Media, Mormonism and meaning

I think it’s fair to say that while Mitt Romney’s presidential candidacy has forced the media to do more and better coverage of Mormonism, the religion is still treated as a cultural and theological oddity. Much of the coverage is still sensational — as I type this, The Daily Beast is hyping an interview with “a direct descendant of Brigham Young, Sue Emmett [who] left the church because of the very values she says would make Romney a frightening president.” I hate to break it to The Daily Beast, but Brigham Young had 55 wives and 57 children. A gathering of his third generation descendents would look like Calcutta on Free Malaria Shot Day. Finding one of them who would disavow Mitt Romney and their great-great grandfather’s legacy is a matter of simple probability, and it’s neither novel or illuminating.

Tabloids aside, I wish I could say that the coverage from respectable outlets was automatically better. But it was with dread that I learned that The New Yorker had published a sweeping essay about “Mormonism and its meanings.” While The New Yorker is largely an outlet for criticism and opinion, the magazine carries with it a totemic status among my fellow reporters — even those I know who largely disagree with its center-left politics — and often sets the tone for any future coverage by the rest of the media establishment once it’s weighed in on a given issue.

Making matters worse, the essay in question is written by Adam Gopnik. Gopnik is a very witty and perceptive writer; however, if anyone on the masthead perfectly embodies cocooned Manhattan liberalism, it’s Gopnik. I suppose the fact that Gopnik’s fellow Manhattan literary stereotypes feel comfortable inveighing against him as “tone-poet of post-9/11 Manhattan, drizzling pixie dust across a cityscape that no longer bears the hearty flavor of ‘smoked mozzarella,’ as he notoriously described the downtown death smell,” that should tell you something. Indeed, take a gander at this nugget from Gopnik’s essay on Mormons. I think it is supposed to deemed amusing:

Walk by the Latter-day Saints church on the Upper East Side of New York, and you will see only images of Jesus and scenes from the Gospels, even if the Mormon Jesus looks more corn-fed and burly than the gaunt, ascetic one in the Protestant church around the corner. The continuing Mormon suspicion of Evangelicals, and the Evangelical hostility toward Mormons, could be politically significant only if the guy on the other side is a credible Evangelical, at least in emotional style. When the other guy is at best an intellectual and at worst an Arab, political solidarity is bound to trump inter-sectarian mistrust.

So, uh, that’s what we’re dealing with — a guy who’s personal experience with Mormonism doesn’t involve going below 59th street and who otherwise thinks huge swaths of religious America mistrust intellectuals. The fact this latter assertion is simultaneously condescending and grossly simplistic would seem to belie the soundness of Gopnik’s judgement here, let alone his status as an intellectual. To paraphrase an apocryphal Martin Luther line, I’m sure a lot of evangelicals and Mormons would gladly vote for a wise Turk who can get unemployment below 8 percent.

Now having said all that, I can’t easily dismiss Gopnik’s essay. That’s because Gopnik understands some nuances about Mormonism that I’ve seen repeatedly trip up other reporters. Here’s how he handles some of the church’s more controversial doctrines:

Mormonism had other assets. Smith held (especially in the sermons he preached toward the end of his life) that God and angels and men were all members of the same species. “God that sits enthroned is a man like one of you” and “God Himself was once as we are now, and is an exalted man” were two of his most emphatic aphorisms on the subject. …

This doctrine led in turn to various theological niceties, which seem to have risen and receded in the faith’s theology over the years: one is that the birth of Jesus had to have been the consequence of a “natural action”—i.e., that God the Father knew Mary in a carnal way, in order to produce the Messiah. (This doctrine is currently in disfavor, but it had a long life.) Another is that God, being an exalted man, must have a wife, or several wives, as men do; she is known as the Heavenly Mother, and is a being distinct from Mary. (Smith’s belief in exaltation evolved into the belief that other planets were inhabited by men even more exalted than we are; Smith taught that the truly exalted will get not just entry into Heaven but a planet of their own to run. This is now taken, or taught, metaphorically, the way conventional Christians often think of Hell, but it was part of the story.)

Again, LDS members might disagree with the tone here — but Gopnik at least grasps that there’s some tension here between the logical extension of some of the church’s doctrines and whether or not Mormons believe these things to literally be true. I’ve seen many writers just assume that Mormons believe a great many “rococo cosmologies” — as Gopnik calls them — said to be implied by Smith’s teachings without doing much to factor in the metaphorical and the mystical.

Gopnik also picks up on some odd cultural details that I found fascinating.  I didn’t know that artist Arnold Friberg, who did many of the iconic Book of Mormon illustrations, was the set designer for “The Ten Commandments.” And I’ll be darned, Gopnik’s right that Friberg’s depiction of Nephi — see the picture above — does look a lot like Romney. But Gopnik’s impressive powers of observation are constantly undercut by a breezy tone that’s entirely unwarranted. He treats weighty subjects so glibly that it borders on infuriating:

One could presumably make a case that beleaguered faiths always shy from admitting errancy in public. Dominant faiths can afford tales of failure and redemption, with sinners becoming saints and saints dropping in and out of the calendar like blue-plate specials; beleaguered ones have to put on a good face in public and never lose it. Donny Osmond talks about the anxieties that arose from a need to appear perfect, and the impossibility of admitting in public to flaws or errors. Better to have a new revelation about, say, health-care mandates that renders the previous one instantly inoperable than spend time apologizing for the old ways. When, in 1978, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints abandoned the rule prohibiting blacks from serving as priests, one church leader, Bruce McConkie, explained, “It doesn’t make a particle of difference what anybody ever said about the Negro matter before the first day of June 1978.” You could find, or think you’ve found, a similar logic behind Romney’s blithe amnesia when it comes to the things he used to think and say.

Yet class surely tells more than creed when it comes to American manners, and Romney is better understood as a late-twentieth-century American tycoon than as any kind of believer. Most of what is distinct about him seems specific to the rich managerial class of the nineteen-eighties and nineties, and is best explained so—just as you would grasp more about Jack Kennedy from F. Scott Fitzgerald (an Irish and a Catholic ascending to Wasp manners) than from St. Augustine. In another way, though, this is precisely where faith really does walk in, since commerce and belief seem complementary in Romney’s tradition. It’s just that this tradition is not merely Mormon. Joseph Smith’s strange faith has become a denomination within the bigger creed of commerce. It’s unfair to say, as some might, that Mitt Romney believes in nothing except his own ambition. He believes, with shining certainty, in his own success, and, more broadly, in the American Gospel of Wealth that lies behind it: the idea that rich people got rich by being good, that the riches are a sign of their virtue, and that they should therefore be allowed to rule.

There’s actually much about these two paragraphs I think is very perceptive. But Gopnik whistles past so many issues here from sin to politics to commercialism that it’s hard to see where Mormonism is the common thread running through them. Gopnik may observe that Mormons believing in God as Man creates some problematic theological niceties, but he doesn’t seem bothered by the fact his unearned authorial omniscience on complex theological matters raises more questions than it answers.  I give Gopnik a lot of credit for devising an elegant launching pad for discussing “Mormonism and its meanings,” but ultimately he’s unable elevate the subject matter to a place of real understanding.

Having said all that, I can heartily recommend another piece that covers some similar territory — Jesse Walker has a primer on Mormonism and its accompanying political tensions in the latest Reason magazine. Reason is a political magazine, but its libertarian bent often assures that it doesn’t view culture and politics in a predictable fashion. Walker’s piece is a straightforward tour through some esoteric political history. It manages to be remarkably evenhanded — no easy feat — by noting the widespread and irrational anti-Mormon prejudice and less flattering aspects of the early church. For instance, here’s Walker explaining an interesting historical tidbit:

In 1884 the Idaho territory made it illegal for Latter-day Saints to vote, hold office, or serve on a jury. Legislators invoked the standard anti-Mormon conspiracy theories, but lurking behind those exotic charges were more ordinary resentments: opposition to plural marriage, jealousy of the Mormon co-ops’ economic clout, and, above all, Republicans’ eagerness to disenfranchise a group that in Idaho voted overwhelmingly for the Democrats.

Walker’s piece is mostly historical, but his goal is to flesh out your understanding of some of the contemporary religious friction surrounding Romney’s candidacy. He succeeds admirably, and I recommend reading the whole thing.

Gray Lady’s brave Mormon doctrine story

It takes a certain amount of courage to write a news story about the doctrines of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

First of all, the beliefs of almost all religions are so complex that, in order to explain them, a reporter is forced to confront the highly technical language that will be used both by its leaders and its critics. To make matters worse, various camps of believers on both sides of these debates will use this doctrinal language in subtly different ways. It’s picky stuff.

The New York Times waded into these troubled waters the other day with a piece by religion-beat veteran Laurie Goodstein. According to the headline — “The Theological Differences Behind Evangelical Unease With Romney” — the goal was to explain why those nasty evangelicals have so much trouble coming to grips with the presidential aspirations of Mitt Romney.

In a way, this assumption that there are big, important theological differences is progress in and of itself. Most of the time, mainstream reporters simply assume that evangelicals are a bunch of bigots and move right on. It is a credit to Goodstein’s reporting that what she delivers is a story with more depth than what is described in the headline. This story, you see, is bigger than ongoing tensions between candid, highly-informed evangelicals and candid, highly-informed Mormons.

She begins with the Rev. R. Philip Roberts, the president of Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. He is introduced as “an evangelist with a particular goal: countering Mormon beliefs.”

Actually, there’s a lot more to Roberts than that. It appears that he is a specialist in Christian apologetics in a variety of cultures, with the kind of intellectual range that one gets while earning a doctorate at the Free University of Amsterdam, followed with a dose of studies at Oxford University. The story simply adds that he has “traveled throughout the United States, and to some countries abroad, preaching that Mormonism is heretical to Christianity.”

Anyway, this is a man prepared to debate about the fine points of theology.

“I don’t have any concerns about Mitt Romney using his position as either a candidate or as president of the United States to push Mormonism,” said Mr. Roberts, an author of “Mormonism Unmasked” and president of the Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, who said he had no plans to travel to South Carolina before the voting. “The concern among evangelicals is that the Mormon Church will use his position around the world as a calling card for legitimizing their church and proselytizing people.”

Alas, that is that. In other words, Roberts is an evangelist — not a scholar — who objects to the evangelistic efforts of Mormons. If this guy wrote a book on this topic, let’s ask about his actual concerns when it comes to faith and doctrine. However, he vanishes at this point and never gets to make a point of substance. Moving on.

The Times does find other voices, however, and what they have to say is quite interesting. Here’s the heart of the matter:

Mormons consider themselves Christians — as denoted in the church’s name, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Yet the theological differences between Mormonism and traditional Christianity are so fundamental, experts in both say, that they encompass the very understanding of God and Jesus, what counts as Scripture and what happens when people die. …

On the most fundamental issue, traditional Christians believe in the Trinity: that God is the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit all rolled into one. Mormons reject this as a non-biblical creed that emerged in the fourth and fifth centuries. They believe that God the Father and Jesus are separate physical beings, and that God has a wife whom they call Heavenly Mother.

You can see how that might upset evangelical Protestants. However, Goodstein immediately offers another important point of view, resulting in an angle rarely found in mainstream stories on this topic.

It is not only evangelical Christians who object to these ideas.

“That’s just not Christian,” said the Rev. Serene Jones, president of Union Theological Seminary, a liberal Protestant seminary in New York City. “God and Jesus are not separate physical beings. That would be anathema. At the end of the day, all the other stuff doesn’t matter except the divinity of Jesus.”

It would have helped if The Times had noted that many of the defining elements of Mormon theology are also rejected by the two largest and oldest branches of Christianity, as in the Catholic Church (click here for a key document) and the churches of Eastern Orthodoxy. Why not add that additional sentence to give readers the wider picture?

The bottom line: The Times was in a position to clearly state that the essential doctrinal differences behind the political scenes are between Trinitarian Christians — left and right, Catholic and Orthodox — and Mormons. While missing one or two key facts, the most important thing this particular story does is to undercut its own headline. There is, in other words, more to these tensions than narrow evangelical beliefs.

One more issue: GetReligion readers may want to know if this story deals with the explosive term “exaltation” and Mormon teachings about eternal life? Well, kind of.

Another big sticking point concerns the afterlife. Early Mormon apostles gave talks asserting that human beings would become like gods and inherit their own planets — language now regularly held up to ridicule by critics of Mormonism.

But Kathleen Flake, a Mormon who is a professor of American religious history at Vanderbilt Divinity School, explained that the planets notion had been de-emphasized in modern times in favor of a less concrete explanation: people who die embark on an “eternal progression” that allows them “to partake in God’s glory.”

“Mormons think of God as a parent,” she said. “God makes the world in order to give that world to his children. It’s like sending your child to Harvard — God gives his children every possible opportunity to progress towards this higher life that God possesses. When Mormons say ‘Heavenly Father,’ they mean it. It’s not a metaphor.”

I’m not so sure about the emphasis here on “early Mormons,” since I heard very literal references to these doctrines during the 1985 funeral of LDS President Spencer W. Kimball and in interviews with other high church officials about that time.

The key is that this section of the story contains numerous doctrinal landmines that would inspire tremendous debates between LDS apologists and their critics, both secular and religious. For example, is it accurate to say that faithful Mormons were said to become “like gods” and then inherit their own creations, worlds or planets? Does that mean that the creator of this planet, Planet Earth, is “like” a god? The Times states as fact what is actually a subject that many would Mormon leaders and their critics would say is worthy of fierce debate.

But let’s say that this Times statement is totally accurate. Is saying that a controversial Mormon revelation has been “de-emphasized” the same as saying that it has been changed or overturned? Has this change ever been publicly reported? You see, this would be a major news story in its own right. It is possible that Mormonism is evolving and moving closer — on a few issues — to the forms of Christianity that it has historically called heretical. But what are the facts?

Despite my criticisms, this Times story has put some crucial information into print about the hot-button issues that cause tensions between Mormons and Trinitarian Christians — evangelicals, the Orthodox, Catholics and liberal Christians of various kinds. These tensions will affect some votes, but probably not as many as some journalists may hope. Either way, the story will continue. The differences between these believers are sincere, important and newsworthy.

NOTE: It goes without saying that comments arguing pro or con on Trinitarian or Mormon doctrines will be spiked with great haste. The goal here is to discuss this attempt by The Times to cover some of these subjects.

‘Conservative Prots’ vs. LDS baptisms?

Guess what?

Mitt Romney remains a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Meanwhile, he also remains the odds-on favorite to be the GOP candidate to run against President Barack Obama.

Thus, news consumers should brace themselves for waves of stories focusing on Romney and the millions of traditional, Trinitarian Christians who disagree with him on the nature of the Godhead and a host of other theological subjects. Some of these people will decide not to vote for him, for reasons both religious and political.

At the same time, it is highly unlikely that we will see waves of coverage of the millions of voters — religious, non-religious, whatever — who disagree with Romney on a host of subjects linked to marriage, family and related issues in moral theology. Many, if not most, of these voters will decide not to vote for Romney, for reasons both religious and political.

Here’s my journalistic question: Why is a big story when people reject Romney because of his religious views on the Trinity, but not a major story when people reject his religious views on, let’s say, the sanctity of unborn human life?

Just asking. In other words, are there religious/political tests on both sides of our elections?

This raises more questions for journalists trying to plan campaign coverage: How many GOP voters will reject this Mormon man because of religious issues? How many Democratic voters will reject him because of issues that are linked to his faith? Of these two camps, which will be larger than the other. Just asking.

I do know one thing for sure. Lots of journalists are laboring under the false impression that the whole “are Mormons really Christians” debate is limited to evangelical and fundamentalist Protestant sanctuaries.

Consider this passage at the top of a recent Associated Press sidebar on this issue, as seen in The Washington Post:

Like traditional Christians, Mormons consider the Bible sacred and view Jesus as savior.

However, Mormons do not share the concept of a unified Trinity that is part of historical Christianity. They believe that God has called new apostles and prophets and that revelation continues as it did in ancient times, which does not conform to mainstream Christianity. The LDS church also teaches that God has a physical body and that human beings can eventually become like God.

But for conservative Protestants, the Bible alone is the authoritative word of God and the innovations of Mormon teaching are heresy. They do not recognize baptisms by the Mormon church and decry the secrecy surrounding some of its sacraments. Only church members in good standing can enter Mormon temples, where families are sealed, or united, so their relationships can continue in the afterlife.

Stop that wagon right there.

As is the case with any report on Mormon theology, there are all kinds of fine points to debate in these lines. Take, for example, the statement that Mormons believe that “human beings can eventually become like God.” Based on statements in LDS scriptures, many Trinitarian Christians would insist that Mormons have — at least in the past — taught that believers can literally “become gods.” That’s the kind of fine point that causes endless debates. For Mormon critics, “exaltation” is a key word.

That debate will continue, whether journalists want it to or not. However, as I described earlier, that theological debate may affect a surprisingly small number of Romney votes (compared with, say, gay rights).

No, the clear error in that Associated Press passage is found in the statement that for “conservative Protestants” the “innovations of Mormon teaching are heresy,” leading them, for example, not to “recognize baptisms by the Mormon church.”

You know, there they go again, all of these pesky evangelical/fundamentalists folks.

Truth is, the Vatican also rejects non-Trinitarian baptisms and, thus, Mormon baptisms — Mormon baptisms of both the living and (by proxy) the dead. The oh-so-blunt document is right here.

Question: Whether the baptism conferred by the community The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, called Mormons in the vernacular, is valid.

Response: Negative.

The Supreme Pontiff John Paul II, in the Audience granted to the undersigned Cardinal Prefect, approved the present Response, decided in the Sessione Ordinaria of this Congregation, and ordered it published.

From the Offices of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, 5 June 2001.

+ Joseph Cardinal RATZINGER

Prefect

Catholics and conservative Protestants are not alone in making this judgment. In a recent poll (click here), a surprising 48 percent of clergy in the more liberal mainline Protestant denominations shared this view.

This does not make this point of view right or wrong. It does mean that journalists must realize that it’s wrong to imply that only “conservative Protestants” have problems with core doctrines in the Mormon faith — to the point that they believe people baptized as Mormons must be baptized again in order to become traditional, Trinitarian Christians.

Editor’s note: Yes, yes. I am aware that many Episcopal clergy do not require Mormons to be re-baptized. Let’s not veer off into discussions of this fact in the comments pages, OK?

IMAGE: Baptism font in a Mormon temple.

Helpful talk on that ‘cult’ word

Presidential primary season is approaching, of course, which means that it’s time for reporters to start dancing around the Mormon issues that will be swirling around Mitt Romney.

Again.

At some point, a Romney critic or two will use the “cult” word or, just as likely, someone on the Religious Right will ask questions about Romney and then will be accused by the press of flirting with the “cult” word. At that point, the “cult” word will be in play, which was the whole point in the first place.

Some of the verbal warfare will be totally hollow. Some of it will be easy to trace back to real doctrinal differences — the word “exaltation” is sure to show up — between Protestant, Orthodox and Catholic Christians (the nature of God is at the top of the list) and members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

The odds are very good that, at some point, journalists will be quoting apologists from the Southern Baptist North American Mission Board. They will say highly nuanced things that will be hard for reporters to paraphrase, including statements that may or may not contain the word “cult.” Some reporters will oversimplify and ink will be slung around.

Now, before all of this starts, it’s important for reporters to find some serious, accurate, representative voices in three or four crucial camps — even if they disagree with one another.

The “On Faith” team at the Washington Post ran an essay the other day that represents an excellent start for a research file. Find the corresponding Southern Baptist materials and you’re about 2 percent down a long, interesting road.

The piece was written by Michael Otterson, head of the public affairs office for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This is not a news piece, of course, but it should be of interest to those who follow the Godbeat closely. Here is an important slice, near the top of the essay, which ran under the headline, “The Mormon church and the media’s ‘cult’ box.”

Where to start?

The Economist’s Los Angeles-based reporter wrote this in the print edition of May 3 this year: “Mainstream Protestants, and especially evangelicals, have traditionally considered Mormons a devious cult.”

The point was repeated on June 9: “Many Americans see Mormonism as a cult: in polls over the years a steady one in four say they would be less likely to vote for a Mormon as president.”

I’m not a professional statistician, but I do know that because one in four people say they are less likely to vote for a Mormon, it doesn’t follow that one in four see Mormons as a cult, “devious” or otherwise. Unless the reporter has data that the rest of us have not seen (in which case he should have cited it) the indiscriminate use of the word “cult” is unjustified.

Wikipedia correctly labels “cult” as a pejorative term, and adds: “The popular, derogatory sense of the word has no currency in academic studies of religions, where “cults” are subsumed under the neutral label of the “new religious movement.” …

Lest anyone think I am unduly thin-skinned, it’s the insult implicit in the word “cult” that I am objecting to, not the reasonable point that some Christians are indeed uncomfortable with aspects of Latter-day Saint theology. Of course they are. I am equally uncomfortable with some aspects of traditional, orthodox Christianity, which was the very issue that gave rise to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the first place. Such differences, however, should be examined thoughtfully, reasonably and respectfully in any national conversation about a particular faith. And they should be examined alongside the enormous doctrinal and practical similarities between these different branches of Christendom. For my part, I plan to keep politics and pejoratives out of it.

The key here is that many journalists struggle to distinguish between people who are using the slur “cult” in a sociological sense from those who are using the term “cult” in the context of debates about radical differences in doctrine. There are Mormon critics who will do both, but I have found that their numbers are shrinking rapidly.

Most evangelicals (Southern Baptist leaders for sure) will, if they use the word “cult” at all, go out of their way to try to explain to reporters that they are using the word in a narrow and highly academic, doctrinal sense. The differences are real, and important. But I have found that talks between Mormon leaders and evangelical leaders operate on a pretty refined and dignified level, these days.

If reporters listen carefully, and respectfully, to leaders on both sides it’s possible to negotiate this minefield without explosions. What will be discussed? Here is a sample of how Otterson describes this terrain:

* Why Latter-day Saints consider themselves New Testament Christians, rather than creedal Christians whose doctrines were formalized in the centuries following the foundation of Christianity. It is perfectly true that Mormons do not embrace many of the orthodoxies of mainstream Christianity, including the nature of the Trinity. It is not true that Mormons do not draw their beliefs from the same Bible.

Otterson will be covering that topic, and others, in the near future at “On Faith.” I assume that an equally candid and appropriate voice or two will speak for Protestants, Catholics, etc. This would be very helpful for reporters.

Clip and file!

The church of O is pantheistic

In Christianity Today, LaTonya Taylor offered the definitive look at “The Church of O” 10 years ago. There are many reasons why I’m not the type of woman to get into Oprah Winfrey, but her religious views always intrigued me.

Earlier this week, Tmatt looked at some of the coverage of Oprah’s goodbye show. He wrote “She led the way in creating what I have long called ‘OprahAmerica,‘ it’s a culture defined by emotion, feelings and stories, not by acts of creeds, doctrines and sacraments that have eternal consequences.” But how many articles got at that issue?

In the New York Times this weekend, Mark Oppenheimer looked at “The Church of Oprah Winfrey and a Theology of Suffering.” And as you might expect of a religion column, it’s all about the unique religion advanced by Oprah, “at once Christian and pantheistic.” The first part of the article talks about some of the Christian strains in her theology, with interesting quotes from Eva Illouz, a sociologist:

While respecting Ms. Winfrey’s use of her Christian heritage, Dr. Illouz ultimately concluded that the talk-show host might be something of a false prophet. That is because, she said, Ms. Winfrey and her cadre of self-help experts treated suffering as something beneficial. Ms. Winfrey turned the black church’s ethos of self-reliance in the face of suffering into an exaltation of suffering itself.

“By making all experiences of suffering into occasions to improve oneself,” Dr. Illouz wrote, “Oprah ends up — absurdly — making suffering into a desirable experience.”

And if, as Ms. Winfrey’s teachings suggest, strong women “can always transcend failure by the alchemy of their own will and of therapy, then people have only themselves to blame for their misery,” Dr. Illouz said.

Very interesting. We then get an intriguing discussion of Charles Grandison Finney and the “anxious bench.”

But I also enjoyed the part of the article that looked at the non-Christian aspects of Oprah’s theology:

Yet the Church of Winfrey is at most partly Christian. Her show featured a wide, if drearily similar, cast of New Age gurus. As Karlyn Crowley writes in her contribution to “Stories of Oprah: The Oprahfication of American Culture,” an essay collection published last year, Ms. Winfrey excelled at offering “spiritual alternatives to the mainstream religions” in which many of her followers grew up. Ms. Winfrey presided over something like a “New Age feminist congregation,” Dr. Crowley writes. …

In her earnest spiritual seeking, Ms. Winfrey gave platforms to some rather questionable types. She hosted the self-help author Louise Hay, who once said Holocaust victims may have been paying for sins in a previous life. She championed the “medical intuitive” Caroline Myss, who claims emotional distress causes cancer. She helped launch Rhonda Byrne, creator of the DVD and book “The Secret,” who teaches that just thinking about wealth can make you rich. She invited the “psychic medium” John Edward to help mourners in her audience talk to their dead relatives.

Oppenheimer’s reported column ends with this type of criticism of Winfrey’s religious exuberance and failure to ask tough questions of “psychics and healers and intuitives.” Whether you agree or disagree with Oppenheimer, this is a thoughtful and well argued analysis of Oprah’s theology and its limitations. It’s nice to read something of this nature in the weekend paper.

Time test flies a faith-free Romney story

I’m sorry to bring this up, but it’s time – once again – to wrestle with the complicated reality that is GOP superstar (sort of) Willard Mitt Romney and the challenges he presents to mainstream reporters who cover his, at this time, unofficial candidacy for the White House in ’12.

Let’s try to see this story through the eyes of a very specific voter, some would say the worst possible voter.

So you are a typical evangelical Protestant in, oh, South Carolina who is highly active in state Republican affairs there and, well, across the Bible Belt. Whenever you hear the name “Mitt Romney” you immediately think that he is:

(1) That Yankee with all the money.
(2) The guy who did semi-government health-care in Massachusetts before President Barack Obama took the idea national.
(3) The sort-of conservative Yankee who took a long time to make up his mind of moral and social issues.
(4) The guy with the strong jaw and great hair.
(5) The Mormon candidate.
(6) All of the above.
(7) Any of the first four options, but not No. 5.

Apparently, if you are an editor at Time magazine the answer is No. 7.

I base that conclusion on a new Time story, entitled “Election 2012: Mitt Romney Readies a Different Kind of Campaign,” that is supposed to be about the hurdles that he faces this time around — based on the outcomes of previous primaries. While it is clear, at this point, that there is no reason whatsoever for religion to dominate the story, the closest it comes to even mentioning Romney’s sincere and vital Mormon faith is a brief aside about the family Christmas card.

At his first two events in New Hampshire, his former state-level campaign strategists hovered in the back of the room, apparently ready to dive in. Soon after, supporters got the Romney-family Christmas card, which pictured the candidate with his wife and 14 of his 15 grandchildren, one of whom seemed to be crying. “Guess which grandchild heard that Papa might run again?” ran the caption.

Then again, readers with any memory of the GOP race to 2008 were also sure to flinch when they read this chunk of the story.

The most damning indictment of Romney’s 2008 campaign came from his archrival, former Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee, who began telling a story to reporters a few weeks before he beat Romney in the Iowa caucuses. It was the tale of a wealthy man who opened a dog-food company, hiring the best nutritionist, the best marketing people and the best sales force in the industry. When the product was released to great fanfare, sales flagged, so the wealthy man gathered his staff and demanded to know why. “There was a long silence,” Huckabee would say. “And then finally somebody in the back of the room said, ‘Because the dogs won’t eat the darn stuff, sir.’ ”

So why, pray tell, are many GOP dogs declining to eat what Romney is selling?

Meanwhile, we are, of course, talking about the Rev. Mike Huckabee and the reason he is Romney’s “archrival” is that they both need the support of religious conservatives and, the last time they faced off, the Southern Baptist candidate did not bite his tongue and keep silent when offered a chance to discuss the Mormon issue. Surely you recall that rather provocative incident? And Comedy Central was rather fond of punching the religion card, as well.

Whatever. I am sure that many GOP voters have gotten over that and that they have moved on. I am sure that strategists in the Romney campaign are not discussing this issue and, perhaps, even working hard to find the right kind of stump-speech language that will reach out to as many religious voters as possible (since, after all, there are many evangelical and Catholic Republicans who have, at one time or another in the past, endorsed Romney). The potential (cough, cough) candidate may even be trying out that language during his many test flights in New Hampshire, like the events covered in the Time article.

But there is no need to even mention that issue in a story about the challenges facing Romney. I am sure that religious and cultural issues will not play a major role in the upcoming campaign. Besides, it’s best not to talk about religion, whenever possible. Religious issues make simple political stories too complicated.

The burning crux of the matter

Surely by now you’ve seen the news that an enormous statue of Jesus was burnt to the ground in Ohio Monday. There were only 1,000 or so Google news links about it.

I knew right away that copy editors would have a field day with potential headlines about “Touchdown Jesus,” the structure’s nickname. “Oh, tmatt, you should never dare a copy editor,” Doug LeBlanc said yesterday to Terry’s “Burning (Son of) Man” headline suggestion. Here’s Doug’s list:

Refiner’s Fire
Our God Is a Consuming Fire
Crispy Kitsch Kritter
Paging Flannery O’Connor
Jesus’ Cute Overload
Kitschapoppin

Trust me, the ironies behind this story make me laugh as much as the next person. I love watching a good battle over the best headline.

At the same time, journalists seem to be peeing their pants over this story making sure its fully covered. It’s not like the Southern Baptists were having a convention or anything.

In their attempts, I wonder whether reporters were trying so hard to be cute that they forgot to just tell the story. I’m all for laughs and giggles, but surely reporters understand there is some line that shouldn’t be crossed. Apparently not, if you check some of the most respected sources like the Associated Press and the Washington Post.

“The King of Kings is now ashes to ashes,” Diane Kepley says in her video report for the Associated Press. “They say the King of Kings was a beacon of hope and salvation.”

This lead won’t even make sense to most people who aren’t familiar with the grand structure. I guess I preferred this lead that ran in the Detroit Free Press from the AP.

You know that huge statue of Jesus on northbound I-75 just outside of Cincinnati?

It was struck by lightning and burned down.

So simple yet so true. Jennifer Grant of the Cincinnati Enquirer captured the news while leaving room for some jest. (Check out the “write your own headline” feature and the audio of the 911 call) This is an example of how a newspaper kept the reporting solid while capturing the ironies.

In the meantime, forget any financial woes at the Washington Post; they have the resources to put not one but two reporters on the case.

Here’s the grand and very expensive lede from Monica Hesse and Dan Zak:

It appears God has sacrificed his only son. Again.

Blasphemous much? Sure, reporters can have some fun with this, but they could keep in mind that they are comparing this to the same person that Christians believe lived and breathed and was crucified.

When I chatted with Brad about this topic, he produced a few ledes in less than a minute:

Well, it looks like God got tired of competing with Sunday football.

Who said God appreciates endzone exaltations?

Jesus raised the roof and now it’s on fire.

The rest of the Post‘s piece reads as if the reporters held a drinking game for every time they found a religion reference during a natural disaster. The newspaper’s style section is known for its puff pieces, but surely two heads could come up with something better than this.

So, we turned to science. Religious structures, especially church steeples, are regularly zapped because they are often the highest point in a given area, according to John Jensenius, lightning safety specialist for the National Weather Service. But the same goes for towering secular symbols.

“Oh, she’s hit by lightning on a continual basis,” says Statue of Liberty spokesman Darren Boch.

When asked whether such lightning strikes might represent a malevolent act of God toward America, Boch says, “I can clearly state that no one here deems it an act of God.”

Which brings us to the main reason for writing this story: Lightning Safety Week starts Sunday.

Finally in the 16th paragraph, the reporters make their point. I hate to be the party pooper, but do national reporters really need to fall all over themselves to put several reporters on this? The Post story could’ve been written by someone in his mom’s basement in pajamas. I’m all for clever leads, brilliant headlines, witty comparisons, but on some level, doesn’t the story tell itself?

When your pews are in the news

GetReligion readers, I have a question for you. How many of you are part of religious congregations that have ended up in the news? Perhaps even more than once?

What happened? What went right and what went wrong? What did you learn from the experience?

Now, don’t go wild. I know that it’s easy to say that everything was messed up. In my experience, that rarely happens. What happens is that journalists — especially those with no experience or training on the religion beat — tend to get certain kinds of details right and certain kinds of details wrong.

In other words, I have seen patterns. I am interested in knowing what kinds of patterns you have seen when your church ended up on the other side of the reporter’s notebook.

Regular GetReligion readers will know that the parish I attend — Holy Cross Orthodox Church in Linthicum, Maryland — has ended up being in the news quite a bit. In part, this is because the wife of our priest is Frederica Mathewes-Green, a nationally known writer, speaker and commentator.

Then, there is the fact that our church is (a) close to the media of Washington, D.C., and (b) a perfect symbol for this era in which many Americans — especially evangelicals and former mainline Protestants — are choosing to convert into the ancient churches of the East. Our parish is at least 80 to 90 percent converts and their children. Thus, we ended up in the New York Times, which tends to get you noticed. Thus, a crew from a national Russian television network came to call. Does anyone out there speak Russian?

There’s more. A talented chanter in our parish (a young woman who may be the best choral musician I have sung with in my life) was the subject of a lovely feature on the PBS Religion & Ethics Weekly show, which ended up being amazingly popular online. Then I ended up, because of GetReligion.org, being the subject of a Baltimore Sun profile, which drew a bit of a crowd via the folks at Poynter.org.

It happened again the other day, with reporters at two local newspapers writing about the parish in news features linked to Easter or, as we call it in the East, Pascha. The Maryland Gazette did a short piece, based primarily on talks with Father Gregory and Frederica Mathewes-Green. Here’s a sample:

Mathewes-Green said the Parrish is largely made up of people in their 20s and 30s who were raised in different faiths.

“I think there is a big search going on today,” Mathewes-Green said. “Our congregation is devout. People are often surprised at how little a role the priest plays. Everyone has a part.” …

Tonight, when the parishioners follow Mathewes-Green back into the church they will be singing in English, Greek, Slovanic, Romanian and Arabic. Following a mass they will then go to the basement where they will be greeted with their Paschal baskets filled with meats, cheeses, wine and other things forbidden during lent.

“It’s the feasts of feasts,” said Mathewes-Green. “Russians will be drinking vodka and people will walk around with their favorite dishes asking if you would like to sample them.”

The Baltimore Sun piece by veteran reporter Jonathan Pitts was much longer and more involved and, thus, dealt with more complicated issues that are hard to keep straight. Consider this section about a service the week before Pascha:

It was the Great Vespers service of Palm Sunday, the first day of the holiest, most hopeful week of the year for the world’s 225 million Orthodox Christians, 2.6 percent of whom live in the United States. The faith blends ceremony and mystery in a way worshippers say makes their faith less a doctrine than a living thing.

But at Holy Cross, one of four parishes of its kind in Maryland, the old gives rise to the new. Most members are in their 20s and 30s. About 70 percent are converts, including former atheists, Anglicans, Catholics and Buddhists. The group embraces Caucasians, Asians and blacks, ethnic Serbs and Greeks, and occupations from research biologist to homemaker to roof repairman.

For a faith often identified with Eastern ethnic groups, at Holy Cross it has a bustling, American feel.

Now there are all kinds of things in that short passage that Orthodox Christians could spend hours discussing.

For example, Holy Cross is said to be “one of four parishes of its kind in Maryland.” But there are way more Eastern Orthodox parishes than that in the state. The global statistics are for all of Orthodoxy, but then the reference to Holy Cross seems to be to the Antiochian archdiocese alone (which has five parishes in Maryland).

Also, I know what people are talking about when they say that Orthodoxy is a “living thing” that is more than mere doctrine. However, that makes it sound as if the doctrine is not all that important or that it is evolving and changing. The bottom line is that the church is called “Orthodox” for a reason. It’s a faith that you learn by living it and that includes the doctrine that is woven into the rites, hymns, prayers, the fasting, confession and everything else. There is more to the faith than the words of the doctrines, but never less.

Now don’t get me wrong. It’s a fine and sensitive article, but there are other fine points linked to doctrine and history that are also tricky.

This is my point. Recently, I had a chance to speak to a New York City gathering of communicators from a spectrum of religious bodies. We talked about the kinds of facts and themes that are just hard for reporters to keep straight. We kept cycling back to issues of history, doctrine and law. It seems that some things are just too detailed and rich for reporters — even fine, dedicated reporters — to keep straight. Throw in a several layers of controversy about some of these topics and things can get messy.

Reporters do not like errors. Neither to the people touched by the stories. What can religious groups do to help with the process? That’s the question.

OK, I have gone on and on. But I think about this both as a journalist and as a churchman. Readers, what have you observed? Let me warn you that I will take down the usual straw-man, generalized attacks on journalists as a group and the whole profession. Be detailed. Offer URLs to stories about your congregations and movements, if you wish.

Discuss.

Top photo: Pascha at Holy Cross, in 2009.