Mainline churches

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Why did a lion among Church of England evangelicals swim the Tiber to Rome?

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Why did a lion among Church of England evangelicals swim the Tiber to Rome?

As always, rumors swirled around the favorites in the 2002 race to become the 104th Archbishop of Canterbury.

Efforts to derail Bishop Michael Nariz-Ali of Rochester were different, in part because he was born in Pakistan -- fluent in Urdu and Farsi -- and was poised to become the first non-white leader of the Church of England. Others noted that he attended Catholic schools as a boy and practiced that faith.

Progressives warned that Nazir-Ali was too conservative on issues dividing Anglicans. He opposed the ordination of noncelibate gays and lesbians, while defending ancient teachings on marriage. He was a fierce critic of Sharia law and "radical Islam," while defending persecuted Christians around the world Most of all, critics noted that he was a strong evangelical leader in the global Anglican Communion.

Nazir-Ali insisted that he was "evangelical and Catholic," even as he lost his shot at the Throne of Canterbury.

That's the same label that he used when he stunned the Anglican world by announcing that he was returning to Roman Catholicism. He is expected to be ordained as a Catholic priest this Sunday (Oct. 30), serving in the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham, a canonical structure established in 2011 by Pope Benedict XVI that allows Anglicans to enter Catholicism while retaining many Anglican rites and traditions. The 72-year-old Nazir-Ali is married and has two children.

This move was necessary "because I believe that the traditional Anglican desire to adhere to the fullness of apostolic, patristic and conciliar teaching can now best be maintained in this way," the former bishop announced.

Writing in The Daily Mail, he called the decision a "bittersweet moment."

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It's an important political question: Are you a believer or a self-identified believer?

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It's an important political question: Are you a believer or a self-identified believer?

When political scientists and pollsters discuss faith and politics, one of their biggest challenges is separating the true believers from those who merely say they are believers.

It's kind of like distinguishing between "football fans" and "FOOTBALL FANS," said John C. Green of the University of Akron, who for decades has been a trailblazer in studies of politics, pulpits and pews.

"Lots of people say they're football fans and they like to watch games on television," said Green. "Then there are the people who buy jerseys and get decked out in their team colors. They never miss a home game and everything that goes with that. You can just look at them and know that they're really FOOTBALL FANS."

In terms of faith and politics, oceans of ink have been spilled describing the beliefs and goals of evangelical Protestants, Catholics and members of other religious groups, he said. The problem is that there are "self-identified" evangelicals and then there are truly faithful evangelical Christians. There are plenty of people who tell pollsters they attend worship services every week and that their faith shapes their lives. Then there are those who truly walk that talk.

"All religious communities have lots of highly committed people, and all religious communities have their share of marginal members whose faith isn't all that active," said Green. For pollsters, the challenge is asking questions that help draw lines between "self-identified believers and those who are truly active" in their faith groups, he added.

The American Bible Society, in its "State of the Bible" surveys, has tried to document ways in which beliefs about the Bible, and personal interactions with scripture, separate "practicing Christians" from "self-identified Christians." This matters, in part, because religious groups containing a high percentage of committed believers usually maintain their members, or even make converts, while other groups struggle to survive.

The most recent ABS survey (.pdf here) was completed last January, with data collected from 3,354 online interviews with adults in all 50 states and the District of Columbia. The American Bible Society began studying these kinds of issues as early as 1812.

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The gospel according to post-theist Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong

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The gospel according to post-theist Episcopal Bishop John Shelby Spong

Newark Bishop John Shelby Spong never stuck "Why Christianity Must Change or Die" on the doors of Canterbury Cathedral, since it was easier to post a talking-points version of his manifesto on the Internet.

"Theism, as a way of defining God is dead," he proclaimed, in 1998. "Since God can no longer be conceived in theistic terms, it becomes nonsensical to seek to understand Jesus as the incarnation of the theistic deity."

Lacking a personal God, he added, it was logical to add: "Prayer cannot be a request made to a theistic deity to act in human history in a particular way."

Spong's 12-point take on post-theism faith emerged after spending years on the road, giving hundreds of speeches and appearing on broadcasts such as "The Oprah Winfrey Show" and "Larry King Live." While leading the Episcopal Diocese of Newark, within shouting range of New York City, he did everything he could to become the news-media face of liberal Christianity.

By the time of his death at the age of 90, on Sept. 12 at his home in Richmond, Va., Spong had seen many of his once-heretical beliefs -- especially on sex and marriage -- normalized in most Episcopal pulpits and institutions. However, his doctrinal approach was too blunt for many in the mainline establishment, where a quieter "spiritual but not religious" approach has become the norm.

Spong called himself a "doubting believer" and said he had no problem reciting traditional rites and creeds because, in his own mind, he had already redefined the words and images to fit his own doctrines. He also knew when to be cautious, such as during Denver visit in the late 1980s -- an era in which the Diocese of Colorado remained a center for evangelical and charismatic Episcopalians.

After a lecture at the liberal St. Thomas Episcopal Church, I asked Spong if he believed the resurrection of Jesus was an "historic event that took place in real time."

"I don't think that I can say what the disciples believed they experienced. I'll have to think about that some more," he said, moving on to another question.

The bishop answered a decade later, in his memo calling for a new Reformation:

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What shaped the mysterious mind (and soul) of comedian Norm Macdonald?

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What shaped the mysterious mind (and soul) of comedian Norm Macdonald?

While debating heretics, early Christians used the Greek term "hypostasis" -- meaning "substance" and "subsistence" -- to help define their belief in the Incarnation of Jesus as one person, yet with divine and human natures.

This "hypostatic union" is not the kind of subject a comedian typically raises on a TV talk show while chatting about mortality with a Hollywood legend. Then again, Norm Macdonald -- who died on September 14 after a secret nine-year fight with cancer -- wasn't a typical funny man. He openly identified as a Christian, while making it clear that he didn't consider himself a very good one.

During an episode of "Norm Macdonald has a Show," the former Saturday Night Live star asked Jane Fonda -- who at one point briefly embraced evangelical Christianity -- this question: "Are you a religious person?"

"I have faith," said Fonda. The host quickly asked, "In Jesus Christ?" Hesitating, Fonda called herself "a work in process," saying she accepted "the historical Jesus."

Macdonald responded: "But do you believe in the hypostatic Jesus?"

When Fonda said "no," he added, "So, you're not a Christian. But you believe, you believe in something."

Raised vaguely Protestant in Canada, Macdonald didn't discuss the brand-name specifics of his faith, even as he wrestled with his own demons -- such as habitual gambling. Yet he could be stunningly specific when addressing criticisms of Christian beliefs. As a judge on NBC's "Last Comic Standing," he quietly shot down a contestant who trashed the Bible, before praising the Harry Potter series.

"I think if you're going to take on an entire religion, you should maybe know what you're talking about," said Macdonald. "J.K. Rowling is a Christian, and J.K. Rowling famously said that if you're familiar with the scriptures, you could easily guess the ending of her book."

The result was a public persona laced with paradoxes, an edgy, courageous comic who often seemed unconcerned if his work pleased the public or his employers.

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United Methodist divorce nears, while denomination's left wing Zooms to the left

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United Methodist divorce nears, while denomination's left wing Zooms to the left

As one of the founders of the United Methodist Centrist Movement, the Rev. Doug Damron spend years hiding his rejection of his church's rule that the "practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching."

Centrists used a "perfectly delicious" theological platform defined by words such as "unity," "peace" and "moderate," he said, during a recent guest sermon at the historic Broad Church United Methodist Church in Columbus, Ohio. After decades of fighting about sex, many hoped "traditionalists" and "progressives" could keep "United" attached to "Methodist."

The goal was "compromise," he said, a "sweet word" that hid a "status quo of oppression." But there was "an institution to protect" and many clergy feared being honest. Thus, they didn't openly attack the denomination's Book of Discipline.

"By nature, I am a rule follower," he said. "I knew that such defiance may have cost me my clergy credentials."

Now it's time for candor and courage, said Damron. When United Methodists finally split, conservatives will build a church defined "by who they will exclude today and who they will exclude tomorrow." The question is whether progressives will act on their convictions.

"It is time to speak into existence, following the Spirit's leading, a church which fully welcomes, includes, affirms not only God's beloved gay and lesbian ones, but a host of other folks who have found the door of the church closed," he said. This would include embracing and ordaining "trans folks, bi folks, kink folks, poly folk, gender-fluid folk and others."

The United Methodist clock kept ticking this summer, even as COVID-19 realities delayed -- again -- votes on the "Protocol of Reconciliation and Grace Through Separation" negotiated by activists on the left and right. The General Conference will not meet until August 2022, since the UMC establishment has declined to take actions in virtual forums.

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Working to save significant, yet 'friendless,' churches in England and Wales

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Working to save significant, yet 'friendless,' churches in England and Wales

The structure of St. Baglan's Church in North Wales is simple, with plastered stone walls and whitewashed timbers between the slate slabs of its roof and floor.

The 13th Century sanctuary was rebuilt in the 1800s, but the carved doorway lintel dates from the 5th or 6th century. An adjacent field contains the 7th Century well of St. Baglan and for ages the faithful sought healing in its waters.

"This church was built on the site of an earlier church and there were sanctuaries here before that. People in Wales have been coming to sites like this for worship back into pre-Christian times," said Rachel Morley, director of the Friends of Friendless Churches since 2018.

During a visit to Llanfaglan parish in Wales, this tiny, abandoned sanctuary was surrounded by sea mists and low clouds from the mountains, she said. Then the sunset light over the Irish Sea "shot under the eaves and the church lit up inside with golden light. It was a complete sensory overload. That had to mean something."

Was this church designed so that this light would illumine the prayers of evensong? That's the kind of question members of the Friends of Friendless Churches have been asking since 1957, when Welsh journalist Ivor Bulmer-Thomas founded the charity with the help of poet T.S. Eliot, artist John Piper, British politician Roy Harris Jenkins and others.

The goal was to preserve historic, "significant" churches "threatened by demolition, decay, or inappropriate conversion." By the end of 2021, the charity will control 60 churches in England and Wales, almost all of them Anglican sanctuaries.

Year after year, the Friends of Friendless Churches watch as 30 or so truly historic churches go on sale and "there could be many more closed at any time," said Morley, reached by telephone.

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Under the 'nones' umbrella: America's 'nothing in particular' believers are a big story

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Under the 'nones' umbrella: America's 'nothing in particular' believers are a big story

While working on the 1985 book "Habits of the Heart," the late sociologist Robert N. Bellah met "Sheila," who described her faith in words that researchers have quoted ever since.

"I can't remember the last time I went to church," she said. "My faith has carried me a long way. It's Sheilaism. Just my own little voice." The goal was to "love yourself and be gentle with yourself. … I think God would want us to take care of each other."

A decade later, during the so-called "New Age" era, researchers described a similar faith approach with this mantra -- "spiritual but not religious."

Then in the 21st Century's first decade, the Pew Research Center began charting a surge of religiously unaffiliated Americans, describing this cohort in a 2012 report with this newsy label -- "nones."

Do the math. "Nones" were 10% of America's population in 1996, 15% in 2006, 20% in 2014 and 26% in 2019. This stunning trend linked many stories that I have covered for decades, since this past week marked my 33rd anniversary writing this national "On Religion" column.

Obviously, these evolving labels described a growing phenomenon in public and private life, said political scientist Ryan Burge of Eastern Illinois University, author of the new book, "The Nones: Where They Came From, Who They Are, and Where They Are Going."

But hidden under that "nones" umbrella are divisions that deserve attention. For example, the 2018 Cooperative Congressional Election Study found that 5.7% of the American population is atheist, 5.7% agnostic and 19.9% "nothing in particular."

"When you say 'nones' and all you think about is atheists and agnostics, then you're not seeing the big picture," said Burge, who is a contributor at the GetReligion.org website I have led since 2004. "Atheists have a community. Atheists have a belief system. They are highly active when it comes to politics and public institutions.

"But these 'nothing in particular' Americans don't have any of that. They're struggling. They're disconnected from American life in so many ways."

In his book, Burge stressed that "nothing in particulars are one of the most educationally and economically disadvantaged groups in the United States today."

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Internet evangelism? For clergy, that's a good news-bad news discussion right now

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Internet evangelism? For clergy, that's a good news-bad news discussion right now

Even before the coronavirus crisis, this question haunted pastors: What in God's name are we supposed to do with the internet?

American clergy aren't the only ones wrestling with this puzzle. Consider this advice -- from Moscow -- about online personality cults.

"A priest, sometimes very young, begins to think that he is an experienced pastor -- so many subscribers! -- able to answer the many questions that come to him in virtual reality," noted Patriarch Kirill, leader of the Russian Orthodox Church, at a recent diocesan conference. "Such clerics often lose the ability to accept any criticism, and not only on the internet, or respond to objections with endless arguments."

Pastors eventually have to ask, he added, if their online work is leading people through parish doors and into face-to-face faith communities.

"That is the question of the hour, for sure," said Savannah Kimberlin, director of published research for the Barna Group. Recent surveys have convinced Barna researchers that "the future church will be a blend of digital and in-person work. But it's up to us to decide what that will look like. …

"But isn't that true of our society as a whole? There are digital solutions for so many issues in our lives, right now. … But we can also see people yearning for more than that -- for experiences of contact with others in a community."

In a recent survey, 81% of churchgoing adults affirmed that "experiencing God alongside others" was very important to them, she said. At the same time, a majority of those surveyed said they hoped their congregations would continue some forms of online ministry in the future.

Similar paradoxes emerge when researchers studied evangelistic efforts to reach people who are "unchurched" or completely disconnected from religious institutions.

Half of all unchurched adults (52%), along with 73% of non-Christians, said they are not interested in invitations to church activities. However, a new Barna survey -- cooperating with Alpha USA, a nondenominational outreach group -- found that 41% of non-Christians said they were open to "spiritual conversations about Christianity" if the setting felt friendly.

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Here we go again: Believers face complicated choices in #2020 COVID-tide

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Here we go again: Believers face complicated choices in #2020 COVID-tide

Rather than preparing for a joyous Christmastide, believers are making tough decisions about how to celebrate during a season some call COVID-tide.

What about that beloved Christmas cantata or children's pageant? Government regulations about singing vary nationwide.

All those parties and dinners on the December calendar? Church officials may shut them down or, perhaps, look the other way.

The most emotional question: What about Christmas Eve, with glowing sanctuaries full of families gathered from near and afar dressed in festive holiday attire? In most churches some members will be allowed inside, while others stay home -- as during 2020's Holy Week and Easter -- holding candles while facing computer screens.

No one knows what will happen, especially in Protestant flocks where holiday traditions are more flexible and evolve from year to year.

Nevertheless, about 50% of American adults who typically go to church at Christmas hope to do so, according to a study by LifeWay Research in Nashville. In fact, another 15% of participants in the online survey said they were more likely to attend a service this year. However, 35% of typical churchgoers said they're more likely to stay home.

"About 50% of America are saying, 'We're going to do what we're going to do,' " said Tim McConnell, LifeWay's executive director. Since this survey was done before the recent coronavirus spike, "that makes things even more unpredictable" than they were already.

The survey results seem deceptively ordinary, but tensions emerge in key details. The survey focused on believers, and the unchurched, but included an oversample of self-identified evangelical Protestants.

"It's easy to look at these numbers and see that half the people say they will be having Christmas as usual. Then there's another group of people who say they plan to do even more," he said. "Then you look at the bigger picture and there's that other third that's missing. That's probably the large group of Americans who are older and at higher risk. …