Terry Mattingly

New York Times considers free speech wars in Hong Kong, while ignoring religious issues

The locals had few illusions, back in 1997, when I spent a week in Hong Kong during the days just before the handover ceremonies that put one of Asia’s most important cities under the control of Chinese authorities.

The purpose of my trip was to attend a conference about religion and the news (click here for the text of my presentation during that event), so it was understandable that participants talked to quite a few leaders in Hong Kong’s diverse and prominent religious community.

But that really didn’t matter. Secular human-rights people I met were saying the same things as the church leaders. They were all digging into the fine details of the new Special Administrative Region's Basic Law and seeing ominous loopholes.

Article 23, for example, was causing concern, with its language stating that Hong Kong's new leaders "shall enact laws ... to prohibit any act of treason, secession, sedition (or) subversion against the Central People's Government, ... to prohibit foreign political organizations or bodies from conducting political activities in the Region, and to prohibit political organizations or bodies of the Region from establishing ties with foreign political organizations or bodies".”

Did that include the Vatican? Would Baptists, Methodists, Anglicans and others be allowed to maintain ties to their global fellowships or communions?

Global issues were sure to surface, activists told me. But that would not be the first place where the hammer would fall. Activists warned that free-speech issues would be the first war zone — free speech about politics, of course, but also about religion, an area of life that troubled government leaders.

This brings me to a recent New York Times feature — a mix of text and graphics — that ran under this headline: “What You Can No Longer Say in Hong Kong.” Surely this story about the impact of new laws in Hong Kong would address religious speech issues as well as politics? Here is a crucial summary:

The police have since arrested more than 20 people under the new law, which lays out political crimes punishable by life imprisonment in serious cases, and allows Beijing to intervene directly if it wants.

Hong Kong was once a bastion of free speech. It served as a base for the international news media and for rights groups, and as a haven for political refugees, including the student leaders of the 1989 Tiananmen Square protests in Beijing. Books on sensitive political topics that are banned in mainland China found a home in the city’s bookstores.


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Farewell to 'Diogenes,' a witty, conservative Jesuit with a very sharp pen

Farewell to 'Diogenes,' a witty, conservative Jesuit with a very sharp pen

For millions of Americans, "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" is as familiar as the national anthem and much easier to sing.

Few would need help with: "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord. He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored. He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword. His truth is marching on! Glory, glory, Hallelujah! … His truth is marching on!"

During 1990s fights over updated Catholic liturgies, a Semitic languages professor at Rome's Pontifical Biblical Institute wrote a Battle Hymn for modernists.

This "sanitized" text -- "chanted to no tune in particular" -- declared: "I see God's approach; it is good. God makes wine with God's feet. … Brightness flashes from the decision-making apparatus. God's worldview is currently earning widespread respect. Give honor repeatedly to the god of our tradition. We have owned our values."

Father Paul V. Mankowski put his own name on that First Things piece, since it didn't lance specific institutions or leaders. For decades, Catholics seeking his satirical work learned to look for "Diogenes" at CatholicCulture.org or "Father X" elsewhere.

Mankowski died on September 3 at age 66, felled by a ruptured brain aneurysm. Raised in a middle-class Rust Belt family, he worked in steel mills to pay tuition at the University of Chicago. His advanced degrees included a master's from Oxford and a Harvard University doctorate.

Many researchers, politicos and journalists (like me) knew him through telephone calls and emails, usually seeking documents and statements from nearby Catholic leaders. He was a rarity in the modern age -- a Jesuit conservative -- and his superiors eventually ordered him not to address church controversies. Much of his work was published anonymously or using pen names.

Princeton University's Robert P. George blitzed through years of emails, after hearing about Mankowski's sudden death.

"There are some doozies -- especially the spoofs, send ups and parodies," said George, on Facebook. "His wit was a massive quiver full of poison-dipped arrows, and he was a master archer.


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Rust Belt religion: Do political reporters get that Catholics are the key voters in 2020?

“White evangelical Protestants,” “white evangelical Protestants,” “white evangelical Protestants.”

“Catholic voters,” “Catholic voters,” “Catholic voters.”

World without end, amen.

The closer we get to Election Day 2020, the more we are going to see these terms in the news.

The assumption is that the “Catholic vote” is especially crucial to Democrat Joe Biden, since he is a life-long Catholic who is seeking to become America’s second Catholic in the White House. Meanwhile, journalists continue to be obsessed with President Donald Trump’s popularity among white evangelical Protestants, who played such a crucial role in his rise during the GOP primaries in 2015.

However, if you look at the swing states that put Trump in office, it was clear that Rust Belt Catholics — blue-collar Catholics in particular — were crucial voters four years ago.

During the past couple of years, our own Richard Ostling has been stressing that political-beat reporters really need to get over the whole “white evangelicals” thing and accept that, as is so often the case, Catholic voters will be the key swing voters this time around.

If readers and scribes need more input on that point, please consider this recent Pittsburgh Post-Gazette think piece by Mark J. Rozell, dean of the Schar School of Policy and Government at George Mason University. The blunt headline: “Catholics, not evangelicals, will make or break Trump.” Here is a crucial chunk of that essay:

In 2016, Mr. Trump won Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin — states with heavy concentrations of Catholic voters — by merely 107,000 votes combined. Although since the 1980s the U.S. national vote and the Catholic vote component have tracked very closely to each other in each election cycle, 2016 was an exception: Hillary Clinton handily won the national popular vote and Mr. Trump won the majority of Catholic voters. Exit polls had Mr. Trump holding a 52%-to-45% edge among Catholics.

Two critical things happened that helped Mr. Trump: his populist economic appeals to white working class voters in those key states, and the widely predicted “Latino surge” never materialized.


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Podcast: USA Today Network study of chaplain in COVID crisis avoids big, eternal questions

For the last decade of his ministry, my father — the Rev. Bert Mattingly — was the Southern Baptist chaplain at the Texas Children’s Hospital. He assisted at several other facilities in the Texas Medical Center in downtown Houston, working with chaplains representing a number of other churches and traditions.

I went to work with him several times. During one visit, we passed a small sitting room and my father said this was his private “crash” spot where he would go when he was overwhelmed and needed to pull himself together. Each of the chaplains had a safe place like this and only the chaplains receptionist knew these locations. (This was before cellphones were omnipresent.)

I also remember lots of prayers and the big questions. A hospital chaplain prays all the time, especially in a facility full of families with children facing cancer or leukemia.

There’s no way around the fact that most of a chaplain’s prayers are linked to big, eternal questions that never go away. Questions like this: Why is this happening to my child? Where is God in all of this pain? Does God understand that I’m scared? What do I do with my guilt and my anger? Is heaven real?

I thought about my father (and a beloved uncle who was a hospital chaplain for half a century) as we recorded this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in). That’s easy to understand, since we were talking about a massive USA Today Network feature — from The Louisville Courier-Journal — that ran with this title: “ 'Hurry, he's dying': A chaplain’s journal chronicles a pandemic's private wounds.”

This is a remarkable feature story, in terms of human drama and suffering. It was built on the kind of source reporters dream about, in terms of a body of written material packed with dates, times, places and human interactions — a chaplain’s personal journal of the coronavirus crisis.

Yes, this is a stunning story. The writing is first rate. However, it’s strangely silent when it comes to the content of this chaplain’s ministry — in terms of the big questions and the prayers that follow This Norton Healthcare chaplain has no specific faith tradition, church or approach to theology. Readers never even learn if Adam Ruiz is ordained and, if so, by whom. My research online found a clue that he might be part of the mainline Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Here is a crucial chunk of the intro material in this feature:

Like colleagues across the country, Ruiz’s already tough job providing spiritual care amid loss had grown exponentially more difficult. Illness and death multiplied. Fear and uncertainty gripped front-line doctors and nurses. Visitor restrictions meant suffocating isolation for patients and families. Grief was interrupted, funerals denied. A mountain of need sprang up overnight.


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Tell us more? Tragic life of an addict and street walker who attended a famous DC church

It’s hard to imagine a short newspaper feature containing more pain than The Washington Post story that ran the other day with this headline: “How a D.C. sex worker became the face of a city report on drug treatment failures.

The lede could not have been more blunt: “Alice Carter worked D.C.’s streets — and got worked over by them.”

So why discuss this tragedy at GetReligion? Read the following summary material carefully and you will see a brief reference to the religion-angle in this story:

She was a poet, addict, sex worker, parent, friend, assailant, schemer and source of inspiration to her faith community and those who loved her — when she wasn’t frustrating their exhaustive, exhausting efforts to make sure she was safe.

Those efforts ultimately proved unsuccessful. On Dec. 17, Carter died of alcohol intoxication at Howard University Hospital after being found unresponsive at a Dupont Circle McDonald’s. Last month, the well-known fixture on D.C. streets became the face of a city auditor’s report that warned the District is doing too little to help those struggling with chronic addiction.

Note that nod to Carter’s “faith community.”

That’s a very vague reference to the fact that this trans female street walker was active in one of the most famous liberal Christian congregations in Washington, D.C. Theoretically, on any given Sunday morning during the past decade or more, Alice Carter could have shared a pew with Hillary Clinton, among other United Methodist Beltway politicos and insiders.

Would the story have been stronger if, right up top, the Post team had mentioned that she “attended services” at the Foundry United Methodist Church? Was she a member? Had she made a profession of Christian faith there?

It would also have been crucial to have known more about the ways that Christians — liberal or otherwise — played a major role in Carter’s attempts to escape addiction and poverty.


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Labor Day mix: Religion and presidential politics, Bobby's best and clashing images of protest

In addition to spending some social-distanced time around a grill, this is a good day for a bit of extra reading. Please consider this a kind of “think piece” package to mentally munch during a relaxing day.

Yes, I realize that some of the topics are a bit heavy. It’s #2020.

For starters, here is a heavyweight Commonweal essay from retired Newsweek religion-beat pro Kenneth Woodward: “Religion & Presidential Politics — From George Washington to Donald Trump.

As is usually the case with Woodward, there is plenty to think about in this lengthy piece and a few things to argue about, as well. In other words, it’s must reading. Here is the lengthy overture.

Sen. Eugene McCarthy, one of the few theologically sophisticated men ever to seek either party’s presidential nomination, liked to say that only two kinds of religion are tolerated along the Potomac: “strong beliefs vaguely expressed and vague beliefs strongly affirmed.” McCarthy had two particular presidents in mind: Dwight D. Eisenhower and Ronald Reagan. But he could have been describing most of the men who have occupied the White House. Franklin D. Roosevelt would have understood what McCarthy meant. When he decided to run for president in 1932, his press secretary asked him what he should tell the press about his religious convictions. Roosevelt could have justly claimed that he was a warden of his Episcopal parish, prayed often, and regularly attended Sunday services. But all he said was: “Tell them I am a Christian and a Democrat, and that is all they need to know.” And it was. And so, with rare exceptions, it has always been in presidential elections.

Having written about religion and its relationship to American culture and politics for more than half a century, I am not inclined to minimize the effects of religious belief, behavior, and belonging on American public life. But I think it’s abundantly clear that religion has rarely been a significant factor in our presidential politics, and isn’t likely to be in the upcoming election. On the contrary, to treat religious identity as an independent variable, as many journalists, academics, and pollsters do, inflates the influence of religion on our politics and masks the ways in which politics has come to shape American religion, rather than the reverse. Still, after the returns are in next November, the media will carry stories about how Catholics, liberal Protestants, and Evangelicals — especially “non-Hispanic white” Evangelicals — voted. Why do we insist on connecting presidential choices with religious identity?

Let me give my answer to that question: We connect the two because candidates and their political parties take stands on moral and cultural issues that directly connect — for SOME (I cannot emphasize “some” enough), certainly not a majority, of voters.


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What next for Liberty University? Press should watch future campus worship services

What next for Liberty University? Press should watch future campus worship services

Liberty University's decision to close its philosophy department didn't make big headlines in May 2020, at least not when compared with the its coronavirus policies and the latest comments from President Jerry Falwell, Jr.

After all, liberal arts programs were shrinking while Liberty's online education programs prospered, along with job-friendly undergraduate degrees. Christian colleges everywhere are wrestling with similar issues.

But the philosophy department was symbolic because it once was crucial to "what made Liberty unique" -- an emphasis on blending faith with core academic disciplines, said Karen Swallow Prior, who taught there for 20 years. This summer she moved to Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, N.C., to teach English literature, as well as Christianity and culture.

"That department was top notch and produced students who went straight to the Ivy League and had great success," she said. "Philosophy was larger when I first got there, and it was clear this discipline was seen as part of Liberty's mission. Then things started changing."

Now, Liberty leaders are wrestling with the undeniable impact Falwell Jr. had as president, after the 2007 death of his father, the Rev. Jerry Falwell. Facing years of red ink, the founder's heir soon pushed for $500 million in campus updates and expansions, along with profitable online programs. The university now has 15,000 on-campus students and roughly 100,000 online. Liberty claims an endowment of $1.6 billion.

At the same time, Falwell Jr. developed a swashbuckling style that caused heat, especially when linked to race, guns, jets, politics, yachts and his specialty -- real estate. Controversies about his de facto partnership with President Donald Trump thrilled many Liberty donors, alumni, parents and students, while deeply troubling others.

Many Christian college presidents are super-pastors who provide ties that bind to denominations, churches and networks of believers. Falwell Jr. -- a lawyer -- turned into a dynamic entrepreneur who courted powerful conservative politicos.

On regular Christian campuses, there "are higher expectations for presidents than members of the faculty, and members of the faculty live with greater expectations than students," noted religious-liberty activist David French, writing at The Dispatch.

"Liberty flipped this script. The president lived life with greater freedom than his students or his faculty. The message sent was distinctly unbiblical -- that some Christian leaders can discard integrity provided their other qualifications, from family name to fund-raising prowess, provided sufficient additional benefit."

All of this led to a soap-opera collapse, after flashes of risqué social media


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Podcast: Was Chadwick Boseman's faith a crucial part of his struggles and triumphs?

One of the most powerful roles that mass media play in modern life is the ability to determine who is “cool” and who is not.

During this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in), host Todd Wilken and I discussed how this “cool” factor is not just a matter of style. In the modern world, “cool” tells us who is worthy and who is unworthy, who is smart and who is not, who is wise and who is ridiculous, who is a leader worthy of trust and who is not.

That was a key factor in my post this week about Baltimore Ravens superstar Lamar Jackson and the massive Sports Illustrated profile about his life and talent that didn’t seem very interested in his faith and the biblical reasons for the number on his jersey. Maybe his faith just isn’t “cool”? (Click here for “Hey SI: Is this an important fact? Why does Lamar Jackson wear the number 8 on his back?”)

With that in mind, let me do something that isn’t the norm here at GetReligion, which is turn to scripture. In this case, read the following from 1 Corinthians, chapter 3:

Who then is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye believed, even as the Lord gave to every man?

I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase. So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase.

Now he that planteth and he that watereth are one: and every man shall receive his own reward according to his own labour. For we are labourers together with God: ye are God's husbandry, ye are God's building.

Now, let’s turn our attention to the some of the coverage of the recent death of Hollywood superstar Chadwick Boseman, who died of cancer at age 43. In particular, I want to praise a pair of stories at Religion News Service.

But, first, invest some time and watch the amazing commencement address Boseman delivered two years ago at his alma mater, Howard University (or scan this CNN transcript). As the speech builds, in a quiet but strong crescendo, watch Boseman’s eyes.


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Hey SI: Is this an important fact? Why does Lamar Jackson wear the number 8 on his back?

First things first: I’m a Ravens fan and have been since my first move to the Baltimore area in 1999.

Second, I find the team interesting for reasons linked to religion news. We are not just talking about the life and times of “God’s linebacker,” Hall of Famer Ray Lewis.

As long as I have followed this team, there have been fascinating Ravens storylines linked to religion, culture and even politics. When your team’s CENTER can make faith-based headlines — Matt Birk skipped the White House visit with the Super Bowl champs because of Barack Obama’s abortion stance — you know things are getting interesting.

Then there is head coach John “mighty men” Harbaugh, a Roman Catholic whose outspoken style would be right at home in many African-American pulpits.

Two years ago, Harbaugh and Raven executives made the stunning decision to build their team around a very unconventional quarterback — Lamar “not bad for a running back” Jackson. Then they started talking about his unique, very cool blend of humility and swagger, his commitment to teammates and to helping the city of Baltimore. The team embraced his “Big Truss” slogan, with his emphasis on having trust and faith in teammates and, well, other things.

This brings me to a long, long Sports Illustrated cover story about Jackson and the future of the quarterback position in professional football. The headline: “Lamar Jackson: Quarterback, Redefined.

It’s a great feature if you want to know about Jackson, the football player. No complaints, there. However, SI finally spotted the strong religion “ghost” in this story and devoted all of two paragraphs to it — several thousand words into the text. Hold that thought and, as you read the piece, note the many references to the number “8” that Jackson wears on his back.

Here’s a solid chunk of the text focusing on Jackson and his impact on those around him.

… Coach John Harbaugh had shown up at a press conference wearing a hoodie from Jackson’s Era 8 apparel line, emblazoned — like many of their items — with an African wild dog. A donut chain sold pastries printed with the “Big Truss” team motto based on a Jackson catchphrase, loosely defined as mutual trust (and since changed to “Big Truzz,” to avoid a trademark dispute).


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