Politics

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

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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.

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RFK Jr. offers a testimony about God, faith, heroin and fighting his personal demons

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RFK Jr. offers a testimony about God, faith, heroin and fighting his personal demons

After he decided to kick heroin, the young Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., tried to think about daily life in a totally different way.

Rather than trusting his willpower to do the right thing for a whole day, he began dividing each day into 40 or more decisions.

"When the alarm goes off in the morning, do I get immediately out of bed, or do I stay in bed for an extra 20 minutes with my indolent thoughts?", asked Kennedy, speaking to a recent Socrates in the City gathering. "When I reach in the closet and pull out a pair of blue jeans, and all those wire hangers fall on the ground, do I shut the door like I used to and say that I'm too much of a big shot, that's somebody else's job, or do I go in there and clean up my own mess?"

After 14 years of addiction, Kennedy said he tried to act as if each decision was a moral test and God was watching. This was a leap of faith, since his addiction attacked the Catholic faith of his childhood.

This New York City audience -- Socrates events focus on "Life, God and other small topics" -- knew Kennedy would discuss his independent White House campaign and his edgy views on the environment, vaccines, autism, assassinations and similar topics.

Basic questions would be covered, as with previous guests since 2000 -- such as scientist Francis Collins, author Malcolm Gladwell, television legend Dick Cavett, Rabbi Sir Jonathan Sacks of England, Anglican Bishop N.T. Wright and Ambassador Caroline Kennedy, JFK's daughter.

But politics isn't the only reality. Socrates in the City founder and host Eric Metaxas -- a conservative Christian radio host and the New York Times bestselling author of "Bonhoeffer," "Miracles" and other books would ask Kennedy about the role of faith in his complicated and controversial life.

"I was never an atheist -- ever. I was raised in a deeply religious family, and I integrated that," said Kennedy. "My dad was killed when I was 14. I became a heroin addict when I was 15. ... When you're … living against conscience, which is what happens when you're an addict, you tend to push any kind of notion of God off over the periphery of your horizon."

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Southern Baptists wade into the troubled waters of religious liberty -- once again

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Southern Baptists wade into the troubled waters of religious liberty -- once again

In the midst of heated debates about female pastors and the morality of in vitro fertilization, the national Southern Baptist Convention recently passed a religious liberty resolution that -- in terms of Baptist history -- was rather ordinary.

But these are not ordinary times in American life.

"Messengers" from autonomous SBC congregations resolved: "That we encourage and support robust Christian engagement in the public square, including individual Christians who pursue elected or appointed office in order to influence government by living out their Christian worldview while advocating Christian morals with respect for the consciences of all people."

The "resolved" clauses then became much more specific.

"That we oppose any effort to establish a state religion of any nation, including the United States of America; that we refute the idea that God has commanded any state to establish any religion or any denomination; and we reject any government coercion or enforcement of religious belief, including blasphemy laws. …

"That we oppose any effort to use the people and the churches of the Southern Baptist Convention to establish Christianity as the state religion of the United States of America."

During debates on convention-floor debates, that blunt line in Resolution 2 -- opposing efforts to establish a Christian "state religion" -- was challenged by the Rev. Justin Ramey of Crider Baptist Church in Eddyville, Kentucky.

"What does that mean?", he asked. "Should we remove 'In God We Trust' from our currency? Does it mean we should remove 'under God' from our pledge? I'm grateful that our government at one time at least acknowledged Christianity as our foundation and encouraged it."

The final Resolution 2 text failed to include two important words in today's fiery debates about religion in American life, according to Mark Wingfield of the progressive Baptist News Global website.

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The big idea: Harrison Butker focused on pandemic-era Catholic pain about sacraments

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The big idea: Harrison Butker focused on pandemic-era Catholic pain about sacraments

Early in the coronavirus pandemic, Catholic clergy -- along with pastors in many other traditions -- struggled with secular authorities or even their own leaders while trying to provide sacred rites at the heart of their faith.

Churches were locked. Some priests turned to open-air confessions, even automobile drive-through lanes. In some cities priests in hazmat suits were allowed to offer last rites, usually without family members present. Some officials, secular and sacred, were more flexible than others.

A network of Catholic activists wrote an urgent plea: "Bishops, we, your faithful flock, implore you to do everything you can to make the sacraments more available. … Something is terribly wrong with a culture that allows abortion clinics and liquor stores to remain open but shuts down places of worship."

This bitter divide resurfaced during the May 11 Benedictine College speech by Harrison Butker, a three-time Super Bowl champion from the nearby Kansas City Chiefs. While remarks about women and family life dominated headlines, most of the placekicker's 20-minute address focused on divisions inside Catholicism.

Cultural chaos is "in our parishes, and sadly, in our cathedrals too," said Butker. "As we saw during the pandemic, too many bishops were not leaders at all. They were motivated by fear, fear of being sued, fear of being removed, fear of being disliked. They showed by their actions, intentional or unintentional, that the sacraments don't actually matter. Because of this, countless people died alone, without access to the sacraments."

Thus, many Catholics have simply stopped listening to bishops they believe are acting like politicians, instead of spiritual fathers, he claimed. "Today, our shepherds are far more concerned with keeping the doors open to the chancery than they are with saying the difficult stuff out loud."

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When it comes to 'religious liberty,' Southern Baptists are pro religious liberty -- for all

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When it comes to 'religious liberty,' Southern Baptists are pro religious liberty -- for all

At a pivotal moment in world history, the president of the United States asked citizens to join him in an urgent prayer.

"Almighty God: Our sons, pride of our nation, this day have set upon a mighty endeavor, a struggle to preserve our Republic, our religion and our civilization," he said. "Lead them straight and true; give strength to their arms, stoutness to their hearts, steadfastness in their faith. … Some will never return. Embrace these, Father, and receive them, Thy heroic servants, into Thy kingdom."

That was Franklin D. Roosevelt on D-Day, as Allied troops entered northern France.

"FDR said things about God and America that if anyone spoke those words today people would have heart attacks," said Daniel Darling, director of the Land Center for Cultural Engagement at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.

"Presidents have always talked about God and faith, because they're speaking to ordinary Americans," he added. Biblical language has also been common, and not just among presidents backed by evangelical Protestants. President Barack Obama, Darling noted, "quoted scripture more often than George W. Bush, who may have avoided that since his critics screamed 'THEOCRACY!' whenever he did."

In recent years, academics and journalists have been especially critical of "Christian Nationalism," a concept that has become hard to clearly define and monitor in political life.

Researchers with Neighborly Faith -- a group that helps evangelicals build stronger relationships with other religious groups -- studied academic publications addressing this issue and created a detailed, 14-point compromise definition stating, in part: "Christian Nationalism is a movement advancing a vision of America's past, present, and future that excludes people of non-Christian religions and non-Western cultures. Christian Nationalists romanticize Christianity's influence on America's development, attributing the nation's historical provenance to God's special favor."

Some researchers add "white" before "Christian Nationalism" and stress that adherents believe America is increasingly threatened by immigration, Critical Race Theory, feminism, LGBTQ+ rights and other trends.

Neighborly Faith concluded that 5% of Americans self-identify as Christian nationalists, and 11% can be considered "adherents," Darling noted.

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As a hostage, journalist Terry Anderson's Catholic faith was tested -- to say the least

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As a hostage, journalist Terry Anderson's Catholic faith was tested -- to say the least

During his 2,454 days in captivity — between strategic moves among 20 or more hiding places in Lebanon — Hezbollah leaders often allowed journalist Terry Anderson to read a Bible.

Armed pro-Iran militants seized the Associated Press correspondent on March 16, 1985, then jammed him into the trunk of a Mercedes-Benz. This took place during a painful time in his personal life, and Anderson was already asking hard questions about his Catholic faith.

Anderson pleaded with his guards to get him a Bible. When they did that, he read it from cover to cover 50 times while in captivity. Early on, he also learned that a Catholic priest -- Father Lawrence Jenco -- was a hostage. During their time together, Jenco heard Anderson's first confession in 25 years.

"I still had plenty of questions about the Bible," Anderson told me, during a 1999 global conference for Christian journalists in Chichester, England. Then, after Jenco was released, "I was locked up with a seminary professor." That hostage was the Presbyterian missionary Benjamin Weir, from the Near East School of Theology in Beirut.

"I needed a priest and God gave me a priest," said Anderson. "I had Bible questions and God gave me a New Testament professor. … I realized that God had not abandoned me."

Anderson died this past Sunday (April 21) at age 76, after complications from heart surgery. While in captivity, he became the symbol -- for journalists worldwide -- of the nearly 100 foreigners seized by militants during what Time magazine called "the decade of hostages."

After his 1991 release, Anderson taught journalism at several major universities, while struggling behind the scenes with post-traumatic stress disorder.

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Historic Ukrainian church, once again, seeks help from global Orthodox leaders

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Historic Ukrainian church, once again, seeks help from global Orthodox leaders

Close observers of Eastern Orthodox Christianity were not surprised when the recent World Russian People's Council bluntly rejected "abortion propaganda," efforts to promote LGBTQ+ rights and this age of "sexual licentiousness and debauchery."

It wasn't surprising when that Moscow conference urged the defense of traditional families, "strong with many children," during an era when birth rates are falling.

Then there was this proclamation -- both theological and political -- about the war in Ukraine: "From a spiritual and moral point of view, the special military operation is a Holy War, in which Russia and its people, defending the single spiritual space of Holy Rus, fulfill the mission of Restrainer, protecting the world from the onslaught of globalism and the victory of the West, which has fallen into Satanism."

In response, a World Council of Churches statement noted that Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill, only a year ago, stressed that his controversial "Holy War" references were about the "metaphysical realm," not to warfare in Ukraine. WCC General Secretary Jerry Pillay claimed that the Moscow patriarch agreed that armed warfare cannot be "holy."

But the most striking rejection of the "Russian World" document came from the Department for External Church Relations of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, which for centuries had been linked to the Russian Orthodox Church.

"The Church should care about the proper preaching of the Gospel, which Christ commanded her to do, and not of the formation of geopolitical and geo-spiritual concepts," said its public statement. The "Russian World" text ignored the reality that "Ukraine has her own history, and Ukrainians have the right to their national identity and independence, which we are ready to keep defending. …

"Instead of providing ideological support and justification for Russia's military aggression and intervention in Ukraine, we believe that the Orthodox Church in Russia should have raised her voice against this war. … Calls for the destruction of Ukraine and the justification of a military aggression are inconsistent with the Gospel teaching."

Quoting its leader, Metropolitan Onuphry of Kyiv, the statement stressed: "We do not build any Russian world, we build God's world."

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Into year 36: When it comes to religion news, many journalists are in a class of their own

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Into year 36: When it comes to religion news, many journalists are in a class of their own

After studying relevant police reports, Americans Against Antisemitism issued a 2023 document noting the obvious -- that rising numbers of Orthodox Jews were being assaulted in New York City.

The Orthodox, especially Hasidic Jews, were victims in 94% of the 194 antisemitic assaults between 2018-2022 reported to the city's Hate Crimes Task Force. Most of these crimes occurred in Jewish neighborhoods and some were captured on video. Only two of the criminal cases led to convictions.

Assaults on Orthodox men and women "ranged from spitting, to punching, to someone being hit in the face with a brick," noted Batya Ungar-Sargon of Newsweek, in her book "Bad News." The crime wave produced few news reports until a 2019 mass shooting at a Kosher supermarket in Jersey City and a machete attack on a Hannukah party in Monsey, north of New York City.

Then came COVID-19 and Orthodox Jews, along with others in close-knit ethnic and immigrant communities, were hit hard.

"Because the national news media saw that they could cast the Jews as the villains of the virus instead of its victims, they suddenly couldn't get enough of them," wrote Ungar-Sargon, an Orthodox Jew. "Every outlet began running pieces … blaming Orthodox recalcitrance to social distancing or mask wearing for spreading the virus, not just among their own communities but to their neighbors, too."

Many of these pandemic-driven stories were valid -- but packed with errors about Orthodox beliefs and traditions. Ungar-Sargon asked: Why did journalists jump into "hyperdrive" in this case, after downplaying all those antisemitic attacks? Why do many journalists see Americans they consider "less intelligent and uneducated" as "beyond salvation, irredeemable and filled with hate"? She has continued her work in a new book, "Second Class."

In the late 1970s, researchers began asking why journalists often struggle when covering religion stories or avoid religious news altogether. I wrote my 1982 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign graduate project on this topic and some of that work was published by Quill, the magazine of the Society of Professional Journalists.

This week marks the start of my 36th year writing this "On Religion" column. I also spent 20 years leading the GetReligion.org project, which closed in February, but its archive remains online for those studying religion and the press.

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Joe Lieberman at BYU: America needs more believers in Washington, D.C.

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Joe Lieberman at BYU: America needs more believers in Washington, D.C.

The fall of 2011 was a symbolic time for Sen. Joseph Lieberman to deliver an address at Brigham Young University on faith and public service.

The White House race was heating up, and Mitt Romney was on his way to winning the Republican nomination. Some politicos were worried that Romney could become the first member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to fill that role.

"I don't share that anxiety," he said, drawing on his experiences in 2000 as Vice President Al Gore's running mate -- the first Jew on a major party's presidential ticket. "A candidate does not give up their freedom of religion or freedom of expression when they decide to run for office. They have the right, if they choose, to talk about the role that faith plays in their life, understanding that others have the right to decide, based on those expressions, whether that affects their view of those candidates."

For example, Lieberman explained that, as a college freshman, he was inspired when John F. Kennedy was the first Catholic elected as president.

"I will tell you that as a young Jewish American -- though I was not thinking of a political career, believe me, at age 18 -- when he won, I had some sense that doors had opened for me, that somehow a horizon had expanded for me and for others who were from faiths that were not the majority, for different races, or for other nationalities."

Lieberman died on March 27 at age 82, ending a career defined as much by his life as an Orthodox Jewish as by his attempts to remain a centrist as Democrats kept moving to the cultural left. While voting with his party on issues such as abortion, gun control and gay rights, he was a strong supporter of religious liberty – including for conservatives who frequently clashed with his party.

During his years in the U.S. Senate, Lieberman had many friends on the Republican side of the aisle, often cooperating with conservatives on bipartisan projects addressing hunger, low-income housing, relief programs in Africa and government support for faith-based charities.