evangelicals

Question for church leaders: Is your congregation ready to help young widowers?

Question for church leaders: Is your congregation ready to help young widowers?

There was no way that Christmas was going to be easy for Daniel Brooker and his two young children after his wife Lyndsie lost her 10-year battle with cancer.

At their church, friends cautiously asked if Brooker and one of his kids wanted to play a role in the Christmas service -- making their story part of a season of new life.

"My church saw ME, as a person" that first Christmas, said Brooker, a 37-year-old marketing specialist for a team of financial advisors near Atlanta. It was crucial that this offer "gave us something to do, something that didn't ask us to hide what was happening. … They offered us this opportunity and let me think about it. They didn't force anything."

That positive experience became part of the process that led Brooker and an all-volunteer team of widowers, mentors, pastors and friends to create Refuge Widowers, a ministry for men who have lost their wives, especially young men with children.

This work grew out of the conviction, he said, that religious congregations have long demonstrated the ability to rally around widows -- in part because women often play crucial roles in hospitality and care-giving ministries.

"Women are gifted at this. They know what to do," said Brooker, who has since married a widow, Brittany, with three children of her own. "As much as I love the church, I've learned things are often different for widowers. … Church people aren't trained to step in and fight through grief with a man."

Yes, the faithful brought food and gift cards after his wife's death. Some people volunteered with child-care as he tried to create new patterns for work and home life. Before long, however, many assumed that the best way to help was to funnel Brooker into the singles group. "Folks really didn't know what to do with me," he said.

Eventually, he met another young widower, and began building a support network. This evolved into RefugeeWidowers.com, which worked with 14 men in 2020, 16 in its second year and 18 this year.

When is Christmas? That depends on the person asking

When is Christmas? That depends on the person asking

On church calendars, parents and grandparents circle this December event with red ink.

The problem for clergy is simple: When do they schedule that special Christmas service, or that concert full of Christmas classics?

"Evangelicals, and especially Baptists, tend to be rather pragmatic about these decisions. We want the most bang for our bucks and we want as many people as possible" in the pews, said Joshua Waggener, professor of church music and worship at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth, Texas.

One thing is certain: "You have to have those little kids up there singing 'Little Drummer Boy.' It's pragmatic. For most people, I don't think theology has anything to do with" the timing.

This reality affects when churches schedule special events, especially in December -- when their members wrestle with school calendars, travel, office parties, family traditions and, yes, worship services. Meanwhile, civic groups, shopping malls and mass media offer "The Holidays," a cultural tsunami that begins weeks before Thanksgiving.

In churches with centuries of liturgical traditions, the Nativity of Our Lord Jesus Christ is Dec. 25, following the quiet season of Advent (Latin for "toward the coming"). This year, Christmas falls on Sunday and, for Catholics, Anglicans and others, the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass is one of the year's most popular rites. This opens a festive season that continues through Jan. 6, the Feast of the Epiphany. Many Eastern Orthodox Christians follow the ancient Julian calendar and celebrate Christmas on Jan. 7, after Nativity Lent.

In the United States, some kind of Christmas Eve service remains the big draw, according to almost half (48%) of Protestant pastors contacted in a new study by Lifeway Research. The frequency of high-attendance church events builds until Christmas Eve, then declines sharply.

In this survey, mainline Protestant clergy (60%) were more likely than evangelicals (44%) to say Christmas Eve rites drew the most people, with Lutherans (84%) being the most likely to worship on Christmas Eve. In general, evangelical pastors (30%) said their high-attendance events came during the third week of December (30%).

Some churches fared better than others with events earlier in December.

Latest empty tomb, inc., numbers: Do churches still have funds for charity and missions?

Latest empty tomb, inc., numbers: Do churches still have funds for charity and missions?

Back in the heady church-growth days of the 1980s and 1990s, researchers John and Sylvia Ronsvalle began hearing caution creep into their interviews with church leaders.

Denominational leaders were especially uncomfortable when asked about declines in giving to overseas missions and projects to help the poor.

Sylvia Ronsvalle said the leader of one large congregation gave this blunt response: "Ah! No! We can't promote missions because there won't be enough for our seminaries." She responded: "Well, I think people would be more interested in your seminaries if you were actually impacting global needs in Jesus' name."

That encounter, and many others, ended up in "Behind the Stained Glass Windows: Money Dynamics in the Church," one of many publications the Ronsvalles have produced while leading empty tomb, inc. Their center also serves as a hub for missions in Champaign, Illinois, their home for 50 years.

Danger signs began decades ago. Giving to religious groups -- defined in terms of potential donations based on after-tax incomes -- peaked in 1960 and then began to decline, even as church membership numbers and budgets kept rising.

This trend "pre-dated many of the controversial issues that were to emerge by the end of the 1960s," noted the 31st annual empty tomb report, based on 2019 numbers. In mainline and evangelical denominations "per member giving in current dollars, as well as in inflation-adjusted dollars and as a portion of income" was lower in 2019 than the year before.

Then COVID-19 hit. But the pandemic's impact in pews only made an ongoing charity funding crisis more obvious, said Sylvia Ronsvalle, in a telephone interview.

Membership and worship attendance numbers plummeted in recent decades in mainline churches and are now declining or plateaued in many evangelical groups. Meanwhile, marriage and birth rates keep falling, while the number of religiously unaffiliated Americans -- the so-called "Nones" -- keeps rising.

The result is a survival mindset in which religious leaders focus on the "bottom line," leading to fewer efforts to support mission work of all kinds.

Olasky flashback: Back to the evangelical clashes over character and two-party politics

Olasky flashback: Back to the evangelical clashes over character and two-party politics

It was totally logical for the Southern Baptist Convention to pass its "Resolution on Moral Character of Public Officials" in 1998.

Consider this "whereas" clause: "Some journalists report that many Americans are willing to excuse or overlook immoral or illegal conduct by unrepentant public officials so long as economic prosperity prevails." This was followed by: "Tolerance of serious wrong by leaders sears the conscience of the culture, spawns unrestrained immorality and lawlessness in the society, and surely results in God's judgment."

Thus, the SBC urged American leaders to "live by the highest standards of morality both in their private actions and in their public duties."

Yes, this resolution passed soon after the infamous claim by President Bill Clinton, a Southern Baptist, that "I did not have sexual relations with that woman."

It was easy to predict who thought Clinton should exit the White House, noted conservative writer Marvin Olasky, who was writing "The American Leadership Tradition: Moral Vision from Washington to Clinton" at that time.

"In poker, you really don't know what cards someone has," said Olasky, reached by telephone. "You can't tell, with certainty, the character of a politician. … In that book, I argued that the state of a man's marriage was a strong tell. If he's faithful in his marriage, he's likely to be faithful to the nation."

Olasky's fellow religious conservatives praised the book. But things changed when he wrote a World magazine essay in 2016 entitled, "Unfit for power," arguing that Donald Trump should step aside as the Republican nominee.

"Clinton had denied having a sexual relationship with Monica Lewinsky, but her stained blue dress bearing Clinton's DNA was proof that he had used his power for adulterous purposes, and then lied about it," wrote Olasky. Then there was the videotape showing "Trump making lewd remarks about groping women's genitals. While many opponents … have criticized Trump's character, the video gave us new information about how Trump views power as a means to gratify himself."

Do American believers really want to sit in pews surrounded by their political clones?

Do American believers really want to sit in pews surrounded by their political clones?

Just over half of churchgoing American Protestants went into the tense midterm elections believing that the people in the pews around them would vote the same way they did.

A Lifeway Research online survey in September found that 50% of those in its national panel agreed with the statement, "I prefer to attend a church where people share my political beliefs, while 55% agreed that "My political views match those of most people at my church." At the same time, 10% were not sure about the first question and 22% the second.

"What we are seeing is a pretty complex situation," said Scott McConnell, executive director at Lifeway Research. While churchgoers are divided on the need for political uniformity in their pews, there are enough believers who take that stance to prove that "this is not one or two people that pastors need to talk to and try to understand. This is a GROUP of people in most of our churches and that's something pastors have to deal with now."

This new survey began with questions used in 2017, he noted, and while the results are similar some new trends are clear. In the earlier survey, 51% of the respondents felt their church was politically homogenous, with only 11% "strongly" agreeing. Now, 21% strongly agree. Also, a rising number of believers assume they can predict the politics of others in their churches. In 2017, 30% were unsure if they shared the views of others in their congregations, but that number dropped to 22% this time.

In a survey result clashing with a popular stereotype, those with evangelical beliefs (44%) were less likely than non-evangelicals (54%) to say they wanted a church in which believers shared their political views. The survey defined "evangelical" in doctrinal terms, stressing beliefs such as, "The Bible is the highest authority for what I believe" and "Only those who trust in Jesus Christ alone as their Savior receive God's free gift of eternal salvation." Other significant results included:

* Methodists (88%) and those attending Restorationist movement congregations, such as the Churches of Christ, were more likely (80%) to seek political unity in the pews. Among other flocks, Baptists (47%), Presbyterians (47%), Lutherans (38%) and nondenominational believers (38%) were less likely to do so.

Apostasy? That word led Bishop FitzSimons Allison out of the Episcopal Church

Apostasy? That word led Bishop FitzSimons Allison out of the Episcopal Church

It has been three decades since the Rt. Rev. C. FitzSimons Allison took his first step away from his life as one of the Episcopal Church's strongest evangelical voices.

That tentative move took place in a small-group discussion during an Episcopal House of Bishops meeting in Kanuga, N.C., during his final year serving as the 12th bishop of the historic Diocese of South Carolina. The topic that day was, "Why are we dysfunctional?"

Allison attacked Episcopal priests and seminary professors who were openly proclaiming their faith in an ancient, erotic, divine spirit "older and greater" than the God of the Bible. There was, Allison said, a clear, ancient word for that -- "apostasy."

Other bishops said they had no problem accepting clergy who were testing the boundaries of ancient Christian doctrines.

After that clash, Allison remained in his pew and declined to share the consecrated bread and wine during a Holy Eucharist with the entire House of Bishops. He didn't publicly discuss this act of broken Communion for several years, but his silent protest was a poignant symbol of early cracks forming in the global Anglican Communion.

Now the 95-year-old bishop has officially resigned his status as an Episcopal bishop, making his departure official. Two weeks ago, he wrote U.S. Presiding Bishop Michael Curry to clarify that he had been received into the Anglican Church in North America -- a body recognized as valid by many Anglican bishops in Africa, Asia and the Global South, but not by the Archbishop of Canterbury or leaders in the U.S. Episcopal Church.

"Some people said that I didn't need to do this, because everyone knows where I stand," said Allison, reached by telephone. "But I felt, the way things have been going, that I still needed to make things official. That's just the way I am."

Allison was ordained as a priest in 1953 and then received a doctorate from Oxford University.

Hillbilly Thomists: Dominicans tracing their roots into Appalachian music and faith

Hillbilly Thomists: Dominicans tracing their roots into Appalachian music and faith

With its sobering lyrics and a droning country-blues riff, "Holy Ghost Power" by the Hillbilly Thomists is a song with zero chance for Christian radio success.

The jilted protagonist has been "living off of grits, whiskey and Moon Pies." His man cave offers no refuge: "A hundred channels of nothing on the TV at 10. It's like Diet Coke and original sin. … Now it's a zombie town, there's a lot of undead. They wander around looking underfed."

But the chorus offers hope: "He makes a rich man poor; He makes a weak man strong. No more going wrong just to get along. I felt the force of the truth when they pierced His side. I saw the war eagle dive and I could not hide."

It wouldn't shock old-school country fans if this was a Johnny Cash song. But it was written by a banjo-playing Dominican from Georgia who has an Oxford theology doctorate and now leads the Pontifical University of Saint Thomas Aquinas. Writing to the National Reso-Phonic Company, Father Thomas Joseph White said he likes to play this classic blues guitar "in my office looking out at the Roman Forum that's 2,700 years-old."

That makes sense in the Hillbilly Thomists, a "musical collective" of Dominicans, most of whom have Bible-belt roots. The band recently staged a concert in the Grand Ole Opry and, over the past decade, has recorded three albums of music that would sound at home at Appalachian fairs, but not in most church halls.

There's a vital tie linking these songs to the life and work of this band of priests and brothers, said Father Simon Teller (who plays fiddle). Whether singing Appalachian hymns or their own original songs, the Hillbilly Thomists -- dressed in the white habits of their order -- keep returning to images of suffering, sorrow, eternity, hope, grace and redemption.

Some Anglican Communion fights are beginning to look like Black vs. White issues

Some Anglican Communion fights are beginning to look like Black vs. White issues

There was nothing unusual about Nigerian Archbishop Henry Ndukuba leading the 2021 dedication rites for Holy Trinity Cathedral Church, which was packed with Nigerian Anglicans and a dozen or so bishops.

But this historic service was held in Houston and the cathedral is not part of the Diocese of Texas or the U.S. Episcopal Church. Some clergy at this Church of Nigeria North American Mission event were recognized as Anglicans by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Some were not.

This puzzle became more complicated recently during Lambeth 2022, which Nigeria boycotted, along with the churches of Uganda and Rwanda. Other Global South bishops, during Lambeth standoffs with Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby over the status of doctrines on marriage and sex, declined to receive Holy Communion with openly gay and lesbian bishops.

"There is a profound asymmetric quality to the Anglican Communion, where the voice of the bulk of its membership is either absent or muted," said the Rev. David Goodhew of St. Barnabas Church in Middlesborough, England. He is the author of a series of articles about African Anglicanism for Covenant, the weblog of The Living Church, an independent Anglican publication founded in 1878.

"If one adds up the number of bishops who didn't share Holy Communion at Lambeth … that is a very large number," he said. "I have been startled by the number of descriptions that said this Lambeth was a success. I don't know how one makes that claim when it would appear the bulk of the Anglican Communion's bishops couldn't come together to receive Communion. That looks like a disaster."

Bottom line: Global South Anglicans are experiencing a "volcano of growth" and remain "at loggerheads" with the shrinking churches of the United Kingdom, North America and other western nations. While most Global South bishops serve growing flocks -- roughly 75% of active worshipers in the 77-million-member Anglican Communion -- many western bishops lead what Goodhew called "micro-dioceses" with under 1,000 active members or "mini-dioceses" with fewer than 5,000.

The Church of Nigeria, meanwhile, claims 17 million members and the Center for Global Christianity at Gordon-Conwell Seminary, near Boston, estimates active participants at 22 million. The other churches skipping Lambeth 2022 were Uganda, with 10 million members, and Rwanda, with 1 million members.

The Church of England remains Anglicanism's power hub. It has 26 million members, but 2019 weekly attendance was about 679,000 -- before the COVID-19 crisis.

Painful Lambeth 2022 reality: Anglican bishops cannot 'walk together' to their altars

Painful Lambeth 2022 reality: Anglican bishops cannot 'walk together' to their altars

While Canterbury is urging Anglicans to keep "walking together," the 2022 Lambeth Conference demonstrated that many of the Anglican Communion's bishops can no longer even receive the Eucharist together.

Doctrinal conflicts over biblical authority and sexuality have raged for decades, with growing churches in the Global South clashing with the shrinking, but wealthy, churches in England, America and other Western regions. During this 12-day conference, which ended Sunday (August 8), conservatives from Africa, Asia and elsewhere declined to receive Holy Communion with openly gay and lesbian bishops. Several provinces -- including the massive Church of Nigeria -- boycotted Lambeth 2022 altogether.

"For the large majority of the Anglican Communion the traditional understanding of marriage is something that is understood, accepted, and without question, not only by bishops but their entire church," said Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby, in a mid-conference address. "To question this teaching is unthinkable, and in many countries would make the church a victim of derision, contempt and even attack."

Bishops in the Anglican minority, he added, "have not arrived lightly at their ideas. … They are not careless about Scripture. They do not reject Christ. But they have come to a different view on sexuality after long prayer, deep study and reflection on understandings of human nature. For them, to question this different teaching is unthinkable."

Throughout Lambeth 2022, the Global South Fellowship of Anglican Churches -- representing about 75% of Anglican church attendance -- pushed to reaffirm a 1998 Lambeth resolution that "homosexual practice" is "incompatible with Scripture," while also urging Anglicans to "oppose homophobia." It stressed centuries of doctrine that "sexuality is intended by God to find its rightful and full expression between a man and a woman in the covenant of marriage, established by God in creation, and affirmed by our Lord Jesus Christ." That earlier resolution passed with 526 votes in favor, 70 opposed and 45 abstentions.

Writing to Lambeth participants, Welby said the "validity" of that resolution "is not in doubt" and that the "whole resolution is still in existence."

However, the archbishop did not allow a vote on the issue and he said he would not, as requested by Anglican primates in the past, discipline the unorthodox. Welby's team consistently tried to focus attention on "restorative justice," Christian unity and global warming -- such as a photo-op with bishops planting a tree at Lambeth Palace.