Science

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

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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.

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

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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.

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A lingering Theophany mystery: The 'holy water flowers' that refused to fade

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A lingering Theophany mystery: The 'holy water flowers' that refused to fade

After the Christmas season and before Lent, Orthodox priests have -- for centuries -- rushed to visit church-members' homes to bless them with prayers and splashes of holy water flung about with a foot-long brush or handfuls of basil.

Droplets of blessed water end up on beds and bookshelves, TVs and toys, potted plants and paintings, along with everything else.

"It's a chance to start over," said Father John Karcher of St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Portland, Oregon. "We clean out the cobwebs of sin. … Then we make mistakes and muck it all up again. But we do this every year because God doesn't give up on us."

These rites flow out of the Feast of Theophany, which many Orthodox churches in America celebrate on January 6, or on January 19th for those using the ancient Julian calendar year-round. In addition to house blessings and liturgies, Orthodox clergy bless bodies of water -- rivers, lakes and oceans. In some parts of the world this requires man-sized holes cut into ice.

The feast's central message, said Karcher, is that "when Christ was baptized, he went into the waters and the waters didn't cleanse him -- it was the other way around. He blessed the waters and through them all of creation. … It's a beautiful thing. God responds to our prayers that he sanctifies the waters -- again."

In one rite, priests pray that the blessed water will provide "a fountain of incorruption, a gift of sanctification, a loosing of sins, a healing of sicknesses, a destruction of demons" so that worshippers will experience "the cleansing of souls and bodies, for the healing of sufferings, for the sanctification of homes and for every useful purpose."

The mysterious nature of these rites hit home a decade ago when Karcher led St. Innocent Orthodox Church in the Bay Area in northern California.

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Why fairy stories still matter, in an age of secular myths and marvels

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Why fairy stories still matter, in an age of secular myths and marvels

Demons appear on movie screens all the time, but poet Richard Rohlin is convinced he has actually seen them at work when counseling young people whose search for meaning has driven them deep into experiments with sex, drugs and the occult.

"The stories that I can't tell would curl your toenails," he said, speaking at the Eighth Day Institute in Wichita, Kansas. "If you think that these spiritual realities are not still with us, you are deluding yourself. ... The magic is coming back into the world. Something is happening and it is not an unqualified good."

The young people he works with in Dallas are not interested in sermons and detailed descriptions of why their lives are broken. But they are open to fantasies, myths and tales -- ancient and modern -- about unseen, spiritual realities that interact with their lives.

Millions of Americans know where to find stories about angels, demons, warriors, seers, giants, demigods and heroic kings and queens. They head straight to movie theaters and cable television, where they find entire universes of content offering visions of fantastic worlds. The last place they would seek inspiration of this kind is in churches.

The irony is that some of these works draw inspiration from the fantasy classics celebrated in the ecumenical Eighth Day Institute's annual fall celebration of The Inklings, a mid-20th Century circle of Christian writers in Oxford, England, that included C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and others.

This year's lectures focused on Scottish writer George MacDonald, often called the "grandfather of the Inklings," who is best known for "Phantastes," "The Golden Key," "Lilith" and many other works. The festival included Celtic and folk musicians, along with workshops on topics such as "The Art of Making Mead" and "Publishing for the Moral Imagination."

The goal of MacDonald and The Inklings, noted Rohlin, was to reclaim an older vision of life in which physical realities corresponded to spiritual realities and nothing was considered purely material. The real divide was between "the seen and the unseen," not between the "spiritual and the material."

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Where is heaven? Ancient believers have answers for that modern Sam Harris question

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Where is heaven? Ancient believers have answers for that modern Sam Harris question

When cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin returned to earth in 1961, after the first manned spaceflight, Soviet leaders claimed he said: "I went up to space, but I didn't encounter God."

Venturing into similar territory, superstar atheist Sam Harris rocked cyberspace during a recent Triggernometry YouTube appearance in which he discussed Donald Trump, faith elements in "wokeness" and the flocks of Americans who insist on believing in heaven.

Political Twitter screamed when he said there was "a left-wing conspiracy to deny the presidency to Donald Trump. … Absolutely, but I think it was warranted."

But comedians Konstantin Kisin and Francis Foster pushed back, asking if Harris was justifying moral relativism. Perhaps today's truth wars, the Triggernometry team suggested, were linked to a famous G.K. Chesterton quip: "When men choose not to believe in God, they do not thereafter believe in nothing, they then become capable of believing in anything."

During the ensuing discussion, Harris offered another viral soundbite: "Where is heaven, exactly, given that we have multiple telescopes up there beaming back tens of billions of years' worth of information?" Yet millions of Americans still embrace the supernatural claims of an ancient faith, including that Jesus will return to "raise the living and the dead."

"You'd be surprised by the number of percent of sober, non-Bible-thumping people who would say 'yes' to that question," he said. "They might be Christian, they might be, listen, 'I love the Bible. It gives me a great moral framework. It gives my kids a great moral framework. This is the tradition I'm identified with. This is all super important to me' -- but that's kind of as far as it goes. Right? Like, I'm not going to make magical claims about flying saviors who are literally going to come down from … heaven."

While the Twitter masses raged, the French-Canadian iconographer and writer Jonathan Pageau recorded a video essay on his "The Symbolic World" channel about why materialists and religious believers keep debating the meaning of terms such as "heaven" and "earth."

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New York Gov. Kathy Hochul: 'God gave us the vaccine' and smart believers know that

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New York Gov. Kathy Hochul: 'God gave us the vaccine' and smart believers know that

In an age in which satire and news often overlap, it was hard to know what to make of this headline: "New York Atheists Claim Religious Exemption From Vaccine After Governor Claims That It's From God."

This was satire, care of the Babylon Bee website. But the barbed humor focused on real quotes from the governor of New York that raised eyebrows on the cultural left and right.

"We are not through this pandemic," said Gov. Kathy Hochul, at a New York City megachurch. "I prayed a lot to God during this time and you know what -- God did answer our prayers. He made the smartest men and women, the scientists, the doctors, the researchers -- he made them come up with a vaccine. That is from God to us and we must say, thank you, God. ...

"All of you, yes, I know you're vaccinated, you're the smart ones. But you know there's people out there who aren't listening to God. ... I need you to be my apostles. I need you to go out and talk about it and say, we owe this to each other. We love each other."

Clearly, the governor said, getting vaccinated was the best way to obey God in this crisis.

Writing at The Friendly Atheist website, Beth Stoneburner argued that this was not the kind of church-state sermonette that should trouble atheists and other secularists.

"Is it a speech that atheists will appreciate? Probably not," she noted. "But as far as a politician using the language of faith to reach an audience that desperately needs to get vaccinated -- but might not because other prominent Christians are feeding them lies -- it's arguably effective."

If this blast of God-talk from a Democrat "helps Christians get vaccinated when some of them might choose otherwise, then perhaps that outweighs any criticisms people may have of her speech," said Stoneburner.