mass media

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Will religious leaders dare to address the smartphone crisis? Part I

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Will religious leaders dare to address the smartphone crisis? Part I

The scene unfolds whenever the Rev. Russell Moore asks people in the pews to read a passage of scripture as he begins a sermon.

At that point, "most people pull up their phones and go to their Bible app rather than their physical Bible," said Moore, editor of Christianity Today and former head of the Southern Baptist Convention's Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission.

Once those digital screens light up, one thing leads to another, he said. People keep saying: "I have an hour where I come in and worship … and I'm distracted by -- I'll get pings on my phone. I'm getting distracted by all of that."

Maybe churches should consider a strategic change in their worship plans, said Moore, in a podcast conversation with Jonathan Haidt, author of the bestseller "The Anxious Generation" and the Thomas Cooley Professor of Ethical Leadership at New York University.

There has been a trend in some evangelical churches, noted Moore, to offer "scent-free services" in their schedules. By doing this, church leaders are saying: "We have some people with allergies, so we're going to have a service -- you don't have to go to this service -- but if you do, you're going to say, 'I'm not coming in wearing cologne or perfume or whatever.'"

Moving to the challenges of the digital age, Moore asked: "Do you think it could work to say: 'We're going to have specific worship services that are phone free. We're not mandating that everybody come in without phones -- but for this service.' Would that do anything?"

Haidt interjected: "That's a great idea, because there are a couple of things going on here that are interesting, psychologically. One is that many of us have desires for how we want to be in the long run … but then when faced with temptation, we cave."

The key is whether clergy are willing to discuss screens-culture problems and then dare people to consider acting -- together.

"I'll bet, if the pastor talks about this with the congregation and says, … 'Do you feel that your phone -- your digital stuff -- is distracting you in ways that you're not comfortable with?' Almost all hands are going to go up," said Haidt, a self-avowed Jewish atheist. The next question: "How many of you would like to really be present when worshipping, versus distracted?" Once again, he predicted, the "hands are going to go up."

The problems found in religious communities mirror those found in schools, where researchers are seeing patterns of anxiety, depression and digital addictions among the young. Millions of people feel trapped.

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Hard question from Bob Briner: Why are there so few excellent Christian movies?

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Hard question from Bob Briner: Why are there so few excellent Christian movies?

Decades later, it's hard to remember how much "Chariots of Fire" shocked the Hollywood establishment, with soaring box-office totals and four wins at the 1982 Oscars -- including a Best Picture win for producer David Puttnam.

The film's focus on two legendary runners -- one Christian and the other Jewish -- also pleased believers who rarely applaud how faith is handled on screen.

That sent the late Bob Briner to London, seeking Puttnam's private office. Briner was an Emmy winner and global sports media trailblazer who worked with tennis legend Arthur Ashe, Dave Dravecky, Michael Jordan and many others.

"Naive soul that I am, I believed that the success of Chariots would trigger a spate of similar films," Briner wrote, in "Roaring Lambs," a 1993 book that was popular with college students and among media professionals. "It seemed to me that the movie moguls would see that a great, uplifting story … backed up by stirring music and produced on a reasonable budget would be a formula for success after success."

That didn't happen. A melancholy Puttnam had stacks of potential scripts.

"He was looking, but not finding," wrote Briner. During his career, Puttnam had "shown an affinity for producing quality, uplifting, affirming, even Christian-oriented movies, but no one was bringing him scripts of quality."

Briner, who died of cancer in 1999, was an articulate evangelical and supporter of Christian education and all kinds of projects in mass media, the fine arts, business and print storytelling. I met him through his efforts to meet journalists who were active in various Christian traditions, while working in mainstream news.

Now, the Briner Institute is publishing a new edition of "Roaring Lambs," while seeking discussions of the many ways the Internet era has changed the media marketplace, creating new ways for religious believers to reach mainstream consumers -- but also temptations to settle for niche-media Christian products.

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Jonathan Haidt: It's time for clergy to start worrying about smartphone culture

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Jonathan Haidt: It's time for clergy to start worrying about smartphone culture

Preaching to teen-agers has always been a challenge.

But in the smartphone age, clergy need to realize that the odds of making a spiritual connection have changed -- radically. Young people who spend as many as 10 or more hours a day focusing on digital screens will find it all but impossible to listen to an adult talk about anything, especially in a religious sanctuary.

"As long as children have a phone-based childhood there is very little hope for their spiritual education," said Jonathan Haidt, author of a bestseller -- "The Anxious Generation" -- that has raised the heat in public debates about controlling or banning smartphones in schools.

"An essential precondition is to delay the phone-based life until the age of 18, I would say. Don't let them fall off into cyberspace, because once they do, it's going to be so spiritually degrading for the rest of their lives," he said, in a Zoom interview. "There's not much you can do in church if they are spending 10 hours a day outside of church on their phones."

It would be hard for the cultural stakes to be higher, argued Haidt, the Thomas Cooley Professor of Ethical Leadership at New York University. Thus, his book's weighty subtitle: "How the Great Rewiring of Childhood is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness."

While Haidt's work has ignited debates among politicians, academics and high-tech entrepreneurs, reactions have been muted among religious leaders who are usually quick to spot threats to children. Then again, clergy may not be used to a self-avowed Jewish atheist issuing warnings about the "spiritual degradation" of young people.

It would be a big step forward, he said, if "the leaders of various denominations could make a clear statement about how the phone-based childhood is a threat, not only to their mental health, but to their spiritual health. … We can only save our kids from this if we have the churches, families and schools all working together."

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Oliver Anthony looks ahead, one year into life after 'Rich Men North of Richmond'

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Oliver Anthony looks ahead, one year into life after 'Rich Men North of Richmond'

It was a strange way for Oliver Anthony to mark the anniversary of the YouTube video that turned him into a country music roots phenomenon.

"Rich Men North of Richmond" launched on August 8, 2023. When that date rolled around a year later, Hurricane Debby was sweeping through Virginia. The creeks were rising as Anthony headed into the woods with his dogs and his smartphone to record another emotional mini sermon to his fans.

"By the Lord's will, you guys have really, truly changed my life forever," he said, the rain dripping from his red hair and beard. "If I deleted all of my social-media accounts and I just wrote songs and uploaded them, and I hid out here in the woods for the rest of my life, just the interest off the money that I've made already would at least buy my groceries and keep my family comfortable. …

"That was the only financial goal that I had. … To just have my land and a house and a roof that doesn't leak and I place that I can grow a garden and raise a few cows and sheep and be alive and try to live my life the way that my grandparents lived their lives."

The blunt bottom line: "I despise this world, and I despise the way this world is headed."

Anthony's pivotal YouTube video has been viewed 160 million times, not counting the many online copies and commentaries. Thus, the singer-songwriter has heard audiences around the world shout the sobering "Rich Men North of Richmond" 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 / Livin' in the new world / With an old soul."

In the midst of the craziness, he sought out the acoustics in an old church in Savannah, Georgia, to record "Hymnal of a Troubled Man's Mind." This independently released album opened with Anthony reading from Ecclesiastes, chapter 5: "Whoever loves money never has enough. Whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income. This too is meaningless. Everyone comes naked from their mother's womb. And as everyone comes, so they depart."

Anthony offered a familiar "mix of blue-collar, Christian imagery," noted Melanie Davis, in an American Songwriter essay. "A native to Appalachia, where 'diseases of despair,' like drug overdose, suicide, and alcoholic liver disease are higher than anywhere else in the country, Anthony's voice rang true for a large sect of the working class. …

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Olympics debates rage on: Why did Dionysus invade The Lord's Supper tableau?

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Olympics debates rage on: Why did Dionysus invade The Lord's Supper tableau?

The Catholic bishops of France admired the "marvelous display of beauty and joy" in the 2024 Olympics opening rites, but also slammed the blending of Christian sacred art, Greek mythology and the sexual revolution.

"This ceremony unfortunately included scenes of mockery and derision of Christianity," said the bishops. "We are thinking of all the Christians on every continent who have been hurt by the outrageousness and provocation of certain scenes."

That was soon followed by an appeal to the International Olympic Committee from a global circle of cardinals and bishops protesting "a grotesque and blasphemous depiction of the Last Supper. … It is hard to understand how the faith of over 2 billion people can be so casually and intentionally blasphemed."

But the Vatican remained silent for more than a week, while online combat raged between clergy, entertainers, academics, diplomats and armies of social-media warriors. Finally, the Holy See released a muted statement that it was "saddened" by the "offence done to many Christians and believers of other religions. … In a prestigious event where the whole world comes together around common values, there should be no allusions that ridicule the religious convictions of many people."

These debates raged on and on because few combatants could agree on what took place, in part because the opening ceremonies were quickly removed from the official Olympics YouTube and NBC Universal accounts.

However, photographs showed 16 or more drag and transgender performers, with one child, posed in "vogueing" stances along one side of a table, in front of the Seine River and Eiffel Tower. The edgy drama also included, with brief nudity, couples and threesomes prancing on a stylized fashion runway.

Eventually, a silver food dish opened to reveal, instead of bread and wine, singer Philippe Katerine -- painted blue -- portraying Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and ecstasy. Pointing to his groin, he sang (translated from French): "Where to hide a revolver when you're completely naked?"

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Flashback to 2011: Journalists need to hear the 'music' of religion

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Most editors and reporters would panic, or call their lawyers, if news executives asked religious questions during job interviews.

Yet it's hard to probe the contents of a journalist's head without asking big questions. And it's hard to ask some of the ultimate questions -- questions about birth, life, suffering, pain and death -- without mentioning religion.

William Burleigh carefully explored some of this territory when he was running news teams, both large and small. His half-century career with The E.W. Scripps Co. began in 1951, when he was in high school in Evansville, Ind., and he retired several years ago after serving as president and chief executive officer.

"I always thought that it was interesting to talk to reporters and editors about their education," said Burleigh, who remains chairman of the Scripps Howard board. "How many people in our newsrooms have actually studied history and art and philosophy and even some theology? ...

"I have to admit -- quite frankly -- I always showed a partiality toward people with that kind of educational background. I didn't do that because I am a big religious guy. I did it because I wanted to know if we were dealing with well-rounded people who could relate to the big questions in life."

Burleigh won some battles. For example, a few editors decided to let a religion-beat specialist try writing a column for Scripps Howard News Service, and I've been at it ever since. This week marks the "On Religion" column's 20th anniversary, and I owe Burleigh, and other editors who backed religion coverage, a debt of gratitude.

However, it's crucial to know that Burleigh -- a traditional Catholic -- didn't push this issue because he wanted editors to hire more journalists who liked sitting in pews. No, he didn't want to see newspapers keep missing events and trends that affect millions of people and billions of dollars.

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Critics insist that star placekicker Harrison Butker's Catholic speech sailed way right

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Critics insist that star placekicker Harrison Butker's Catholic speech sailed way right

There was nothing unusual about the conservative Catholic leaders of Benedictine College inviting a conservative Catholic to deliver a conservative Catholic speech.

But the May 11 commencement ceremony was different, since the speaker was three-time Super Bowl champion Harrison Butker of the nearby Kansas City Chiefs.

The team's star placekicker stressed that "being Catholic alone doesn't cut it," while attacking many famous Catholics, including President Joe Biden for, among other choices, making the sign of the cross during a Florida abortion-rights rally. Butker spent most of his 20-minute address criticizing many American bishops, while also offering blunt defenses of Catholic teachings on sexuality.

But the words that ignited a media firestorm hit closer to home.

Butker asked the female graduates: "How many of you are … thinking about all the promotions and titles you're going to get in your career? Some of you may go on to lead successful careers in the world. But I would venture to guess that the majority of you are most excited about your marriage and the children you will bring into this world."

Butker stressed that his wife, Isabelle, is "a primary educator to our children. She is the one who ensures I never let football, or my business become a distraction from that of a husband and father. … It is through our marriage that, Lord willing, we will both attain salvation."

Pundits and comics claimed that Butker criticized working women -- while his mother, Elizabeth, is a medical physicist in the radiation oncology department at Atlanta's Emory University School of Medicine. In a 2020 Mother's Day tribute, he tweeted: "Growing up my mom was my biggest supporter, guiding me to be the man I needed to become."

Early this week, Change.org had gathered 221,866 signatures urging "Kansas City Chiefs management to dismiss Harrison Butker." The petition said the kicker's remarks "were sexist, homophobic, anti-trans, anti-abortion and racist," thus hindering "efforts towards equality, diversity and inclusion in society. It is unacceptable for such a public figure to use their platform to foster harm rather than unity."

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Attention all 'Rational Sheep' -- Hollywood is no longer the true church of the masses

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Attention all 'Rational Sheep' -- Hollywood is no longer the true church of the masses

As the creator of classics such as "It's a Wonderful Life" and "You Can't Take It with You," director Frank Capra knew how to touch the hearts and souls of moviegoers.

The self-described "Christmas Catholic" took that power seriously. "No saint, no pope, no general, no sultan, has ever had the power that a filmmaker has," he once said. This was the "power to talk to hundreds of millions of people for two hours in the dark."

The power of today's digital media is much more complex than that, said Barbara Nicolosi Harrington, a former Catholic nun turned screenwriter and Hollywood script doctor.

"Hollywood has been the church of the masses, but I don't think that's still true. At least, we cannot say that movie theaters are the sanctuaries they once were for most people, especially for the young," said Harrington, author of "Behind the Screen: Hollywood Insiders on Faith, Film, and Culture."

When she was young, she explained, mainstream entertainment "was everything. Hollywood created the images that told us what was cool and what it meant to be a success and to be loved."

Now, when she talks to young people, they have a completely different relationship with mass media. The voices and images of Hollywood are competing with legions of "influencers" who reach the masses through omnipresent smartphones.

"There are so many competing screens and so much of the content is truly asinine," she said. Young people accept that, but believe that, with their peers, they can decide what is true and what is false in that digital universe. When messages hit home, social-media mavens then connect users with creators, activists or networks linked to the content.

"Kids think they're in control," said Harrington, reached by telephone. "But how can you tell what is right and wrong if it's TikTok and its algorithms that decide what you see? ... You think that you get to decide what is right for you and what voices will guide you. But is that true these days?"

The big question is whether millions of parents, pastors, teachers and counselors realize how much the balance of power has shifted in mass-media and entertainment.

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The rise and fall of the AI 'Father Justin' is a technology parable for our time

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The rise and fall of the AI 'Father Justin' is a technology parable for our time

The penitent crafted the perfect sin to confess to a virtual priest: "Bless me father, for I have sinned. … I have had anger in my heart about the deployment of AI chatbots in inappropriate places."

"Father Justin," a 3D AI character created by the San Diego-based Catholic Answers network, offered biblical advice for wrestling with anger.

"God is merciful and loving, my child," the bot concluded. "For your penance, I ask you to pray the Our Father three times, reflecting on God's infinite mercy and love. And now, I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

Legions of cyberspace believers pounced. One tweeted this cry: "HAIEEEEEEE." Susannah Black Roberts of Plough Magazine noted: "Hey @catholiccom, your AI 'priest' is offering absolution. Might want to kill it with fire and never do anything like this again."

Online detectives found other flaws. The National Catholic Register noted the app struggled when turning voices into printed words, translating "Eucharist" as "caressed" or even "you, you, you," while "Communion" became "commute." The Pillar asked if it was possible to baptize "my baby with Gatorade in an emergency" and Father Justin affirmed that option.

"I say this with nothing but respect for you guys and your work, but ... this should've just been a plain search engine," tweeted Father Mike Palmer of the Congregation of Holy Cross. "Dressing it up as a soulless AI avatar of a priest does absolutely nothing except cause confusion and invite mockery of your otherwise excellent work."

Catholic Answers President Christopher Check quickly confessed that his team "received a good deal of helpful feedback." Thus, "Justin" lost his clerical collar.