doctrine

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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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When facing vaccine-doubters in pews, trust is crucial (as opposed to shame)

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When facing vaccine-doubters in pews, trust is crucial (as opposed to shame)

Donald Trump had to know it was coming, even if -- to use a Bible Belt expression -- he was preaching to his choir.

"You know what? I believe totally in your freedoms," he said, at a rally in Cullman, Ala. "You got to do what you have to do, but I recommend: Take the vaccines. I did it -- it's good."

Videos of this August 21 event make it clear that quite a few people booed this request by the former president.

Truth is, the longer a health crisis lasts, the more pollsters will find that anti-vaccine citizens have "turned into true believers" who are rock-solid in their convictions, said political scientist Ryan Burge of Eastern Illinois University. He is co-founder of the Religion in Public website and a contributor to the GetReligion.org weblog I have led since 2004.

"At this point, the holdouts are the only people that (pollsters) have to talk to. … They've heard everything, and nothing is moving the needle for them," he said. "In fact, it seems like whatever you say to try to change their minds only makes it worse. These hardcore folks are digging in their heels all the more."

When exploring the most recent Data for Progress poll numbers, it's hard to nail down a religion factor in this drama. As summer began, 70% of non-evangelical Protestants had received at least one shot of COVID-19 vaccine -- but so had 62% of both evangelical Protestants and Catholics. As the author of a book entitled "The Nones: Where They Came From, Who They Are, and Where They Are Going," Burge found it significant that only 47% of the religiously unaffiliated reported receiving at least one shot.

"Religion may be a factor, for some people, but it's not the main thing" causing Americans to be reluctant, he said. "Age is clearly the No. 1 factor, even when you factor in politics. Young Republicans and independents are the same. …

"So how do you reach these people? I mean, independents trust authority even less than Republicans do these days."

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Flashback to 'catacomb' Masses after Pope Francis crackdown on the Latin Mass?

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Flashback to 'catacomb' Masses after Pope Francis crackdown on the Latin Mass?

It's easy for religious leaders to create new laws, but it's harder to convince believers to follow them.

At least, that's what the Benediction monk Gratian -- a canon law pioneer -- argued in the 12th century: "Laws are established when they are promulgated. … They are confirmed when they have been approved by the long term and reasoned acceptance of those who observe them."

Anyone doubting this wisdom should study Catholic social media, noted Cardinal Walter Brandmuller, the 92-year-old former leader of the Pontifical Committee for Historical Sciences. There has been a "hurricane" in the "blogger scene and other media" in response to Traditionis Custodes ("Guardians of the tradition"), the effort by Pope Francis to bind those who celebrate the traditional Latin Mass.

When confusion surrounds a new "ecclesiastical law" -- as opposed to scripture and "natural law" doctrines -- it's important to remember that its "validity … ultimately depends on the consent of those affected by it," wrote Brandmuller, at Kath.net in Germany.

"The law must serve the good of the community, and not vice versa. … If a law is not observed, or is no longer observed, whether from the beginning or after a time, it loses its binding force and becomes obsolete."

The pope's declaration has unleased waves of grief among supporters of the now retired Pope Benedict XVI and his apostolic letter Summorum Pontificum ("Of the Supreme Pontiffs"), which claimed the post-Vatican II Novus Ordo was the "ordinary form" for the modern Mass, but that the older Tridentine rite was an "extraordinary form" that could be encouraged.

This fight is "not really about rites at all, wrote Father Raymond J. de Souza, at First Things. It's about Catholic life in the age of the Internet. The Mass is the message."

The question is how Pope Francis will apply his ruling that the modern Mass is now the "unique expression" of the Catholic "lex orandi" (the law of what is prayed). Will this affect Byzantine liturgies used by Eastern Rite Catholics or rites approved for former Anglicans?

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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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It's time for reporters to update their mental images of many Southern Baptist churches

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It's time for reporters to update their mental images of many Southern Baptist churches

Anyone looking for Baptists should head to Greenville, S.C.

"People here say you can throw a rock in one direction and hit a Southern Baptist church and if you throw a rock in the other direction you'll hit an independent Baptist church," said Nathan A. Finn, provost of North Greenville University.

Finn's school -- with strong Southern Baptist ties -- isn't the only brand of "Baptist" life in town. There's the progressive Furman University, as well as the independent Bob Jones University, known for its rock-ribbed Baptist defense of fundamentalism.

The Baptist world is extremely complex and hard for many outsiders to navigate. Some of this confusion, said Finn, affects life inside the most prominent Baptist flock -- the Southern Baptist Convention -- and perceptions of SBC conflicts.

"Lots of people need to understand that Southern Baptists are far more diverse, ethnically and culturally, than they think we are," he said, in a telephone interview. "At the same time, we're more uniformly conservative that we often appear, especially since we spend so much time fighting with each other over some of the small points of theology on which we differ."

With some of these stereotypes in mind, Finn recently fired off a dozen Twitter messages describing different images of real "Southern Baptist" churches that are common today. The goal, he said, was to create "composites of what different kinds of SBC congregations look like" and he gave them "names that are common with certain types of real churches."

There is, of course, a "First Baptist Church" which Finn described as "a downtown church that runs 500 in worship. The church is affluent, which is reflected in their beautiful building. The worship service is traditional. There are lots of programs & committees" and the congregation is known for big donations to the SBC's shared "Cooperative Program" budget.

Then there is one of the megachurches that have dominated the American religious marketplace in recent decades. While the word "Baptist" is missing in its name, Finn noted: "CrossWay Church is a suburban church that runs 1400 in two services. The 'feel' of each service is laid back & contemporary. CrossWay has excellent recreational facilities" and its leaders are "considering launching a second campus."

These big churches frequently make headlines.

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Take that, Benedict XVI: Pope Francis decides Latin Mass is too divisive to embrace

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Take that, Benedict XVI: Pope Francis decides Latin Mass is too divisive to embrace

The message to Catholic traditionalists in Southwest England was blunt, yet pointed.

Because of the new Traditionis Custodes ("Guardians of the tradition") document from Pope Francis, and the wishes of Bishop Declan Lang of the Diocese of Clifton, the upcoming "Latin Mass at Glastonbury will be the final Latin Mass here."

The message delivered to another circle of believers there was quite different. As a "Clifton Diocese Initiative," the "LGBT+ Mass" series at a Bristol church would continue because the bishop "wishes to express pastoral care and concern for our Catholic LGBT+ community."

Thus, the Catholic worship wars rage on.

This bolt of liturgical lightning from Pope Francis struck one of his predecessor's signature achievements. In his 2007 apostolic letter Summorum Pontificum ("Of the Supreme Pontiffs"), the now retired Pope Benedict XVI declared that the post-Vatican II rite was the "ordinary form" for the church, but that the older Latin Mass was an "extraordinary form" and could be encouraged when requested by the faithful.

While Benedict said these rites could coexist, Pope Francis argued -- in a letter accompanying Traditionis Custodes -- that the old Latin Mass has become too divisive.

Benedict was "comforted" by his belief that the "two forms of the … Roman Rite would enrich one another," wrote Pope Francis, but some bishops now believe the Latin Mass has been "exploited to widen the gaps, reinforce the divergences, and encourage disagreements that injure the Church."

Thus, Francis declared, bishops must guarantee that any priests and laity they allow to celebrate the old rite have accepted the validity of Vatican II and its "Novus Ordo" Mass. Bishops may "designate one or more locations where the faithful adherents of these groups may gather" for approved Latin Masses, but these services may not be held in "parochial churches" and there should be no new parishes created for the extraordinary rite.