for different views to be heard and considered in a respectful manner.” In other words, his interviews are really long.

Fields got off to a hot start with a newsworthy chat with the Rev. Tony Spell of Life Tabernacle Church just outside of Baton Rouge, La., the man behind a blitz of coronavirus headlines because of his rejection of “shelter in place” orders. Spell has been arrested and faced all kinds of questions when it appeared, on video, that he backed a church bus dangerously close to a protestor.

That led to this:

#1 — Pastor Tony Spell — On Refusing to Comply with Coronavirus Orders

We interview Pastor Tony Spell of Life Tabernacle Church in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Pastor Spell and his congregation are refusing to comply with Louisiana's stay-at-home orders due to the coronavirus pandemic. He has been arrested for violating the orders, but continues to hold packed church services. This is the most comprehensive interview Pastor Spell has granted.

Pastor Spell has his critics, as you would imagine, so Fields decided to do a lengthy interview with one of them — Rod Dreher (who lives in Baton Rouge).


Please respect our Commenting Policy