, , ,

Heated Vatican debates about Pachamama rites lingered and lingered ...

, , ,
Heated Vatican debates about Pachamama rites lingered and lingered ...

The scene during the Vatican's Christmas concert was simple and even childlike, as a young woman from Latin America instructed participants -- including smiling cardinals -- to fold their arms over their chests.

But this was a religious ritual, not a 1990s Macarena flashback.

"You will feel a strong vibration," she said, according to translations of the online video. "That is the heart -- your heart, but also the heart of Mother Earth. And on the other side, where you feel the silence, there is the spirit -- the spirit that allows you to understand the message of the Mother.

"For us indigenous peoples … Mother Earth, Hitchauaya, is everything. It is that Mother who provides food. She is the one who gives us the sacred water. She is the one who gives us medicinal plants and power and reminds us of our origin, the origin of our creation."

The name "Hitchauaya" was new, but battles over "Pachamama" rites had already emerged as one of the strangest Vatican news stories of late 2019. For weeks, progressives and conservatives argued about the relevancy of the first of the Ten Commandments: "You shall have no other gods before me."

Three events in Rome fueled the Earth Mother wars. For some Catholics, they became linked, theologically, to an early 2019 meeting in Abu Dhabi when Pope Francis signed an interfaith document that included this: "The pluralism and the diversity of religions, color, sex, race and language are willed by God in His wisdom."

First, early in the fall Synod of Bishops for the Pan-Amazon region, there were rites that included wooden statues of a pregnant Amazonian woman. Some journalists reported that they represented "Our Lady of the Amazon" or were symbols of new life. Outraged Catholics then stole the statues and tossed them in the Tiber River.

Speaking as "bishop of this diocese," Pope Francis apologized and sought "forgiveness from those who have been offended by this gesture." He said the images were displayed "without idolatrous intentions."

, , , , , , , , , ,

Top religion stories of 2019: #ChurchToo era hits the Southern Baptist Convention

, , , , , , , , , ,
Top religion stories of 2019: #ChurchToo era hits the Southern Baptist Convention

Protest rallies have been common during the #MeToo era, but many of the demonstrators outside the 2019 Southern Baptist Convention were quoting scripture.

As a teaching tool, they offered a large model of a millstone. That was a reference to the Gospel of Matthew, in which Jesus warns that anyone who leads "little ones" astray, "it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened round his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea."

Protestors come and go. Inside the convention center in Birmingham, Ala., Rachael Denhollander warned SBC leaders that it was past time for them to focus on the faces and stories of sexual-abuse survivors in their own pews. 

Abuse survivors are trying to get church leaders to stop hiding abusers and the institutions that shelter them, she said. Far too often, "we do this in the name of unity: 'Don't say anything negative. We need to be unified.' But, brothers and sisters … we are to be unified around the holiness of God. We are to be unified around our confrontation of sin and our confrontation of the darkness. We are to seek light."

Headlines about sexual abuse among Southern Baptists are "not a surprise" to survivors, she added. "What you need to understand is these men and women have been pleading with the church to hear their voices for decades and they have been shut out over and over and over again in the name of Christ. That's what the SBC has done to these survivors. You need to understand the perspective that they have come from. You need to feel the grief and the betrayal and the harm and the hurt they have felt."

Denhollander is best known as the first woman to speak out and file a police report of abuse against USA Gymnastics doctor Larry Nassar. She also has played a crucial role in the #ChurchToo firestorm surrounding the SBC after a Houston Chronicle investigation that revealed hundreds of victims of abuse by clergy and volunteers in America's largest non-Catholic flock. Members of the Religion News Association members selected the SBC scandal as the religion story of 2019.

However, Denhollander was not selected as the RNA's top religion newsmaker. That honor went to Democratic U.S. Reps. Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib, who were at the center of bitter 2019 debates about U.S. aid to Israel.

I voted for Denhollander as the top religion newsmaker. As my No. 1 story, I combined several poll options to focus on the year's hellish uptick in attacks on worshipers in mosques, Jewish facilities and churches, including 250 killed in terrorist attacks on Easter in Sri Lanka.

, , , ,

Hollywood declines to ponder the work of Mister Rogers -- as a pastor

, , , ,
Hollywood declines to ponder the work of Mister Rogers -- as a pastor

During a dozen years of ministry, the Rev. Ted Giese estimates that he has performed 200 funerals and made 1,000 hospital visits to the sick and the dying. He also spends many hours in theaters, working on his movie reviews featured at The Canadian Lutheran website.

Thus, Giese knew exactly what was happening in a crucial scene in "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood." In it, PBS legend Fred Rogers -- played by Tom Hanks -- arrives with a pie for the family of a dying father who has been struggling to heal a bitter rift with his journalist son.

Leaning over the deathbed, Mister Rogers whispers into the man's ear. Moments later, the son asks what he said and Rogers replies: "I asked him to pray for me. Anyone who's going through what he's going through must be very close to God."

Anyone who has served as a pastor, said Giese, will immediately recognize what happened in this encounter.

"That was a pastoral call," he said. "I don't usually bring an apple pie with me when I make this kind of visit, but I know what that scene is all about. I know what that feels like as a pastor. It's like you're part of the family, but you are also there to provide the kind of care that people count on pastors to provide."

This scene may have seemed strange for many moviegoers. The film makes it clear that Rogers is a deeply spiritual, even saintly man. He reads scripture and begins his day on his knees, praying -- by name -- for people he has met while doing his work.

But here's the strange part. This movie never mentions that Mister Rogers was also the Rev. Fred Rogers, an ordained Presbyterian minister. It never notes that Rogers went to seminary seeking the theological depth that he believed he needed to address tough issues -- life, death, disease, divorce, war, poverty, racism, loneliness -- in child-friendly words and images.

For Rogers, "neighbor" for was not a random word that, for 33 years, he inserted into television scripts. He was, show after show, making a personal statement that affirmed a kind of love demonstrated in the biblical parable of the Good Samaritan and its haunting question, "Who is my neighbor?"

, , , ,

Lottie Moon's Christmas legacy: Hope and pain in the suffering church in China

, , , ,
Lottie Moon's Christmas legacy: Hope and pain in the suffering church in China

The news reports shocked Christians worldwide, as Chinese police units demolished the giant Golden Lampstand Church in Shanxi Province early in 2018.

It was just the beginning, as state officials continued to level sanctuaries, destroy crosses, topple steeples and harass clergy. After another megachurch was destroyed last summer in Funan, in the Anhui region, authorities arrested two pastors for "gathering a crowd to disturb Social order."

But there was a different kind of news this fall, as the State Council of the People's Republic of China designated the Wulin Shenghui Church of Penglai, in Shandong province, as a historical site. For millions of Baptists this sanctuary is famous as the church home of the missionary Lottie Moon, who died on Christmas Eve in 1912.

"There's no way to know why China choose to do this," said Keith Harper, a Baptist Studies professor at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, N.C. He edited the book "Send the Light: Lottie Moon's Letters and Other Writings."

"Maybe we can be hopeful. Maybe the Chinese government sees this as some kind of positive gesture. That's what I pray for," he added. "Only time will tell why this happened and what it says about the church in China. … I do know this -- Baptists will care because this is connected to Lottie Moon."

Baptist historian Justice C. Anderson put it best when he wrote: "If they had a Pope, Southern Baptists would surely insist that he beatify Charlotte Digges Moon."

Lottie Moon died at the age of 72 on board a ship in the harbor of Kobe, Japan. She was trying to return to America for treatment of a variety of ailments, some linked to a near-starvation diet during famines in remote northern China.

, , , , ,

Phil Vischer of VeggieTales tries to tell the whole Bible story -- to kids

, , , , ,
Phil Vischer of VeggieTales tries to tell the whole Bible story -- to kids

The ancient Christian leaders who wrote the Nicene Creed never produced a scroll explaining the mysteries of the Holy Trinity to children.

This is not the language found in cartoons.

"I believe in one God, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and of all things, visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all ages; Light of light, true God of true God, begotten not created, of one essence with the Father, through whom all things were made. … And in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Creator of life, who proceedeth from the Father, who with the Father and the Son together is worshipped and glorified. …"

There is more, of course. Phil Vischer of VeggieTales fame knew that he couldn't tell the whole Bible story without discussing the Trinity, somehow. Thus, he put this puzzle at the start of "The Laugh and Learn Bible for Kids," his new 52-chapter Bible storybook targeting ages 6-10.

In whimsical Vischer-speak, that sounds like: "In the beginning, there was God. Just God. Nothing else. No trees, no hummingbirds, no whales, no bats, no kids, no grown-ups, no grandmas or grandpas, no caterpillars, no lakes, no oceans, no horses, no elephants and no frogs. Not even tiny ones. Just God."

Wait for it: "There is one God, but there are three persons in God. God the Father. God the Son. God the Holy Spirit. … I told you it was tricky."

Vischer chuckled, trying to explain this challenge -- sounding a bit like the Bob the Tomato character loved by millions of video-watchers.

"You can't do it justice. There's just too much," he said. "You can't say what needs to be said, but you can tell kids something like: 'This is a mystery that we can't completely understand, but that's OK. This is part of a big story."

Vischer knew that he wanted to produce a book that would be rather strange, in terms of bookstore sales options.

, , , , , ,

Anglicans in Canada are facing a kind of ecclesiastical near-death experience

, , , , , ,
Anglicans in Canada are facing a kind of ecclesiastical near-death experience

When it comes to having priests at altars, the Anglican Church of Canada is in good shape for the next few decades.

But life in the pews has been radically different, creating a crisis that surfaced recently in a blunt report to Canadian bishops.

"In 2018 General Synod was able to collect a complete and mostly reliable set of data … for the first time since 2001," said a report by Rev. Neil Elliot, a priest in the Province of British Columbia and the Yukon. Research from 2017 "shows that the decline observed in earlier data has continued."

 The stunning bottom line: "Projections from our data indicate that there will be no members, attenders or givers in the Anglican Church of Canada by approximately 2040."

Elliot noted that a 2006 report suggested the final Anglicans would exit Canadian pews in 2061. The church's membership had peaked -- as it did for many mainline Christian churches -- in the early 1960s, with 1,358,459 on parish rolls. That number fell to 641,845 in 2001, while Canada's population rose from 18 million to 31 million.

In the 2017 report, Anglican membership fell to 357,123 -- with an average Sunday attendance of 97,421.

Meanwhile, the number of Anglican clergy in Canada rose -- from 2,380 in 1961 to 3,491 in this new report. But other numbers were sobering. For example, the church confirmed 1,997 new members in 2017, while there were 9,074 burials or funeral rites.

"There is no sign of any stabilization in our numbers; if anything the decline is increasing. Some had hoped that our decline had bottomed out, or that programs had been effective in reversing the trends. This is now demonstrably not the case," noted Elliot.

"International comparisons suggest that the decline in the Anglican Church of Canada is faster than in any other Anglican church," although 2018 numbers from the larger Episcopal Church in the United States showed "an even greater rate of decline in attendance than ours."

, , , , , , , , ,

How do some young Americans remain believers while living in 'digital Babylon'?

, , , , , , , , ,
How do some young Americans remain believers while living in 'digital Babylon'?

Soon after the Internet boom in the 1990s, the Christian consulting firm WisdomWorks obtained software that could run automated chat groups -- allowing anonymous teens to ask candid questions.

Mark Matlock and his team called the project "Wise Intelligent Guide (WIG)."

Tech-savvy young people were careful, often repeating easy questions over and over to determine if the "bot" was truly autonomous, as opposed to being operated by hidden adults. A typical user would then probe with relatively safe questions -- like "Does God exist?"

Finally, there would be the "actual question the teen wanted to ask, usually about sex, depression, suicide, or abuse," noted Matlock and Barna Group President David Kinnaman, in their new book "Faith for Exiles." Typical questions: "How do I know if I am gay? What does God think about masturbation? What happens to people who commit suicide? I had sex with my boyfriend; what should I do?"

That was two decades ago. Today, most teens would use their omnipresent smartphones and take these personal questions straight to Google -- a secular oracle offering guidance on topics that religious leaders often avoid.

"The church has bubble-wrapped itself in an attempt to avoid thinking about the truly disruptive forms of technology that are everywhere in our world," said Kinnaman, reached by telephone. "Most church leaders think they can just use technology as a way of reaching people. … They aren't looking at the real impact of all this on their people. It's easier just to look the other way."

Meanwhile, practical decisions on tough lifestyle and religious questions often have long-term consequences.

Religious leaders have been forced -- after waves of Pew Research Center polling -- to acknowledge the surge in Millennial Americans (born 1981-1996) who now identify as atheists, agnostics or "nothing in particular" when asked about religion. In a 2019 update, Pew noted that 40% of Millennials are "nones."

The goal of the "Faith for Exiles" study was to find patterns among young Americans (18 to 29 years of age) who were raised as Christians.

, , , ,

Searching for saints on Google -- for a variety of personal and practical reasons

, , , ,
Searching for saints on Google -- for a variety of personal and practical reasons

Day after day, Catholics return from sobering hospital visits and type these terms into online search programs -- "cancer" and "patron saint."

This leads them to St. Peregrine Laziosi, a 13th century Italian monk who spent his life serving the sick and destitute. Biographers note that, at age 60, he was mysteriously cured of a gangrenous growth on his right leg.

With additional computer-mouse clicks, cancer patients find prayers like this: "St. Peregrine, whom Holy Mother Church has declared patron of those suffering from cancer, I confidently turn to you for help in my present sickness. I beg your kind intercession. Ask God to relieve me of this sickness, if it be his Holy Will."

Members of ancient Christian churches grow up knowing about their own patron saints, as well as saints linked to their parishes. It's natural for Catholics to identify with saints -- like St. Patrick in Ireland -- linked to their homelands.

But there are times in life when it's natural for believers to seek "companion" saints to enter their prayer lives, said Father James Martin, author of "My Life with the Saints," a commentary on the role of saints first published in 2006.

"Even if you have no pre-existing ties to St. Peregrine, you are going to pray to him for his intercessions when you learn that you have cancer," said Martin. "That's just one of the many ways we get connected to saints at different times in our lives. Sometimes these connections are logical and sometimes they are mysterious. … 

"I tell people that when they find themselves being drawn to a particular saint, it's probably because that saint is already praying for them. In the end, this is all about the Holy Spirit and God's providence."

 It's hard to say why some saints are more popular or famous than others. The Catholic website Aleteia ("truth" or "disclosure" in Greek) recently published a feature entitled, "The top 12 saints according to Google searches."

The top online saint was St. Vincent de Paul of France, which could indicate that many people were looking for St. Vincent de Paul thrift stores.

, , ,

Law professor Phillip E. Johnson -- A rare Christian apologist from Cal Berkeley

, , ,
Law professor Phillip E. Johnson -- A rare Christian apologist from Cal Berkeley

Phillip E. Johnson was doing what a University of California at Berkeley law professor was supposed to do during a mid-career sabbatical.

The former clerk for U.S. Supreme Court Chief Justice Earl Warren had punched the academic clock -- hard -- and earned tenure. Now it was time to pause and look ahead after a divorce and his disappointing failure to land a judicial appointment. He had also converted to Christianity.

Visiting a London bookstore, he purchased "The Blind Watchmaker" by atheist Richard Dawkins of Oxford. Blitzing through that book led straight to another, Michael Denton's "Evolution: A Theory in Crisis." Johnson was no scientist, but he was fascinated by the rhetoric being used to crush debates about Darwinism.

"As a student of legal argument, I knew that how you state questions almost always determines the answers that you get," Johnson told me, during a 2002 conference at Palm Beach Atlantic University (where I was teaching at that time). "I knew that if I jumped into this fight it would take over my life. I would have people firing at me from all sides. It would cause incredible complications for me at Berkeley. 

"It would change everything. That was irresistible, of course."

Johnson found these kinds of debates irresistible, right up until his death on Nov. 2 at age 79, after years of struggles caused by two strokes.

Through it all, his goal was to "united the divided and divide the united, especially when the united were smug elites who felt no need to defend what they claimed to believe. … Christian elites of that kind bothered him just as much, if not more, than all the others," said philosopher John Mark Reynolds, president of The Saint Constantine School in Houston.

"We once joked that if all of the causes we were backing ended up winning, he would probably change sides -- since the odds were good we would become insufferable, like everybody else."

As a graduate of Harvard University and the University of Chicago Law School, Johnson had zero insecurity about his skills in intellectual combat. He was an academic samurai brave enough to air his heretical ideas about Darwin in a faculty-lounge forum a year after his London sabbatical. His Berkeley colleagues were not amused.