Australia

Global South Anglicans are convinced that it's time to look forward (Part II)

Global South Anglicans are convinced that it's time to look forward (Part II)

Want to know how to cause a church split?

The deepest fault lines -- sex, money and pride -- have been obvious for centuries, said Archbishop Kanishka Raffel of the Anglican Diocese of Sydney, Australia.

"We use nationality or age or gender or wealth or clothing or accent or profession or politics -- to show off and communicate who we are and what sort of person we will or will not engage with," said Raffel, who was born in London, of Sri Lankan descent, and raised Buddhist.

"God's people are frail and very human. We bear the marks of weakness and humiliation. We can be loveless, faithless, tolerant of the intolerable and wretchedly self-satisfied. … God is angry about the abuse of people that comes through sexual immorality, greed and hateful, deceitful and cruel speech. We are not surprised."

For decades, he acknowledged, the 42 churches in the Anglican Communion have been rocked by divisions over biblical authority and colonial-era ecclesiastical structures -- with LGBTQ disputes grabbing headlines.

During the recent Global Anglican Future Conference, held in Kigali, Rwanda, Raffel was one of several bishops -- 315 attended, from 52 nations -- who stressed that traditionalists now need to look forward. It's time to focus on life in their rapidly growing churches, while dedicating less time and energy to clashes with declining churches in England, America, Canada and elsewhere.

This will, Raffel stressed, require looking in the mirror.

"We have been engaged in decades long conversation about sexual immorality. But we have often focused on one form of sexual sin, to the neglect of sexual sins which perhaps are more common among us and just as displeasing to God," he said. "How many women ... have shed rivers of tears over the way their sexuality has been misused by others? I suppose it would be millions. There is a self-serving blind spot of which we must repent, a log in our own eyes with which we are yet to deal. Lord, have mercy."


Please respect our Commenting Policy

Schism or not, what's next for the huge, disrupted global Anglican Communion?

Schism or not, what's next for the huge, disrupted global Anglican Communion?

If the Anglican Communion did not suffer schism on April 21, it’s the next best thing.

A declaration issued that day at the conclusion of an international church assembly in Kigali, Rwanda, means the media and other religion-watchers should gird loins for years of maneuvers, legalities, confusion and acrimony.

Here’s what’s at stake. This major segment of Christianity encompasses an estimated 85 to 90 million members worldwide in 46 regional branches. Its older western churches have a rich heritage in religious thought, worship, and fine arts, while the younger churches in the “Global South” are at the forefront of today’s creative Christian expansion.

This loose confederation has been organized like so.

(1) The archbishop of Canterbury, its titular leader as head of the “mother” Church of England, is no pope but summons and presides at these meetings.

(2) The Lambeth Conference, which gathers all Anglican bishops worldwide, most recently held — with many Global South leaders absent —last summer.

(3) The Primates’ Meeting (the confusing P-word refers to the leaders of regional branches), held most recently in March, 2022.

(4) The Anglican Consultative Council, a body of bishops, clergy and lay delegates that met most recently in February in Ghana.

The April 21 “Kigali Commitment,” which includes an emphatic vote of no confidence in all four of those entities, was issued by 315 bishops, 456 priests and 531 lay delegates from 52 countries. Sponsors claim their churches constitute nearly 85% of the world’s active Anglicans; for certain they represent a substantial — and growing — majority.


Please respect our Commenting Policy

Cardinal Pell's final sermon quietly echoed themes from his fierce attacks on Pope Francis

Cardinal Pell's final sermon quietly echoed themes from his fierce attacks on Pope Francis

Cardinal George Pell had no way to know, as he rose to preach during a spiritual retreat in southern Italy, that this was his last sermon -- opening with the biblical cry, "Repent, because the Kingdom of God is near."

Catholics should stay focused on truths proclaimed during the reigns of St. John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI, he said, at the Shrine of St. Padre Pio in San Giovanni Rotondo.

These popes "were missionaries of the truth. We don't build the truth. We don't have the ability to change the truth. We can only acknowledge the truth, and sometimes the truth isn't all that pretty. Sometimes the truth is disconcerting, difficult," said Pell, three days before his death on January 10, after routine hip surgery.

"These two Popes did not affirm that the teaching of Jesus was conditioned by the time, by the Roman Empire, by the pagans. They did not claim that the essential and central teaching should be updated, radically changed. They didn't say: 'We don't know what Jesus said because there were no tape recorders.' … As for them, and also for us, Jesus remains the way, the truth and the life."

On this day, the burly 6-foot-4 cardinal faced a gathering of Catholic charismatics, not an audience of Vatican power brokers. Nevertheless, this final sermon -- translated from Italian by Inside the Vatican magazine -- touched on themes in his recent writings that fueled raging debates about Pope Francis and the modernization of Catholic doctrines and worship.

In that sermon, Cardinal Pell offered only one nod to Pope Francis, while noting the potential for future popes from Africa, Asia and the Global South. "Today we have a Pope from South America -- praiseworthy and good," he said.

But after Pell's death, Italian journalist Sandro Magister revealed that the Australian cardinal -- using the pseudonym "Demos" -- had written a fierce March memo circulated to members of the College of Cardinals focusing on issues that loom over the next conclave to select a pope.

The Francis pontificate has been "a disaster in many or most respects; a catastrophe," this memo claimed.


Please respect our Commenting Policy

Cardinal Pell's death puts spotlight on his words and arguments about Catholicism's future

Cardinal Pell's death puts spotlight on his words and arguments about Catholicism's future

The Catholic church recently lost a giant. The death of Cardinal George Pell on Jan. 10 at the age of 81 was the literal loss of a giant — he stood at a towering 6-foot-6 and was once an Australian Rules Football player in his youth. But he was also a man who attracted both controversy and consternation.

Many remember Pell for what took place in the last chapter of his life — that of being found guilty of child sexual abuse in 2018. The cardinal won on appeal two years later, the convictions quashed by Australia’s High Court.

Pell also had some very real disagreements with Pope Francis regarding theology and the direction of the church in recent years — something that earned him headlines after his death calling him “divisive” and “controversial.”

Nearly two weeks after his death, Pell continues to be written about in both the secular and Catholic press. A lot of this coverage has been thin on reporting and loaded with commentary, conjecture and analysis. In fact, Pell’s death wasn’t only a reflection of the past, but where the church is headed in the future and what Francis’ papacy means.

It’s within this context — and some of the juicier revelations to come out once Pell died — that has kept journalists busy. Once again, the coverage is skewed heavily towards familiar arguments whether the church should stay true to beliefs regarding marriage and sex that go back 2,000 years or look to the future in order to mesh with the mores of the present.

It is through that prism that Pell has received coverage, especially after a secret memo Pell had penned was made public just days after his death.


Please respect our Commenting Policy

Novak Djokovic is both Orthodox and unorthodox: Why ignore faith when covering this story?

Novak Djokovic is both Orthodox and unorthodox: Why ignore faith when covering this story?

First things first. I am not a tennis fan. I don’t think I have seriously cared about the outcome of a tennis match since the late Arthur Ashe won Wimbledon in 1975.

Also, as a Baby Boomer at high risk (asthma), I have had both shots and the booster. I am currently in semi-lockdown. I wear a mask when shopping and in jammed public places. I’m one of those folks in the middle — pro-vaccine, but anti-government mandate. What about religious exemptions? As I have written here at GetReligion, that would be a complex U.S. Supreme Court case.

This brings me to the Novak Djokovic drama. I vaguely knew that he was one of the world’s top tennis players, but knew nothing about his unique — bizarre, even — beliefs about a host of medical issues.

Then I saw an image that hit home for me, as an Eastern Orthodox Christian believer. It showed Djokovic doing what Orthodox parents do — helping his young son light prayer candles and venerate icons.

What follows in this post has nothing to do with whether readers think Djokovic is right or wrong, a liar or a Serbian hero, a lunatic or a misunderstood believer, of some kind of another. What I am doing here is asking a journalism question about mainstream coverage of this battle in the wider COVID-19 wars. I read the New York Times, of course, so that was where I immediately went for information.

The question: How could journalists try to tell the story of Djokovic and his opposition to COVID-19 vaccines without digging into his complex and, it seems to me, confusing set of Orthodox and unorthodox religious beliefs? Isn’t that a crucial and factual element of this story?

I am aware, of course, that anti-vaccine sentiment is present in some Orthodox circles — such as Serbia — but certainly not all (my own bishop has been very careful during the pandemic).


Please respect our Commenting Policy

New podcast: What's God got to do with it? There's more to Hillsong drama than celebrities

Nearly 40 years ago, I wrote a story for The Charlotte Observer about a rapidly growing megachurch on the south side of town. Yes, there were megachurches back then. In fact, there were already academics studying the factors that turned ordinary churches into megachurches.

Hang in there with me, because I’m working my way to the topic at the heart of this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in), which focuses on the New York Times coverage of the fall of that hip Hillsong preacher in New York City.

Anyway, this Charlotte church was fascinating because it had strong Presbyterian roots and its creation was linked to splits that were already taking place in the world of mainline Protestantism. This was not a rock-band-and-lasers church. It was offering conservative Reformed-Calvinist thought with a style that a bit more suburban than your ordinary Presbyterian congregation.

It was clear, at least to me, that the preaching was the key to this story. This was a mainline-esque church where they were still talking about salvation, sin, heaven and hell — all in a dramatic, but intelligent way. So I ended my long feature story with a big chunk of a sermon, built on images of heaven and the end of all things. This led into an altar call and more people streaming forward to join the church.

That works, when you’re in Billy Graham’s hometown. Bit didn’t work for a key editor. One newsroom wit once said that this particular journalist “grew up Unitarian, but then he backslid.” He wanted that ending removed. I stood my ground and — here’s the point — argued that what this church was proclaiming, in terms of doctrine and faith, was a crucial element in its success. This wasn’t just a story about politics, real estate and zoning laws. The editor just couldn’t GET IT. A short version of the ending made it into print.

So back to Hillsong. During the five years that I did some part-time teaching in New York City (on the ground there eight weeks or so, each year), I had lots of students who went to Hillsong. They talked about the music. They talked a lot about the preaching. Yes, they talked about the excitement of being in that crowd and feeling like they were part of all that.

It was clear to me that this Hillsong operation — in the world’s Alpha City — was a big story.

The journalism question is this: To what degree should the faith content at Hillsong, and even the DNA of sermons by the Rev. Carl Lentz, play a significant part of a story about Hillsong NYC and the scandal that took down its leader?


Please respect our Commenting Policy

Old questions about megachurch authority: New York Times dips into Hillsong sins

What brand of Christianity is offered at Hillsong Church? Does that matter?

Basically, it’s a slightly tamed version of evangelical Christianity, blended with Gen X pop-rock music, delivered by talented preachers with tattoos and ripped jeans. And then there are the celebrities who show up from time to time — which really helps create viral social-media stuff.

That’s the formula readers encounter in a must-read New York Times feature that ran the other day, when what was already an important story about evangelicals in the Big Apple gained the kind of editorial punch provided by sex, scandal and ties to Justin Bieber. Here’s the double-decker headline on this latest story by religion-beat pro Ruth Graham:

The Rise and Fall of Carl Lentz, the Celebrity Pastor of Hillsong Church

A charismatic pastor helped build a megachurch favored by star athletes and entertainers — until some temptations became too much to resist.

All of the glamour and celebrity details are important and valid. However, there is another angle of this story that is totally missing. The words “Assemblies of God” do not appear anywhere in this lengthy Times feature.

Truth is, Hillsong grew out of the Assemblies of God, an important Pentecostal and charismatic Christian flock with about 70 million members around the world. And why did Hillsong cut its ties to the Assemblies, other than a yearning for independence from denominational authorities and perhaps to erase a some bad memories?

Hold that thought, because we will come back to it. Here is a crucial chunk of summary material containing the important themes that provide the structure for this Times piece:

Even in the contemporary era of megachurches, Hillsong stands apart. Founded in Australia under a different name in the 1980s, its great innovation was to offer urban Christians a religious environment that did not clash with the rest of their lives.

At a time when many Americans have abandoned regular churchgoing, Hillsong attracts thousands of young churchgoers through soaring music and upbeat preaching. If anything, it is cooler than everyday life, with celebrities like the actor and singer Selena Gomez and the N.B.A. star Kevin Durant showing up at Sunday services.

By now, Hillsong is not just a church, but a brand.


Please respect our Commenting Policy

Question for 2020: Can Episcopal clergy consecrate bread and wine through the Internet?

Question for 2020: Can Episcopal clergy consecrate bread and wine through the Internet?

In the late 1970s, the Episcopal Ad Project began releasing spots taking shots at television preachers and other trends in American evangelicalism.

One image showed a television serving as an altar, holding a priest's stole, a chalice and plate of Eucharistic hosts. The headline asked: "With all due regard to TV Christianity, have you ever seen a Sony that gives Holy Communion?"

Now some Anglicans are debating whether it's valid -- during the coronavirus crisis -- to celebrate "virtual Eucharists," with computers linking priests at altars and communicants with their own bread and wine at home.

In a recent House of Bishops meeting -- online, of course -- Episcopal Church leaders backed away from allowing what many call "Virtual Holy Eucharist."

Episcopal News Service said bishops met in private small groups to discuss if it's "theologically sound to allow Episcopalians to gather separately and receive Communion that has been consecrated by a priest remotely during an online service."

Experiments had already begun, in some Zip codes. In April, Bishop Jacob Owensby of the Diocese of Western Louisiana encouraged such rites among "Priests who have the technical know-how, the equipment and the inclination" to proceed.

People at home, he wrote, will "provide for themselves bread and wine (bread alone is also permissible) and place it on a table in front of them. The priest's consecration of elements in front of her or him extends to the bread and wine in each … household. The people will consume the consecrated elements."

Days later, after consulting with America's presiding bishop," Bishop Owensby rescinded those instructions. "I understand that virtual consecration of elements at a physical or geographical distance from the Altar exceeds the recognized bounds set by our rubrics and inscribed in our theology of the Eucharist," he wrote.

However, similar debates were already taking place among other Anglicans. In Australia, for example, Archbishop Glenn Davies of Sydney urged priests to be creative during this pandemic, while churches were being forced to shut their doors.

During a live-streamed rite, he wrote, parishioners "could participate in their own homes via the internet consuming their own bread and wine, in accordance with our Lord's command."


Please respect our Commenting Policy

Court frees Cardinal Pell: Washington Post offers basic journalism. And the New York Times?

This will be a very simple post about a very complicated religion-news story.

I am referring to the news that lit up Twitter the other day, when the news broke that Australia’s highest court had — with a 7-0 vote — overturned controversial (I need a stronger word) decisions by two lower courts convicting Cardinal George Pell of sexually assaulting two choirboys at the Melbourne cathedral in the 1990s.

I will not attempt to hash out the many ways that the secret nature of these Aussie court proceedings affected the news coverage. I will not discuss the details of the victim’s testimony against Pell and whether it was possible for a bishop, wearing many layers of thick, complicated vestments and almost certainly accompanied by an aide, to have committed these crimes in a public place.

No, my goal here is to contrast the journalism in two elite-media reports — in The Washington Post and then The New York Times — about this final court decision, which set Pell free and unleashed hurricanes of online arguments (yet again).

In terms of journalism, what is the essential difference between these two stories?

First, let’s look at the Post story, which ran with this headline: “Cardinal George Pell is released from prison after court quashes sexual abuse conviction.” If you read this story, you will find several passages like this:

In a written statement, Pell said he felt no ill will toward his accuser and did not want his acquittal to add to the bitterness in the community.

"There is certainly hurt and bitterness enough," he said. "However, my trial was not a referendum on the Catholic Church, nor a referendum on how church authorities in Australia dealt with the crime of pedophilia in the church.

"The point was whether I had committed these awful crimes, and I did not."

Readers will also read passages like this one:

The decision is likely to upset Pell's many detractors, who hold him responsible not just for the alleged assault on the choirboys but for the broader record of the Catholic Church in Australia, where some 4,444 people reported being abused in recent decades, according to an official inquiry. Their average age was about 11 years old.


Please respect our Commenting Policy