Hollywood doubts and the devil

NEW YORK – When it comes to real-life exorcisms, movie director Scott Derrickson has read the transcripts and studied stacks of tapes.

He didn't see heads spin 360 degrees or volcanoes of pea-soup vomit. He was, in the end, convinced that demons are real. The results went into "The Exorcism of Emily Rose," a chilling movie that Derrickson hopes will make believers think twice about what they believe and doubters have doubts about their doubts.

"The research phase was horrible," he said, during press events preceding the Sept. 9 release. "I am glad that I know so much about it. That's good knowledge to have. As a writer, it certainly is. I also feel that for me, as a Christian, it is good to have that knowledge. But I will never do that again."

The movie was inspired by the story of Anneliese Michel, a German college student and devout Catholic who died during exorcism rites in 1976. Doctors said her seizures and visions were caused by epilepsy. Her family was convinced otherwise and their bishop agreed to allow a series of exorcism rites.

The ordeal eventually took her life. State officials prosecuted the parents and their priests for criminal negligence, leading to a trial that divided skeptics and believers – then and now.

Derrickson and co-writer Paul Harris Boardman moved this story to the American heartland, changing scores of details. The result wraps a horror movie inside a courtroom drama, with Emily's story told in flashbacks. The big question: Is this a story of fatal abuse caused by superstition or an inspiring account of a battle with evil incarnate?

After weeks or terror, Emily writes a letter in which she describes a heavenly vision. In it, the Virgin Mary tells her that she can die peacefully or struggle on, enduring more pain but proving that demonic possession is real. On the witness stand, the family's priest reads this letter and emphasizes this passage: "People say that God is dead. But how can they think that if I show them the devil?"

The movie is light on special effects and heavy on scenes that blur – but do not erase – the lines between faith and science, the natural and the supernatural. "The Exorcism of Emily Rose" is not a film for moviegoers who avoid the sound of creaky wooden floor planks, the scratch of fingernails on plaster walls, the howling of hellish voices in ancient tongues or the crunch of insects between human teeth. Is this insanity or spiritual warfare?

The timing was good for a movie built on spiritual questions, admitted Derrickson. A studio executive read the script and gave it a green light days after the release of Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ."

The key, said actress Laura Linney, is that the movie doesn't tell "people what to think or to believe." Instead, it shows how people with different beliefs view mysterious events in different ways. The cast and crew included people with a variety of religious beliefs, as well.

Linney plays a doubter who defends the priest. The prosecutor is portrayed as a progressive Christian, a Bible-reading modernist who is repulsed by this encounter with what he considers an ancient, irrational and dangerous form of faith. Similar conflicts are dividing many religious groups today.

The goal, said Linney, was to open up "one of the big mysteries: Where does evil come from? Is it stuff in our brains or is it something outside of ourselves? Some people have very strong opinions about it, one way or the other." Hopefully, this film "will cause both sides to re-evaluate and to listen to the other side," she said.

In the end, Derrickson said he hopes moviegoers will dare to ask tough questions about good and evil, God and Satan.

"Right now, there is plenty of amorphous belief out there about God," he said. "Lots of people are saying, 'God is within us. God is a force. God is everything. God is everywhere.' ... They don't really believe in a God who makes demands, who judges, does things that make us uncomfortable. They're vague about evil, too.

"What we tried to do was make an entertaining movie that scared people. But I also wanted people to stop and think about all of that."

Democrats trying to see red

Political strategist James Carville said it, candidate Bill Clinton believed it and loyal Democrats have chanted this mantra ever since.

And all the people said: "It's the economy, stupid."

But what if an elite team of Democrats ventured outside the Beltway to talk to rural and red-zone voters in Arkansas, Wisconsin, Colorado and Kentucky and learned that the economic bottom line was no longer the political bottom line?

Focus-group researchers from the Democracy Corp in Washington, D.C., found that voters in Middle America are worried about Iraq and they are mad about rising health costs. That's good for Democrats. Many of them fiercely oppose abortion on demand and gay marriage. That's good news for Republicans. But the researchers also mapped a political fault line that cuts into the soul of Middle America.

"Regardless of voters' attitudes on the role of religion in public life or their position on touchstone issues such as abortion and gay marriage or even their personal religious faith, they all see Republicans as a party with a clear and consistent position on cultural issues and an abiding respect for the importance of faith and traditional social norms," said the researchers, in sobering document released earlier this month.

"Democrats' lack of a consistent stance on cultural issues leaves a vacuum that is clearly being filled by voices on the right. Most referred to Democrats as 'liberal' on issues of morality, but some even go so far as to label them 'immoral,' 'morally bankrupt,' or even 'anti-religious.' "

This kind of verbiage is old hat among GOP conservatives. But it's stunning to see this language in a report produced by a trinity of Democratic campaign strategists like Stanley Greenberg, Robert Shrum and, lo and behold, Carville.

The new bottom line: "It's the values, stupid."

Democrats are getting used to hearing about a "pew gap" between the political parties. This has caused tension between moderates and liberals as Democrats focus on defending abortion rights and working with gay-marriage strategists. Party leaders must have been thinking about the "pew gap" when they rejected Naral Pro-Choice America's blistering media campaign that said U.S. Supreme Court nominee John G. Roberts Jr. – a traditional Roman Catholic – had winked at "violence against other Americans."

Politicos on both sides can quote the numbers and then bicker over what they mean. Everyone knows that 22 percent of the 2004 voters said they yearned for "moral values," with evangelical Protestants surging to George W. Bush. The president won 52 percent of the Catholic vote and nearly 60 percent of the total Protestant vote. Bush won a two-thirds majority among Orthodox Jews. Among Hispanics and African-Americans, the most active churchgoers began drifting to the GOP.

Looking back, Voter News Service found that 14 percent of the voters in 2000 said they attended worship services more than once a week and 14 percent said they never went at all. Among the devout, Bush won by 27 percent and, among those who avoid pews, Democrat Al Gore won by 29 percent.

According to the Democracy Corp report, Democrats are making progress with highly educated, upper-income Americans. But they have lost a key element of the old Democratic coalition – voters in rural areas and blue-collar neighborhoods, especially in Middle America. The researchers were mystified that these voters continue to act "contrary to their own economic self-interest."

Up is down. In is out. Many upper-crust Americans are also voting contrary to their own economic self-interest and backing Democrats, even though this may mean more taxes and business regulations. Why? They support the Democratic Party's stance on social issues such as abortion, gay rights and the role of religion in public life.

These moral issues are steering heartland voters, serving "as a proxy" for other concerns, according to the Democracy Corp report.

"With most voters expressing little understanding of the differences between Democrats and Republicans or the relative merits of their positions on economic policy, health care, retirement security, and other issues, they felt it safe to assume that if a candidate was 'right' on cultural issues – i.e. opposed to abortion, but most importantly opposed to gay marriage and vocal about defending the role of faith and traditional Judeo-Christian values in public life – that candidate would naturally also come closest to their views."

Stalking the pro-life feminists

Few journalists paid attention when two teen-aged mothers from Grant County, Ky., won their legal fight to enter the National Honor Society.

Somer Chipman and Chasity Glass were barred from the 1998 induction ceremony for one simple reason – both were pregnant. The American Civil Liberties Union said this was illegal discrimination.

Feminists for Life agreed and backed the ACLU case. Executive director Serrin Foster told the court: "If Ms. Chipman and Ms. Glass had had abortions, their sexual activity would not have become known to school officials. Actions such as those of the Grant County School District thus send a message that a decision to carry a pregnancy to term will be punished."

This court affidavit was quietly handled by the group's legal counsel – Jane Sullivan Roberts.

Little ink was spilled.

That was then. This is now.

"We've had our share of media attention, but I've never seen anything like what is happening in the mainstream press right now," said Foster, referring to the storm caused by this link between Feminists for Life and the wife of Supreme Court nominee John Roberts Jr. "Maybe the time is ripe. It's been three decades since Roe and it seems that some people are beginning to realize that abortion isn't solving all the problems it was supposed to solve."

Then again, it is also possible that journalists cannot resist stories involving (a) abortion, (b) the Supreme Court, (c) feminism, (d) Catholicism or (e) "all of the above." The twist in the Roberts case is that Feminists for Life is a nonsectarian group and is often viewed as the odd secular sister at faith-based rallies against abortion.

Over and over, Foster has explained that this 33-year-old organization is as committed to the welfare of women as it is to defending the unborn. This is a hard sell in America's balkanized public square, where everything is starkly divided into blue vs. red, "pro-choice" vs. "pro-life," Democrats vs. Republicans, Anthony Kennedy Catholics vs. Antonin Scalia Catholics.

Foster and her colleagues winced when journalists pinned a "committed anti-abortion activist" label on Roberts, and by proxy her husband, because of her volunteer work with Feminists for Life. But Foster was surprised that some scribes kept listening.

The New York Times did quote the group's mission statement: "Abortion is a reflection that our society has failed to meet the needs of women. Women deserve better than abortion." Foster went further, confirming that "reversing Roe v. Wade ... is a goal," but also telling the Times that this action is "not enough."

This is precisely the two-pronged message what progressives who are opposed to abortion have been trying to communicate for decades, said theologian Ronald J. Sider, president of Evangelicals for Social Action. Hopefully, the upcoming confirmation hearings for John Roberts can focus on both sides of this delicate equation.

"What this all illustrates is the fact there are many Christians – evangelicals and Catholics alike – who are strong defenders of human life, yet are in no way right-wingers on many other issues," said Sider, who two decades ago wrote a manifesto entitled "Completely Pro-Life: Building a Consistent Stance on Abortion, the Family, Nuclear Weapons, the Poor."

"I suspect," he added, "that a majority of the American people want to find a way – somehow – to respect and protect unborn children while respecting and protecting the rights of women. Can we find the will to do both?"

Foster has felt that tension and, as a result, has started referring to herself as a "Demorepublicat." Then there is the tension caused by those who assume that her fight against abortion is built on religious dogma alone, rather than a heritage of early feminist opposition to "child murder" and "foeticide."

More than once, Foster has described her beliefs and heard journalists say, "That sounds Catholic to me." Issues linked to the sanctity of life are too complex for this old framework, she said. It will be hard to fit groups such as "Wiccans for Life" and "Gays and Lesbians for Life" into the old stereotypes.

"We can pledge to support every mother and to welcome every child," she said. "We don't have to be at war with our own bodies and our own children. We don't have to settle for that. We can change the status quo."

Peter Jennings – news seeker

The journalists who met at Columbia University on Oct. 5, 1993, knew we were in for a challenging and confusing day.

We had, after all, come to New York to discuss "Religion and the News." A veteran CBS producer said this was a tough topic, since most broadcasters don't consider religion newsworthy unless it veers into "party politics, pageantry or pedophilia."

Freedom Forum researchers offered sobering statistics showing that 58 percent of liberal Protestant leaders affirmed the statement "most religion coverage is biased against ministers and organized religion." About 70 percent of Catholic priests agreed, along with – no surprise – 91 percent of evangelical clergy. The report concluded that many journalists are "tone deaf" to the music of faith.

Peter Jennings sat in the audience, scribbling in one of his private notebooks. He was gathering intellectual ammunition for his struggles to increase religion coverage at "ABC World News Tonight." He remained concerned about this issue throughout the final decade of his life and work.

The anchorman tried to blend in, but a circle formed around him during a break. It was easy to explain why he was there, he said. There is a chasm of faith between most journalists and the people they cover day after day. Six months later, I called him and asked to continue to conversation.

Anyone who has watched television, said Jennings, has seen camera crews descend after disasters. Inevitably, a reporter confronts a survivor and asks: "How did you get through this terrible experience?" As often as not, a survivor replies: "I don't know. I just prayed. Without God's help, I don't think I could have made it."

What follows, explained Jennings, is an awkward silence. "Then reporters ask another question that, even if they don't come right out and say it, goes something like this: 'Now that's very nice. But what REALLY got you through this?' "

For most viewers, he said, that tense pause symbolizes the gap between journalists and, statistically speaking, most Americans. This is not a gap that is in the interest of journalists who worry – with good cause – about the future of the news.

Jennings grew up as an altar boy in Canada. He knew the rites and the rules, learning that most Anglicans – clergy and laity – agreed to disagree about doctrine. It was OK, Jennings told Beliefnet.com, to say, "I'm not sure. I believe, but I'm not quite so sure about the resurrection."

Over time, his globetrotting career turned him into what church researchers would call "a seeker" – even though Jennings disliked that trendy word. He declined to answer when asked: "Have you ever experienced anything that you believed was miraculous?"

To hear him tell it, a funny thing happened to Jennings the journalist. The more he wrestled with his faith, the more he discovered he was interested in how faith shaped the lives of others. He began seeing religious ghosts in news events, first in the Middle East and then in middle America.

Journalists strive to report the facts, he said. But it's a fact that millions of people say that faith plays a pivotal role in their actions and decisions. This affects the news. Can journalists ignore this? During a 1995 speech at Harvard Divinity School, Jennings quoted historian Garry Wills making this point.

"It is careless," Jennings read aloud, "to keep misplacing such a large body of people. ? Religion does not shift or waver. The attention of its observers does. Public notice, like a restless spotlight, returns at intervals to believers' goings on, finds them still going on, and with expressions of astonishment or dread, declares that religion is undergoing some boom or revival."

The key, Jennings said in interview after interview, is that journalists need to understand the facts about faith in order to do a better job covering the news.

"Don't be confused at all that somehow my interest in religion, faith and spirituality is somehow driven by any sense of faith or spirituality of my own. It is a fabulous story. It intersects with people's lives in ways that other people in newsrooms are not as lucky as I am to understand," he told Beliefnet.

"This is a good and irresistible story. ... My God, what else are we looking for in life? It is relevant."

Antioch exits National Council of Churches

Summer is the season for church conventions that talk about hot issues.

Last week's 47th convention of the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America passed a resolution that addressed both sexuality and the Iraqi war. But this time the lofty words led to an historic change.

The assembly voted to oppose "divisive and dangerous" positions taken by "left-wing" and "right-wing" groups. To be specific, it rejected "support for same-sex marriage, support for abortion, support for ordination of women to Holy Orders, support for the concept of war that is 'pre-emptive' or 'justifiable' and the labeling of other faiths and their leaders with hateful terminology."

The archdiocese – a blend of Arab-Americans and many converts – vowed to avoid groups that "promulgate these extreme positions" and renewed its commitment to seek Orthodox unity in North America.

Then the delegates cheered as Metropolitan Philip Saliba announced his decision to withdraw from the National Council of Churches USA.

The archdiocese joined the old Federated Council of Churches in the 1940s and had been active in the ecumenical movement ever since, said Father Olof Scott, of the church's interfaith relations office. But recent decades have been tough.

The Orthodox believe "we're getting further and further away from the primary goal of looking to bring Christianity back into a unified fold," he told AncientFaithRadio.com. Now, the "churches of the mainline Protestant world really don't want to hear our message. It is with that frustration that we felt that we can put our efforts to better use elsewhere."

The national council has not responded to the departure of one of its 36 churches, said the Rev. Leslie Thune, its spokesperson in Washington. General Secretary Bob Edgar – a former Democratic congressman – is currently out of the office, but has promised to meet with Metropolitan Philip as soon as possible to discuss his concerns.

"We did not even know that this was in the works," said Thune.

However, she noted the council's oft-repeated stance that it does not take stands on divisive doctrinal issues, since many of its member churches have clashing beliefs on such matters.

Nevertheless, Scott said the Antiochian archdiocese quit the council, in large part, because of what he called an "almost a politicized agenda" under Edgar – with a strong emphasis on sexual liberation and opposition to conservative Christianity.

A turning point came in 2000 when Edgar removed his signature from "A Christian Declaration on Marriage," a statement signed by representatives of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, the Southern Baptist Convention and the National Association of Evangelicals. The text defined marriage as between man and a woman.

After speaking at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Breakfast during an NCC general assembly, Edgar issued an apology and affirmed his support for same-sex unions. He told Presbyterian News Service: "I support marriage, and I support more than marriage the love between two people, and I don't differentiate whether it is between a man and a woman or a woman and a woman or a man and a man or whatever. We need fidelity and care in relationships."

There have been many signs of tension. Two years ago, the Russian Orthodox Church cut all ties with the U.S. Episcopal Church following the consecration of the openly gay Bishop Gene Robinson of New Hampshire. Russian Patriarch Alexy II recently said he was worried about the leadership role that churches offering a "free interpretation" of sexual morality hold in the World Council of Churches.

Last month, the Orthodox Church in America – which has Russian roots – studied a document that said the "most advisable course" for its ecumenical work "would be eventually to withdraw from the NCC and the WCC." After all, said this "Orthodox Relations" text, there are more Protestant and Pentecostal Christians outside of these councils than there are inside and neither includes the Roman Catholic Church.

The Antiochian archdiocese agrees. Decades ago, said Scott, Orthodoxy needed a seat in the National Council of Churches in order to "put a face" on its often mysterious rites and parishes. But now the momentum is toward work with more conservative believers.

"We don't need the NCC," he said, "for the identity of Orthodoxy in the new world. People know who we are. We are strong. We are vibrant. We are growing."