Persecution? What Persecution?

The dominoes began falling when Haik Hovsepian-Mehr dared to start a global campaign to save a fellow Iranian pastor.

Mahedi Dibaj was on death row in 1994, charged with apostasy for converting from Islam to Christianity. He was released, to the joyful surprise of Iran's tiny Protestant community.

Then Hovsepian-Mehr was kidnapped, tortured and murdered. Then Dibaj disappeared. Then Tateos Machaellian, who followed Hovsepian- Mehr as leader of Iran's Protestants, was murdered. Police said they had discovered Dibaj's body while hunting Machaellian's killers. These crimes remain unsolved. Since then, 20 Christian leaders from Iran have fled for their lives. The U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service has denied their pleas for asylum.

"This is just one tragic example of what's going on," said Faith McDonnell of the conservative Institute on Religion and Democracy. "There are many other cases just as bad."

The falling dominoes in Iran, China, Kuwait, Sudan and elsewhere officially reached Washington, D.C., during the past two weeks. After months of lobbying, religious conservatives and human- rights activists convinced Congress to call for action – including the appointment of a White House specialist and a thorough review of all U.S. policies affecting "persecuted Christians."

A Sept. 17 Senate resolution noted: "In the past, the United States has used its international leadership to vigorously take up the cause of other persecuted religious minorities. Unfortunately, the United States has in many instances failed to raise forcefully the issue of anti-Christian persecution."

The House resolution this week said more Christians have been martyred in the 20th century than in the previous 19 combined. In one blast of politically sensitive text, it noted that China's Communist leaders have called underground Evangelical and Catholic congregations "a principal threat to political stability."

Meanwhile, the White House braced for criticism during this Sunday's "International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church" in thousands of churches linked to the Worldwide Evangelical Fellowship. Earlier this week, the administration began circulating its plans to heed the advice of more liberal religious groups and appoint a study commission linked to the State Department, instead of taking more confrontational actions.

"From day one, the White House position has been that this isn't really about the persecution of Christians," said Nina Shea of Freedom House, who has verbally agreed to serve on the new commission. She was, at mid-week, awaiting written confirmation of the panel's existence and details of its mandate.

White House officials, said Shea, are "especially interested in what they call the positive uses of religion, like finding ways for religious groups to work together. ... That's fine, but it would be tragic if issues of religious persecution turn into one item on some commission's long list."

The political and theological lines in this debate can be seen in this weekend's first annual "Persecution Sunday" activities. Supporters include the Southern Baptist Convention, the Assemblies of God, the National Association of Evangelicals and a host of Episcopal, United Methodist, Lutheran and other oldline Protestant groups that have rebelled against their hierarchies by taking conservative stands on moral and social issues.

Meanwhile, National Council of Churches leaders say persecution reports are being overstated. The council's Asian specialist, for example, told a religious news agency that he "would definitely not use the word `persecution'" to describe recent events in China.

Another NCC official, Albert Pennybacker, opposed the naming of a special presidential advisor and called for a commission on global religious issues. He told a House subcommittee: "What may appear as `persecution' and indeed resistance may in fact be the wish to preserve authentic religious and cultural traditions. ... If it is true that the persecution of believers of all faiths is pervasive, it is rightly a cause for deep concern and lament."

This stance stuns McDonnell and other conservatives.

"`If'? `If' there is persecution of believers?", she said, sarcastically. "We don't need some kind of Howdy-Doody commission to know that Christians are dying for their faith. It's time for action, not more politically correct talk."

Yom Kippur, sin and Dr. Laura

On Yom Kippur, Jews are asked to meditate on their sins, vow to make changes and then soberly face the future.

For 10 million-plus radio listeners, this probably sounds like calling in to talk with Laura Schlessinger. While most radio counselors offer moral cosmetic surgery, "Dr. Laura" has stormed ahead of the pack by performing radical operations – with little or no anesthesia.

It all comes down to the Ten Commandments, she said. Basic moral laws are becoming even more relevant in an age of easy excuses and smorgasbord religion.

"Lots of people say `I'm not religious,' but when you ask them to describe their values they basically start quoting you the Ten Commandments," said Schlessinger, who last weekend delivered a Rosh Hashanah address entitled "Why Bother Being Jewish?" at the synagogue she attends. The High Holy Days end with Yom Kippur, which begins at sundown Sunday.

"Most of our moral laws come from religion," she added. "There's something above us that says some things are right and some are wrong. ... I find it hard to take anyone seriously who won't admit that."

Most moral mavericks quickly change their tunes when the tables are turned, she noted. Truth is, they "want the freedom to hurt other people, but then they don't want to be hurt."

Schlessinger has both a Columbia University doctorate in physiology and a post-doctorate certificate in marriage and family counseling. While many call her a conservative, she shuns labels and has even declined to create her own – other than to call her blunt style "preaching, teaching and nagging."

Social liberals knock her because she attacks premarital sex, adultery and easy divorces. She says abortion is wrong and that children should be raised by their mothers and fathers – at home. Most of all, she grills adults who put their own interests ahead of those of children. Meanwhile, some conservatives are not sure she's pure enough. Many question her acceptance of some gay and lesbian relationships. Others wonder about the sources of her moral code.

While baptized as a Catholic, Schlessinger converted to Judaism as an adult. She also has said that meditation and martial- arts training – she has a karate black belt – played roles in her "philosophical evolution." She recently offered this on-air summation of her faith: "I am as religious a Jew as I can struggle to be at this point."

Her personal strategy for handling tough issues is to match wits with her rabbi. She also keeps a file of letters and telephone numbers sent in by other clergy – a valuable resource when handling religious issues on her show.

But most callers already know what's right and wrong, she said. The problem is that they just don't want to do it.

A self-proclaimed born-again Christian once said he was separated from his wife and shacked up with another woman. Yes, he knew this was sinful. His problem? Pangs of guilt. Another caller admitted that he felt guilty having sex with his girlfriend. He didn't want to marry her because she wasn't a Christian "like he is." An Orthodox Jewish woman asked for help solving a problem linked to driving on the Sabbath, which is forbidden in Orthodoxy. She got upset when asked to explain her statement that she already was living with her fiance.

Clergy must realize that it isn't enough, these days, to talk about "sin," said Schlessinger. At some point they will have to risk making sustained arguments in favor of virtue. In her bestseller, "How Could You Do That?", she noted: "I am saddened that too many pulpits don't challenge the folks in the pews (lest attendance drop?) about their personal behaviors in the context of moral choices, which ultimately give dignity to fundamentally animal behaviors."

Her show's popularity may be evidence of this sad silence. If people can't find practical answers in places that were once moral sanctuaries, they may turn to other forums – such as talk radio.

"I guess," she said, "my program is filling that gap, somehow, for a great many people."

Climbing out of CCM Purgatory

Bonnie Keen was on stage doing what she does best – singing harmony – when she heard an alarm clanging in her soul.

As a member of the trio First Call, she was singing behind one of gospel music's superstars. While Sandi Patty held the spotlight, Keen found herself paying especially close attention to many details of the concert.

Everyone talked about freedom and letting God take control, while the tightly choreographed show marched in lock-step with studio backing tapes. The stars sang about praising God, while bathing in the crowd's adoration. The show looked like entertainment, while people called it worship.

"It was like something hit me," said Keen, recalling the scene. "I thought, `What is this supposed to be? Is this a concert? Is it a worship service? What is this?'"

These soul-searching questions remain just as relevant today, as Keen and her veteran vocal partner Marty McCall begin climbing out of gospel-music purgatory.

It has been two years since the tabloids went wild covering First Call member Marabeth Jordon's extramarital affair with Michael English, who was gospel's rising star. Jordon was pregnant. Then came the divorces and news of a miscarriage. Gospel retailers yanked English's recordings off shelves and he has since begun a secular career. Jordan has quietly returned to studio work.

Keen and McCall were blindsided. While most stores kept selling the trio's music, one insider's words to an industry journal captured the mood: "As far as we know, two-thirds of the group is still on solid ground, as far as ministry goes." All outsiders need to know about the Twilight Zone called Contemporary Christian Music, or CCM, is summed up in those words, "As far as we know." That was the bottom of the pit.

"We were changed forever by what happened," said Keen. "The majority of people in the industry pulled away and that hurt – deeply. ... Our experiences just didn't fit into anyone's little pigeonholes for how things were supposed to go."

After two years of silence, Keen and McCall recently finished a new album as a duo, with the simple title "First Call." Its opening song talks about life's burdens, while the chorus is both hopeful and defiant: "You gotta trust in the power of God, when nothing makes sense. ... In the wake of the tears of the innocent, let the healing begin."

The tears began long before 1994's scandal tore the roof off the sanctuary. In the early 1980s, First Call toured with the young Amy Grant. In recent years, Grant and her husband, singer Gary Chapman, have openly talked about how they saved their troubled marriage. Meanwhile, many Christians still attack Grant's profitable leap into pop music. First Call also sang with Russ Taff, who rose to stardom while doubting his faith. Even Sandi Patty got a divorce and married her lover.

Keen has watched the drama unfold in a business in which revelation can be part of the stagecraft. Industry leaders continue to debate where "ministry" ends and "performing" begins. Some insist that CCM is about "evangelism," while others admit that most of the music is entertainment for a Christian niche market.

It all comes back to that question: "What is this?"

Obviously, CCM artists are professionals who make their living performing on stage and in the studio. But for whom are they performing and why? They are not ministers. Yet it's clear many listeners look to them for spiritual inspiration and insights. They are rarely evangelists. Yet, like most clergy, they spend most of their time preaching to people who already believe.

"I think we're Christians who speak to other Christians ... about our own faith and what it means to try to live out that faith," she said. "But we're going to have to be honest about that. If we've suffered pain, if we've suffered loss, we need to admit that. ... Maybe the fact that we're still here – after all we've been through – can serve as an encouragement to people who have suffered loses of their own."

Tips for the Truly Pro-Life

The back of the Anaheim Hilton ballroom was lined with news crews, but the cameras were turned off while Cathy Brown and Laurie Wideman shared the spotlight.

They weren't "the news" on this day. The American Life League was honoring Pat Buchanan and, since this was his next-to-last speech before the Republican National Convention, reporters were dispatched to see if he would endorse, or attack, Bob Dole.

So this was a Religious Right rally, with all the trimmings. Singers belted out gospel and patriotic anthems, backed by cassette-tape orchestras. Talk-show hosts strafed the White House. Buchanan joked about this being a non-political gathering.

All Brown and Wideman did was talk about realities that lurk behind the politics of sex, abortion and single mothers. Their words last month may not have been big news, but they spoke volumes about life in millions of homes and churches. Their message: Parents still don't want to talk about sex. Thus, many respond poorly when a crisis pregnancy forces candor.

Brown said she was fortunate. She feared that her conservative Christian parents would reject her, since sex outside of marriage clashed with everything she had been taught. Still, part of her was excited about being pregnant.

"My mom didn't cry out `Congratulations!' But she didn't scream and yell, either," said Brown. "She gave me a big hug and said we'd get through this somehow. ... Then – and this is what I'll never forget – she started talking about the baby. We both started talking about the baby."

Today, Brown has a 3-year-old son.

Things were different for Wideman. Her mistake had botched everyone's plans and they told her so. Still, she decided not to have an abortion, after struggling with the decision. Her parents took her to the clinic, anyway. When she insisted that she didn't want to go through with the procedure, Wideman said the abortionist slapped her and said: "You spoiled little brat. Don't you know that your mother is only trying to give you a future?"

Today, Wideman is married and has two children. Her aborted daughter, who she named Sonya, would have been 22 this year.

Both women admitted that it's a challenge for churches and parents to deliver two messages, simultaneously. No. 1: Premarital sex is sinful. No. 2: Pregnancy is not. What can people do, when asked to walk their talk?

• Be positive, yet realistic. A surprising number of parents angrily vow to force the young woman out of the house. Others act as if the pregnancy is a bad dream, caused by the mother-to-be. Others simply cannot hide their sadness. "Don't be sad," said Brown. "To feel sad means something is wrong. ... Kill a young mother's joy and you may kill that baby."
• Traditionalists know that young people have been baptized in mixed messages about sex outside of marriage. Thus, many fear that embracing those who become pregnant will only add to the confusion. It is impossible to hide this moral issue. "There will be a time and a place to talk about that," said Wideman. "But when someone tells you they are pregnant, that isn't the time and the place."
• While Brown is single, she still has an intact extended family. Instead of "single mothers," many others could more accurately be called "solo mothers." Churches must help fill this gap, providing both emotional and practical support.
• Remember that most young women who consider abortions are not selfish, evil or self-centered. Usually, they are scared and feel coerced. Often, they have been manipulated by an older male. "Remember," said Brown, "they're more afraid of not being loved than they are of being pregnant."
• Above all, pay close attention to what is said, because words inspire actions. Mere words – such as "mistake" – can "delegitimatize" unborn children, said Brown.

"We can say that premarital sex and single-parenting are not part of God's plan," she said. "But that doesn't mean that God considers my baby a mistake. ... My baby wasn't a mistake. For me, he was a wake up call. He was a wonderful surprise."