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Saturday, March 29, 2025

LifeWay Research

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Plug-In: Has Nashville become the 'new frontier' of today's religion news universe?

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Plug-In: Has Nashville become the 'new frontier' of today's religion news universe?

Twenty years ago, I moved to Nashville, Tennessee, to work for The Associated Press.

I spent less than a year in Music City before transferring to Dallas, but oh, what a fun 11 months for a religion reporter (and country music fan).

I covered the fight over a proposed Tennessee lottery and a prayer service on the night the Iraq War began, but some of my favorite stories were less weighty:

• A profile of a man who paid children $10 each to learn the Ten Commandments (until 15,000 “memorization affidavits” from across the nation flooded his mailbox after my story ran).

• A feature on Gospel Music Week, when some of Nashville’s most popular bars and nightspots traded lying-and-cheating songs for hymns about prayer and redemption.

• An interview with the 104-year-old widow of a famous Black traveling evangelist.

Blame Liam Adams, The Tennessean’s religion reporter, for this trip down memory lane.

In a fascinating deep dive published this week, Adams and his colleague Cole Villena delve into “Williamson County, the suburban ‘new frontier’ for American evangelical Christianity.”

“An already heavily Christian area is on track to become a capital of evangelicalism in the U.S.,” the story asserts, referring to the fast-growing county south of Nashville.

I pointed out to Adams on Twitter that my family lived in Williamson County — Spring Hill, to be precise — in our brief time in the Nashville area.

“All religion reporting roads lead through greater Nashville apparently,” chimed in Christianity Today’s Kate Shellnutt, herself a former Nashville resident.


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In post-pandemic America, will sagging church health damage public health? 

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In post-pandemic America, will sagging church health damage public health? 

America's religious congregations have, over all, suffered steady erosion in attendance, membership and vitality since around 2000.

Analysts fret that worse may occur after the current COVID-19 emergency finally subsides because myriads of members are now accustomed to worshiping online rather than in person or they may skip services altogether.

At the same time, there is evidence that, while decline is common, a majority of congregations report that they have survived or even grown during the past two years. This is a complex subject. As a recent Associated Press story noted:

Gifts to religious organizations grew by 1% to just over $131 billion in 2020, a year when Americans also donated a record $471 billion overall to charity, according to an annual report by GivingUSA. Separately, a September survey of 1,000 protestant pastors by the evangelical firm Lifeway Research found about half of congregations received roughly what they budgeted for last year, with 27% getting less than anticipated and 22% getting more.

This is an important news topic, no matter what. Even secularized news consumers should be interested when social science researchers tell us that sagging participation could not just damage religious institutions but create a public health "crisis." In our age of solitary, do-it-yourself forms of spirituality, research indicates, regular in-person attendance at worship services is central to the well-being of children, adults and society.

This important assertion does not come from religious propagandists but Harvard's Institute for Quantitative Social Science. Building upon two decades of scholarship, the institute in 2016 launched its distinctive "Human Flourishing Project" to focus on the impact the family, workplace, education and religion have on peoples' well-being. Their survey samples are large and they say their methodology improves upon past research.

Key findings document differences between Americans who regularly attend worship versus those who never attend.


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Ask this: Why did many flocks survive or thrive in pandemic, while others were hit hard?

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Ask this: Why did many flocks survive or thrive in pandemic, while others were hit hard?

Does anyone remember typewriters?

Long ago, I took my very first reporting class at Baylor University. The legendary Jprof David McHam ran this lab as a mini-newsroom. McHam would sit in the “slot” of a U-shaped desk, working with students as we turned in our rough drafts.

I heard him say this many times: “The story is all here, but you wrote it in the wrong order,” or words to that effect. McHam would take his copy-desk pica pole (the birthday cake cutter of choice in newsrooms) and rip our typewriter copy into multiple horizontal pieces, before putting them in a new order, secured with a long strip of clear tape. Then he would say: “Go write the story in that order.”

More often than not, the wise Jprof found crucial information and pulled it higher in the story — if not into the lede itself. In many cases, this was information that created a tension with a simple version of the “news” in the lede. In other words, he was pushing us to acknowledge that many stories were more complex than we wanted to think they were.

With that in mind, let’s look at an important COVID-tide story from the Associated Press: “At many churches, pandemic hits collection plates, budgets.”

Note the word “many” in that headline. I think many readers would assume that the coronavirus pandemic has caused disasters in pews and pulpits and that is that. The evidence, in this story, is more complex than that — especially with a little bit of cutting and pasting. Here is the overture:

Biltmore United Methodist Church of Asheville, North Carolina, is for sale.

Already financially strapped because of shrinking membership and a struggling preschool, the congregation was dealt a crushing blow by the coronavirus. Attendance plummeted, with many staying home or switching to other churches that stayed open the whole time. Gone, too, is the revenue the church formerly got from renting its space for events and meetings.


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So what is 'Christmas,' anyway? These days, Siri knows more than many believers

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So what is 'Christmas,' anyway? These days, Siri knows more than many believers

This question rocks the Internet year after year: Is "Die Hard" a "Christmas movie"?

How about "Frosty the Snowman," "Home Alone," "Elf" or "A Bad Moms Christmas"? Is "A Christmas Story" really a "Christmas" story? What about those Hallmark Channel visions of romance, complicated families and wall-to-wall holiday decorations?

The answer to these questions, and many others, hinges on how Americans answer another question: What is "Christmas"?

Ask that question to an iPhone and Siri will quote Wikipedia: "Christmas is an annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, observed primarily on December 25 as a religious and cultural celebration among billions of people around the world."

Most people know that much of the story, according to a new survey by Lifeway Research in Nashville. Nearly 75% of Americans say Jesus was born more than 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem and even more believe that Jesus is the Son of God the Father.

After that, things get fuzzy.

"Lots of people celebrate Christmas, but some have no interest in celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ," said Scott McConnell, executive director of Lifeway. "But even some of the people who do take the Christmas message seriously don't understand what it means. …

"This is a story that hasn't changed for 2,000 years, yet many people struggle to tell the story and get the details right. Many don't know why Jesus was born."


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Plug-In: Minichurches and burned-out pastors -- four crucial COVID-19 trends to follow

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Plug-In: Minichurches and burned-out pastors -- four crucial COVID-19 trends to follow

COVID-19 rages on.

So does the pandemic’s big impact on American religion.

From in-person attendance declining to pastors burning out, here are four related trends to watch:

(1) Churches changed during the pandemic and many aren’t going back (by Janet Adamy, Wall Street Journal)

“The number of churchgoers has steadily dropped in the U.S. over the past few decades,” Adamy reports. “But Covid-19 and its lockdown restrictions accelerated that fall. In-person church attendance is roughly 30% to 50% lower than it was before the pandemic, estimates Barna Group, a research firm that studies faith in the U.S.”

(2) Why the minichurch is the latest trend in American religion (by Bob Smietana, Religion News Service)

Smietana profiles a small church in Wisconsin, noting, “Cornerstone is part of the fastest-growing group of congregations in America: the minichurch. According to the recently released Faith Communities Today study, half of the congregations in the United States have 65 people or fewer, while two-thirds of congregations have fewer than 100.”

(3) The pastors aren’t all right: 38% consider leaving ministry (by Kate Shellnutt, Christianity Today)

“Pastoral burnout has worsened during the pandemic,” Shellnutt explains. “A Barna Group survey released (this week) found that 38 percent of pastors are seriously considering leaving full-time ministry, up from 29 percent in January.”

See related coverage from the Washington Times, by former GetReligionista Mark A. Kellner.

(4) Most churches find financial stability in 2021 (by Aaron Earls, Lifeway Research)

“Emerging from the pandemic, most churches don’t seem to be underwater financially, but many are treading water,” Earls reports.


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Once again, journalists need to ponder this question: What is an 'evangelical'?

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Once again, journalists need to ponder this question: What is an 'evangelical'?

THE QUESTION:

One more time: What is an "evangelical"?

THE RELIGION GUY'S ANSWER:

Last month the Public Religion Research Institute reported that its latest polling shows white U.S. Protestants who identify as "evangelical" are now outnumbered by whites who do not do so. That upended the usual thinking on numbers, and analysts raised doubts. The discussion led Terry Shoemaker of Arizona State University, writing for theconversaation.com, to again mull the perennial question of what "evangelical" means.

In the American context, this term essentially covers the conservative wing of Protestantism, a variegated constellation of denominations, independent congregations, "parachurch" ministries, media outlets, and individual personalities that is organizationally scattered but religiously coherent.

There are three ways of defining and counting U.S. evangelicals – by belief, by church affiliation and by self-identification. Shoemaker's analysis (which is open to some nitpicking) started from the belief aspect and a four-point definition by historian David Bebbington in his 1989 work "Evangelicalism in Modern Britain." In summary, these points are:

(1) a high view of the Bible as Christians' ultimate authority,

(2) emphasis on Jesus Christ's work of salvation on the cross,

(3) the necessity of conscious personal faith commitments and changed lives (often called the "born again" experience) and

(4) activism in person-to-person evangelism, missions and moral reform.

Problem is, those four points overlap with the definition of "Protestant" or even "Christian."


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New podcast: 'Screen' culture tied to loneliness; can clergy build bridges with same tech?

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New podcast: 'Screen' culture tied to loneliness; can clergy build bridges with same tech?

The coronavirus pandemic has created a wide variety of religion-beat stories — from empty local pews to the U.S. Supreme Court debating how many people can occupy local pews. And sometimes it feels like all roads during this crisis, for better or worse, lead to the internet.

Yes, we had lots of ground to cover in this week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in).

Empty local pews have, in some cases, led to near-empty offering plates. Leaders in religious groups that were struggling before COVID-19 — look for closing congregations, seminaries, colleges and even cathedrals — are now hearing the demographics clock tick, tick, tick even louder.

We’re talking about huge stories, but they are also stories that are hard for journalists to cover, simply because they require information at the local, regional and national levels.

It was easy to cover local clergypersons as they learned to mount smartphones atop camera tripods and stream worship services to their locked-down flocks (as opposed to megachurches that already had cameras and massive websites). It was also easier to cover black-sheep clergy that rebelled against social-distancing guidelines than it was to report on the remarkable efforts of leaders in entire denominations and religious traditions seek ways for their people to worship as best they could within constantly evolving (and often hostile) government guidelines.

Journalists, of course, were also being affected by lockdowns and, in some cases, budget cuts. This was an equal-opportunity crisis.

Let me give you an example of an important story that everyone knows is unfolding right now. Consider this Baptist Press headline: “Pandemic division causing pastors to leave ministry, pastoral mentor says.” Here is the overture:

Brian Croft jokes that masks are the new “color of the carpet argument” in churches, with similarly poor outcomes. Pastors are resigning from the stress “kind of in a way I’ve never really seen.”

The founder of Practical Shepherding transitioned from fulltime pastoring to lead the shepherding outreach fulltime in January, pulled by a need for coaching and counseling that has steadily increased among pastors over the past decade.

Then came COVID-19.


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Protestants in pulpits say that the QAnon era is creating tension in many pews

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Protestants in pulpits say that the QAnon era is creating tension in many pews

Having reached the vice president's chair in the U.S. Senate, the self-proclaimed QAnon shaman, UFO expert and metaphysical healer removed his coyote-skin and buffalo horns headdress and announced, with a megaphone, that it was time to pray.

"Thank you, Heavenly Father … for this opportunity to stand up for our God-given inalienable rights," proclaimed Jake "Yellowstone Wolf" Angeli (born Jacob Chansley), his face painted red, white and blue and his torso tattooed with Norse symbols that his critics link to the extreme right.

“Thank you, divine, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent Creator God for filling this chamber with your white light and love," he added, in a prayer captured on video by correspondent working for The New Yorker. "Thank you for filling this chamber with patriots that love you and that love Christ. …

"Thank you, divine Creator God for surrounding and filling us with the divine, omnipresent white light of love and protection, of peace and harmony. Thank you for allowing the United States of America to be reborn. Thank you for allowing us to get rid of the communists, the globalists and the traitors within our government."

Many phrases in this rambling prayer would sound familiar to worshippers in ordinary churches across America, said Joe Carter, an editor with The Gospel Coalition and a pastor with McLean Bible Church near Washington, D.C. But the prayer also included strange twists and turns that betrayed some extreme influences and agendas.

"This is a man who has described himself as pagan, as an ordained minister, in fact," said Carter, reached by telephone. "The alt-right has always included some pagan influences. But now it's obvious that leaders with QAnon and other conspiracy theorists have learned that if they toss in some Christian imagery, then they'll really expand their base and their potential reach 100-fold."

Law-enforcement officials will soon present evidence attempting to prove who planned key elements of the illegal riot that crashed into the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6, after the legal "March to Save America" backing former President Donald Trump's claim that fraud cost him the White House.

This is just the latest example of how conspiracy theories, on the left and right, have soaked into public discourse about COVID-19 vaccines, Big Tech monopolies, sinister human-trafficking networks and, of course, alleged illegal activities in the 2016 and 2020 elections.

There is no way to deny that this digital tornado has shaken many Protestant churches, according to a new Lifeway Research survey that asked clergy to respond to this statement: "I frequently hear members of my congregation repeating conspiracy theories they have heard about why something is happening in our country."


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New podcast: Conspiracy theory news isn't going away, so how will religious leaders respond?

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New podcast: Conspiracy theory news isn't going away, so how will religious leaders respond?

Here we go again. This week’s “Crossroads” podcast (click here to tune that in) offers yet another journey into the world of QAnon and its impact in American pews.

All the evidence is that this subject is not going away, even as it gets more complex. See this week’s post entitled, “The New York Times looks at QAnon leader who is, wait, a Manhattan mystic from Harvard?” Some interesting court trials loom ahead, no doubt, after the January 6th riot at the U.S. Capitol.

Still, if you were looking for a thesis statement that captures how elite American newsrooms view QAnon, and the red-hot topic of conspiracy theories in general, it would be a bite of revealed truth drawn from the must-read “Shadowlands” package published last June by The Atlantic. In “The Prophecies of Q,” author Adrienne LaFrance claimed that QAnon is an emerging sect that is defined by its evangelical hopes and dreams, since the “language of evangelical Christianity has come to define the Q movement.”

In a GetReligion post at the time (“The Atlantic probes QAnon sect and finds (#shocking) another evangelical-ish conspiracy“) I offered my own opinion on that:

There are times, when reading the sprawling “Shadowland” package … when one is tempted to think that the goal was to weave a massive liberal conspiracy theory about the role that conservative conspiracy theories play in Donald Trump’s America.

At the center of this drama — of course — is evangelical Christianity. After all, evangelical Christians are to blame for Trump’s victory, even if they didn’t swing all those crucial states in the Catholic-labor Rust Belt.

It’s almost as if evangelicals are playing, for some strategic minds on the left, the same sick, oversized role in American life that some evangelicals assign to Hillary Clinton, George Soros, Bill Gates and all those liberal Southern Baptist intellectuals who love Johnny Cash and Jane Austen.

That’s still half of what I think on this topic.

It is certainly true that (a) leaders of the “political cult” called QAnon — to use a term from a must-read Joe Carter FAQ on this topic — speak fluent evangelical and that (b) the gospel according to Q and similar conspiracy heresies have influenced many people in pews (including some who traveled to the National Mall for Trump’s March to Save America rally).

That’s an important, ongoing story that must be covered.


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