This Friday “Parents Night Out” program uses non-religious crafts and games, which is important because the Presbyterian flock’s leaders insist that it’s open to parents of any “creed, color, party or orientation.” It helps to know that this evangelical church is located in New York City’s Greenwich Village and meets in rented space in Public School 3.

“We’re New Yorkers and we know all about the incredible diversity of life in the Village,” said the Rev. Sam Andreades, a former computer professional with a New York University graduate degree. “We’re trying to be part of that diversity. We live here.”

The question, however, is whether the Village Church will get to stay where it is, pending the resolution of an old church-state clash that is probably headed back to the U.S. Supreme Court. It is one of 60 churches that rent space — outside of school hours — in New York City’s nearly 1,700 schools. About 10,000 non-religious groups take advantage of the same opportunity.

The question that vexes some educators is whether it’s acceptable for churches to worship in their buildings. This is currently allowed under equal-access laws that have become common nationwide in recent decades.

At the heart of the debate is a 2001 Supreme Court decision — Good News Club vs. Milford Central School — that instructed educators to offer religious groups the same opportunity to use public-school facilities as secular groups. School leaders can elect to close their buildings to secular and religious groups alike, thus avoiding discrimination.

Now, the Second Circuit of the United States Court of Appeals has challenged this status quo. In a 2-1 decision, it backed New York City school board attempts to ban regular worship services in its facilities, while allowing for some other forms of religious expression by religious groups.

“When worship services are performed in a place, the nature of the site changes,” wrote Judge Pierre N. Leval. “The site is no longer simply in a room in school being used temporarily for some activity. … The place has, at least for a time, become the church.”

The implication is that a “mysterious transformation” literally takes place during these worship services, noted Jordan Lorence of the Alliance Defense Fund, a lawyer who has been involved in equal-access cases in New York City and elsewhere for a quarter of a century.

“There isn’t some kind of architectural alchemy at work here that suddenly turns a school facility into a dangerous place,” he said. “Allowing unions to rent space in schools doesn’t turn them into union halls. Allowing Alcoholics Anonymous to use a school doesn’t turn it into the Betty Ford Clinic.”

However, this ongoing conflict is evidence that many New Yorkers are spooked by the thought of people — especially evangelicals — worshipping in spaces created for secular education. The bottom line: What if believers dared to pray for the students and teachers who occupy those spaces on school days?

In a New York Times essay, activist Katherine Stewart explained why she fiercely opposes having a church meet behind the red door of her local school on the Upper East Side. She also attacked the Village Church by name.

“I could go on about why my daughter’s photo should not be made available for acts of worship, or why my P.T.A. donations should not be used to supply furniture for a religious group that thinks I am bound for hell,” concluded the author of the upcoming book, “The Good News Club: The Christian Right’s Stealth Assault on America’s Children.”

“Maybe it’s just that I imagine that that big red door is about education for all, not salvation for a few. Sometimes a building is more than a building.”

The most disturbing theme in these arguments, said Andreades, is the frequent claim that his church and others like it are somehow aliens in their city. Renting space in PS3, he noted, allows his small flock to invest 10 percent of its budget into Village charities — from an AIDS research center to programs for shut-ins, from arts projects to soup kitchens.

“This church has been in the Village for 16 years,” he said. “We’ve had members attend that public school and teach at it. … We know who we are and where we are and we think we belong here.”

“Thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness. … The foolish shall not stand in thy sight: thou hatest all workers of iniquity,” warned the psalmist.

Obviously, says the Rev. Fred Phelps of Westboro Baptist Church, this passage teaches that God hates the evil liberals who run the Southern Baptist Convention, along with legions of other Americans.

Phelps also believes that God hates the pope and plenty of other religious leaders who are called “conservatives,” “traditionalists” and even “fundamentalists” in public debates about faith, morality and culture.

Southern Baptists are too liberal? Yes, that’s why activists from the independent Westboro Baptist congregation in Topeka, Kan., like to picket major SBC meetings carrying those now familiar signs with slogans such as, “Thank God for Dead Soldiers,” “God Hates America,” “Thank God for AIDS” and, of course, “God Hates Fags.”

With Westboro Baptist, up is down and down is up.

It may take months for the U.S. Supreme Court to rule on the First Amendment puzzle that is the clash between Phelps and Albert Snyder, the grieving father of Marine Lance Cpl. Matthew Snyder. A Westboro Baptist team held a protest near the Catholic funeral of Snyder’s son and church leaders also posted a website screed claiming that the divorced father raised his son to “serve the devil.” A Maryland court gave Snyder $5 million, but the award was overturned.

Behind this pain and grief is a thicket of legal and journalistic thorns.

This is a case in which the mainstream press has spilled oceans of ink attacking Phelps’ flock. Nevertheless, the core facts provoked the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press and 21 news organizations to file a friend-of-the-court brief supporting the church’s right to hold legal protests and for journalists to cover them. News executives are especially worried because the protesters complied with all restrictions imposed by civic officials, including moving their demonstration away from the church. Snyder saw their hateful slogans in news reports and on the Internet.

This is case in which scholars have struggled to find a way to defend the free speech and religious liberty rights of Westboro believers, as well as the religious liberty and privacy rights of grieving family members.

In a reluctant defense of Phelps, a New York Times editorial quoted Justice Felix Frankfurter: “It is a fair summary of history to say that the safeguards of liberty have often been forged in controversies involving not very nice people.” I once heard a church-state scholar put it this way: “Your religious liberties have been purchased for you by believers with whom you wouldn’t necessarily want to have dinner.”

What about the American Civil Liberties Union? After all, in the 1970s this organization backed the right of neo-Nazis to march through Skokie, Ill., a small community that was home to a large number of Holocaust survivors.

In a court brief backing Westboro Baptist, “we pointed out that the First Amendment’s protection of freedom of speech guarantees that no one can be found liable for merely expressing an opinion about a matter of public concern, regardless of how hurtful those opinions might be,” noted Chris Hampton, a leader in ACLU efforts to promote lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender causes.

The goal, she added, is to protect First Amendment principles that have been “essential to the advancement of civil rights, including the civil rights of LGBT people. Allowing Fred Phelps to speak his mind may be difficult, but chipping away at one of the fundamental principles on which our country was founded is far, far worse for all of us in the long run.”

This is, of course, precisely the kind of liberal thinking that Phelps condemns out of hand, even when voiced by religious conservatives. According to his reading of Psalm 5 and many other scripture passages, Phelps believes that God hates what he calls “kissy-pooh” sermons that refuse to proclaim that God never, ever forgives homosexuals and many other sinners.

The Westboro website once warned preachers who claim that God will forgive those who repent, no matter what: “You are going to Hell! Period! End of discussion! God’s decree sending you to Hell is irreversible! Hypocrites!”

“That’s Bible preaching,” Phelps told Baptist Press, in a 2003 interview about his beliefs. “You tell [people] that God loves everybody? You’re lying on God.”

This isn’t a large number of worshippers in the pews of 47 parishes — roughly the same number that would attend weekend Masses in two or three healthy Catholic parishes in a typical American city.

Episcopal attendance in New Hampshire fell sharply between 2003 and 2007, which is the most recent statistical year available (pdf). Meanwhile, this diocese had 15,621 members in 2003 and 14,160 in 2007 — a loss of 9.4 percent. The entire Diocese of New Hampshire is about the same size as many individual Protestant megachurches.

However, the influential bishop of this little diocese recently told the New York Times that things have been fine since 2003, when he was consecrated in a rite that rocked the global Anglican Communion.

“There are 15,000 people in the diocese of New Hampshire,” claimed the Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson, in what he stressed was an exclusive interview during the national General Convention. This convention made more headlines by approving the selection of gays and lesbians for “any ordained ministry,” which means Robinson may soon lose his status as the Episcopal Church’s only openly gay, non-celibate bishop.

“We have received so many Roman Catholics and young families,” he said, “particularly families who are saying, ‘We don’t want to raise our daughters in a church that doesn’t value young people.’ ” In fact, the bishop insisted that his diocese “grew by 3 percent last year.”

If this early 2008 report is true, then Robinson and his diocese will be in the news again — offering proof that a liberalized Christianity can lead to growth, rather than decline. If that happens, many reporters will receive a smattering of calls and emails from amazed readers asking: “Why do the Episcopalians get so much news coverage?”

That’s a good question, since the Episcopal Church — with a mere 2 million members — often draws more attention than the Southern Baptist Convention, the Assemblies of God and several other major denominations combined.

What’s going on? After 30 years on the religion beat, I have decided that several factors are at work.

* Many of the Episcopal Church’s most vocal leaders — such as Robinson — work in the Northeast near elite media institutions. The church’s national offices are in New York City. Meanwhile, Episcopal cathedrals elsewhere are usually in urban centers that dominate regional media. For journalists, the Episcopalians are nearby.

* Conservatives have, for decades, been on the outside looking in when the Episcopal establishment made crucial decisions, in part because many conservative dioceses are in the Sunbelt far from the action. But in the Internet age, even conservatives are seeking, and getting, more media attention.

* Colorful photographs and video clips are crucial and it’s hard to offer compelling coverage of convention centers and churches full of clergy in dull business suits. Episcopalians, however, know how to dress up. In fact, their bishops even look like the leaders of the Roman Catholic Church — the biggest religion-news game in town.

* The true religion of journalism is politics and Episcopalians love to talk politics — from global warming to feminism, from multiculturalism to military spending, from national health care to gay rights. And in recent decades the denomination’s stands on controversial social issues have meshed nicely with the editorial stands taken by America’s most powerful media corporations.

The bottom line: Episcopalians wear religious garb, work in convenient urban sanctuaries and speak the lingo of progressive politics. Their leaders look like Catholics and think like journalists.

It also helps to remember that the Episcopal Church’s roots connect to Church of England, which gives it a unique role in American history, noted Bishop William Frey of the Diocese of the Rio Grande, who was a media professional before seeking ordination. This small, well-established denomination has helped shape the lives of 11 presidents, 35 U.S. Supreme Court justices and legions of journalists.

Like it our not, the Episcopal Church occupies its own corner in the public square — which leads to news coverage.

Is that a good thing? Sometimes Frey isn’t sure.

“I can’t understand why some people want the kind of media attention that we get year after year,” he said, during one media storm in the 1980s. “I mean, that’s like coveting another man’s root canal.”

The invitation to the Chicago gathering stated: “This is an off-the-record (no media) time for questioning and listening, with no expectation of endorsement.”

But it’s one thing to keep Obama’s answers off the record. As soon as the two-hour meeting was over, some participants began talking and writing about the questions they had asked.

“I was concerned after three or four general questions that we wouldn’t ask the most important questions,” wrote Strang, the founder of Charisma Magazine. “So I raised my hand. … I said, ‘Senator, I want to ask a question I’m sure you are expecting regarding your position on abortion. I represent a segment of the church where nearly everyone considers the issue of supporting life to be the most important issue and where nearly everyone would be opposed to abortion. I want to ask what your stand on abortion is and if you believe what I think you believe, how you justify that with your Christian faith.”

Strang said Obama offered a surprisingly “centrist,” 15-minute answer. Since the evangelical entrepreneur had read the Obama’s “Audacity of Hope” memoir, he recognized that the response came from its “Faith” chapter.

Thus, it’s likely that the presumptive Democratic nominee retold the story of the University of Chicago doctor who gently challenged a statement on a U.S. Senate campaign website pledging that Obama would fight “right-wing ideologues who want to take away a woman’s right to choose.” The doctor’s email said he wasn’t asking Obama to oppose abortion, but to begin addressing “this issue in fair-minded words.”

Obama told his staff to drop the offensive language, in recognition of the fact that many abortion opponents want sincere, sober discussions instead of more shouting. About that time, a member of a polite, pro-life family protesting outside an Obama rally called out: “I will pray for you. I will pray that you have a change of heart.”

Thus, Obama wrote: “Neither my mind nor my heart changed that day, not did they in the days to come. But I did have that family in mind as I wrote back to the doctor and thanked him for his email. … I said a prayer of my own — that I might extend the same presumption of good faith to others that the doctor had extended to me.”

After the Chicago meeting, online reports by Strang and others said the leaders discussed a wide variety of issues, from the Iraq war to same-sex marriage, from genocide in Darfur to religious liberty issues here at home. A spokesman for the Rev. Franklin Graham said that the head of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association asked if Obama “thought Jesus was the way to God, or merely a way” — but did not report the response. There were conflicting reports about whether Graham and Obama exchanged a hug or a handshake.

But abortion remains a high hurdle in an era when several U.S. Supreme Court justices are near retirement.

Is change possible? In “The Audacity of Hope,” Obama noted that many opponents of abortion are willing to “bend principle” in cases of rape and incest. Meanwhile, the willingness of “even the most ardent” of pro-abortion-rights advocates to “accept some restrictions on late-term abortion marks a recognition that a fetus is more than a body part.”

The key, stressed Strang, was that the Chicago meeting even took place, allowing frank discussion of such bitterly divisive issues.

Rather than merely talking to the religious left, Obama’s staff offered him a chance to talk and pray with a variety of evangelical and Pentecostal leaders — such as author Max Lucado of San Antonio, Rich Cizik of the National Association of Evangelicals, Bishop T.D. Jakes of Dallas and many others.

“Obama seemed to have the support of at least half of the 43 leaders who attended the Chicago meeting,” noted Strang. “In my opinion, he ‘made points’ with the rest.”

David Brody of the Christian Broadcasting Network was even more blunt about the meeting’s political implications.

“Folks, this is an important development,” he said. “It shows that the game has changed. Old rules don’t apply. We’re in uncharted territory. John McCain’s religious outreach team has to now step to the plate and work hard for faith voters.”

So Barack Obama caused raised eyebrows when he turned to that page in the evangelical songbook during the 2004 Democratic National Convention.

“We worship an awesome God in the Blue States,” he said, in the speech that made him a rising star. “We coach Little League in the Blue States and have gay friends in the Red States. … We are one people.”

Obama has mixed gospel images and liberal politics ever since and his ability to reach pews without frightening the skeptical elites is crucial to his White House hopes.

Thus, all kinds of people paid close attention last week when he spoke to the 50th anniversary convention of the United Church of Christ, a small flock that has proudly set the pace for liberal Christianity. At the heart of his speech was his own spiritual rebirth two decades ago, when he responded to an altar call by the Rev. Jeremiah Wright Jr. at Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago.

“He introduced me to someone named Jesus Christ,” said Obama. “I learned that my sins could be redeemed. I learned that those things I was too weak to accomplish myself, He would accomplish with me if I placed my trust in Him. And in time, I came to see faith as more than just a comfort to the weary or a hedge against death, but rather as an active, palpable agent in the world and in my own life.

But it certainly raised eyebrows when the gay-rights group publicly thanked the Rev. Jerry Falwell. The result was an odd little news story that, at first glance, made about as much sense as the Southern Baptist Convention throwing a party for its friends at the Walt Disney Co.

The story began with Falwell defending volunteer legal work that Supreme Court nominee John Roberts did during a key court battle over homosexual rights.

“I may not agree with the lifestyle. But that has nothing to do with the civil rights of that part of our constituency,” said Falwell, on MSNBC’s “The Situation with Tucker Carlson.”

“Judge Roberts would probably have been not a good very good lawyer if he had not been willing, when asked by his partners in the law firm, to assist in guaranteeing the civil rights of employment and housing to any and all Americans.”

Falwell plunged on, denying that he had changed his stance on extending “special rights” to homosexuals as a minority group. Equal access to housing and employment are basic rights, he said.

“Civil rights for all Americans, black, white, red, yellow, the rich, poor, young, old, gay, straight, etc., is not a liberal or conservative value,” said Falwell. “It’s an American value that I would think that we pretty much all agree on.”

It was half a loaf, but gay-rights leaders grabbed it.

The Rev. Mel White of Soulforce — a group based near Falwell’s evangelical empire in Lynchburg, Va. — immediately set out to verify if his former employer had meant to say what he had said. Before coming out as a gay activist in the early 1990s, White was a seminary professor and superstar ghostwriter who worked with the Rev. Billy Graham, Pat Robertson, Oliver North, Jim Bakker and, yes, Falwell.

How well does White know Falwell? Twenty years ago, he wrote his autobiography. The men have matched wits and sound bites ever since.

After reading Falwell’s remarks, White immediately touched base with Ron Godwin, the former executive director of the Moral Majority.

“I asked him three questions,” said White, during a trip last week to Washington, D.C. “I asked, ‘Did Jerry say it?’ He said, ‘Yes.’ I asked, ‘Did Jerry mean it?’ He said, ‘Yes.’ I asked, ‘Will Jerry retract it?’ He said, ‘No.’

“I said, ‘Thank Jerry for that.’ “

Godwin confirmed that he talked to White on a recent Sunday morning, which isn’t strange since White and his partner Gary Nixon frequently attend Thomas Road Baptist Church to monitor what Falwell says about sexuality and politics in the pulpit. They have been known to stand up in silent protest when the preacher says something that they believe is wrong.

Members of Falwell’s team, said Godwin, cannot understand why White and others think the religious broadcaster has changed his tune on crucial issues linked to sexuality, marriage and civil rights. In this case, Falwell was merely restating his belief that homosexuals should not be denied civil rights they have as individual American citizens.

“We’re not talking about the unique and special rights that are assigned to people in protected minority groups,” said Godwin, who is now president of Jerry Falwell Ministries. “I understand that Mel has a strong desire to gain recognition for his cause. … But Jerry Falwell is what he is and this 72-year-old Baptist was not trying to send some kind of subtle, oblique message that he has changed what he believes.”

Obviously, White disagrees. He believes that, whether he wants to admit it or not, Falwell has changed some of the language that he uses to describe homosexuals and, in disputes that are theological as much as political, those words matter.

“I have known Jerry a long time and I think this was a serious change in his life,” said White. “Never before has he said that he recognized us as a class — as a protected class — like other Americans. Now he has included us as gay and straight, right in there with black and white, man and woman, rich and poor, young and old and everybody else. That’s important.”

And all the people said: “It’s the economy, stupid.”

But what if an elite team of Democrats ventured outside the Beltway to talk to rural and red-zone voters in Arkansas, Wisconsin, Colorado and Kentucky and learned that the economic bottom line was no longer the political bottom line?

Focus-group researchers from the Democracy Corp in Washington, D.C., found that voters in Middle America are worried about Iraq and they are mad about rising health costs. That’s good for Democrats. Many of them fiercely oppose abortion on demand and gay marriage. That’s good news for Republicans. But the researchers also mapped a political fault line that cuts into the soul of Middle America.

“Regardless of voters’ attitudes on the role of religion in public life or their position on touchstone issues such as abortion and gay marriage or even their personal religious faith, they all see Republicans as a party with a clear and consistent position on cultural issues and an abiding respect for the importance of faith and traditional social norms,” said the researchers, in sobering document released earlier this month.

“Democrats’ lack of a consistent stance on cultural issues leaves a vacuum that is clearly being filled by voices on the right. Most referred to Democrats as ‘liberal’ on issues of morality, but some even go so far as to label them ‘immoral,’ ‘morally bankrupt,’ or even ‘anti-religious.’ “

This kind of verbiage is old hat among GOP conservatives. But it’s stunning to see this language in a report produced by a trinity of Democratic campaign strategists like Stanley Greenberg, Robert Shrum and, lo and behold, Carville.

The new bottom line: “It’s the values, stupid.”

Democrats are getting used to hearing about a “pew gap” between the political parties. This has caused tension between moderates and liberals as Democrats focus on defending abortion rights and working with gay-marriage strategists. Party leaders must have been thinking about the “pew gap” when they rejected Naral Pro-Choice America’s blistering media campaign that said U.S. Supreme Court nominee John G. Roberts Jr. — a traditional Roman Catholic — had winked at “violence against other Americans.”

Politicos on both sides can quote the numbers and then bicker over what they mean. Everyone knows that 22 percent of the 2004 voters said they yearned for “moral values,” with evangelical Protestants surging to George W. Bush. The president won 52 percent of the Catholic vote and nearly 60 percent of the total Protestant vote. Bush won a two-thirds majority among Orthodox Jews. Among Hispanics and African-Americans, the most active churchgoers began drifting to the GOP.

Looking back, Voter News Service found that 14 percent of the voters in 2000 said they attended worship services more than once a week and 14 percent said they never went at all. Among the devout, Bush won by 27 percent and, among those who avoid pews, Democrat Al Gore won by 29 percent.

According to the Democracy Corp report, Democrats are making progress with highly educated, upper-income Americans. But they have lost a key element of the old Democratic coalition — voters in rural areas and blue-collar neighborhoods, especially in Middle America. The researchers were mystified that these voters continue to act “contrary to their own economic self-interest.”

Up is down. In is out. Many upper-crust Americans are also voting contrary to their own economic self-interest and backing Democrats, even though this may mean more taxes and business regulations. Why? They support the Democratic Party’s stance on social issues such as abortion, gay rights and the role of religion in public life.

These moral issues are steering heartland voters, serving “as a proxy” for other concerns, according to the Democracy Corp report.

“With most voters expressing little understanding of the differences between Democrats and Republicans or the relative merits of their positions on economic policy, health care, retirement security, and other issues, they felt it safe to assume that if a candidate was ‘right’ on cultural issues — i.e. opposed to abortion, but most importantly opposed to gay marriage and vocal about defending the role of faith and traditional Judeo-Christian values in public life — that candidate would naturally also come closest to their views.”