Politics

Which candidate did Hell endorse? That isn't the real question facing believers right now

Which candidate did Hell endorse? That isn't the real question facing believers right now

Forget the opinions of newspaper czars, the question many voters needed to know in this feverish White House race was simple: Who did Hell endorse?

Writing in the style "The Screwtape Letters" by Christian apologist C.S. Lewis, in which a veteran tempter lectures lesser demons, Dominick Baruffi didn't answer that question. But his satirical lecture by the Infernal National Convention chairman "Gurtfoot" stressed that this year's options were truly hellish.

"Almost everything said in front of a camera is said for the purposes of being seen while saying it, and any policy has become entirely secondary to their celebrity," wrote Baruffi, a Westminster Theological Seminary graduate who works as a counselor for troubled children.

His demon "Gurtfoot" added: "What are the humans to do but either spend their time quarreling over choosing 'the lesser of two evils' or permit themselves to drift into apathy and ignorance? Of course, both are perfectly acceptable outcomes in our eyes. … If we can continue to produce candidates such as these two halfwits in the years to come our victory is all but assured."

But the main goal of the "Screwtape Endorses a Candidate" essay was not to slam the Republican and Democratic candidates. Instead, Baruffi focused on an issue discussed by insiders -- whether the acid of recent elections has warped how Christians view politics.

With President Donald Trump returning to the White House, progressive religious leaders will feel an immediate stab of disappointment. But believers on the left and right will soon have to face the fact that compromises are painful in a bitterly divided nation.

Thus, Baruffi's proud tempter noted: "The modern man now sees politics as repugnant, wholly undesirable and certainly unable to be discussed reasonably with others. …This is a great victory for our kind. The less the humans are made to think of the IDEA of politics, the more isolated and fractured they become, thus making them more vulnerable to our advances."

If millions of believers choose to flee politics, that will be tragic.

When a Doritos chip becomes a meme: Progressive take on Holy Communion?

When a Doritos chip becomes a meme: Progressive take on Holy Communion?

On election night in 2016, an event offering pain as well as triumph, Kamala Harris dug into a big bag of salty snack-food consolation.

"It was incredibly bittersweet. When I took the stage for my acceptance speech -- to represent California in the Senate -- I tore up my notes. I just said, 'We will fight,' " said Vice President Harris in a fundraising letter for her White House campaign.

"Then I went home, and I sat on the couch with a family-sized bag of nacho Doritos. I did not share one chip with anybody. ... Two things are true eight years later: I still love Doritos and we still have not stopped fighting."

Thus, in her campaign against Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump -- whose 2016 victory angered her -- the Harris team has used Doritos as a symbol of the feisty, combative side of her personality.

Thus, Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer recently made waves with a social-media clip in which she placed a Dorito on the tongue of podcaster Liz Plank, a popular online "influencer" and MSNBC contributor.

Many Catholics cried "foul," since Plank was kneeling and appeared to be imitating the posture of a believer receiving the sacrament of Holy Communion. After the video went viral, defenders of Whitmer and Plank said they were merely offering their take on a TikTok meme in which someone feeds food to a friend, and then awkwardly stares into the camera.

It didn't help that the full version of the video -- produced for Plank's "feministabulous" Instagram page -- also focused on debates about abortion rights. In the past, Plank has called faith-based crisis-pregnancy centers "fake clinics."

The president of the Michigan Catholic Conference was not amused.

What will happen if millions of religious believers sit out the 2024 election?

What will happen if millions of religious believers sit out the 2024 election?

It was the rare Trump quote that caused groans as it rocketed through conservative media.

But this soundbite came from an upcoming memoir from former First Lady Melania Trump: "Why should anyone other than the woman herself have the power to determine what she does with her own body? A woman's fundamental right of individual liberty, to her own life, grants her the authority to terminate her pregnancy if she wishes. … I have carried this belief with me throughout my entire adult life.”

Former President Donald Trump had already softened his party's strong stance against abortion, leading satirists at The Babylon Bee to note: "Pro-Lifers Excited To Choose Between Moderate Amount Of Baby Murder And High Amount of Baby Murder."

To put that in ballot-box terms, a new study by the Cultural Research Center at Arizona Christian University claimed that 32 million church-going Christians are poised to sit out this election, many because they are disillusioned or believe the results will be rigged.

If the number of conservative believers going to polls plummets, that would clash with trends in the last four White House races, according to political scientist Ryan Burge of Eastern Illinois University, author of "20 Myths about Religion and Politics in America."

"Half of the Christians are not going to vote. That's normal. That's old news. … We can expect those numbers to remain stable," said Burge, reached by telephone.

But there's another trend researchers expect to see again, he added. Yes, 80% of white evangelicals "voted for John McCain in 2008 and 80% have been voting for Donald Trump. We can expect that to happen again. It's what they do."

Sign of the times: It's painful -- but churches divided by doctrine almost always split

Sign of the times: It's painful -- but churches divided by doctrine almost always split

After decades of progressive dissent, the leaders of the Christian Reformed Church in America finally took a firm stand against the Sexual Revolution.

Not only did the 2022 CRC Synod, voting 123-53, condemn "adultery, premarital sex, extra-marital sex, polyamory, pornography and homosexual sex," it added the small, but influential, denomination's longstanding teachings on these moral issues to its "declaration of faith."

The report added: "The church must warn its members that those who refuse to repent of these sins -- as well as of idolatry, greed, and other such sins -- will not inherit the kingdom of God." Dissenters should "repent of such sins for the sake of their souls."

Dissent continued, especially in congregations with strategic ties to Calvin University in Grand Rapids, Michigan. At the 2024 CRC Synod, it was clear the denomination would lose several dozen congregations, out of 1,000 in North America.

The Grand Rapids Eastern Avenue congregation proclaimed: "While all members of the church must always be open to the leading of the Holy Spirit, it would be disingenuous for us as a church to deny, minimize, or hide a fundamental and intractable disagreement between a significant number of members of good standing in our church and the CRC's decision to make a particular interpretation a confessional matter." Thus, the "only way we can remain a Christian Reformed congregation with integrity … is under protest."

Head-on collisions are inevitable when believers in a religious institution proclaim -- in word and deed -- clashing stands on ancient doctrines, said the Rev. Michael Clary, of Christ the King Church in Cincinnati. While he is a popular social-media commentator on Reformed theology, he leads a Southern Baptist congregation.

Splits will occur -- because of core beliefs on both sides. Progressives truly believe doctrines must evolve to avoid causing pain to modern believers. Orthodox thinkers in various traditions truly believe they cannot edit what the New Testament describes as the "faith which was once delivered unto the saints."

That 2024 reality: Protestant pastors facing pressures linked to partisan politics?

That 2024 reality: Protestant pastors facing pressures linked to partisan politics?

Eight years ago, Lifeway Research asked Protestant pastors who they planned to support in the presidential election and only 3% declined to answer.

That number didn't change much in 2020, when 4% declined. But things changed recently, when almost a quarter of the pastors refused to voice their choice in the 2024 White House race.

Among those who tipped their hand, 50% said they would vote for former President Donald Trump and 24% backed Vice President Kamala Harris. The intriguing question was why -- in a tense, tight election -- so many clergy insisted that they were undecided or needed to remain silent for some other reason.

"Whether these pastors are mum because their vote might differ from the majority view in their congregations or because they are genuinely undecided was not clear," noted Mark Wingfield, of Baptist News Global. "Nationally, as few as 3% of all voters are considered truly undecided this election year, a much lower share than in previous years."

In the document explaining the survey, Lifeway executive director Scott McConnell noted that how pastors define "their own political party preference" is consistently the best way to predict their voting-booth decisions.

Half of the Protestants in the survey identified as Republicans, while 18% were Democrats and 25% said they were political independents. Clergy leading conservative flocks -- evangelical, Baptist, nondenominational or Pentecostal -- were most likely to be Republicans. Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans and clergy in other progressive mainline churches were most likely to be Democrats. Also, Black pastors were among those most likely to back Harris (71%) and the least likely to support Trump (5%).

Thus, a recent Pew Research Center survey found that 82% of white evangelicals -- clergy and laity -- planned to vote for Trump, while 86% of Black Protestants supported Harris. White mainline Protestants were more evenly divided, with 58% ready to back Trump.

Progressive evangelicals reject partisan theology -- in the Donald Trump choir

Progressive evangelicals reject partisan theology -- in the Donald Trump choir

The hours after an apparent assassination attempt are a tricky time for social-media humor.

Some readers didn't get the joke when a progressive evangelical offered a hot take on the man with an AK-47 hiding in the bushes beside Donald Trump's golf course.

"This could either be somebody waiting to try to kill the former president or somebody legitimately using his AK as a putter," noted the Rev. Ben Marsh of First Alliance Church in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, on X. Then he added: "Folks, we're talking about Florida here."

As critics circulated the quip, Marsh reposted strong rejections of political violence, including this appeal: "Please protect Trump and ban these guns!!!"

The furor was timely, since Marsh was one of the first to sign "Our Confession of Evangelical Conviction," a new statement urging evangelicals to reject verbal violence in American life.

"Unlike the false security promised by political idolatry and its messengers, the perfect love of God drives away all fear," noted a key passage. "We reject the stoking of fears and the use of threats as an illegitimate form of godly motivation, and we repudiate the use of violence to achieve political goals as incongruent with the way of Christ."

Skye Jethani of the Holy Post Podcast, the document's lead author, tweeted: "The attempted murder of Donald Trump is evil & every Christian should condemn it."

In the bitterly divided evangelical world, any discussion of these issues -- such as a confession signed by A-List evangelical Trump critics, as well as some doctrinal progressives -- will automatically be framed by the rhetoric of the former president and his boldest supporters. Decades of rapier thrusts by late-night comedians, newsroom warriors and oppo-researchers fade into the past.

Journalism is a tricky business in Roman Catholic cyperspace

Journalism is a tricky business in Roman Catholic cyperspace

When U.S. Catholic bishops gathered in Baltimore in 2023, they were prepared to vote on an updated document for believers seeking guidance in voting booths.

The draft prepared beforehand called abortion "a preeminent priority" for the bishops, but not -- in a rhetorical switch -- their most important issue in political life. Editors at The Pillar website obtained a copy of the proposed language and published a news story.

"Well, a number of bishops read that in The Pillar," noted Ed Condon, one of the website's two founders, "so several of them proposed amendments to change the text to stronger language. … More than one bishop told us he was only informed about the issue because he read it in The Pillar."

The final text included this phrase: "The threat of abortion remains our preeminent priority." In moral theology terms, "a preeminent priority" is quite different from a statement that abortion remains "our preeminent priority." That bright red line has caused fierce debates, especially with a pro-abortion-rights Catholic in the White House.

A heated opinion piece would have generated as many, or more, reader "clicks" than a hard-news report, which would have been "good for business," noted Condon.

Opinion is cheap. Reporting is expensive.

"We don't have ads on our site, which means we don't make a penny from page views," he wrote, in the website's newsletter. That was a strategic choice, "because we don't ever want to set ourselves up with a perverse incentive to write sensationalist stories we aren't sure about."

In the heated environs of Catholic cyberspace, that kind of reporting will draw fierce criticism from partisans on the other side of doctrinal debates that have political, moral and cultural implications.

Catholic liberals and many mainstream journalists screamed "foul" when The Pillar printed several 2021 stories -- built on patterns in cellphone data -- claiming that some important Catholic clergy in the United States, and in non-tourist zones inside the Vatican, were using the hookup app Grindr. A Religion News Service column called this coverage "unethical, homophobic innuendo."

Why those fierce, tribal wars over parental rights are not going to go away

Why those fierce, tribal wars over parental rights are not going to go away

The vague 22-word prayer from the New York Board of Regents was totally nondenominational: "Almighty God, we acknowledge our dependence upon Thee, and we beg Thy blessings upon us, our parents, our teachers and our Country."

A few parents protested, saying any kind of prayer -- even voluntary -- violated the rights of students from homes led by atheists, agnostics, or believers from other faiths.

In other words, the pivotal 1962 Engel v. Vitale school-prayer decision was a parental rights case. Schools had to change.

Two years ago, the Montgomery County Board of Education created a policy requiring pre-K and elementary students to read texts about LGBTQ+ life. A Maryland network of Muslim, Christian and Jewish parents protested, saying this violated their parental rights -- exposing their children to beliefs that clashed with beliefs in their own homes.

This spring, the 4th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals rejected alternative activities for these students. Schools would not have to change -- for now.

"In the school-prayer cases, parents wanted to defend their children from state-mandated prayers and any exposure to religious faith. It was a matter of parental rights," noted philosopher Francis Beckwith, who also teaches Church-State Studies at Baylor University.

"Now the shoe is on the other foot, with the state preaching a different set of doctrines. If you pay close attention, the left is making arguments that are similar to those the right once made about prayer in public schools. ... The state says it wants children to become good Americans. The question is whether parents get to play a role in that. These battles are going to continue."

In another parental rights case that may reach the U.S. Supreme Court, California Gov. Gavin Newsom recently signed legislation banning policies that require public educators to tell parents if their children take steps, at school, to change their gender identities. The state wants to protect children who believe they are transgender from their own parents -- if parents' beliefs clash with what is taught at school.

At crucial times in life, J.D. Vance focused on 'Wisdom from the Book of Mamaw'

At crucial times in life, J.D. Vance focused on 'Wisdom from the Book of Mamaw'

The young J.D. Vance was used to the melodramas surrounding his mother Beverly Vance with her addictions to painkillers, heroin and alcohol, as well as the chaos caused by her five failed marriages and countless live-in boyfriends.

But his mother was trying to steer a car during one pivotal clash with Bonnie Blanton Vance, the matriarch known to all as "Mamaw."

"There was a lot of screaming, some punching and driving, and then a stopped car on the side of the road," wrote Vance, in his bestseller "Hillbilly Elegy," from 2016. "It's a miracle we didn't crash and die: Mom driving and slapping the kids in the backseat; Mamaw on the passenger side, slapping and screaming at Mom. … We drove home in silence after Mamaw explained that if Mom lost her temper again, Mamaw would shoot her in the face."

Once he was safely home -- at his grandmother's house -- Vance approached her on the battered couch where she napped, watched TV and read her Bible. He asked one question: "Mamaw, does God love us?" She hugged him and began weeping.

What Vance calls "Wisdom from the Book of Mamaw" guided his rise through the U.S. Marines to Ohio State University, Yale Law School, Silicon Valley, the U.S. Senate and now the Republican nomination to become Vice President of the United States.

Mamaw was a lifelong Democrat who distrusted organized religion, including "holy rollers" and snake handlers, cursed like a sailor and, when she died, her house contained 19 loaded handguns. But the soft heart and steel spine of the family's "hillbilly terminator" provided stability when needed.

In "Hillbilly Elegy" described what she taught him: "To coast through life was to squander my God-given talent, so I had to work hard. I had to take care of my family because Christian duty demanded it. I needed to forgive, not just for my mother's sake but for my own. I should never despair, for God had a plan."

Mamaw wasn't much of a churchgoer, but no one doubted her faith.