New religion census: That means more numbers, more maps and more hooks for news stories

It’s always a fun day when one of my trusted sources publishes some new raw data that I can use to better understand the religious and political world of the United States. That’s doubly true when it’s something other than survey data because it allows me to make data visualizations that are a bit different than the run of the mill bar and line graphs.

Earlier this month the Association of Statisticians of American Religion Bodies released the results of their 2020 Religion Census, which is a one of a kind dataset. Every 10 years, this very capable research team tracks religious organizations all the way down to the county level — which is a granularity that is astonishing.

For example, most surveys would be lucky to give you a sample that is large enough to understand religion at the state level. So, to have access to county level data unlocks thousands of possibilities.

This is the kind of detail that helps researchers — and journalists — look for news trends at the local and regional levels. There are news stories hidden in these numbers. The key is spotting them.

So, with that in mind, I took to map-making the last few weeks. I think that there’s a lot of surprising results in this new data.

Where is religion the most concentrated in the United States? Probably not where most people would guess.

According to data from the 2020 Religion Census, there’s obviously a strong pocket of believers in the Bible Belt — that isn’t surprising.

Life in a disenchanted world: Once upon a time, Christians used to write fairy stories

Demons appear on movie screens all the time, but poet Richard Rohlin is convinced he has actually seen them at work when counseling young people whose search for meaning has driven them deep into experiments with sex, drugs and the occult.

"The stories that I can't tell would curl your toenails," he said, speaking at the Eighth Day Institute in Wichita, Kansas. "If you think that these spiritual realities are not still with us, you are deluding yourself. ... The magic is coming back into the world. Something is happening and it is not an unqualified good."

The young people he works with in Dallas are not interested in sermons and detailed descriptions of why their lives are broken. But they are open to fantasies, myths and tales -- ancient and modern -- about unseen, spiritual realities that interact with their lives.

Millions of Americans know where to find stories about angels, demons, warriors, seers, giants, demigods and heroic kings and queens. They head straight to movie theaters and cable television, where they find entire universes of content offering visions of fantastic worlds. The last place they would seek inspiration of this kind is in churches.

The irony is that some of these works draw inspiration from the fantasy classics celebrated in the ecumenical Eighth Day Institute's annual fall celebration of The Inklings, a mid-20th Century circle of Christian writers in Oxford, England, that included C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and others.

This year's lectures focused on Scottish writer George MacDonald, often called the "grandfather of the Inklings," who is best known for "Phantastes," "The Golden Key," "Lilith" and many other works. The festival included Celtic and folk musicians, along with workshops on topics such as "The Art of Making Mead" and "Publishing for the Moral Imagination."

The goal of MacDonald and The Inklings, noted Rohlin, was to reclaim an older vision of life in which physical realities corresponded to spiritual realities and nothing was considered purely material. The real divide was between "the seen and the unseen," not between the "spiritual and the material."

This worldview has been lost, even among many religious believers.

"Demons didn't stop existing, angels didn't stop existing, the saints didn't stop existing because the Industrial Revolution came," he said.