On Religion

popular culture

, , , , ,

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

, , , , ,
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?"

, , , ,

Celtics coach Joe Mazzulla: Battles with ambition and pride, appeals for grace and faith

, , , ,
Celtics coach Joe Mazzulla: Battles with ambition and pride, appeals for grace and faith

It's rare to hear eight seconds of dead silence during an NBA Finals press conference.

Boston Celtics head coach Joe Mazzulla was asked if – because of the "plight" of Black head coaches – it was significant that both teams were led by Black men. Was this a source of "pride" for him?

The son of an Italian father and a Black mother, Mazzulla is an outspoken Catholic whose pre-game routine includes pacing through an empty arena, praying with a rosary made with wood from the court of the original Boston Garden.

Mazzulla's answer was blunt: "I wonder how many of those have been Christian coaches?"

While this response drew many cheers in social media, Los Angeles Lakers legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was not amused.

Mazzulla "decided to ignore a legitimate question about race that might have been illuminating and inspiring for others, and instead decided to virtue signal," the six-time NBA Most Valuable Player wrote on Substack. The answer was "strangely aggressive since Christians are not discriminated against but, as a group, are more likely to discriminate against others," Abdul-Jabbar added.

The reporter who asked the pivotal question went further, suggesting that the Celtics coach apparently didn't grasp that it's "possible to be both Black and Christian."

"This didn't feel like a denouncement of Mazzulla's Blackness, so to speak," wrote Vincent Goodwill of Yahoo Sports. "It wasn't quite the 'I'm not Black, I'm OJ' moment; it just leaves room for interpretation."

This wasn't the first time that Mazzulla has puzzled journalists. In 2022, he was asked if he met the "royal family," after Prince William and Princess Kate Middleton attended a game.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph? … I'm only familiar with one royal family," he quipped.

, , , , , ,

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

, , , , , ,
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."

, , , , , ,

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

, , , , , ,
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.

, ,

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."

, , , , ,

Canterbury Cathedral throws a flashy disco rite for chic modern pilgrims

, , , , ,
Canterbury Cathedral throws a flashy disco rite for chic modern pilgrims

The Gothic Revival sanctuary of the former Episcopal Church of the Holy Communion was a strange edifice to house a dance club, but that's what happened in the early 1980s with the infamous Limelight club in New York City.

Rocker Steve Taylor penned a snarky tribute, including this pounding chorus: "This disco used to be a cute cathedral / Where we only play the stuff you're wanting to hear … / This disco used to be a cute cathedral / But we got no room if you ain't gonna be chic."

Four decades later, this song surfaced during online chatter about the February 8-9 dance nights inside Canterbury Cathedral, the Church of England's most hallowed sanctuary.

Dubbed the "rave in the nave" by critics, revelers gulped drinks from the bar and sang along to hits streamed by DJs into rented headphones. One participant described dancing to "Horny" by Mousse T. – "I'm horny, horny, horny, horny, I'm horny, horny, horny, horny tonight" – not far from the stone tiles on which St. Thomas Becket was murdered in 1170.

"The decline of Western Christendom continues unabated," noted Taylor, via email. His song, with its Limelight callout, was a critique of modernized brand of faith that sacrifices its message to gain popular appeal. "I think that I referred to it as country club Christianity."

Outside Canterbury Cathedral, one protester told The Telegraph: "Thomas Becket is buried in the same location in this cathedral as our late Queen is buried in St George's Chapel. Would it be acceptable to have a rave in that place? Would anyone accept that? … This is going to make people take the church less seriously than they did before, rather than more seriously."

Canterbury's dean rejected the "rave in the nave" label and argued that the "90s-themed silent disco" would show proper respect for the cathedral's cultural and arts heritage.

, , , ,

Political (and religious) life inside the 'God Made Trump' video matrix

, , , ,
Political (and religious) life inside the 'God Made Trump' video matrix

With its digital homage to the late Paul Harvey's "So God Made a Farmer" soliloquy, the "God Made Trump" video drew roars of support at key Iowa rallies for Donald Trump.

"And on June 14, 1946, God looked down on his planned paradise and said, 'I need a caretaker,' so God gave us Trump," said the majestic voice. The former president was God's choice to "fix this country," "fight the Marxists" and, yes, "Make America Great Again."

The script added that Trump, a mainline Presbyterian with a tabloid-worthy personal life, would "follow the path and remain strong in faith and know the belief of God and country." He would "finish a hard week's work by attending church on Sunday. … So, God made Trump."

On a first take, this "eerily messianic" video seemed like satire, noted Guthrie Graves-Fitzsimmons, author of "Just Faith: Reclaiming Progressive Christianity." After all, Trump never joined a Washington, D.C., church and was rarely seen attending worship.

"What's missing from the video is some key theological context: God made everyone," he wrote, at MSNBC.com. "God made every political opponent, journalist, American who died in war, and former presidential aide whom Trump has disparaged. God made the Christian supporters of Trump he mocked behind their backs."

This furor was political catnip for the Dilley Meme Team, the creators of this social-media grenade, especially the blitz of retweets by furious Trump critics.

Self-help author Brenden Dilley stressed that "God Made Trump" was rally material for a logical reason: "Because President Trump absolutely loves the meme. He thinks it's powerful, he thinks it's a great message. … That was repeated to me three different times. He loves the meme. He thinks it's cool."

Responding to Fox News comments during a "Dilley Show" podcast, he added: "It's not satire. … It's just art. ... This is how a MAGA-patriot, voters, creators, artistic people who love President Trump, this is how they feel about him, and this is what they created for him. How is this complicated?"

, , , ,

'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.

, , , ,

Norman Lear: It's impossible to talk about American life without including faith

, , , ,
Norman Lear: It's impossible to talk about American life without including faith

Early in the premier of Norman Lear's sit-com "Sunday Dinner," the beautiful environmentalist T.T. Fagori raised her eyes to heaven and, with a sigh, entered a spiritual minefield.

"Chief?", she asked God. "You got a minute?"

In addition to praying out loud in prime time, this character offered a theological reverie at dinner while meeting the family of her fiancé, a 56-year-old widower nearly three decades her elder. The problem: His granddaughter heard Fagori mention God during a science lecture.

"You see, I talk about extending 'love thy neighbor' to include animals, plants, stuff like that. I say that the natural world is the largest sacred community to which we all belong," Fagori explained. "I talk about cosmic piety because the same atoms that form the galaxies are in all of us and it's the universe that carries the deep mysteries of our existence within itself.

"You see how all that sounds pretty spiritual. … So, when the kids hear me say these things, some of them think they hear the word 'God,' but they don't. I don't actually mention it. Interesting, huh?"

This 1991 comedy flopped, but it was an important statement from Lear, whose December 5 death at 101 years of age closed his career as lightning rod in popular culture and politics.

For decades, Lear described himself as a cultural Jew who didn't practice any traditional form of faith. He also founded People for the American Way, an old-school liberal advocacy group on church-state issues. But this television icon became more and more intrigued with religious faith, both as a force in American life and as a topic ignored by Hollywood.

During "Sunday Dinner" press events, Lear argued that America was caught in "a deep spiritual malaise, and nobody is addressing it. The Religious Right did for a period and still continues to. But mainline churches don't do that good a job of it. And the media don't deal with it at all."