worship

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Heard any dull sermons, lately? Preachers need to know that many will say, 'Yes'

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Heard any dull sermons, lately? Preachers need to know that many will say, 'Yes'

Kids do say the darndest things, and with decades of pulpit experience, the Rev. Joe McKeever has learned that these revelatory remarks often happen just after church.

In one case, a parent shared a question from a perplexed child who struggled with a complex McKeever sermon. Thus, the 7-year-old asked: "Why does Pastor Joe think we need this information?"

That's blunt. But not as blunt as what happened to a friend, as McKeever recounted in a recent essay: "Boring sermons: We all have them from time to time."

This pastor said a family from his church attended a Friday football game, and during halftime, their preschooler asked why students chanted "BORING!" at the visiting marching band. "Her mother explained that sometimes students will do that when they feel the other band is doing poor work," wrote McKeever. The mother added: "It tells them they stink."

The child remembered this and shouted "BORING!" during the next Sunday sermon.

Pastors need honest feedback from time to time, stressed the 83-year-old McKeever, who -- in addition to decades in various kinds of Southern Baptist ministry -- was for 20 years an active member of the National Cartoonists Society.

"One of the problems with being a pastor is that we rarely hear anyone else preach," he said, reached by telephone. "We do what we do in the pulpit, over and over, and it's easy to lose any sense of standards.

"Many preachers lose the ability to listen to themselves. … They end up telling people things that they don't need, things that they didn't want, that they don't understand and, worst of all, that they don't find inspiring."

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Retired United Methodist bishop offers an in-depth meditation on death -- his own

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Retired United Methodist bishop offers an in-depth meditation on death -- his own

There was nothing unusual, in the early 1970s, about a student hearing one of his professors preach during chapel.

But one sermon — "How Would You Like to Die?" — impressed the seminarian who would later become United Methodist Bishop Timothy Whitaker of Florida. Theologian Claude H. Thompson had terminal cancer and, a few months later, his funeral was held in the same chapel at the Candler School of Theology in Atlanta.

"What hit me was that he calmly preached on that subject -- even while facing his own death," said Whitaker, reached by telephone. "It hit me that that, if death is one of the great mysteries of life, then that needs to be something that the church openly discusses. …

"Yes, we live in a culture that is reluctant to talk about death. But I decided that it's important for us to hear from our elders who are facing this issue, head on."

Thus, soon after doctors informed him that his own cancer is terminal, Whitaker wrote a lengthy online meditation, "Learning to Die." The 74-year-old bishop is retired and receiving hospice care, while living in Keller, a small town near the Virginia coast.

"Being a pastor, I considered it a privilege and also an education to linger beside many deathbeds. I have tried to never forget that, unless I die abruptly in an accident or with a heart attack or stroke, sooner or later the subject of death will feel very personal to me," he wrote. Now, "in the time that remains for me I have one more thing to learn in life, which is to die. … I had always hoped that I would be aware of the imminence of my death so that I could face it consciously, and I am grateful that I have the knowledge that I am going to die soon."

Certainly, Whitaker noted, the Orthodox theologian Father Thomas Hopko was correct when he quipped, while facing a terminal disease: "This dying is very interesting."

Dying is also complicated -- raising myriad theological questions about eternity, salvation and the mysteries of the life to come, he noted. The Bible, from cover to cover, is packed with relevant stories, passages and images. The same is true of the writings of early church leaders who preached eternal hope, even when suffering persecution and martyrdom. Over and over, the saints proclaimed their belief in the resurrection of Jesus.

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American Muslims learning that absolute-truth claims clash with Sexual Revolution

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American Muslims learning that absolute-truth claims clash with Sexual Revolution

In terms of Islamic doctrine, alcohol is "haram," or forbidden, and the Quran is blunt: "O ye who believe! Strong drink and games of chance and idols and divining arrows are only an infamy of Satan's handiwork."

But it isn't hard to find Muslims that never boarded that bandwagon.

"There are Muslims who drink and get drunk. That's a fact, but that doesn't mean they can change what Islam teaches," said Yasir Qadhi, dean of the Islamic Seminary of America, near Dallas. "That's a sin. We all sin. But we cannot change our faith to fit the new norms in society."

Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be controversial for Islamic leaders to affirm that their faith teaches absolute, unchanging truths about moral issues -- including subjects linked to sexuality, marriage and family life.

But Muslims in America never expected to be called "ignorant and intolerant" because they want public-school leaders to allow children to opt out of academic work that clashes with their faith. But that's what is happening in Montgomery County, Maryland, and a few other parts of the U.S. and Canada, where Muslim parents have been accused of cooperating with the cultural right, said Qadhi.

"That is so painful. … Truth is, we are not aligning with the political left or right," he added. "You cannot put Islam into a two-party world, where you have to choose the Democrats or the Republicans and that is that."

On the legal front, a Maryland district court recently ruled that parents do not have "a fundamental right" to avoid school activities that challenge their faith. The legal team for a coalition of Muslims, Jews, Orthodox Christians, evangelicals and others quickly asked the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals to reconsider the Mahmoud v. McKnight decision.

At the same time, Muslim leaders are debating a May 23 statement -- "Navigating Differences: Clarifying Sexual and Gender Ethics in Islam" -- signed by more than 200 Muslim leaders and scholars, representing a variety of Islamic traditions. Qadhi was one of the first 60 to sign the document.

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Big questions religious leaders need to be asking about autism statistics and ministry

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Big questions religious leaders need to be asking about autism statistics and ministry

Many modern churches may be weak when it comes to architecture and sacred art, but they almost always have concert-level lighting, sound and multi-media technology.

But in a few sanctuaries linked to ancient traditions, worship leaders are trying something different. In some Eucharistic services, they are offering autistic worshippers an atmosphere that is more calm and less intense.

"If you look at many church services from the point of view of highly sensitive people -- especially autistic children -- there is too much noise, too many lights," said Father Matthew Schneider, known to online Catholics as @AutisticPriest. "We can turn down the lights. We can turn down the volume. We can do a few things to accept these families and let them feel more comfortable."

For neurodivergent people, it actually helps that ancient rites are built on repeated gestures, prayers and music that become familiar. Schneider experienced this phenomenon in seminary, but grasped its importance when he was diagnosed as autistic several years after his ordination.

"If you do something over and over, then I know what's coming. I have time to take that in. I know what is happening and why," said Schneider, who currently teaches theology at Belmont Abbey College near Charlotte, North Carolina.

"If you throw me a curve ball, it may take me some time to get over the shock. That's just a reality for autistic people. ... If I'm familiar with a service -- stand up, kneel down, look right, look left -- that can become comfortable."

Religious leaders will have to face these issues after seeing waves of stunning statistics from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and other groups studying neurodiversity trends. For example, in 2000, 1 in 150 children were somewhere on the autism spectrum. That number was 1 in 36, in recent CDC data. And 26.7% of autistic children now display "profound" symptoms.

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Life in troubled times: Conservative Catholic archbishop faces conservative Lutherans

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Life in troubled times: Conservative Catholic archbishop faces conservative Lutherans

Serious fasting is hard, even for a Catholic archbishop, especially when the aroma of spaghetti sauce is wafting through a church during an Italian community dinner.

San Francisco Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone learned that lesson during California's bitter battles over the meaning of "marriage," "family" and other common terms that had become controversial. But he had promised to join in 100 days of prayer, and 40 days of fasting, as part of an ecumenical coalition's efforts to defend centuries of teachings on sexuality.

It was evangelical Protestants who proposed the fast, even though traditional Catholics have practiced that discipline for centuries.

"They meant serious fasting — like not eating, or eating very little, just one meal a day. So, not just giving up dessert, you know?", said Cordileone, during this summer's "Issues, Etc." conference at Concordia University in Chicago, sponsored by Lutheran Public Radio. (This independent online network also produces my GetReligion.org podcast.)

The inside joke about Catholics "giving up dessert" hit home, even though he was speaking to Missouri Synod Lutherans.

There was a time when Lutherans would not have invited a Catholic archbishop to this kind of event, said Cordileone. There was a time when it was rare for Catholics to cooperate with evangelicals and other believers seeking common ground on moral and social issues.

"To tell you the truth, I actually long for the good old days when we used to have the luxury to fight with each other over doctrinal issues," said Cordileone, drawing laughter. "But right now, the ship is going down. … The crew cannot afford to stand on the bridge and discuss the best kind of navigation equipment to use — when the ship is going down."

The "ship," he stressed, is not the church — "It's our civilization."

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2023: A 'Barbie' Odyssey does raise (wink, wink) moral, cultural and theological issues

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2023: A 'Barbie' Odyssey does raise (wink, wink) moral, cultural and theological issues

Hollywood worships big movie franchises, so fans can expect "Barbie" sequels.

One plot proposal quickly emerged from an unlikely source -- Sister Mary Joseph Calore of the Society Devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in St. Cresson, Pennsylvania.

"'Barbie becomes a nun' would be a great sequel," she wrote, on the X platform. Her post contained this pitch to Warner Bros. executives: "Dissatisfied by endless parties and user friends, an eating disorder, spending addictions with clothes and shoes, and cohabitating with the shallow & unemployed playboy Ken, Barbie's sportscar has been parked more and more at an adoration chapel. She is seriously giving thought to draining the pool, putting her condo on the market, cutting her hair and donning the religious habit."

That would be a twist, after a cinematic manifesto arguing that life as a real woman is painful and complicated, but it's better than being an iconic plastic doll.

"This movie should have been silly and fun, but it ended up being preachy and earnest," said Barbara Nicolosi Harrington, a former Catholic nun who became a screenwriter and Hollywood script doctor. "I mean, how far can you go with a story about Barbie?"

Writer-director Greta Gerwig's previous work has been impressive, stressed Harrington, who teaches at Regent University in Virginia Beach, Virginia. With "Little Women," Gerwig showed the ability to offer a fresh take on a familiar story. Now, "Barbie" will draw intense scrutiny, since she will direct at least one movie in the upcoming Netflix take on "The Chronicles of Narnia" novels by the Christian apologist C.S. Lewis.

"Barbie" contains ambitious attempts to mix serious, even if tongue in cheek, social commentary with pop-culture mythology -- such as a shot-for-shot homage to Stanley Kubrick's legendary dawn-of-consciousness scene in "2001: A Space Odyssey."

The big "Barbie" question, noted Other Feminisms writer Leah Libresco Sargeant, is stated in a soundtrack ballad -- "What Was I Made For?"

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The pew gap remains: Journalists should start watching Latino and Black churches

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The pew gap remains: Journalists should start watching Latino and Black churches

As an emerging American voice, the Rev. Jerry Falwell visited South Carolina in 1980 to promote his new Moral Majority network, while urging evangelicals to back Ronald Reagan, instead of President Jimmy Carter, a Southern Baptist.

Then Furman University professor John C. Green was intrigued by mixed reactions on three Baptist campuses in Greenville -- his own "moderate" Baptist school, a mainstream Southern Baptist college and the proudly fundamentalist Bob Jones University. For example, Bob Jones, Jr., called Falwell the "most dangerous man in America today," because of his efforts to unite religious groups in political activism.

This potent blend of politics and religion was an obvious topic for political-science research. Colleagues agreed, but one said they needed to act fast, "since these kinds of trends burn out quick," Green recalled, laughing. "Here we are in 2023 and arguments about religion and politics are hotter than ever."

From the start, experts tried to show a clash between religion and secularism, noted Green, author of "The Faith Factor: How Religion Influences American Elections."

The reality is more complex than a "God gap." By the late 1980s, researchers learned that -- while most Americans remain believers -- it's crucial to note how often voters attend worship services. The more fervently Americans support religious congregations with their time and money, the more likely they are to back cultural conservatives.

This "religiosity gap" remains relevant. A new Pew Research Center analysis noted that, in 2022 midterms: "The gap in voting preferences by religious attendance was as wide as it's been in any of the last several elections: 56% of those who said they attend religious services a few times a year or less reported voting for Democratic candidates in the 2022 midterms. … But GOP candidates were the favorite among those who attend services monthly or more by more than two-to-one (67%, vs. 31% who voted for Democratic candidates)."

Meanwhile, Protestants supported the "GOP by nearly two-to-one." White evangelical support for Republicans hit 86%, while white Catholics "favored Republican candidates by 25 points, whereas Hispanic Catholics favored Democratic candidates by an even greater margin (34 points)." Jewish voters preferred Democrats -- 68% to 32%. Atheists, agnostics or "nothing in particular" voters remained loyal to the Democrats, with 72% supporting that party, and 27% backing Republicans.

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Sparkle on: 'I believe in the non-binary God whose pronouns are plural. I believe in Jesus Christ, their child ...'

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Sparkle on: 'I believe in the non-binary God whose pronouns are plural. I believe in Jesus Christ, their child ...'

While wrestling with heresies in the Roman world, 2nd-century Christians began combining crucial doctrines into creeds to help converts prepare for baptism.

Soon, the Apostles' Creed emerged as a cornerstone of Western Christianity, with short, ringing phrases that millions recite to this day.

This is not the stuff of viral videos: "I believe in God, the Father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried; he descended into hell; on the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty; from there he will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting."

However, the Edina Community Lutheran Church in Minneapolis created a stir recently by posting part of a Pride Month service that featured a radically modernized take on the faith passed down through the ages — the Sparkle Creed.

"I believe in the non-binary God whose pronouns are plural. I believe in Jesus Christ, their child, who wore a fabulous tunic and had two dads and saw everyone as a sibling-child of God. I believe in the rainbow Spirit, who shatters our image of one white light and refracts it into a rainbow of gorgeous diversity," affirmed the congregation, which -- in the video -- appears to consist primarily of aging Baby Boomers.

"I believe in the church of everyday saints as numerous, creative and resilient as patches on the AIDS quilt, whose feet are grounded in mud and whose eyes gaze at the stars in wonder. I believe in the call to each of us that love is love is love, so beloved, let us love. I believe, glorious God. Help my unbelief."

Online commentary noted that this text was not created by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, a mainline Protestant flock that now ordains LGBTQ pastors living in committed relationships.

The Sparkle Creed was circulated in 2021 by the Rev. Rachel Small-Stokes of Immanuel United Church of Christ in Louisville, Kentucky. A "Shower of Stoles" website biography notes that she was raised United Methodist, served as a missionary in that denomination and trained for the ministry. However, she switched to the United Church of Christ -- which began ordaining gay ministers in 1972 -- before being ordained in 2009 and marrying her lesbian partner in 2012.

On Facebook, she explained that this creed began with a computer glitch.

"I was voice-to-texting 'the Apostle's creed' to a colleague, and it translated as "The Sparkle Creed," wrote Small-Stokes. "I decided that's exactly what we need for Pride Month. So here's my first jab at it. Feel free to share if it moves you."

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The 'secular city'? The religious marketplace in New York has grown more complex

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The 'secular city'? The religious marketplace in New York has grown more complex

Early in his church-planting work in New York City, the Rev. Tim Keller focused on what he called the Center City, which started in lower Manhattan, near Wall Street, and extended past Central Park.

The Presbyterian Church in America seminary professor camped in the old Tramway Diner under the 59th Street Bridge at 2nd Avenue, asking New Yorkers probing questions about their lives. He dug into the socialist Dissent Magazine to learn the city's secular lingo.

But New York was already evolving in 1989, when Redeemer Presbyterian Church opened its doors two weeks after Easter, said Tony Carnes, leader of the "A Journey through NYC Religions" website.

Changes began in the 1970s in the city's boroughs "with more internationals arriving from all over," including Global South cultures in which "no one doubts that faith is an important part of life," he said, reached by telephone. "It took time to see these changes affect Manhattan, but they did."

In 2000, Carnes' team found -- through a face-to-face census with church leaders -- 120 evangelical congregations in the Manhattan Center City. That number reached 197 a decade later, 251 in 2014, 308 in 2019 and are expected to near 370 in 2024.

"We know there are others, because we hear things all the time," said Carnes. "We just haven't found them all -- yet."

For decades, researchers considered New York City a lab for the brand of secularism defined by Harvard Divinity School historian Harvey Cox, author of the influential "The Secular City" in 1965. In a famous quotation, he noted: "Secular Humanism is opposed to other religions; it actively rejects, excludes, and attempts to eliminate traditional theism from meaningful participation in the American culture."

However, at sidewalk level it's obvious that there are "two New Yorks," noted Carnes. While secularism remains dominant in mass media, academia and other parts of the cultural establishment, the reality is more complex in Queens, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Staten Island and now parts of Manhattan.

It's hard to consider the Big Apple a truly "secular city," when considering the rising number of New Yorkers who are Muslims, Orthodox Jews, Hindus and evangelical and Pentecostal believers in Latino, Black, Asian, white and interracial flocks.