America – a 'Christian' nation?

Any researcher who comes to the United States of America to study how people talk will find plenty of people who speak languages other than English.

Some don't speak English at all. Many speak English and another language. Many others – computer-software pros, for example – speak dialects blending English with various unknown tongues. But statistically, the U.S. is an English-speaking nation.

"OK, that is true," said Father Richard John Neuhaus, editor-in-chief of First Things, a journal of religion and public life. "This is not to say that most Americans speak English very well. But when they are speaking a language very poorly, it is English that they are speaking."

What about religion? Anyone who offers a parallel analysis of religion in America will hear howls of protest.

Want to start a fight? Call America a "Christian nation."

But do the math, said Neuhaus. Surveys show that 90 percent of Americans call themselves "Christians" and 80 percent claim some link to a specific church. Even backsliding Baptists and Christmas-Eve Catholics feel some of the ties that bind.

Thus, Neuhaus dares to speak the words "Christian America."

It is a "matter of extraordinary significance how people think about themselves," said Neuhaus, speaking an ecumenical conference at Samford University's Beeson Divinity School in Birmingham, Ala. "It's not for us to say, 'Oh, you think you're a Christian, but let me judge you – you're really not.'

"We may find someone to be a very imperfect Christian, a very muddled Christian, a very confused Christian, an inwardly contradictory Christian. But, in their minds, they think they are Christians."

Yes, most Americans do an inadequate job of practicing their religion, he said. Yet it is also true that when they are "practicing a religion very inadequately, it is Christianity that they are practicing – overwhelmingly."

Neuhaus has a knack for punchy statements that make academic and media elites nervous. He emerged as a major voice in church-state debates in 1984 with his book, "The Naked Public Square: Religion and Democracy in America." As a Lutheran pastor he marched with the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. Today, he is a Roman Catholic priest. Anyone who wants to understand the views of culturally conservative Christians – such as the current occupant of the White House –- pays attention to this witty New Yorker.

One reason it's hard to speak the words "Christian America" in public is that so many people use these words in such radically different ways. Osama bin Laden says America is a "Christian nation." Then again, so does the Rev. Pat Robertson. This is the kind of synergy that makes people nervous.

Neuhaus said many scholars admit that America can be called "Christian" if this is understood in cultural, not doctrinal, terms. Even then, most would insist that this language is too dangerous to use in public life.

"There are troubles in talking about a 'Christian America,' " he said. "You can say, 'Well! America, even in moments of patriotic fervor, such as we have witnessed and continue to witness does not deserve to be called 'Christian.' "

There are other problems. Many Catholics resist using "Christian America" because this term has historically been so popular with Protestants. Also, there remain small pockets of believers who – if they had the power – would gladly replace "One nation, under God" with "One nation, under God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit" or even "One nation, under the Lordship of Jesus Christ."

Meanwhile, some critics – on left and right – now believe that "we live in a 'post-Christian' America. At one time it was Christian, but now ... it is essentially a pagan America," said Neuhaus. Some leaders on the religious left insist that it's time to joyfully embrace the fact that America can be described as "One nation, under many gods."

Lots of people wish the subject would go away.

Perhaps many Christians have a reason to ignore the complex and disturbing statistics that define the paradoxes of faith and public life in America, said Neuhaus. Perhaps, just perhaps, "We Christians don't want to take responsibility for what a overwhelmingly Christian society would look like. It looks an awful lot like this one – filled with sinners."

England – an alien culture

It is strange for a British shepherd to return home and confess that he feels like an alien.

Yet whenever Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor finishes the flight from Peru to Great Britain, he feels confused. During numerous trips to South America, he has visited priests and their flocks who live simple lives as they struggle with poverty, disease and hunger. Yet most seem remarkably joyful.

That is not what the cardinal sees at home, where there exists a "surplus of all that glitters." In fact, the leader of the Catholic Church in England is no longer sure that he understands the soul of his homeland.

"The unease, even anguish, of our Western world is there for all to see," said Murphy-O'Connor, in a recent address to the National Conference of Priests. "I could go on about this, and talk also about the rise in New Age and occult practices and the search being made by young people for something in which, or someone in whom, they can put their complete trust. ...

"We in the West become richer, able to possess what we want when we want, and yet in doing so we do not necessarily become happier. Why is it that so many in our society seek transient happiness through alcohol, drugs, pornography and recreational sex?"

These are blunt words, especially coming from a cardinal. Under normal conditions, they might have started a lengthy debate about the spiritual identity of a proud land. That was not the case this time – since this sermon was preached only days before Sept. 11th.

Nevertheless, the cardinal's words remain relevant in the wake of the attacks, which pundits keep describing as a "clash of cultures." Britain is a symbolic player in these events.

According to Murphy-O'Connor, British culture has changed. It is no longer what it used to be. The cardinal even began with a provocative biblical lament from Psalm 137: "How shall we sing a song of the Lord on alien soil? "The most stinging passage did not appear in the published text. According to the Times, the cardinal added this statement: "It does seem in our countries in Britain today ... that Christianity, as a sort of backdrop to people's lives and moral decisions – and to the government, the social life of the country – has now almost been vanquished."

The church must face this fact, he said. The years ahead will require both compassion and tough realism.

It has been easy to see this trend in statistics. A survey in 2000 found that 48 percent of adults in the United Kingdom claim a specific religious tradition, compared with 86 percent of Americans and 92 percent of Italians. Among the young in Britain, two-thirds of those between 18-24 claimed no specific faith as their own.

The profile of Roman Catholicism has risen in England during the past decade, even though Mass attendance is down 20 percent. In part, this is because statistics have been even bleaker in the Church of England, with only a quarter of the population now identifying with the state church. In the late 1990s, Anglican attendance figures slipped under the 1 million mark.

But the cardinal did not focus on statistical decline. The key, he said, is that modern England worships at the altar of moral consumerism and absolute personal freedom.

This has been devastating in family life. He noted that the land's chief rabbi, Jonathan Sacks, has openly stated his belief that the "extraordinary institution, marriage, which brought together sexuality, emotional kinship and the creation of new life and wove them into a moral partnership suffused by love, has been exploded as effectively as if someone had planted a bomb in the center of our moral life."

There is no sign that matters will change anytime soon, the cardinal said.

"There is an indifference to Christian values and to the church among many young people and, indeed, not only the young," he said. "You see a quite demoralized society – one where the only good is what I want, the only rights are my own and the only life with any meaning or value is the life I want for myself."

Digging deeper than 'Where was God?'

Time is passing, but that stack of newspapers in the corner is growing.

Time is passing, but those images of passenger jets, flaming skies and twisted steel are still buried over there under the new layers of rubber-suited health warriors fighting a tide of sickening white powder.

Time is passing, but preachers know people are still asking: Where was God? They can see people flinch when they hear a Psalm that says: "He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. ... You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day, nor of the pestilence that walks in darkness, nor of the destruction that lays waste at noonday."

"Right now, people who aren't even believers are going to stop you and ask: 'Where was God?' It's a serious question and we have to take it seriously," said Haddon Robinson, one of the world's most celebrated teachers of preaching. "People who are asking this question are sincere. But still, it does kind of make you want to say, 'You never took evil all that seriously, did you? You thought evil was something up on a movie screen, but you never really thought it was real.' "

"Where was God?" is the kind of question people ask during a crisis. In the months ahead, said Robinson, preachers will almost certainly have dig deeper than this one ancient mystery. They will need to wrestle with other questions linked to fear and hope, joy and pain, human freedom and supernatural evil, twisted souls and eternal justice.

Millions of people are searching for God. Millions are angry with God. Many are searching and angry at the same time.

Welcome to the complex and dramatic world of the Bible and real faith. These are the kinds of issues Robinson has helped preachers face in Dallas and Denver and, today, as a distinguished professor at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary outside Boston. A few years ago, a national poll named him as one of the top 12 preachers in the English-speaking world.

"People are watching a drama unfold, these days, but they're not sure what's happening," he said. "They want to know if someone is really in charge. They want to know what part they're supposed to be playing in this story. Everyone is shook up. The stereotype is to say that everything has changed, but what's really true is that everything has been challenged.

"Right now, even people who don't go to church are asking about the end of the world. They're asking where God is, but they're also asking who God is. One thing is sure – God doesn't seem to be the happy, white-haired man sitting up in a cloud somewhere."

Many of the questions preachers will face in an era of terror and strife, he said, are linked to suffering, repentance and, ultimately, redemption. Thus, it's time to note that the biblical drama includes scenes of unspeakable tragedy, as well as triumph. The villains win many victories, while the people of God often wander lost in the wilderness. The Bible has as much to say about "evil" as about "good."

Most of all, this drama is full of saints who rejoice in the midst of suffering. Modern believers may ask: What was that all about? The saints also focused on God's call for them to repent of their own sins, instead of assigning blame to others. They kept the faith, even when confronting painful mysteries.

These great themes were easy to ignore, during an era when many Americans were meditating on their stock portfolios and Day-Timers.

"We've been telling ourselves that we're normal, while all of those saints must have been strange people who brought all that suffering on themselves, somehow," said Robinson. "But the atmosphere that surrounds our preaching has changed. Six months ago, if you preached a sermon about suffering and the possibility that life could take a real turn for the worse, it would have seemed like you were trying to whip up some gloom and doom. People would have written you off.

"I think people are ready to listen, now."

Buying St. Nostradamus

When American Airlines Flight 77 slammed into the Pentagon, a jet-fuel fireball claimed most of its victims before they could even dive under their desks.

But as rescue crews worked through the charred halls, word spread of an amazing sign of hope. On the second floor – steps from where the plane sliced away the building – stood a stool holding a large, open book that had not been burned. Eyewitnesses reportedly said it was a Bible and the news flew across the nation via the Internet.

"It's such a perfect metaphor," noted Barbara Mikkelson, a curator at the San Fernando Valley Folklore Society's urban legends research site (www.snopes.com). "It's like, in the midst of all of this death, mayhem and horror, this one enduring symbol of faith was untouched. ...

"When you look at it that way, it's kind of a shame it turned out to be a dictionary."

Imagine what people would have thought if it had been a copy of "Nostradamus: The Complete Prophecies."

That's the book by the French astrologer who "in 1654" wrote: "On the 11th day of the 9th month, two metal birds will crash into two tall statues, in the new city, and the world will end soon after." Only, Nostradamus – who died in 1566 – didn't write that. He also didn't write some of the other verses attributed to him in waves of recent emails. Alas, it's too late for the converts who bought those Nostradamus books and videos.

Truth is, people are buying all kinds of things. Rumors and visions are everywhere.

"As the saying goes, the problem isn't that Americans don't believe in anything. It's that they believe in everything," said George Gallup, Jr. "What this says to me is that people are searching, but they aren't rooted in the orthodox faith. Most of them will say they are Christians, or even born-again Christians, but they aren't grounded in any traditional set of beliefs. ...

"People are roaring off in all directions. They're hanging onto to whatever helps them feel better, including some things that are pretty nutty."

News reports have featured stirring images of Americans flocking into sanctuaries. According to the headlines, terrorism has stirred the fires of faith. But the reality is more complex than that. While it's easy to find signs that more Americans are hungry for "spiritual experience," there is little evidence that they're committed to the doctrines and disciplines of any one faith.

Last summer, the Gallup Organization produced data indicating that belief in biblical authority has fallen to an all-time low. While 93 percent of all households own at least one Bible, only 27 percent of people polled affirmed that Scripture contains "the actual word of God in all instances." That figure was 65 percent in 1963.

Meanwhile, the same "Emerging Trends" newsletter contained an article noting "a significant increase in belief in psychic, paranormal and occult phenomena over the past decade." A third or more of Americans now believe in such things as "haunted houses, possession by the devil, ghosts, telepathy, extraterrestrial beings having visited earth and clairvoyance." Belief in angels also continues to soar.

So it isn't surprising that Americans are seeking spiritual answers to questions raised by the hellish images they witnessed on 9/11, said Frank Newport, editor of the Gallup Poll. But it also isn't shocking that most of them are turning to the World Wide Web, mall bookstores and video stores instead of to churches.

After the attacks, the percentage of those polled that said they had attended worship during the previous seven days rose from 41 to 47 percent, over the numbers in May. The percentage who said that some kind of religion was "very important" in their life rose from 57 to 64 percent.

"That whole story may turn out to have been an urban legend," said Newport. "Yes, more people seem to have gone to church, that first weekend, but it was nothing truly extraordinary. ... I'm sure there are all kinds of anecdotes about people stopping and smelling the roses and thinking twice about their lives. But we're just not seeing any evidence of some kind of Great Awakening out there."

Apocalyptic questions for the press

Surely it was the strangest question a journalist asked on the day the world changed.

The mid-day mass at her New York City parish drew a larger crowd than usual, Peggy Noonan reported in the Wall Street Journal, and the people on the kneelers looked "stricken." As the rite ended, the columnist and speechwriter sought out a neighbor. Her family was OK.

"Did a rat stand on its hind legs this morning?", asked Noonan.

The Park Avenue woman said "no."

This was a question with a history. In the mid-1990s, this neighbor told Noonan about her growing sense of dread about New York City's future. Out of the blue, she said: "If ever something bad is going to happen to the city, I pray each day that God will give me a sign. That he will let me see a rat stand up on the sidewalk. So I'll know to gather the kids and go."

In 1998, Noonan wrote that she too was convinced someone was about to do "the big, terrible thing to New York or Washington." It might be a nuclear bomb, chemicals or germs.

"Three billion men, and it takes only a dozen bright and evil ones to harness and deploy," she wrote, in an essay reprinted after 9/11. "What are the odds it will happen? Put it another way: What are the odds it will not? Low. Nonexistent, I think."

What was the answer? Noonan urged readers to, "Pray. Unceasingly. Take the time."

It wasn't a typical question and she didn't offer a typical journalistic answer. But when the flying bombs hit the World Trade Center, things turned upside down in public life and in the news, said Fred Barnes of the Weekly Standard. This attack did more than shake the White House and the U.S. Congress. It shook America's soul.

"We left an era of peace and prosperity and considerable decadence," he told a Baptist Press student journalism conference in Nashville. Now, the nation faces "war and economic trouble and serious issues that will force us to think on a much larger scale. ^?Our culture changed, a little bit. These changes may not be permanent, but they are certainly big right now."

Journalists need to consider apocalyptic questions that once would have seemed insane. Here are a few I have heard lately:

* If bin Laden wants to conquer the Islamic world, toppling "sinful" and "Westernized" Muslim regimes in the process, what would the U.S. and NATO do if his revolution seemed poised to take the Arabian peninsula? What are the implications for Jerusalem if bin Laden captures Mecca and Medina?

* Has anyone considered the implications of a blast leveling the Vatican during the current month-long synod between Pope John Paul II and the world's Catholic bishops?

* According to Thomas Friedman of the New York Times, the real war is "not between civilizations, but within them – between those Muslims, Christians, Hindus, Buddhists and Jews with a modern and progressive outlook and those with a medieval one." This raises a crucial question: How many elite progressives assume that orthodox believers who defend ancient traditions - this pope leaps to mind – are spiritually on the side of terror and repression?

* In 1998, Osama bin Laden issued a commandment – or "fatwa" – that Muslims should kill as many Americans as possible, broadening his earlier call for the deaths of American soldiers. What would happen if Muslims who say bin Laden has distorted their faith issued a "fatwa" against him? Will anyone dare?

Barnes asked this question: "Has President Bush been called by God to be president and lead the nation at this particular time? ... Is this why he is here? Does God have him here for a purpose?" Barnes noted that the circuitous path that led the one-time party boy and under-achieving businessman to the White House has led some to speculate that "God's hand is on this man and on his life, as he deals with this war or terrorism."

All kinds of people will, of course, disagree about how to answer questions of this kind. But it will be hard for journalists to ignore the fact that people are asking them.