GetReligion
Thursday, April 03, 2025

megachurches

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New podcast: Yes, election of first trans/queer/gender fluid ELCA bishop was a big story

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New podcast: Yes, election of first trans/queer/gender fluid ELCA bishop was a big story

Imagine that you are a pastor or a layperson in the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod or one of the other conservative Lutheran bodies in the United States.

So you sit down with your morning coffee and pop open your email and you see that friends and family have sent you emails enquiring about a headline that they saw on Twitter or somewhere else in today’s complicated news marketplace.

In this case, the headline is from the New York Times and it states: “U.S. Lutheran Church Elects Its First Openly Transgender Bishop.”

The problem, of course, is that the “U.S. Lutheran Church” doesn’t exist There is no one denomination that fits that description. Or perhaps the person sending you the email saw, somewhere, the Religion News Service headline that ran with this headline: “Lutherans elect Megan Rohrer first transgender bishop.” Second verse, same as the first.

When it comes to Lutheranism, many journalists continue to struggle when describing who is who and what is what. This brand-name problem was the first layer of the complex issues — in terms of church doctrine and journalism style — that we explored in this week’s “Crossroads” podcast. Click here to tune that in.

The denomination that elected Bishop-elect Rohrer was, of course, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, one of the “Seven Sisters” — we may need to make that “Seven Siblings” — of liberal Protestantism.

But what happens if you put that denominational brand name in a headline (besides the fact that it’s way too long for most newspaper layouts)? If you do that, you have to explain the presence of “evangelical,” which has become a near curse word in a news context. And, hey, “Lutheran” by itself sounds more important. Damn the accuracy, full speed ahead.

This brings us to the key hook for this podcast: There was little or nothing surprising about the progressive ELCA electing a trans (if that is the best term, in this case) bishop.


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In the age of COVID-19, it's impossible for clergy to avoid wrestling with the internet

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In the age of COVID-19, it's impossible for clergy to avoid wrestling with the internet

Even before the coronavirus crisis, this question haunted pastors: What in God's name are we supposed to do with the internet?

American clergy aren't the only ones wrestling with this puzzle. Consider this advice – from Moscow – about online personality cults.

"A priest, sometimes very young, begins to think that he is an experienced pastor – so many subscribers! – able to answer the many questions that come to him in virtual reality," noted Patriarch Kirill, leader of the Russian Orthodox Church, at a recent diocesan conference. "Such clerics often lose the ability to accept any criticism, and not only on the internet, or respond to objections with endless arguments."

Pastors eventually have to ask, he added, if their online work is leading people through parish doors and into face-to-face faith communities.

"That is the question of the hour, for sure," said Savannah Kimberlin, director of published research for the Barna Group. Recent surveys have convinced Barna researchers that "the future church will be a blend of digital and in-person work. But it's up to us to decide what that will look like. …

"But isn't that true of our society as a whole? There are digital solutions for so many issues in our lives, right now. … But we can also see people yearning for more than that – for experiences of contact with others in a community."

In a recent survey, 81% of churchgoing adults affirmed that "experiencing God alongside others" was very important to them, she said. At the same time, a majority of those surveyed said they hoped their congregations would continue some forms of online ministry in the future.

Similar paradoxes emerge when researchers studied evangelistic efforts to reach people who are "unchurched" or completely disconnected from religious institutions.

Half of all unchurched adults (52%), along with 73% of non-Christians, said they are not interested in invitations to church activities. However, a new Barna survey -- cooperating with Alpha USA, a nondenominational outreach group – found that 41% of non-Christians said they were open to "spiritual conversations about Christianity" if the setting felt friendly.

Online forums and streamed events – experienced at home, with viewers in control – may offer some newcomers the flexibility and "safety" that they want.


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Religious leaders facing complicated choices during complex 2020 COVID-tide

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Religious leaders facing complicated choices during complex 2020 COVID-tide

Rather than preparing for a joyous Christmastide, believers are making tough decisions about how to celebrate during a season some call COVID-tide.

What about that beloved Christmas cantata or children's pageant? Government regulations about singing vary nationwide.

All those parties and dinners on the December calendar? Church officials may shut them down or, perhaps, look the other way.

The most emotional question: What about Christmas Eve, with glowing sanctuaries full of families gathered from near and afar dressed in festive holiday attire? In most churches some members will be allowed inside, while others stay home – as during 2020's Holy Week and Easter – holding candles while facing computer screens.

No one knows what will happen, especially in Protestant flocks where holiday traditions are more flexible and evolve from year to year.

Nevertheless, about 50% of American adults who typically go to church at Christmas hope to do so, according to a study by LifeWay Research in Nashville. In fact, another 15% of participants in the online survey said they were more likely to attend a service this year. However, 35% of typical churchgoers said they're more likely to stay home.

"About 50% of America are saying, 'We're going to do what we're going to do,' " said Tim McConnell, LifeWay's executive director. Since this survey was done before the recent coronavirus spike, "that makes things even more unpredictable" than they were already.

The survey results seem deceptively ordinary, but tensions emerge in key details. The survey focused on believers, and the unchurched, but included an oversample of self-identified evangelical Protestants.

"It's easy to look at these numbers and see that half the people say they will be having Christmas as usual. Then there's another group of people who say they plan to do even more," he said. "Then you look at the bigger picture and there's that other third that's missing. That's probably the large group of Americans who are older and at higher risk. …

“That's some important people in our families and churches – like grandparents. That's some important people who are not going to be having a normal Christmas, whatever 'normal' means right now."


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Trump calls COVID-19 vaccine 'medical miracle;' some religious believers remain skeptical

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“A medical miracle.”

In a Friday night video, that’s how President Donald Trump characterized the first COVID-19 vaccine approved by the U.S. government.

“We have delivered a safe and effective vaccine in just nine months,” Trump said. “This is one of the greatest scientific accomplishments in history.”

But as the New York Times’ Simon Romero and Miriam Jordan note, “A vast majority of people will need to be vaccinated to create a decisive decline in infections.”

However, “only about half of Americans are ready to roll up their sleeves when their turn comes,” report The Associated Press’ Lauran Neergaard and Hannah Fingerhut.

What’s religion got to do with it? (A lot, actually.)

The Times article features a Mississippi pastor named Adam Wyatt who enrolled in a vaccine trial after one of his congregants died of the virus:

Mr. Wyatt views hospital visits as one of his most important obligations as a pastor, and recalls feeling helpless as he gathered with the congregant’s family in a hospital parking lot, barred from entry by pandemic precautions.

But Mr. Wyatt, 38, did not tell many people about his decision afterward to enroll in the trial in Hattiesburg, about an hour’s drive west of his small town. “You hear, ‘This vaccine is the mark of the beast, don’t get this, it’s Bill Gates’s population control, you’ll get the microchips in you,’” he said. “A lot of my folks probably won’t get it.”

Meanwhile, Washington Post religion writer Sarah Pulliam Bailey traveled to Houston to talk to a pastor whose life depends on the vaccine but who faces skeptics within his own church.


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

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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?


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

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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.


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Pastor John MacArthur and California church closings: Why isn't this a national story?

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One of the more interesting church-state fights during this COVID-19 crisis has been one involving Grace Community Church in Sun Valley, a suburb of Los Angeles. John MacArthur, its 81-year-old revered pastor, has become an unlikely government foe during this time, as he’s refused to close down his church all along.

Readers may recall that I wrote about him a year ago when he told noted Southern Baptist Bible study leader Beth Moore to “go home.”

Yes, that guy. Coverage has been spotty at best, although this is not necessarily reporters’ fault. The church isn’t known for answering media calls. When I tried contacting them this past summer, I got the cold shoulder as well.

That said, a lot more reporting is needed on why California has the strictest restrictions in the country against indoor church services — to the point that even the Catholics are rebelling. In September, San Francisco Archbishop Salvatore Cordileone organized a “free the Mass” event involving three eucharistic processions that first went to city hall, then to the Cathedral of St. Mary of the Assumption where the archbishop held an outdoor Mass.

Indoor worship services are banned in California, a state of megachurches. You don’t have to be a religion expert to know that restriction wasn’t going to fly, especially when stores and other businesses had no similar restrictions. Outdoor rites? California may have more sunny weather than many other states, but it still gets cold there.

It’s been very confusing to figure out what's going on with this church, as the story resembles a large elephant that appears differently depending on the observer. For instance, the Christian Post says that Grace Community had been released of all restrictions.

Public health officials in Los Angeles have lifted all outbreak-related requirements and restrictions on Grace Community Church, which were put in place last month after three cases connected to the California church were confirmed.

“We are glad to announce that we received a notice from the Los Angeles County Department of Public Health … saying that we have been cleared of COVID-19 outbreak,” the church says on its website.


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New podcast: Yes, it will be big news if COVID-19 closes 20% of America's churches

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New podcast: Yes, it will be big news if COVID-19 closes 20% of America's churches

This week’s “Crossroads” podcast — click here to tune that in — starts with a rather obvious question linked to the coronavirus crisis.

The question: Would it be a major news story if 20% or more of America’s religious congregations were forced to shut down during the next 12-18 months?

Clearly that would be a huge development in American life — not just on the religion-news beat. On top of that, it would be a story that would almost certainly unfold in every zip code in America. There would be newsworthy hooks at the local, regional and national levels.

What kinds of stories?

Hold that thought.

The hook for this week’s discussion was my latest “On Religion” column for the Universal syndicate, which grew out of recent comments by David Kinnaman, the leader of the Barna Group — which does polling and research with a variety of churches and denominations.

Here is a key passage:

The question religious leaders are asking, of course, is how many people will return to their pews when "normal" life returns. But it may be several years before high-risk older believers decide it's safe to return, even after vaccines become available. Younger members may keep watching their own local services, switch to high-profile digital flocks elsewhere or do both.

In talks with clients, Kinnaman said he is hearing denominational leaders and clergy say they believe that, in the next year or so, some churches will simply close their doors. Early in the pandemic the percentage of insiders telling Barna researchers they were "highly confident" their churches would survive was "in the high 70s," he said.

"Now it's in the 50s. … Most churches are doing OK, for now. But there's a segment that's really struggling and taking a hit, week after week."

After reviewing several kinds of research – including patterns in finances and attendance – Kinnaman sent a shockwave through social-media channels with his recent prediction that one in five churches will close in the next 18 months. In "mainline" churches, he is convinced this number will be one in three, in part because these rapidly aging Protestant denominations have lost millions of members -- some up to 50% -- since the 1960s.

These mainline churches are the “Seven Sisters” of progressive Protestantism. In descending order, by size, that would be the United Methodist Church, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), the Episcopal Church, the American Baptist Churches USA, the United Church of Christ and the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).


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Washington Post shows (again) how to cover both Liberty University and Jerry Falwell, Jr.

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Did you read the very interesting comments that the Rev. Jonathan Falwell made in this fall’s first campus-wide convocation last week at Liberty University?

This was, of course, the first symbolic gathering of this kind after the scandalous fall of Jerry Falwell Jr., as Liberty’s president. So this was a logical event for reporters to stream online. Well, it was a logical reporting decision for journalists who are interested in Liberty’s future, as well as the Jerry Jr. scandal and its potential impact on Donald Trump.

If you want to read the Jonathan Falwell comments, just about the only place to find them is The Washington Post, which continues to cover the scandal’s higher education angle — specifically Christian higher-education — with a strong team of religion-beat pros and an education-beat specialist. The contents of their latest must-read story — “After Jerry Falwell Jr.’s departure, Liberty University faces questions about faith, power, accountability” — show the journalistic wisdom of this approach.

After noting a short plug for Jerry Falwell Jr., and his role as the builder of the current campus, the acting president — the Rev. Jerry Prevo of Alaska — pledged that Liberty’s remaining leaders are committed to the school’s spiritual and academic mission. That set up this:

Then Jonathan Falwell, pastor of the Liberty-affiliated Thomas Road Baptist Church, spoke. He did not mention his brother by name. But he told his audience, in Lynchburg, Va., and around the globe: “So many times we see Christians that are more focused on building their own brand than they are about building the kingdom of God.”

There are a lot of universities out there, Jonathan Falwell said, but Liberty is different: It was built to change the world with the gospel. He urged students to be faithful, trust God and avoid temptation.

Some students who heard the two men said the convocation highlighted a key tension at their school. They felt that Prevo was elevating the former president because of his transformation of the university and that Jonathan Falwell was elevating the Christian values they shared.


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