On Religion

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No, seriously: Jeff Foxworthy is convinced that God has a sense of humor

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No, seriously: Jeff Foxworthy is convinced that God has a sense of humor

As a rule, Jeff Foxworthy never refuses autograph requests, but the redneck comedy legend hit a wall during a funeral-home visitation for someone in his extended family.

"When you go to a funeral home, a lot of times there's more than one visitation going on," said Foxworthy, reached by telephone. "Across the hall, there was another one … and it was a rowdy bunch. In the break area they had coolers with cans of regular Budweiser. …

"At some point in the evening, somebody over there recognized me and they started coming into our side and wanting to get a picture made. You know, 'Can I get my picture with you?' … And one turned into three and that turned into seven or eight."

Then a woman arrived with a felt-tip marker and made a familiar request: "Can I ask you a favor?' … Can you sign my brother's tie?'"

Seeking an escape door back to his family, Foxworthy said: "'Where's your brother?' And she said, 'He's in here, in the casket.' And that's the only time I have ever denied somebody an autograph. … But asking me to climb up on the casket and autograph the guy's tie?"

The truth in this sobering parable is that humor often surfaces during life's big transitions, even when they involve sacred beliefs and traditions. That's one reason Foxworthy has never written "You Might Be A Redneck Churchgoer If" jokes.

Yes, audiences would yowl with laughter, especially in zip codes defined by faith, family, food and fishing. But for some people, religion jokes would cut too close to the bone, said Foxworthy.

After four decades in comedy, he said that he reminds himself, that "everybody I'm going to look at tonight is going through some kind of a struggle. It might be financial, it might be physical, it may be emotional. … I'm like, 'Just be kind to people.' You know? Have grace. You don't know their story. And I don't think humor makes people's struggles go away. But I do think … if you're able to laugh and set that burden down for a little bit, it almost, like, recharges you to where you can pick it back up and go deal with it."

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Why the "He Gets Us" ads continue to trigger debates about doctrine

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Why the "He Gets Us" ads continue to trigger debates about doctrine

There is nothing unusual about a photograph of two men embracing at a gay Pride march, surrounded by rainbow flags, banners and New Orleans-style beads.

But one of the men in this image from the latest "He Gets Us" Super Bowl advertisement is wearing a John 3:16 hat, as in the Bible verse proclaiming: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life."

Many of the ad's photographs are easy to interpret, such as a man removing "GO BACK" graffiti from a home, a woman helping a weeping man in a grocery store, a firefighter hard at work and a young football player comforting a defeated opponent.

But the John 3:16 hat raised the theological stakes in the Pride photograph, noted Samuel D. James, an editor active in Christian publishing and founder of the Digital Liturgies website.

"It's obvious one of the goals of 'He Gets Us' is to cut across political and ideological divides," he wrote, at The Gospel Coalition website. "The writers know where the fault lines in American religious culture are – abortion, LGBT+, race, class and so on. And who could resist being moved by these images of human vulnerability and compassion? Who can push out of his or her mind the many moments in the Gospels where Jesus met such needs and taught his followers to do the same?"

The ads seek to create "curiosity about and sympathy for Jesus," he added, with a style targeting an "impressionistic, algorithmic generation." But there's logic behind the debates triggered by these advertisements. Their content is vague, since the "image-based, music-backed ads lack exposition or annotation; such things would only get in the way of the audience's emotional response."

The Pride scene resembles a photograph, in the 2024 Super Bowl ad, of a protester "washing the feet of a young woman outside of an abortion clinic," said James, reached by telephone. There's no way, for example, to know if the patient is entering or leaving the facility.

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Sideline sermons are evolving during this tense age in American life

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Sideline sermons are evolving during this tense age in American life

Moments after the Philadelphia Eagles won Super Bowl LIX, quarterback Jalen Hurts offered a familiar word of testimony: "God is good. He is greater than all of the highs and lows."

If those words sounded familiar, it's because Hurts – the MVP – shared them earlier on press day, along with several other moments in the spotlight: "My faith has always been a part of me. I've always wanted to root myself in that and keep (God) in the center of my life. … So, through the highs and the lows, He's greater than all of them, and that's something that I can always acknowledge."

Eagles head coach Nick Sirianni opened his post-victory remarks with: "God's blessed us very much. He gave us all the talents to be able to get here, so first and foremost, thanks to Him. … Thank God. Thank you, Jesus."

The coach and his quarterback were not alone, because Godtalk has become more common after championships than pledges to visit a theme park. But the language used during these testimonies has become more nuanced.

"What they said, and didn't say, was quite interesting," said Robert Benne of Roanoke College, who founded its Benne Center for Church and Society. Now 87, he has been writing about faith and sports for decades.

"Not one of them talked about God being on their side," he said, reached by telephone. "They avoided what many would consider evangelistic language, and no one suggested that they prayed to God to help them win. … They were careful not to suggest, in any way, that they had been manipulating the Deity."

This is significant since boastful behavior has become the norm in sports entertainment, Benne recently noted in a Roanoke Times column.

"This is the era of the expressive self," he wrote, under a "Why it's now hard to watch big time football" headline. "Dancing, prancing, running wildly, pounding one's chest with a primal scream. How wonderful, according to the legion of cameras that record every gaping mouth. … The expressive self quickly turns into the aggrandizing self."

Any fusion of proud, pushy behavior and fervent faith would, in "this highly divided country that we have right now," lead to cheers among some viewers and just as many jeers from others, said Benne. Even worse, many commentators immediately interpret statements of public faith as political declarations.

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How the Babylon Bee helped topple digital dominos in the media marketplace

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How the Babylon Bee helped topple digital dominos in the media marketplace

On March 15, 2022, Babylon Bee editors ran a blunt joke about a powerful American leader – proclaiming the assistant secretary in the Department of Health and Human Services as the website's "Man of the Year."

The joke caused controversy because Admiral Rachel L. Levine had, more than a decade earlier, transitioned to become a transgender woman and, two days before the Bee jab, was named one of the "Women of the Year" by USA Today.

At that point, the Twitter management cancelled the Babylon Bee's account, cutting a vital link between the Christian satire website and the online readers that were its lifeblood.

"Many people said trans people are already subject to so much ridicule, and posts like this just fan the flames against a minority group," noted Bari Weiss, editor of The Free Press, in a recent podcast with Babylon Bee CEO Seth Dillon. "How do you respond to that criticism?"

That's a "fair question," noted Dillon, but one built on the "concept that comedy should be something that only punches up at the power structure. That the oppressors can do no right, the oppressed can do no wrong. They're marginalized, and they need to be protected and insulated, and the powerful can be the subject of scorn and ridicule."

In this scenario, an evangelical humor website far from the entertainment-industry mainstream was the powerful "oppressor." Meanwhile, noted Dillon: "Admiral Rachel Levine is a transgender admiral in the Biden administration, a high-ranking government official. The narrative that's being imposed on the culture is … coming from the top down, imposed on people that really do in large numbers find it absurd and objectionable. So we were, in fact, punching up."

With the Bee locked in "Twitter jail," digital dominoes began falling – a chain reaction that would help shape in news and journalism, which would affect debates during a tense, complicated White House race.

On March 24, the Bee team heard from a reader – Elon Musk – who was paying close attention to "cancel culture" trends. As an omnipresent Twitter user, the world's richest tech entrepreneur was already getting messages from people urging him to buy the social-media platform.

Musk wanted to know why Bee tweets had vanished.

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Superstar Denzel Washington has officially claimed the freedom to preach

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Superstar Denzel Washington has officially claimed the freedom to preach

When describing his life, Denzel Washington often notes a mysterious encounter on March 27, 1975, offering it as a parable about his Christian faith and his acting career.

The young Washington was in his mother's Mount Vernon, New York, beauty parlor, after horrible grades forced a leave of absence from Fordham University. An elderly church woman, who many believed had unique spiritual gifts, looked him in the eye and asked for a piece of paper.

Scribbling the details, Ruth Green announced: "I have a prophecy. Boy, you are going to travel the world and speak to millions of people."

Sharing this story at Dillard University in New Orleans in 2015, Washington added pulpit friendly advice: "What she told me that day has stayed with me ever since. I've been protected. I've been directed. I've been corrected. I've kept God in my life."

The actor stressed these words: "Put. God. First.”

After a press screening of "The Book of Eli" in 2010, he added another wrinkle, pondering the prophecy's implications. At one point, Washington, a member of the giant West Angeles Church of God in Christ, wondered if he was supposed to have been ordained.

Washington said his pastor noted: "Well, aren't you talking to millions of people? Haven't you traveled the world?"

That question recently surfaced, once again, when the two-time Oscar winner received a minister's license at the Kelly Temple Church of God in Christ in Harlem, a congregation he attended as a child. During this December 21 baptism rite – broadcast online – Washington rededicated his life to God and moved one step from full ordination. As a licensed minister, he can preach, perform weddings and lead some religious services.

"We celebrate the addition of Minister Denzel Washington into the clergy … in a truly uplifting moment," Archbishop Christopher Bryant wrote on Facebook.

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Life lessons (along with some parables) in the classic comedy 'A Christmas Story'

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Life lessons (along with some parables) in the classic comedy 'A Christmas Story'

Humorist Jean Shepherd was a teen-ager when his father came home from work and began packing a suitcase.

"What are ya doin', Dad?", asked Shepherd.

Describing the scene to communication scholar Quentin Schultze, he said that his father replied: "I'm leaving. You'll understand when you get older."

Shepherd's father moved away and married a "trophy wife."

This wasn't the kind of dark, life-changing event that tends to inspire a crucial symbol and theme in a beloved Christmas movie, noted Schultze. But Shepherd wove parts of his own life story into his storytelling, including work that became "A Christmas Story."

Americans who watch this 1983 family comedy – about 40 million click into the 24-hour marathon on TBS and TNT, starting on Christmas Eve – know that it centers on a boy named Ralphie who is obsessed with his parents giving him a 200-shot Red Ryder air rifle BB gun.

But another iconic image is the leg-shaped lamp, wearing a fishnet stocking worthy of a bordello, that Ralphie's "Old Man" received as his "major award" after winning a quiz contest. What was that all about?

Schultze learned the answer when, for three years in the 1980s, he taught a college-level storytelling class with Shepherd, while saving notebooks full of insights from their time together.

"As Shepherd told me, the leg lamp became the Old Man's trophy wife, which he had to show off to the world. He was unable to carry on his 'affair' with discretion," wrote Schultze, in "You'll Shoot Your Eye Out! Life Lessons from the movie 'A Christmas Story.'" He is now professor emeritus at Calvin University in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

The quest for the Red Ryder rifle has a heartwarming final act, with a boy bonding with his volatile "Old Man," the father's only name in the script. And the leg lamp story also has a happy ending, even though it's clear that Ralphie's mother broke it on purpose.

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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. …