Bathsheba at the Beach

JEKYLL ISLAND, Ga. – Every summer, Presbyterians, Methodists, Episcopalians and others flirt with making historic changes in their doctrines on sex.

But the debates that matter the most aren't held in convention halls and ecclesiastical offices. They take place when youth groups pack into church vans and travel to conferences and camps that function as unofficial sex education programs for thousands.

Each summer, counselor Jeannie Gregory faces rooms full of young women here at the Fun In The Son conference, helping them wrestle with sin, salvation, self esteem and sex. This week, she began her seminar with a parable she could have called "Bathsheba at the Beach."

"They always ask the same kinds of questions," she said. "They want to know what I think about America, these days, and why things seem so messed up. ... Then the questions get pretty practical – like how much, or how little, should they wear at the beach."

So Gregory read a blunt story about King David. The Bible reports that, during an evening walk on his roof, he saw "a woman bathing; and the woman was very beautiful. And David sent and inquired about the woman. And one said, `Is this not Bathsheba ... the wife of Uriah the Hittite?' So David sent messengers and took her ... and he lay with her."

This story of adultery includes a pregnancy and two deaths. It's easy blame David, but Bathsheba made some bad choices, too.

"Many of these girls don't like to hear about that," said Gregory. "They don't like to hear that there are all kinds of choices that can lead to being pregnant and abandoned. ... Too often, we don't want to be responsible for our choices. Nothing is ever our fault."

When told that it might be wise to be more modest, the girls laugh. That's not what they see in thousands of media images or hear at school or the mall.

"All I can say is, `OK, so you put on that bikini and you bounce out there, today," said Gregory. "Now, what do YOU think that says and is that what the GUYS think it's says? ... They know where they're leading the guys. The question is, do the girls really want to go there?"

People still ask these kinds of questions at Fun In The Son, one of a cluster of national conferences run by Presbyterians For Renewal. More than 800 attended this week's sessions, which have been held on this island for two decades. The week includes Bible studies, prayer time and sessions on subjects such as dating, college and coping with parents. Worship services mix rock music, low-key preaching and multi-media humor based on TV and movies – entertaining evangelism. The leaders know these teens were baptized in church as infants, but have been immersed in media ever since. And then there's the free time.

"Fun In The Son raises some good issues about faith and Jesus Christ, but mainly it's a four-day hormone rush," said one girl, watching the parade to the beach. A bronzed guy loitering in the deep end added: "What's this all about? It's about looking pretty at the pool. Some people really get into that."

Youth pastors know this tension exists. They also know church kids have been touched by divorce, the hidden sins of parents and head-spinning church debates about sexual morality. Many of those who tote study Bibles at Fun In The Son also carry secret burdens. Polls in many denominations have yielded sobering results about premarital sex, abuse, abortion and broken hearts.

Yet most churches seek safety in silence.

"We're so concerned that people may think we're fanatics or something," said Gregory. "Many pastors and youth pastors are scared to talk about these kinds of issues because they're afraid people may leave the church. .... Well, we may have to cause some guilt. We may have to offend some parents. But how many will we save? How many kids will we prevent from making terrible mistakes? How much pain will we prevent? How many marriages will we save?"

Snakes, Miracles and Biblical Authority

Church historian Bill Leonard never expected to become friends with the late Brother Arnold Saylor, let alone grow to appreciate his theological insights.

Leonard is a scholar. Saylor was an illiterate country preacher who – until he died of old age in 1991 – would take rattlesnakes with him into the pulpit. Both men were surprised to learn that they wrestled with similar mysteries.

"Serpent handlers may be very, very weird, but they're not crazy," said Leonard, who was recently named dean of the new divinity school at Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, N.C. "What people like Arnold Saylor can teach us is that we need to take second or third looks at some really important issues about the Bible and religious experience."

Millions of Americans say the Bible contains no errors of any kind. "Amen," say the snake handlers. Others complain that too many people view the Bible through the lens of safe, middle-class conformity and miss its radical message. Snake handlers agree.

Millions of Americans say that miracles happen, especially when believers have been "anointed" by God's Holy Spirit. "Preach on," say snake handlers. Polls show that millions of spiritual seekers yearn for ecstatic, world-spinning experiences of divine revelation. "Been there, done that," say snake handlers.

The bottom line: Snake handlers say they have biblical reasons for engaging in rites that bring them closer to God. They wonder why others settle for less riveting forms of faith, said Leonard, during a lecture series on Appalachian religion.

"What if every time you went to church you knew it could kill you? That would pick up the old Sunday service a bit, wouldn't it?", he said. "For these folks, taking up serpents is a kind of sacrament that helps them face life-and-death issues. But if this sacrament brings life, it also can bring death. ... It becomes the ultimate religious ritual, the ultimate religious experience."

The practice of handling snakes in worship began in 1909, when a Baptist named George Hensley joined a Pentecostal fellowship near Cleveland, Tenn. The result was a fiery revivalism that combined a rock-ribbed view of the Bible with a Pentecostal emphasis on signs and wonders. Hensley died of a snake bite in 1955.

Writers have always been fascinated by snake handlers despite the fact that, at any point in time, only 2,000 or so people have practiced these rites and as few as 75 worshippers have died. Some of the tackier media coverage attempts to use snake handlers as symbols of the South or of fundamentalist Protestants, in general. Others try to find complex psychological explanations for why these people do what they do.

Snake handlers themselves merely quote the end of the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus is recorded as telling his disciples: "And these signs shall follow them that believe; in my name they shall cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover."

True believers note that the verse says believers "shall" take up serpents – not "may."

"This becomes an ultimate test for the total truthfulness of the Word of God, a kind of slippery slope," said Leonard. "If handling serpents isn't true ... then none of the Bible is true. It's right there in the book, so they believe it. They can't understand why other people don't believe it."

Meanwhile, churches battles rage on. Many preach that miracles continue to happen. Others disagree. Some interpret every verse of the Bible literally, both as science and history. Others insist that biblical injunctions about peace and justice are "divinely inspired," while passages about sexual morality are out of date.

"What the serpent handlers keep saying to us – whether we want to listen or not – is that we all tend to emphasize the parts of the Bible that make us feel comfortable," said Leonard. "We try to make it a tame book. Whatever the serpent handlers teach us, they can teach us that the Bible cannot be domesticated."

The Human Face of Religious Persecution

So far, Robert Hussein has lost his wife, children and fortune and, right now, his only safe home is on the Internet.

The trouble began when he lost his Muslim faith and announced his conversion to Christianity. The prominent businessman – he was worth $4 million before the controversy – has lived in hiding since a religious court's May 29 ruling that he is an apostate.

Kuwait allows churches for foreigners and Arab Christians. However, Hussein is the region's first known Muslim to openly convert. His case is especially symbolic since Western leaders said one goal of the Persian Gulf War was to reinforce Kuwait's status as a relatively progressive Islamic regime. Still, tensions remain between civil and religious laws.

"They have taken everything that I have," said Hussein, in an interview posted at a World Wide Web site backing his cause. "Christians in the Middle East have been suffering. ... Enough is enough. In Algeria they have been killed. In Egypt and Saudi Arabia they have been beheaded ... and nobody is talking about them."

The Web site (www.domini.org/hussein/home.htm) is sponsored by a British religious coalition and contains government documents and media reports, as well as links allowing readers to fax Kuwaiti officials or to contact Hussein's protectors. The Islamic Court of Appeals will review his case on Sept. 15.

The May verdict noted that Kuwait's constitution guarantees religious freedom, but this "does not mean a Muslim should be allowed to convert from his religion to another." It also said an apostate "who is born of two Muslim parents ... must be killed. The Iman should kill him without a chance to repent."

Judge Jaafar al-Mazidi told Reuters that some might interpret the ruling as permission to kill the convert. This would, however, be considered murder under Kuwaiti civil law.

But to say Hussein will be protected by civil law ignores the pivotal question: Should those who commit crimes against Islamic orthodoxy be tried in civil or religious courts? Or, as Hussein asked a judge: "Your honor, how can a Sunni Muslim sue a Protestant Christian before a Shiite court?" The answer will affect moderate Muslims as well as members of other faiths.

"Obviously, it's hard to say where religion ends and civil authority begins in Kuwait," said Jeff Taylor, of the Compass Direct religion news agency.

Meanwhile, both the White House and Bob Dole campaign officials have rejected calls to address religious persecution issues. Why? "Oil is important and everybody knows it," said Taylor. "That can make it hard to focus on other issues – such as religious freedom."

A U.S. State Department paper responding to the May verdict echoed Kuwait's view that its constitution protects religious freedom and that Hussein is in no danger. The statement also noted that, as an apostate, Hussein "loses his custody rights to his children and inheritance rights to his father's estate. ... These are the only ramifications of the court's decision."

This statement infuriated human rights activists because it seemed to assume such measures were fair punishment for the mere act of converting to another faith, said Nina Shea, director of Freedom House's work on religious freedom. Also, U.S. officials have downplayed calls – by clerics and some in Kuwait's parliament – for Hussein's death. Many in the Islamic world continue to believe that apostasy is a crime worthy of the death penalty.

"We simply don't know how much danger Hussein is in, right now. But he's keeping on the move and trying to keep his actions unpredictable," said Shea.

Meanwhile, reports continue about China's crackdown on house churches, ongoing persecution in North Korea, the demolition of evangelical churches in Cuba and Christians sold into slavery in Sudan. In Kuwait, many Christian converts live double lives – waiting to see what happens next.

"What the Robert Hussein case does is put a face on an otherwise abstract problem," said Shea. "It's so easy for people to hear all of the terrible statistics from around the world and then slip in compassion fatigue. Sometimes, it's easier for people to identify with a single human face."

Hello World, Welcome to the Bible Belt

Somewhere, there's a big book that determines how networks televise the Olympics.

In addition to the games, they are instructed to offer hours of pageantry, inspiring parables about athletes and sermons about what it all means. The final ingredient: Mini-documentaries that dissect whatever foreign, mysterious land is hosting the Olympics.

So hello world, welcome to the Bible Belt.

While some may question whether Atlanta remains in "the South," there's no doubt TV crews can find the real thing in Birmingham, Ala., Savannah, Ga., and the Tennessee and North Carolina mountain towns near the Ocoee River.

"Some parts of the South are definitely further south than others," said the Rev. Harold Bales, director of ministries for United Methodists in Western North Carolina. He also produces – whenever he feels like it – a newsletter called "The Southern- Fried Preacher." As a whole, he said, "the South remains a kind of strange country that some folks just can't figure out."

So God only knows what'll happen when 20,000-plus media professionals flock to the 17-day summer games, which should draw about 1.5 million people.

"You have to ask: What's different about the South, these days? What does it mean to be `Southern'? The problem is that I'm not even sure many Southerners have a rock-solid answer for questions like that, anymore," said Bales.

Bales said he keeps returning to three subjects – food, family and faith. In Southern lingo, those are his three points (alliteration helps) and, yes, he has a poem. If you don't grasp the symbolism of three points and a poem, then you didn't grow up in a Southern pew.

Links between food and faith are fundamental. For many Southerners, church suppers remain weekly rituals and flocks may split while defining terms such as "barbecue" and "Brunswick stew."

In a poetic fit, Bales once composed a hymn to a beloved vegetable, while alluding to Southern populism. "Thou much-maligned by foolish folk, the suave, the chic, the mod," he wrote. "Remember, thou art nobler yet than they, dear humble pod! ... In skillet and in stewpot now, where knowing cooks all put thee, exult thou soul-food; take a bow. I love thee grand ole okree!"

But times change, even in Southern homes. Much has been written about the "new South" and the region's relatively recent transition from a agrarian economy into the age of supermalls. The result: Sweeping changes in the lives of children, parents and grandparents. Still, Southerners remain a few generations closer to older family patterns than many other Americans and, thus, are quick to defend the ties that bind.

"It wasn't fashionable, awhile back, to talk much about traditional families and loving your kinfolks," said Bales. "People said that kind of language excludes some people or just isn't realistic, today. Well, there aren't many people in the South who would agree with those kinds of complaints. The family never went out of style, down here, especially in Southern churches."

But Southerners know that family life has dark and light sides. The same is true of Southern faith, which Bales admitted can be infested with "creepy crawly things," such as racism, sexism, superstition and fear of religious minorities. Also, a lingering regional inferiority complex often causes a shrill defensiveness. Few Southern folks will be shocked if, amid headlines about church burnings, folks from the East and West coasts focus many Olympic reports on this dark side.

But the truth is more complex than that, said Bales. For example, the South contains as many or more truly interracial congregations as any other American region. Another example: The Southern tendency to dwell on issue of sin and evil also can make it easier to move people with appeals to repentance and justice.

"For sophisticated people, the power that religion has down here may not always be as logical as they'd like it to be," said Bales. "But you have to understand the appeal of this kind of complex, sometimes paradoxical faith, or you just can't understand the South."

Southern Baptists, Disney and Media Reality

For the next 12 months, the Rev. Richard Land will try to convince Southern Baptists to reconsider the ties that bind their homes to the Walt Disney Co.

Meanwhile, the leader of the Southern Baptist Convention's Christian Life Commission also will watch for signs that Disney executives are willing to discuss the threat of a boycott by America's largest non-Catholic flock.

It's hard to say which task will be more difficult. Most church leaders don't take entertainment seriously and most media leaders don't take churches seriously. However, media leaders know that millions of churchgoers shell out billions of dollars for their products and use them as video babysitters – just like everyone else.

"We know we've done pitifully little to help our people deal with the media age," said Land, whose Nashville-based agency is best known for its political activism. "We haven't done enough to help them think seriously about the role that TV and movies and VCRs and everything else play in their lives. We will – believe me, with this Disney situation we will – step up our efforts."

"The Disney situation" refers to the media storm after a June 12 Southern Baptist Convention resolution accusing Mickey Mouse and company of various moral sins. It encouraged "Southern Baptists to give serious and prayerful reconsideration to their ... support of Disney products and to boycott The Disney Company and theme parks if they continue this anti-Christian and anti-family trend."

The vote protested a variety of Disney actions, such as granting insurance benefits to partners of homosexual employees, hosting homosexual events at theme parks, the publication of books for homosexual children and the hiring of a convicted child molester to direct the movie "Powder."

Land stressed that the convention resolution did not establish a boycott, but asked his agency to monitor Disney's responses – to see if a boycott is needed.

The official Disney response stated: "We find it curious that a group that claims to espouse family values would vote to boycott the world's largest producer of wholesome family entertainment. We question any group that demands that we deprive people of health benefits and we know of no tourist destination in the world that denies admission to people as the Baptists are insisting we do."

Disney chairman Michael Eisner was more blunt, telling the Los Angeles Daily News: "We think they're a very small group of the Southern Baptists that took a very extreme position, which we think is foolish." The company's only other known response was a June 13 appeal for support, sent to gay and lesbian Internet sites.

"I would have to say," said Land, "that if Disney's leaders continue to give us the back of their hand ... then I think you'll see us vote next June to this turn into a real boycott."

So the clock is ticking. Southern Baptist leaders have a year to use their own educational publications and media to reach 15.6 million members in nearly 39,000 churches. The goal: to make a case that changes at Disney demand a response that will affect everyday life at the level of wallets, TV remotes and family-room shelves lined with video cassettes. Land said he already has met with leaders at the SBC's powerful Sunday School Board, one of America's largest religious publishers.

But talking about a boycott affects more than Disneyworld and "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." Disney's kingdom now includes everything from "Live with Regis and Kathie Lee" and "Nightline" to "Home Improvement" and "Monday Night Football." Also, gay-rights activists note that dozens of media giants, including all the major studios, have taken steps similar to those at Disney.

Land knows many will continue to ask: Why pick a symbolic fight with Disney?

"Disney has asked to be judged by a different standard," he said. "For years, they've told parents that their company will be family friendly. ... It's going to be hard for them to back the gay-rights cause and then turn around and tell traditional families and church groups that things haven't changed out at the Magic Kingdom."