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The fellowship of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, shaped by reality in World War I

The fellowship of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, shaped by reality in World War I

A British soldier began writing "The Fall of Gondolin" while in a hospital bed, stricken by "trench disease" from the lethal front lines of World War I.

A German soldier later bemoaned the "lice, rats, barbed wire, fleas, shells, bombs, underground caves, corpses, blood, liquor, mice, cats, artillery, filth, bullets, mortars, fire, steel." Add poison gas to that ordeal.

Young J.R.R. Tolkien wrote: "The fume of the burning, and the steam of the fair fountains of Gondolin withering on the flame of the dragons of the north, fell upon the vale of Tumladen in mournful mists." The battlefields were "cold and terrible."

This was a vision of war from a man who had been there, said Joseph Loconte, author of "A Hobbit, a Wardrobe and a Great War." The book explores the many ways that World War I shaped Tolkien and C.S. Lewis.

"Tolkien wasn't writing escapist fantasy," said Loconte, reached by telephone. "If this is about escape, it's the writings of a prisoner who has escaped the world of cells, bars and keys. This kind of escapism … helps us realize that our prisons have windows and we can use them to see better things."

Tolkien later wrote that he began creating his Middle Earth mythology -- the foundation for the future "The Lord of the Rings" -- while "in grimy canteens, at lectures in cold fogs, in huts full of blasphemy and smut, or by candlelight in bell-tents, even some down in dugouts under shell fire."

Yes, the man who survived days huddled in shell craters and trenches in France would later write, in a blank page in an Oxford student's exam book, these famous words: "In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit."

Tolkien and Lewis remain stunningly popular -- in print and on digital screens.

When did Stephen Colbert's satire, with it's Catholic grace, veer into ridicule and rage?

When did Stephen Colbert's satire, with it's Catholic grace, veer into ridicule and rage?

Soon after Stephen Colbert landed "The Late Show" he welcomed tycoon Donald Trump as a guest and did something shocking — he apologized.

"I said a few things about you over the years that, that are, you know, in polite company, perhaps, are unforgivable," Colbert said, in 2015.

"Accepted," said Trump, smiling.

That encounter was light years from what happened after Trump celebrated the recent CBS decision to cancel "The Late Show."

On social media, the president said Colbert's "talent was even less than his ratings."

Colbert fired back in his monologue: "Would an untalented man be able to compose the following satirical witticism? Go f*** yourself."

While Colbert retains a faithful congregation, some fans who loved his sly blend of satire and progressive Catholicism mourn his decision to preach to only half of America, said media scholar Terry Lindvall, author of "God Mocks: A History of Religious Satire from the Hebrew Prophets to Stephen Colbert," published in 2015.

"He made you laugh and think," said Lindvall, reached by telephone. "When he turned on the rage, he turned mean. He turned bitter. He acted like he was a prophet, not a jester." Sadly, Lindvall added, the Trump era turned Colbert into "a liberal fundamentalist. … He drank the Kool-Aid."

The goal, in "God Mocks," was to offer a "bumpy tour through Rome, Jerusalem and Lilliput," arriving at Comedy Central. Lindvall praised Colbert's early work on "The Colbert Report," in which he pretended to be a blow-hard conservative pundit, creating an upside-down persona who could mock secular progressives and atheists, as well as thinkers on the right. Conservative guests, especially Catholics, were often treated with respect.

That was satire, wrote Lindvall, recognizing "a moral discrepancy between what is proclaimed and what is practiced. … The biblical satirist shares in the blame and shame of his defendants.

The golf world is still dissecting Scottie Scheffler's heart, mind and soul

The golf world is still dissecting Scottie Scheffler's heart, mind and soul

When Scottie Scheffler celebrated his recent victory at the British Open, it was hard to tell who drew the loudest cheers -- the world's No. 1 golfer or his toddler son.

Nike captured the family vibe with a viral advertisement showing Scheffler and Bennett, with the caption, "You've already won," before adding, "But another major never hurt."

After the win, Scheffler added fire to the week's hot story, which was his candid remarks about why he isn't obsessed with winning trophies week after week.

"My faith and my family is what's most important to me," he told reporters. "Those come first for me. … Golf is third in that order."

The key words were "in that order," noted Daniel Darling, director of the Land Center for Cultural Engagement at Southwestern Baptist Seminary. "Scottie Scheffler doesn't see golf as a god. He's thankful that God has given him the abilities that he has." However, he also "knows the challenge in life is to keep things in the right order, to focus on what really matters."

The firestorm began earlier that week, when the 29-year-old superstar drew nervous laughter by stressing: "I'm not here to inspire somebody else to be the best player in the world, because what's the point? … This is not a fulfilling life. It's fulfilling from a sense of accomplishment, but it's not fulfilling from a sense of the deepest places of your heart.

"There's a lot of people that make it to what they thought was going to fulfill them in life. And then you get there, then all of a sudden you get to No. 1 in the world, and they're like, what's the point? … That's something that I wrestle with on a daily basis."

Scheffler's remarks revealed a "human side we too often don't get to see," noted Shane Ryan, writing for Golf Digest. "For those with ears to hear it, there was a deep message at play, and an almost unbearably honest one." Perhaps, Ryan added, if "someone like Scheffler, who has been to the mountaintop of his world, finds spiritual emptiness on that summit, what hope do the rest of us have?"

Into "On Religion" year 37: There's more to religion news than politics

Into "On Religion" year 37: There's more to religion news than politics

To no one's surprise, 83% of white evangelical voters backed President Donald Trump in 2024, consistent with voting patterns in recent decades.

The news, this time, was that Cooperative Election Study numbers indicated that Trump's support rose among non-white evangelicals and Catholics. He even won 55% of the votes from mainline Protestants.

The voter base for Vice President Kamala Harris could be described as "Black Protestants + atheists," wrote political scientist Ryan Burge of Eastern Illinois University, in one of his Graphs about Religion X posts.

But in another chart, Burge shared 2022 Public Religion Research Institute data describing the attitudes of people in pews. Survey participants reacted to this statement: "I wish my church talked more about political division in this country."

Among evangelicals, 86% "completely" or "mostly" disagreed, compared to 82% of non-evangelicals and 74% of Catholics.

"Any pastor who chooses to speak up about political division in the United States is going to anger a whole lot of their flock. You just don't see a lot of church going folks who are keen on their pastor talking about … politics, just the opposite," noted Burge, author of "The American Religious Landscape: Facts, Trends, and the Future."

Meanwhile, it seems that "people who aren't religious or don't attend church on a regular basis have a misperception about what happens on a Sunday morning," he added, in his Substack newsletter. Truth is, the vast majority of churchgoers "just want to avoid politics entirely from the pulpit."

In my academic and news experience, that isn't what Americans learn from mainstream news. This week marks the start of my 37th year writing this "On Religion" column and I also spent 20 years leading the GetReligion.org project. That website's archive remains online for those studying religion and the press.

The bottom line: Religion events and trends draw intense news coverage when they are directly or indirectly linked to politics. This is especially true during tense elections.

The legacy of historian Martin Marty is much larger than shelves of books in libraries

The legacy of historian Martin Marty is much larger than shelves of books in libraries

For decades, religion-beat journalists in the mainstream press knew how to produce stories that would land on the front page.

The formula was stated in jest, but there was truth in it. I heard this version in 1982: "Three local anecdotes, some national poll numbers and a quote from Martin Marty."

At the peak of his career, Time magazine said Marty was "generally acknowledged to be the most influential living interpreter of religion in the U.S.'' The church historian wrote more than 60 books and influenced hundreds more. For 50 years he was an editor and columnist at The Christian Century and, for 41 years, wrote his own biweekly Context newsletter, followed by “Sightings” essays online.

“It is clear that we religion journalists needed Martin Marty and he needed us," said Kenneth Woodward, who spent decades at Newsweek. "We read his Context, his Sightings, his MEMO column, his books, his annual New Theology paperback, his books and we called him for quotes. In today's terms, he influenced the influencers."

Marty died on February 25 at the age of 97, a quarter of a century after retiring from teaching at the University of Chicago Divinity School. The research center he launched in 1979 was then rebranded as the Martin Marty Center for the Public Understanding of Religion. He received numerous other awards, including more than 80 honorary degrees, the 1992 National Book Award and the 1997 National Medal for the Humanities.

It mattered that, before becoming a superstar scholar, he spent a decade caring for Lutherans in pews, said Richard Ostling, known for his work at Time and the Associated Press. One reason Marty could offer analysis that connected with readers was that he was "a successful pastor and could talk to God's people without talking down to them."

Academic leaders would note that Marty's legacy includes legions of professors and scholars. He advised 115 doctoral dissertations and helped countless other graduate students.

No, seriously: Jeff Foxworthy is convinced that God has a sense of humor

No, seriously: Jeff Foxworthy is convinced that God has a sense of humor

As a rule, Jeff Foxworthy never refuses autograph requests, but the redneck comedy legend hit a wall during a funeral-home visitation for someone in his extended family.

"When you go to a funeral home, a lot of times there's more than one visitation going on," said Foxworthy, reached by telephone. "Across the hall, there was another one … and it was a rowdy bunch. In the break area they had coolers with cans of regular Budweiser. …

"At some point in the evening, somebody over there recognized me and they started coming into our side and wanting to get a picture made. You know, 'Can I get my picture with you?' … And one turned into three and that turned into seven or eight."

Then a woman arrived with a felt-tip marker and made a familiar request: "Can I ask you a favor?' … Can you sign my brother's tie?'"

Seeking an escape door back to his family, Foxworthy said: "'Where's your brother?' And she said, 'He's in here, in the casket.' And that's the only time I have ever denied somebody an autograph. … But asking me to climb up on the casket and autograph the guy's tie?"

The truth in this sobering parable is that humor often surfaces during life's big transitions, even when they involve sacred beliefs and traditions. That's one reason Foxworthy has never written "You Might Be A Redneck Churchgoer If" jokes.

Yes, audiences would yowl with laughter, especially in zip codes defined by faith, family, food and fishing. But for some people, religion jokes would cut too close to the bone, said Foxworthy.

After four decades in comedy, he said that he reminds himself, that "everybody I'm going to look at tonight is going through some kind of a struggle. It might be financial, it might be physical, it may be emotional. … I'm like, 'Just be kind to people.' You know? Have grace. You don't know their story. And I don't think humor makes people's struggles go away. But I do think … if you're able to laugh and set that burden down for a little bit, it almost, like, recharges you to where you can pick it back up and go deal with it."

Life lessons (along with some parables) in the classic comedy 'A Christmas Story'

Life lessons (along with some parables) in the classic comedy 'A Christmas Story'

Humorist Jean Shepherd was a teen-ager when his father came home from work and began packing a suitcase.

"What are ya doin', Dad?", asked Shepherd.

Describing the scene to communication scholar Quentin Schultze, he said that his father replied: "I'm leaving. You'll understand when you get older."

Shepherd's father moved away and married a "trophy wife."

This wasn't the kind of dark, life-changing event that tends to inspire a crucial symbol and theme in a beloved Christmas movie, noted Schultze. But Shepherd wove parts of his own life story into his storytelling, including work that became "A Christmas Story."

Americans who watch this 1983 family comedy -- about 40 million click into the 24-hour marathon on TBS and TNT, starting on Christmas Eve -- know that it centers on a boy named Ralphie who is obsessed with his parents giving him a 200-shot Red Ryder air rifle BB gun.

But another iconic image is the leg-shaped lamp, wearing a fishnet stocking worthy of a bordello, that Ralphie's "Old Man" received as his "major award" after winning a quiz contest. What was that all about?

Schultze learned the answer when, for three years in the 1980s, he taught a college-level storytelling class with Shepherd, while saving notebooks full of insights from their time together.

"As Shepherd told me, the leg lamp became the Old Man's trophy wife, which he had to show off to the world. He was unable to carry on his 'affair' with discretion," wrote Schultze, in "You'll Shoot Your Eye Out! Life Lessons from the movie 'A Christmas Story.'" He is now professor emeritus at Calvin University in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

The quest for the Red Ryder rifle has a heartwarming final act, with a boy bonding with his volatile "Old Man," the father's only name in the script. And the leg lamp story also has a happy ending, even though it's clear that Ralphie's mother broke it on purpose.

The mysteries of Our Lady of Guadalupe: It's a story for researchers and childen

The mysteries of Our Lady of Guadalupe: It's a story for researchers and childen

The cloak worn by St. Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin was made from rough cactus materials from central Mexico and it should have deteriorated after 15-30 years.

But this "tilma" remains intact and its mysterious image of the Virgin Mary has not faded since December 1531, when the indigenous peasant reported a series of Marian encounters. The framed cloak is displayed behind the high altar of the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe at the foot of Tepeyac Hill in Mexico City.

Scientists have studied the cloak for centuries. For starters, it's hard to describe the survival of this cactus-fiber cloak without using the word "miracle."

"We are dealing with mysterious events, but that doesn't mean they aren't real," said Vivian Dudro, a senior editor at Ignatius Press who helped produce a new edition of "The Lady of Guadalupe," a classic children's book by the late artist Tomie dePaola.

"All I know is that historians and scientists keep digging into the details of all this. Even with what we call 'legends,' you soon realize that there are real people involved in stories of this kind," she said, in a telephone interview. "The story of Our Lady of Guadalupe is best described as 'sacred history,' and pieces of this history continue to emerge to this day."

Year after year, Juan Diego's tilma is viewed by an estimated 20 million pilgrims, with more than 10 million visiting the basilica close to December 12 -- the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the patron saint of Mexico and the Americas. Around the world, throngs march in parades and sacred processions behind copies of this iconic Marian image.

While Our Lady of Guadalupe has played a central role in Mexico's tempestuous history, Pope Francis has stressed that this image should not be tethered to culture and politics. "The message of Guadalupe does not tolerate any ideology of any kind," he said, during last year's Vatican rites for the feast day. Instead, believers should focus on Mary's question to Juan Diego: "Am I not here, I, who am your mother?"

This is a key message, said Dudro, that children need to hear when parents and teachers introduce them to the story of Juan Diego, the Castilian roses he plucked -- following Mary's instructions -- from the frozen soil and, finally, the image of her that appeared on his cloak when the roses spilled out before the Franciscan bishop of Mexico.

An assassin's bullet changed Ronald Reagan's life, but what about Donald Trump?

An assassin's bullet changed Ronald Reagan's life, but what about Donald Trump?

Not only did Pope Leo XIII collapse to the floor after celebrating Mass, but doctors couldn't find a pulse.

A priest who witnessed this 1886 drama testified: "His expression was one of horror and awe; the color and look on his face changing rapidly." When the pope regained consciousness, he described a hellish vision of Satan's plans to conquer the church.

In response, Pope Leo XIII wrote this prayer: "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the Devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, cast into hell Satan, and all evil spirits, who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen."

For decades, Catholics recited this prayer after Mass, a practice continued by some Catholics and opposed by others. Thus, former President Donald Trump triggered debates by posting this prayer on social-media platforms on Sunday, September 29, the Catholic feast day of the archangels.

"Unless you're totally cynical and you think Trump was trying to appeal to the Catholic crowd before an election, you'd have to assume this had something to do with him coming millimeters from being killed by that bullet," said historian Paul Kengor of Grove City College, about 25 miles from Butler, Pennsylvania, the site of the July 13 assassination attempt.

"It's logical to ask how coming that close to death affects a man," stressed Kengor, whose book "God and Ronald Reagan" discussed the impact of Reagan's near death after a 1981 shooting. "Donald Trump has been a major figure in American life for years, and the public knows a lot about him. Will we see changes in his personality and his behavior, maybe even his faith?"

Trump has clearly, and repeatedly, said that he believes God spared his life.