family life

Tour bus Bible lesson: Oliver Anthony trying to make sense of his new life

Tour bus Bible lesson: Oliver Anthony trying to make sense of his new life

At this stage of his country music career, Oliver Anthony is still reaching his fans by propping his smartphone in a tour-bus window and recording social-media videos.

Seven months ago, of course, he didn't have a career, didn't have a tour bus and didn't have fans. That was before a do-it-yourself solo recording of his populist anthem "Rich Men North of Richmond" hit YouTube and, with 128 million clicks at this point, changed his life.

In a recent video — " To all my Friends and Family" — Anthony apologized for his relative silence for a few months. He said he was swamped in music-business "craziness," finding professionals to handle concert merchandise and lawyers to protect his songs. In January, he retreated to an old church in Savannah, Georgia, to record his first album — using "microphones from the 1940s" and the natural echo in the sanctuary.

"You know, I didn't want to come out on tour to just sing a bunch of songs to people and then go home and make money. It's like, I wanted to touch people. I wanted to get into people's heads and just try to make an impact," said Anthony, a high-school dropout in rural Virginia who held late-shift jobs in several factories in the North Carolina mountains.

"It's such a crazy place that we're living in now. … It feels like the people that we elect to give a voice for us, they're the complete opposite. If anything, they silence us and manipulate us. … It feels like, in a way, maybe, that we've already went off the cliff as a nation."

For many critics, that sounds like red-state political talk, not the words of an everyman who spent years struggling with depression and alcohol.

While Anthony's impact in America has been massive, audiences at recent concerts in Ireland and Australia also belted out "Rich Men North of Richmond" lyrics line for line -- especially the chorus: "It’s a damn shame what the world's gotten to / For people like me and people like you / Wish I could just wake up and it not be true / But it is, oh, it is."

'Good men' vs. 'Real men' -- Do religious leaders understand the difference?

'Good men' vs. 'Real men' -- Do religious leaders understand the difference?

The 18-foot granite Titanic Memorial in Washington, D.C., shows a robed man rising from the waves, his arms extended like a cross.

Once a year, at the precise time on April 15, 1912, when the liner was declared doomed, the Men's Titanic Society gathers at this statue, which is hidden behind Fort McNair after being moved to make way for the Kennedy Center. Members wear tuxedos, to honor the passenger who donned evening clothes in order to "die like a gentleman."

A toast in the rite includes: "Chivalry, gallantry, bravery and grace. … To the young and old, the rich and the poor, the ignorant and the learned, all who gave their lives nobly to save women and children. To those brave men."

No one debates the values that inspired that sacrifice.

"Men seem to instinctively treat masculinity as the call to die so that others may live -- the highest form of sacrifice," noted Nancy Pearcey, in "The Toxic War on Masculinity," her latest work of Christian apologetics. "That principle seems to be built into men's created nature."

However, Pearcey noted that sociologist Michael Kimmel has offered clues as to why many activists now condemn "traditional masculinity."

Kimmel asked West Point cadets to describe a "good man," and heard "honor," "duty," "integrity," "sacrifice," "do the right thing," "be a protector" and similar responses. When he asked what it means to "man up" as "a real man," cadets said, "tough," "never show weakness," "win at all costs," "suck it up," "get rich" and "get laid."

Pearcey calls the "good man" credo the "software of God's creation," while the "real man" stereotype reveals the "virus of sin."

'Naughty list' selections: Rolling Stone issues a morality warning to parents?

'Naughty list' selections: Rolling Stone issues a morality warning to parents?

Parents in pews rarely turn to Rolling Stone for advice about pop-culture morality.

But the magazine's expose about "The Idol," a summer HBO series about a romance between a pop starlet and an edgy cult leader, produced waves of viral quotes. Production staffers called it a "rape fantasy" that verged on "sexual torture porn." One said the series about a young woman "finding herself sexually" evolved into "a show about a man who gets to abuse this woman, and she loves it."

The network cancelled "The Idol," even though a public-relations statement cited "strong audience response" to "one of HBO's most provocative" dramas.

Thus, HBO landed on the Parents Television and Media Council "naughty list" for 2023. The citation noted: "HBO has led the charge towards marketing explicit, adult content to children and teens, introducing the sexually explicit The Idol to viewers this past summer, quietly adding Naked Attraction featuring uncensored fully naked contestants, and extending teen-targeted Euphoria for another season of drugs and depravity."

National Public Radio hailed "Euphoria" as "thrilling, daring, disquieting and compelling," as well as "a parent's worst nightmare" with its focus on high-school students who have "problems handling an excess of drugs, drink and sex" and "always seem to make the worst choices."

While stressing that PTMC is secular, it's obvious that today's digital screen culture -- delivered through smartphones, tablets, laptops and, every now and then, televisions -- is raising issues that religious leaders cannot ignore, said Melissa Henson, the organization's programming director.

"Unquestionably, COVID accelerated a shift in media consumption patterns. … We're not talking about the end of traditional television, but there is no question that the audience is becoming more and more fragmented," said Henson, in a telephone interview.

Have American Muslims joined the Religious Right? Some school leaders say, 'Yes'

Have American Muslims joined the Religious Right? Some school leaders say, 'Yes'

Faced with a throng of worried parents, Montgomery County Councilmember Kristin Mink met with a few Muslim protestors to hear their objections to the "LGBTQ+ inclusive texts" that school teachers would be using with their children.

The Maryland Democrat was not amused by what she heard.

"This issue has unfortunately put … some, not all of course, Muslim families on the same side of an issue as white supremacists and outright bigots," said Mink, in early June. "The folks I have talked with here today, I would not put in the same category as those folks, although, you know, it's … complicated."

Public-school efforts to promote equity, she added, are "not an infringement on, you know, particular religious freedoms."

This public statement stunned a coalition of Muslims, Orthodox Christians, evangelicals, Jews and others committed to a Maryland policy that allowed students to avoid some activities focusing on family life, gender change and same-sex relationships. These parents, for starters, objected to the use of books such as "Born Ready: The True Story of a Boy Named Penelope," "Rainbow Revolutionaries: Fifty LGBTQ+ People Who Made History" and "Pride Puppy!", an ABC book familiarizing preschool and kindergarten children with the sights and sounds encountered when attending Pride marches.

In the spring, Montgomery County officials limited use of the opt-out policy, while releasing a notice stating that "teachers will not send home letters to inform families when inclusive books are read in the future."

Council on American-Islamic Relations leaders -- citing documents from an open-records request -- noted that officials also encouraged teachers to "scold, debate or 'disrupt the either/or thinking' of … students who express traditional viewpoints" on gender, family life and sexuality. Also, students should be instructed not to use "hurtful," "negative" words.

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

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.

Life in troubled times: Conservative Catholic archbishop faces conservative Lutherans

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."

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

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?"

Pandemic caused today's church woes? Troubling questions were there before that

Pandemic caused today's church woes? Troubling questions were there before that

For the experts who examine trends in pews, the post-pandemic tea leaves have been hard to read -- with a few people going to church more often, others staying away and some still watching services online.

But it's important for pastors to note another sobering fact, according to one of America's most experienced observers of Protestant life. Here it is: The typical church has to keep adding members simply to keep membership steady. And it's becoming increasingly important to maintain a growing core of believers who are truly committed to faith and ministry.

"We used to have people we called 'social' Christians, even though that's an oxymoron," said Thom Rainer, founder of the Church Answers website and former dean of the Billy Graham School of Missions and Evangelism at Southern Baptist Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky.

"Today, these people feel that they no longer need that 'Christian' label to be accepted in business and community life," he said, reached by telephone. "COVID sped things up -- made trends more obvious. But the pandemic was the accelerator, not the cause of what's happening."

Surveys since 2020 show that a "steady share of Americans -- about 40% -- say they have participated in religious services in the prior month one way or the other," according to a Pew Research Center report. But other details are blurry, since the "share of U.S. adults who … attend religious services once a month or more has dropped slightly, from 33% in 2019 to 30% in 2022."

Meanwhile, Pew reported that 7% claim they are attending services in person more often, post-COVID, while "15% say they are participating in services VIRTUALLY more often."

It's important to factor new realities into patterns seen for decades, noted Rainer. For example, in a recent online essay he argued that, if a typical Protestant church has an average worship attendance of 100, it needs to add about 32 attendees a year just to stay even.

Here's the math. The odds say at least one person will die -- a factor that rises for churches with aging flocks. Then, while mobility rates have slightly declined, it's likely that nine members will move away. Also, Rainer said years of statistics show that "your church will lose seven church members to another local church for every 100 in attendance."

The No. 1 factor in annual decline?

Covenant pastor preached on death, grief and the tears of Jesus -- weeks before the attack

Covenant pastor preached on death, grief and the tears of Jesus -- weeks before the attack

The Bible's shortest verse -- "Jesus wept" -- is also one of its most important.

That was the message delivered by the Rev. Chad Scruggs in a March 5 sermon -- "Death's Conqueror" -- as the faithful at Nashville's Covenant Presbyterian Church continued their Lenten journey toward Holy Week and Easter's promise of new life after death.

"How do we face death in our world," he asked, "especially untimely deaths, without the pain and confusion of death leading us to despair?"

That was three weeks before a gunman crashed through the glass doors of his church's Covenant School and killed three staff members and three 9-year-old students -- including the pastor's daughter, Hallie Scruggs. Police fatally shot the attacker, 28-year-old Audrey Hale, a former Covenant student who had taken the name "Aiden" and male pronouns online

Police confirmed that Covenant had been targeted. But Nashville officials and the FBI have declined to release a "manifesto" referenced in Hale's final social-media warning: "One day this will make more sense. I've left more than enough evidence behind."

The families of those killed have mourned in private, even as solemn Holy Week rites flowed toward Easter (April 9) -- surrounded by a whirlwind of familiar arguments about gun control and a mental-health crisis that has shattered so many lives.

In his sermon before the attack, Scruggs had already plunged into deeper, ancient, mysteries -- stressing that believers can trust that God understands the grief, anger and confusion caused by violence and death.

When meeting the grieving family of his friend Lazarus, Jesus responded with anger, as well as compassion. Thus, the importance of the Gospel of John's blunt words: "Jesus wept."