Terry Mattingly

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The New York Times visits Iowa heartland and hears just what its readers wanted to hear

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Trust me on this. If you want to visit Sioux Center, Iowa, you really need to want to go there.

Even by Midwestern standards, this town is remote. There’s a popular stereotype that many Christian liberal-arts colleges are found in lovely small towns in the middle of cornfields. That’s what we’re talking about here.

However, if you have visited this Dordt University and Sioux Center, you know that this trip is worth taking. This is especially true if you are interested in learning about the fine lines and complex divisions inside American evangelicalism and the Christian Reformed Church, in particular.

I bring this up, of course, because of a magisterial New York Times analysis that ran the other day that ran with this epic headline: “ ‘Christianity Will Have Power’ — Donald Trump made a promise to white evangelical Christians, whose support can seem mystifying to the outside observer.”

Friends, as strange as it sounds, it appears that we have found a topic on which the Times and America’s 45th president appear to be in agreement, for the most part. They share a common, simplistic view of evangelical Christianity in which everybody Just. Loves. Trump.

Before we go there, let me share part of a column that I wrote about the book “Alienated America” by journalist Timothy P. Carney. It appears that he visited the same Sioux Center that I did and what he learned there about evangelicals and the 2016 election didn’t surprise me one bit. This is long, but essential:

Research into (2016) primary voting, he noted, revealed that the "more frequently a Republican reported going to church, the less likely he was to vote for Trump." In fact, Trump was weakest among believers who went to church the most and did twice as well among those who never went to church. "Each step DOWN in church attendance brought a step UP in Trump support," noted Carney.

Reporters could have seen this principle at work early on in Sioux County, Iowa, where half of the citizens claim Dutch ancestry. According to the Association of Religion Data Archives, Sioux County has the highest percentage of evangelicals in Iowa. …

Trump didn't win a single Sioux County precinct in the Iowa caucuses.


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Wait a minute: This New York Times Story is about the state of GOP life in Tennessee?

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Well, I’m not in Kansas anymore. I’m back in Tennessee, but I’m borrowing WiFi in the lobby of an auto-repair establishment (don’t ask the details) while trying to get home.

But being back in the Volunteer state did remind me that I wanted to comment on a recent New York Times piece that ran just before our state primaries. The story is about the brutal, at times, race to win the GOP nomination to chase the U.S. Senate seat that for years belonged to the courtly Lamar Alexander.

The establishment candidate, Bill Hagerty won the race, but it was tight. The Times team focused, of course, on the toxic existence of Citizen Donald Trump. The president’s endorsement of Hagerty was important, but that was only one reason that Tennessee Republicans — at least the ones I know — were so torn up in this race.

But there’s no need to discuss cultural and religious issues in a Bible Belt state like Tennessee when you can focus exclusively on You. Know. Who. Thus, this double-decker headline:

Tennessee Republicans, Once Moderate and Genteel, Turn Toxic in the Trump Era

In the Senate primary race to replace Lamar Alexander, two candidates are fighting to see who can better emulate the president. It isn’t pretty.

The thesis statement near the end adds:

What is perhaps already clear, however, is that the Republican Party that Mr. Alexander long sought to shape — a “governing party,” he once wrote, that translated “principled ideas” into “real solutions” — is not the one he will ultimately leave behind.

Both of the major candidates were conservatives, but one — Hagerty — had a blue-chip GOP establishment heritage, with ties to President George W. Bush. The other, Dr. Manny Sethi — an Indian-American, Harvard-educated surgeon at Vanderbilt University hospital — was clearly running as the outsider.

Believe it or not, Trump backed the GOP establishment guy even as Sethi attempted to appeal to voters on many of Trump’s cultural issues.


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Walking with C.S. Lewis: George Sayer on his friend and former professor

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Walking with C.S. Lewis: George Sayer on his friend and former professor

He always took the early, slow train from Oxford, so he could say his prayers and enjoy the scenery before he arrived at the tiny station at the foot of the Malvern Hills.

C.S. Lewis rarely tinkered with the details of these trips, since the goal was always the same -- to walk and talk with friends. He wore a rumpled tweed jacket with the obligatory leather elbow patches, baggy wool pants, walking shoes and an old hat. He had a battered rucksack and he never carried a watch.

His host was George Sayer, his former pupil at Magdalen College and a close friend for three decades. They usually walked the 10-mile Malvern ridge, with its lovely views of the distant Welsh hills, the Severn valley and the Cotswolds. But sometimes they strayed elsewhere, joined by other colleagues.

"Beauty was so important to Jack and so was good conversation," said Sayer, using the nickname Lewis preferred. "What could be better than putting the two together? One could not have found a better walking companion."

Sayer gazed out the sunny garden window in his sitting room, which served as the starting point for their travels. Then he laughed out loud.

"You should have seen Jack trying to walk with J.R.R. Tolkien! Once Jack got started a bomb could not have stopped him and the more he walked, the more energy he had for a good argument," said Sayer. "Now Tolkien was just the opposite. If he had something to say, he wanted you to stop so he could look you in the face. So on they would go, Jack charging ahead and Tolkien pulling at him, trying to get him to stop - back and forth, back and forth. What a scene!"

That was long ago. It has been nearly a quarter of a century since Sayer led Malvern College's English department and a decade since he wrote "Jack: C.S. Lewis and His Times."


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Podcast: Portland Bible (or Bibles) was just 'kindling' for fire, saith The New York Times (#SoThere)

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Podcast: Portland Bible (or Bibles) was just 'kindling' for fire, saith The New York Times (#SoThere)

Let’s say that it’s a cold summer night and you need to start a fire during your #AltRight demonstration that includes quite a bit of violent behavior.

There are, of course, television cameras present.

How many Qurans would you need to burn — just as “kindling” — to create a news story worthy of coverage by what used to be called the mainstream press? You are, of course, going to burn an American flag, as well, since it is a symbol of the liberal state that is your enemy. You are flying your own banners — such as a Rebel battle flag from the War Between the States.

Do you need to burn one Quran to create headlines around the world? How about two? You are, of course, not showing hostility to Islam. You just need some kindling to start a fire. It also helps to open the cover up so that the camera catches the title page of the holy book.

This was one of the questions discussed during this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). We were discussing that recent New York Times story that ran with this headline: “A Bible Burning, a Russian News Agency and a Story Too Good to Check Out.”

The setting for this drama, of course, is Portland. Here’s a key passage:

The story was a near-perfect fit for a central Trump campaign talking point — that with liberals and Democrats comes godless disorder — and it went viral among Republicans within hours of appearing earlier this month. The New York Post wrote about it, as did The Federalist, saying that the protesters had shown “their true colors.” Senator Ted Cruz, the Texas Republican, said of the protesters, “This is who they are.” Donald Trump Jr., the president’s son, tweeted that antifa had moved to “the book burning phase.”

The truth was far more mundane. A few protesters among the many thousands appear to have burned a single Bible — and possibly a second — for kindling to start a bigger fire. None of the other protesters seemed to notice or care.

Were the Russians tipped off about the random Bible burning? Where were the CNN cameras? Fox News pros weren’t there to join the conspiracy?

Let me be clear: I have no doubt that advocacy media on the right jumped on this story. That is what they do in this new era of biased news on both sides of America’s cultural divide. I have no doubt that Russian operatives seek to cause division.


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Talking Black Swans: Burge and Fields on religion and politics 2020 (tmatt on the road)

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It’s a bit of a slow week here at GetReligion, even though lots of things are happening in the world of religion news and politics.

There’s great stuff to read, but that’s happening with the solid work of the rest of the GetReligion team since I am on the road this whole week — out in the plains of Kansas to visit with family and speak to a forum at America’s greatest religion book store (click here for info). I’m speaking about C.S. Lewis and a scholar named George Sayer.

Meanwhile, I am trying to ignore politics. I’m the kind of guy who gets depressed when there isn’t a single person on either major-party ticket who can be described, accurately, as an old-school First Amendment liberal. I’m talking about folks who care about the rights of religious minorities and independent journalists and are committed to the First Amendment rights of everyone, even their political enemies.

So I am going to let other folks talk about the scary side of religion and politics, right now.

In this case, we have another long, long podcast by a friend of this weblog — Jess Fields of Houston — and GetReligion contributor Ryan Burge (who seems to be everywhere these days, with good cause).

You may recall that I wrote a post about Fields when I visited his podcast: “Jess Fields got tired of short, shallow news interviews: So he started doing loooong podcasts.”

Then Burge visited with Fields in this totally logical episode: “Jess Fields meets Ryan Burge: As you would image, they're talking 'nones,' 'evangelicals,' etc.”

Now we have a straightforward Fields-Burge 2.0 about religion and the 2020 election year. For those who prefer audio-only, click here.

You’ll want to hang on for the whole thing.

Why? Does the term “black swan” mean anything to you?


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Jerry Falwell Jr. vs. Liberty U: Journalists need to understand the school, to get this story

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What is there to say about the mainstream press coverage of the Jerry Falwell, Jr., soap opera?

For several years now, he has, along with a few other pastors and activists, been treated as the face of evangelicalism. This is interesting, since this Falwell’s Liberty University has rarely played a major role in evangelical life in America — other than through waves of coverage in the mainstream press.

In this way, he can be seen as the successor of both his father, the Rev. Jerry Falwell, and the Rev. Pat Robertson. He’s famous because he is famous and, most of the time, his actions fit the popular press narrative of crazy evangelicals storming out of the backwoods to threaten the blue American way of life.

In recent years, Falwell has constantly been in the press for one reason — his embrace of Donald Trump. Falwell has made as many mistakes, in this role, as a man can possibly make.

So this brings us to That Photo and this Washington Post headline, chosen from the blitz of stories in the American press as a whole: “Jerry Falwell Jr., a prominent evangelical supporter of Trump, on indefinite leave of absence from Liberty U.”

It’s a fine story and the key details are all in there — in terms of focusing on Falwell and Trump. Here is a key passage:

Since taking over as president of the school in 2007, Falwell has vastly expanded the size and scope of the university co-founded by his father, the televangelist Jerry Falwell Sr., in 1971. It is now one of the largest private online universities in the country. The school claims to have more than 100,000 students, including about 16,000 who study on its Lynchburg, Va., campus.

The school’s chapel has also become a pilgrimage site for many politicians, particularly GOP presidential contenders hoping to woo Christian conservatives.

Falwell was one of the first high-profile leaders in the evangelical world to endorse Trump in 2016. A former chairman of Liberty’s executive committee, Mark DeMoss, resigned over the endorsement, saying Trump’s insult-laden presidential campaign was a flagrant rejection of the values that Falwell Sr. espoused and that Liberty aims to promote. …

In an interview with The Post last year, Falwell said there was nothing Trump could do that would endanger his support or that of other conservative Christian leaders. “I can’t imagine him doing anything that’s not good for the country,” he said.

I want to focus on one word — “particularly” — in the reference to Liberty serving as a “pilgrimage site for many politicians, particularly GOP presidential contenders.”

This is true. But other interesting politicos have visited the campus and have received polite or even warm welcomes.


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Question for 2020: Can Episcopal clergy consecrate bread and wine through the Internet?

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Question for 2020: Can Episcopal clergy consecrate bread and wine through the Internet?

In the late 1970s, the Episcopal Ad Project began releasing spots taking shots at television preachers and other trends in American evangelicalism.

One image showed a television serving as an altar, holding a priest's stole, a chalice and plate of Eucharistic hosts. The headline asked: "With all due regard to TV Christianity, have you ever seen a Sony that gives Holy Communion?"

Now some Anglicans are debating whether it's valid -- during the coronavirus crisis -- to celebrate "virtual Eucharists," with computers linking priests at altars and communicants with their own bread and wine at home.

In a recent House of Bishops meeting -- online, of course -- Episcopal Church leaders backed away from allowing what many call "Virtual Holy Eucharist."

Episcopal News Service said bishops met in private small groups to discuss if it's "theologically sound to allow Episcopalians to gather separately and receive Communion that has been consecrated by a priest remotely during an online service."

Experiments had already begun, in some Zip codes. In April, Bishop Jacob Owensby of the Diocese of Western Louisiana encouraged such rites among "Priests who have the technical know-how, the equipment and the inclination" to proceed.

People at home, he wrote, will "provide for themselves bread and wine (bread alone is also permissible) and place it on a table in front of them. The priest's consecration of elements in front of her or him extends to the bread and wine in each … household. The people will consume the consecrated elements."

Days later, after consulting with America's presiding bishop," Bishop Owensby rescinded those instructions. "I understand that virtual consecration of elements at a physical or geographical distance from the Altar exceeds the recognized bounds set by our rubrics and inscribed in our theology of the Eucharist," he wrote.

However, similar debates were already taking place among other Anglicans. In Australia, for example, Archbishop Glenn Davies of Sydney urged priests to be creative during this pandemic, while churches were being forced to shut their doors.

During a live-streamed rite, he wrote, parishioners "could participate in their own homes via the internet consuming their own bread and wine, in accordance with our Lord's command."


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People keep asking: Why does press say 'religious left,' as opposed to 'Religious Left'?

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People keep asking: Why does press say 'religious left,' as opposed to 'Religious Left'?

Every now and then, readers — or people I meet in daily life — ask this question: Why do journalists write so much about the Religious Right (capital letters), while devoting way less digital ink to the actions, policies and beliefs of the religious left (no capital letters).

That is a complex question and you can hear me struggling with it all the way through this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). The hook for this episode was my post that ran with this headline: “Thinking with David Briggs and Ryan Burge: Whoa, is religious left really on rise (again)?”

For starters, people tend to ask this question every four or eight years (hint, hint), when the mainstream press does another round of stories about the religious left surging into action in an attempt to counterbalance the nasty Religious Right.

The Religious Right, you see, exists all the time — because it is one of the largest camps inside the modern Republican Party. The religious left doesn’t play the same role in the Democratic Party, unless we are talking about the importance of politically (as opposed to doctrinally) liberal black-church leaders in strategic primary elections. You can ask Joe Biden about that this time around.

I guess the simple answer to the “RR” vs. “rl” question is that journalists tend to capitalize the names of groups that they see as major political or social movements — like the Civil Rights movement or the Sexual Revolution.

The religious left, you see, isn’t a “movement” that exists all the time — in my experience — for many mainstream journalists. The religious left is just ordinary, good, liberal religious people doing things that are positive and logical in the eyes of gatekeepers in newsrooms. This is “good” religion.

The Religious Right, on the other hand, is a powerful political movement consisting of strange, scary evangelicals who keep coming out of the rural backwoods to threaten normal life in American cities. This is “bad,” even dangerous, religion.

Now, there is another big irony linked to press coverage of progressive forms of faith.


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Christian in NBA suffers horrible, funny injury: Was cruel ESPN tweet a news story or not?

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I realize that few GetReligion readers seem to care much about sports. But what about a mixture of race, religion and sports?

With that in mind, let me ask a serious journalism question linked to those three topics.

Would it be a news story — a hard-news story — if an ESPN personality (or the social-media team working with his show) asked if it was funny if an athlete who backs #BlackLivesMatters suffered a horrible, painful injury soon after making a high-profile statement about how his convictions were rooted in his faith?

Wait. We know an ESPN host and/or the show’s social-media team would never do such a thing.

But what if a conservative media star — Tucker Carlson, let’s say — asked that same question?

It’s safe to say that this would explode into mainstream news coverage.

That brings us to this headline in the New York Post (a conservative paper, of course): “ESPN’s Dan Le Batard posts poll wondering if Jonathan Isaac’s torn ACL is funny.”

Dan Le Batard issued an apology for his ill-advised poll Monday afternoon.

The ESPN radio host’s show, “The Dan Le Batard Show with Stugotz,” ran a poll on Twitter poking fun at Magic forward Jonathan Isaac, who tore his ACL Sunday night.

Isaac was the first player in the NBA bubble not to kneel during the national anthem, and also did not wear the “Black Lives Matter” warm-up donned by the rest of his teammates.

“Is it funny the guy who refused to kneel immediately blew out his knee?” the poll asked.

Oh, right. I turned that question around, didn’t I?

Isaac is a black Christian — he is ordained, in fact — who made headlines by linking his faith to his decision not to take part in the official NBA pre-game rites. He wasn’t protesting the protests, exactly. He had a larger point that he wanted to make, one rooted in his work as a minister.


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