If you’re anything like me, you pay attention when an e-mail is marked “URGENT!!”
The particular e-mail I have in mind carried a subject line that was direct and equally attention-grabbing: “Christian nationalism is coming for Europe.”
The content was a single link, to an article written by United States journalist Katherine Stewart for The New Republic on the rise of the Christian Right in the United Kingdom. In it, Stewart tells of how she believes a form of hyper-patriarchal, homophobic and nationalistic Christianity often associated with evangelicals in the US is gaining a beachhead in the UK. The developments there, she writes, “are like a window on the American past.
“This is how things must have looked before the antidemocratic reaction really took hold,” she wrote.
As a correspondent covering European Christians and as a scholar teaching religion in Germany, I’ve tracked some of the developments, institutions and movements Stewart cites. While rumors of the Christian right’s rise in Europe need to be taken seriously, it is also vitally important that the careful observer of religion take note of some of the complexities that have shaped the Christian right’s contours in ways distinct from, if related to, the forms we see taking hold in the U.S.
Sikhi: An Updated Guide
There are more than 27 million Sikhs around the world, which makes Sikhi (also known as Sikhism) the fifth-largest major world religion. Yet the Sikh tradition remains largely unknown to the global community – no other religion of its magnitude is as misunderstood as Sikhi.
The Sikh religion has been underrepresented and misrepresented in the popular media, and these problems have contributed to the serious challenges that Sikhs experience today, including negative stereotypes, discriminatory policies, and violent hate crimes.
This guide — a collaboration between the Sikh Coalition and ReligionLink and updated in 2025 — provides information on the Sikh tradition in order to facilitate better understanding of Sikhs and Sikhi.
Intrafaith minorities: Appreciating religious communities’ internal diversity
When it comes to international religious freedom, we tend to hear a lot about religious minorities, their struggle for rights and recognition or persecution — both state-sanctioned and informal.
But what of intrafaith minorities?
While interfaith tensions refer to high-friction relations between different religious communities, intrafaith conflict occurs between different denominations or groups within a faith tradition.
One might think of frictions between Shiite majorities in Iraq and Iran and their Sunni minorities — or vice versa in Afghanistan, Pakistan or Syria — or the sometimes awkward relationship between The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and other Christians.
In this edition of ReligionLink, we look at intrafaith diversity and discrimination, unpacking how people of different interpretations deal with internal distinctions and differences within shared traditions.
Peacebuilders Reflect on Pope Francis’ Impact on Christian-Muslim Relations
When Pope Francis died on April 21, aged 88, tributes not only poured in from politicians and representatives of the world’s 1.3 billion Roman Catholics, but also from leaders of different religious traditions.
Justin Welby, the former archbishop of Canterbury who became leader of the Anglican church the same year Francis became pope, said Francis was “an example of humility” who “constantly reminded us of the importance of serving the poor, always standing with those who faced persecution and hardship.”
The Dalai Lama said he was an example of service to others, “consistently revealing by his own actions how to live a simple, but meaningful life.”
Chief rabbi Pinchas Goldschmidt, president of the Conference of European Rabbis, remembered Francis for his, “unwavering dedication to promoting peace and goodwill worldwide.”
The tributes from numerous global religious leaders and communities are a testimony to Francis’ interreligious engagement during his 12-year papacy — and the primacy he placed on values like mercy, dialogue with the marginalized, interdependence and the shared urgency of working for the common good.
Throughout his papacy, Francis regularly called on people of faith to practice interfaith dialogue, friendship, and collaboration. He himself also engaged in numerous trips, consultations and one-to-one dialogues throughout his 12-year papacy.
But in the days since his death, I also heard from numerous practitioners in the field of Christian-Muslim dialogue who spoke of the particular, and personal, impact Pope Francis had on them.
Can AI Understand Religion? Students Put It To The Test
Ask E.B. Tylor what religion is and he would say it is, “belief in Spiritual Beings.”
Ask William James and he will tell you it is the “feelings, acts, and experiences of individual men in their solitude.”
Ask Catherine L. Albanese, and she would say it is “a system of symbols (creed, code, cultus) by means of which people (a community) orient themselves in the world with reference to both ordinary and extraordinary powers, meanings, and values.”
Ask Émile Durkheim, Clifford Geertz or others, and you’d get a different answer from the perspectives of sociology, anthropology, theology, philosophy and more.
But what if you ask ChatGPT?
Well, you get a mix of the above, it turns out.
When I asked my friendly, neighborhood artificial intelligence (AI) chatbot, it defined religion as, “a system of beliefs, practices, symbols, and moral codes that connects individuals or communities to the sacred, the divine, or some ultimate reality or truth.”
In the wake of ChatGPT’s viral launch in 2021, the question of how to integrate AI into the classroom — and the religious studies classroom at that — has been at the forefront of educators’ minds. With the global expansion of machine learning, big data, and large language models (LLMs), AI has the potential to radically impact teaching and learning, revolutionizing the way students interact with knowledge and how educators engage course participants.
There are, however, significant concerns about its ethical use, technology infrastructures, and fair access.
In this post, I share how I recently used AI as part of my pedagogy to help prompt deeper understanding of religion in the United States – and what we might have to learn from chatbots about how we define and discuss religion.
The AI Unessay
AI is a technology that enables machines and computers to emulate human intelligence and mimic its problem-solving powers.
The umbrella term “AI” encompasses various forms of machine-based systems that produce predictions, recommendations or content based on direct or indirect human-defined objectives. Based on
LLMs, AI generators like ChatGPT, Jasper or Google Gemini are tools that have been trained on vast amounts of data and text to provide predictive responses to requests, questions and prompts inputted by users like you, me or our students.
As with other advances in technology — from mobile phones and social media to enhanced graphics calculators and Wikipedia — educators have responded to AI in various ways. Some have moved quickly to ban its use and bemoan the submission of essays and other coursework clearly created with the help of AI.
Others have moved to integrate AI into their religious studies pedagogy, inviting students to create videos or infographics with the assist of AI to explain the elements, and role, of rituals to stimulate class discussion or to treat “AI as a tool for lessons that go beyond academics and also focus on the whole person.”
When I recently taught a course on American religion, I decided to assign what I called an “AI Unessay.”
The usual unessay invites students of varying learning modalities and expressions to create final projects that demonstrate their grasp of course material and discussions beyond the traditional essay. These can be hands-on demonstrations, mini-documentaries, artistic visualizations, performative projects or social media campaigns.
The AI Unessay invited course participants to design a set of prompts for an AI generator (e.g., ChatGPT) to write a 2,000-word essay on a topic in American religion, broadly defined. Then, participants were asked to write their own critical response to this AI essay, analyzing its strengths, weaknesses, sources and the process itself.
AI’s Religious Illiteracy
Students chose a variety of topics to cover, from religious themes in metal music and superhero comics to the “trad wife” trend among members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and digital seances.
Throughout the semester, I worked with participants to refine their topic selections, come up with AI prompts and conduct secondary-source research and firsthand “digital fieldwork.”
Meanwhile, course lectures and readings were provided to supply helpful context on how each of these themes might be better placed within the wider currents of American religion and its
In a recent classroom experiment, students found, like many others, that AI responses were often biased, inaccurate, or even harmfully ignorant. | Image created in Meta AI for Patheos.
intersections with U.S. politics, economics and society.
Not all course participants opted for the AI Unessay. Others wrote traditional papers or put together a different kind of creative final project. But the majority of students opted for the AI-based project, saying they not only wanted to learn more about how to productively, and critically, work with AI, but wondered whether the technology was up for the challenge of understanding, parsing out and pontificating on America’s religious diversity.
Though participants did learn some new information from the AI essays and discovered some data they hitherto were unaware of, they were — on the whole — disappointed with the results. They found, like many others, that AI responses were often biased, inaccurate or even harmfully ignorant.
They also found that citations and sources were a decidedly mixed bag, with the chatbots often manufacturing fake data and made-up books or articles.
And finally, numerous students reflected that it was a challenge to get the AI chatbot to write at the appropriate length (2,000 words). The technology was often too efficient, churning out well-structured, but far too brief, answers to questions about metal music’s spiritual intimations or the nuances of the “trad wife” trend on TikTok. When asked to elaborate, participants found AI was overly repetitive or even fabricated false information or created concrete details and data that were inaccurate or exaggerated. It also regurgitated implicit and explicit biases against marginalized religious communities or intra-faith minorities.
As one participant summed it up, “I found AI to be more religiously illiterate than me, which is saying something!”
Where to from here?
Asked to consider why AI was found wanting in its accuracy in depicting American religious diversity, participants surmised that because AI is trained on what internet publics “know” and share about religion, it is just as religiously illiterate as the rest of us. They suggested it takes students of religion who are paying careful attention to help it along, correct its mistakes and continue to critically question the just-so narratives about religion, religions and the religious that can be found online.
In other words, participants discovered how AI amplifies and compounds some of the worst in religious illiteracy.
Writing for the Religion, Agency and AI forum, digital religion scholar Giulia Evolvi reminds us that in an age of hypermediation, “religious communication, like all modern communication, is no longer mediated linearly. Instead, digital media amplifies and reshapes it, creating intensified networks and narratives.”
Thus, in an age when more people will turn to AI to answer their questions about religion and spirituality, it is important that we engage with the technology, critique its biases and weaknesses and continue to pay attention to the ways humans employ the concept of “religion” to make sense of the world around them and their place in it.
Even with the advent of AI technologies — and religious studies students’ use of it — the why of studying religion doesn’t change. Religion remains interesting, intricate and important.
We might just need to shift some of the ways we go about making sense of it and adapt our classrooms and conversations accordingly.
Pope Francis dies aged 88. What's next?
After briefly appearing in Saint Peter’s Square to wish thousands of worshippers “Happy Easter” on Sunday, Pope Francis died on Easter Monday, April 21, at his residence in the Vatican’s Casa Santa Marta. He was 88.
In a video statement, the Vatican announced his death early Monday, just weeks after he survived a serious bout of double pneumonia.
His death plunged Catholics around the world into grief. Cardinal Kevin Farrell, camerlengo, announced the Pope’s passing, “with profound sadness.” His passing also leaves the papacy vacant until a conclave is convened in Rome to elect the new pontiff.
Pope Francis — who was the first Latin American elevated to the papacy on March 13, 2013, after a two-day conclave charged with determining a successor to Pope Benedict XVI — leaves a record of attacks on clericalism, empowerment of the church’s lay members and dialogue within the church around its public and pastoral role on issues such as climate change and xenophobia, immigration and women’s ordination.
Labeled “liberal, progressive, populist, disruptive and even pop,” Francis steered the church leftward after more than three decades of conservative leadership. But his record on issues like climate change, clergy abuse scandals, women’s ordination and LGBTQ acceptance is far from settled, with critics questioning his reforms and his handling of the Roman Catholic Church’s various crises.
That legacy, and its long-term impact on Catholics worldwide, will be in part decided by who is selected as the next pope. That process begins with a convening of the College of Cardinals — the conclave — within 15 to 20 days of the pope’s death.
This edition of ReligionLink provides insight on Pope Francis’ tenure in the papal office, in-depth information about how a new pope will be chosen and leads on who the top contenders are to lead more than 1.3 billion Roman Catholics worldwide.
An Old Idea Is New Again in Europe: Spiritual Formation
How do you transform European hearts?
It’s one thing to tell people about Jesus. It’s another to get them to change the way they live and help them develop the kind of daily practices that, as the late American philosopher Dallas Willard once wrote, “actually lead to the transformation of life.”
That thought drove Michael Stewart Robb, a Munich-based American theologian who wrote a book on Willard, to found the Sanctus Institute in 2017. He wanted something—an infrastructure, an organization—to teach Christians to foster the day-to-day disciplines and practices that shape people spiritually. Today the institute brings together ministers and ministries with an interest in spiritual formation from across the continent.
Evangelicals in other parts of Europe have started exploring and rediscovering ways of connecting with God too. From Methodist band meetings in Bulgaria to urban monks in Paris and Berlin and spiritual retreats in Portugal, missionaries, pastors, and everyday Christians are looking for ways to not only pursue converts but also help people conform to the image of Christ.
According to Willard, who died in 2013, American evangelicals started feeling a pressing need to emphasize discipleship after World War II. Many ministers and Christian leaders felt the Sunday sermon alone, or even the Sunday sermon plus a midweek Bible study, didn’t provide people enough sustenance to really live like Christians. Churches had put too much emphasis on head knowledge and belief, not enough on formation.
Today, ideas about the importance of discipleship are widespread in the United States, Robb said. Americans can easily find books—including titles by Willard and a range of writers including Richard Foster, Henri Nouwen, Richard Rohr, Elizabeth Oldfield, Ruth Haley Barton, Barbara Peacock, Diane Leclerc, James Wilhoit, John Mark Comer, and many others—as well as retreats and seminars on the topic. Many seminaries teach spiritual direction and offer specialization in spiritual formation.
“You can’t run a seminary in North America unless you say you do spiritual formation. It’s part of the package,” Robb said. “In Europe, you don’t really see that.”
Connect, Care, Contribute: The Potential and Power of Muslim Women’s Philanthropy
Head to the U.S./Mexico border where a shelter founded by Sonia Tinoco García and the Latina Muslim Foundation serves thousands of asylum seekers each year; connect with Sakina Bakharia, president of the Barbados Association of Muslim Ladies, the first and only organization in Barbados that responds to the needs of Muslim women and girls; or visit Hazel Gómez, a Puerto Rican and Mexican Muslim community organizer with Dream of Detroit, a nonprofit that combines strategic housing and land development to empower marginalized neighborhoods.
Each is an example of Muslim women making an impact in their communities, based on their unique skillsets and experiences.
According to researchers at the Indiana University Lilly Family School of Philanthropy’s Muslim Philanthropy Initiative, philanthropy plays a vital role in the daily life of Muslim women.
As part of a growing Muslim philanthropic landscape that gives an estimated 4.3 billion dollars in zakat (obligatory charity that requires Muslims to give 2.5% of their wealth), women contribute beyond monetary giving as well, donating their time, talent and community ties to the greater good.
Nausheena Hussain, who helped shape the report and is author of a new book on Muslim’s women’s finance and giving titled, Prosperity with Purpose: A Muslim Woman’s Guide to Generosity and Abundance, said such research is vital to better understand Muslim women’s engagement, impact and still untapped philanthropic potential.
“First, Muslims in general have been underrepresented in philanthropic research,” she said, “and Muslim women are often misrepresented.”
Earlier reports had shown that Muslim men gave more money than women. But Hussain knew that philanthropy encompassed more than monetary contributions. She approached MPI’s Director, Shariq Siddiqui, about conducting research into women’s giving, volunteering and motivations for civic activism.
The results not only showed that Muslim women were involved, but that they were engaged at scale, with their generosity behaviors amplifying each other. In MPI’s 2023 report, seven out of ten women said they actively participate in one or more organizations — and because of this participation, were more likely to give zakat. In other words, if they were giving their time, they were giving more money.
They also found that if the same women were registered voters, they were even more likely to donate, volunteer, and participate in the community. Their data showed 87% of total zakat given by Muslim women was by those who were also registered voters — and those that are registered to vote were also 15 times more likely to volunteer.
This kind of research, Hussain said, not only departed from existing literature that focused on negative stereotypes of Muslim women or social stigmas and discrimination but also showed a side to American generosity that was not white, Christian or male-centric.
“When Muslim women cannot see ourselves in the broader story of Muslim or American giving, it becomes difficult to imagine ourselves as philanthropists,” she said. “Part of my goal is to be able to tell those stories, so that Muslim women can see themselves in these roles.”
A housing crisis of faith
“It’s the first thing you notice about the United States,” said Bernhard Froebe, a German tourist visiting Los Angeles in the summer of 2024. “There are so many people living in the streets, on the sides of the road, in whole encampments,” said Froebe, who hails from the Saxon city of Zwickau. “It’s shocking.”
Froebe’s remarks come as no surprise to Americans, who have seen homelessness rise 40% since 2018 and rent and home sale prices soar upward of 155% over the last five years.
According to the 2024 “America’s Rental Housing” report by the Joint Center for Housing Studies of Harvard University, 22.4 million renter households spent more than 30% of their income on rent and utilities in 2022 — a record high. Together, the numbers speak to an impending sense of crisis and pessimism about the U.S. housing market.
And according to the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development’s 2024 Annual Homelessness Assessment Report, the number of people experiencing homelessness on a single night — 771,480 people — was the highest ever recorded. Accounting for around 2 of every 1,000 people in the country, people in families with children, individuals, unaccompanied youth, veterans and others found themselves in emergency shelters, safe havens, transitional housing or unsheltered and out on the streets.
Like the stats themselves, the factors are many: a worsening housing crisis, stagnating wages among middle- and lower-income households, systemic racism, public health crises, disasters and displacement, inflation.
But how are faith communities responding?
In early 2025, numerous nonprofits and federal agencies were dealt a series of blows, as President Donald Trump signed several executive orders halting aid and slashing budgets, including that of the U.S. Interagency Council on Homelessness, which was formed in 1987 to coordinate the federal response. The cuts, experts fear, will exacerbate the problems they already were struggling to address.
Religious communities across the spectrum have responded in various ways, providing direct support to those in need. For example, Latino Muslims in Chicago have developed a program called “Neighborly Deeds,” distributing warm meals, blankets, clothes and hygiene products to those experiencing homelessness. And on the streets of Skid Row in Los Angeles, the Friars and Sisters Poor of Jesus Christ — a Catholic religious order founded in Brazil — have been ministering to recently arrived immigrants living in temporary housing or in tents along the road.
Individually, many who are unhoused turn to religious and spiritual practices, including Christian prayer, Buddhist meditationor Native-specific independent spiritual practices, as a means of protection or coping with the stress and related problems of homelessness.
Long a partner, or primary provider, to individuals and families experiencing homelessness, faith and values groups have also started to respond in more creative ways to the current crisis, looking to address more than immediate needs.
Shifting away from traditional shelters or safe havens, faith communities have started offering affordable housing: erecting microhomes on church properties, converting residences — from parsonages to convents — into units or repurposing vacant schools and parking lots. Many of the churches converting their underused land into affordable flats riff off the anti-development slogan “Not in my backyard” (NIMBY), instead advocating with the motto “Yes in God’s backyard” (YIGBY).
Meanwhile, the nonreligious organization SecularHelp runs its “Helping the Homeless” program, which it says provides direct, practical support to individuals experiencing homelessness without “relying on supernatural or faith-based approaches.”
But critics such as Americans United for Separation of Church and State lament that for many experiencing homelessness, “the only organized form of temporary shelter comes from a faith-based organization or church.” Though they can provide essential resources, Americans United wrote, churches can also use “this resource gap as an opportunity to proselytize a vulnerable population.” This issue recently came to the fore in the U.S. Supreme Court Decision in Grants Pass v. Johnson, in which Justice Sonia Sotomayor, in her dissent, questioned the religious rules around providing shelter to the unhoused.
In another case, a church providing temporary shelter around the clock in Bryan, Ohio, was found guilty of violating zoning and fire codes in local criminal court. That decision, along with a civil case against the church, is being appealed.
At the very least, the above shows the numerous religion, ethics and values angles to be explored when it comes to the United States’ rapidly growing housing crisis.
Marine Le Pen's Verdict, Christians, and the Rise of the Far-right in Europe
What does a corruption verdict for a popular politician in France have to do with evangelical pastors in the U.S.?
Last week, I joined Clarissa Moll on Christianity Today’s news podcast, “The Bulletin,” to discuss the verdict passed on to French politician Marine Le Pen and her party, National Rally.
Though there are particulars in France, Le Pen’s and National Rally’s — or Rassemblement National’s — upward trajectory can be connected to the rise of populist, nationalist, and far-right parties and sentiments across the continent and perhaps even across the Atlantic Ocean.
Right-wing populism has been on the rise in Europe for over 20 years and Le Pen’s popularity is not an isolated occurrence.
They draw on what might be called “transversal topics of concern” that reach, and connect, multiple groups hitherto disconnected: anti-immigrant sentiment, skepticism about liberal democracy and the EU, questions about gender equality, as well as discontent with existing economic systems and climate policies.
This includes Christians. One example was the voice of the Christian Right in protests against governmental policies during the COVID-19 pandemic, which united conservative Christians, left-leaning civil society, and far-right anti-establishment parties.
This networking across different constituencies and countries enhances the influence and reach of populist far-right ideologies like Le Pen’s.
When religious leaders die
For me, Jimmy Carter’s death came too soon.
Not necessarily because of his age. He lived to the ripe old age of 100 and, in many respects, lived those years to the fullest.
No, and if I may be crass for a moment, Carter passed before I had a reporting guide ready for reporters looking to cover the faith angles of his life and legacy.
You see, as Editor for ReligionLink, I put together resources and reporting guides for journalists covering topics in religion. Each month, we publish a guide covering topics such as education and church-state-separation under Trump, faith and immigration or crime and houses of worship.
Early in 2024, I started to put together a guide to cover the passing of Jimmy Carter. Serving as Editor is only a part-time gig, and it usually takes all the time I have dedicated to the role to produce a single, monthly guide. But on the side, I started to make notes, identify sources and build a timeline for Carter’s life and legacy.
When he passed on December 29, 2024, the guide was not ready. Nor would it be in the matter of days necessary for it to be useful. So, the opportunity came and went. The draft of the guide to covering Jimmy Carter’s passing tossed on the editing floor.
The missed occasion, however, inspired me to work ahead more intentionally on guides for other famous faith leaders. The process of putting such guides together led me to reflect on what it means to remember, and report on, the passing of prominent figures in religion.
Islam, Real and Imagined: PW Talks with John Tolan
In Islam: A New History, the historian chronicles the religion’s 1,400–year evolution through profiles of figures who showcase its diversity.
Why is a new history of Islam particularly relevant now?
Much of the current discourse on Islam is based on a traditional narrative about its origins and rise, as if everything we know about the religion was produced by Muhammad and his companions in the seventh century. But as recent scholarship shows, Islam emerged gradually and has been in constant change over the centuries. This pushes back on what Muslim fundamentalists believe is a “pure” form of Islam—an imagined, ideal society around Muhammad where Sharia was already the law of the land. The far right does the opposite, saying that this early Islamic society persecuted minorities, women, and so forth, and that it is essentially the same today. This means, for them, that Muslims are not able to adapt to modern Western societies. I hope to show people who are not on either of those extremes Islam’s rich history and diversity.
Who are some of the people from Islamic history you introduce and how do they illustrate these themes?
One of the chapters that was most fun for me is about Ibn Battuta, a 14th-century Moroccan man who leaves home at the age of 22 and travels for 20 years, going as far as India, China, and beyond. He gets jobs as a judge and an administrator in Delhi and the Maldives. He’s appreciated wherever he goes, because he knows his Quran and Islamic law. At the same time, his testimony shows the diversity of the Muslim world and its constant engagement with others—with Christians, with Hindus, with Buddhists. His story reminds us that the real demographic center of Islam is much further east than the Middle East or North Africa, and that in all these countries Muslims have had to interact, often creatively, with people of other faiths. Still today, none of the top five countries with the largest Muslim population is Arab.
How does one make sense of such a vast and diverse religion?
I like to point readers to the cover of the book. You see this Indian-looking woman lying prostrate in prayer and receiving a paper with a text in Arabic, a verse from the Quran. This is Rabia al-Adawiyya, an eighth-century Iraqi Sufi woman, portrayed a thousand years later by an Indian artist as a well-dressed, idyllic beauty of 18th-century India. That, to me, shows Islam’s paradoxical unity in diversity, because here she is, an Iraqi Sufi who speaks across borders and centuries, holding a verse from the Quran to which all Muslims would relate.
A version of this article appeared in the 03/24/2025 issue of Publishers Weekly under the headline: John Tolan
A Tale for our Time: Shira Piven and Joshua Salzberg on “The Performance”
It was not an ideal spot for a phone call but there I was, balancing between cars on a train traveling back home to Berlin, talking with Joshua Salzberg, who was calling from Budapest, where he was working on a film.
Salzberg knows I am a religion nerd. The film he adapted with co-writer/director Shira Piven — “The Performance”— featured a cast of characters with varying religious identifications. The team wanted to get the details right. Down to the minutest items.
So, there I was, rocking back and forth as the German state of Brandenburg flitted by, talking to Salzberg about the ring a club owner in 1930s Berlin might foreseeably be wearing.
That attention to detail impressed me. The care and concern that Piven, Salzberg and the entire team brought to the film is a testament to its overarching message of resisting hate and finding people’s humanity in the unlikeliest of places.
“The Performance,” starring the director’s brother, Jeremy Piven of Emmy-nominated “Entourage” acclaim, is adapted from an Arthur Miller short story of the same name. The story has been described as, “a strange midnight train ride” by Seattle Times critic Richard Wallace, and tells the tale of Harold May, a down-on-his-luck New York tap dancer who heads to Europe in the 1930s in search of new opportunities.
While dancing on the tabletops of a Hungarian night club, May and his troupe attract the attention of Damian Fugler (Robert Carlyle), who invites them to give a special performance at a Berlin nightclub, hefty paycheck included. May, who is Jewish but can “pass” as a blond-haired Aryan, and his fellow performers — including Adam Garcia as the politically attuned Benny Worth, Isaac Gryn as a closeted Paul Garner, Lara Wolf as the namesake of a Persian princess “Sira” and Maimie McCoy as a recently divorced, single dancer Carol Conway — are fast-tracked through a series of ethical, moral and professional through stations as they tap their way into a performance none of them really want: a private show for Adolph Hitler.
The story chugs along like “a modern, gothic folktale,” with the personal stakes becoming ever greater until it all falls off the rails, when their experience of opulent luxury at the behest of their German hosts contrasts too starkly with the increasingly evident persecution of Jews, homosexuals and other so-called “undesirables” around them.
Episcopal Diocese Defends Migrant Shelter, Citing "Jesus" and "Constitution"
On March 11, the Department of Homeland Security sent the Episcopal Diocese of the Rio Grande a letter insinuating illegal activities at a diocesan shelter, including human trafficking.
The letter, sent by the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s acting administrator, Cameron Hamilton, states that the Department of Homeland Security, of which FEMA is a part, has “significant concerns” about organizations receiving FEMA grants using those funds to engage in or facilitate “illegal activities.”
Hamilton wrote that such organizations, such as the diocese’s migrant shelter, “may be guilty of encouraging or inducing an alien to come to, enter, or reside in the United States” and “transporting or moving illegal aliens, harboring, concealing or shielding from detection illegal aliens or applicable conspiracy aiding or abetting.”
In an online video posted on March 14, Bishop Michael Hunn of the Rio Grande diocese said the letter amounted to a not-so-subtle accusation that the diocese was engaged in human trafficking. Hunn did not share the letter with Sojourners. (The Denver Post published a copy of a similar letter.)
“I’m insulted by the insinuation that we have been involved in anything illegal or immoral,” Hunn said in the video after reading excerpts from the letter.
Can Christian Charities Serve Both God and Trump?
The U.S. government and faith-based organizations have worked together since the dawn of the United States. The same Congress that prevented the government from endorsing or becoming too involved in religious activities through the First Amendment also set aside land for churches in the Northwest Territory, later Ohio, in the 1780s. Funds to support recently emancipated people after the Civil War were often channeled through Christian schools and agencies.
In the wake of World War II, faith-based relief organizations worked hand-in-hand with the U.S. government to deliver aid and address hunger, poverty, and displacement around the world. In the early 2000s, the George W. Bush administration created its “faith-based initiatives” program, which made religious social-service providers—including evangelical groups—institutionalized partners of the U.S. government.
But in his second term, President Donald Trump has quickly signaled a drastic shift in this relationship. In executive orders, Trump froze federal grants flowing to religious nonprofits; terminated refugee resettlement programs, most of which are run by religious organizations; and suspended foreign aid pending review. The Trump administration effectively dismantled the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), which partners with an array of religious charities and communities.
The administration’s efforts face legal challenges on multiple fronts. A federal judge in Washington ordered a temporarily lift to the funding freeze that halted U.S. foreign aid. Meanwhile, religious groups have challenged the administration’s cuts, arguing that they disproportionately harm vulnerable populations. In separate suits, multiple faith-based organizations have challenged what they say is the unlawful suspension of refugee resettlement programs.
Faith leaders fear that such measures are just the beginning of a larger realignment of the U.S. government’s relationship with religious groups toward an aggressive attitude of brute force and domination.
Interfaith Inc.: Will US corporations continue to embrace dialogue as many curtail DEI efforts?
Photo via Interfaith America Magazine.
When Jacqueline Moreno got her job at a global investment firm, it was an answered prayer.
“I couldn’t believe it,” she said. “Coming from my background, as the child of immigrants growing up in the poorer parts of San Diego, I thought these kinds of jobs were out of reach.
“It’s really, truly, a miracle,” Moreno said.
Moreno was thankful her prayers seemed to be answered with the job offer. What she did not expect was that her prayers would be welcome at work. But when she started, she joined a “Christian life” community at the firm, one of its 24 different employee resource groups (ERGs), representing an array of identities and interests among the company’s workforce.
“Too often, when you work at big companies, you feel like you have to keep your faith in the back pocket,” Moreno said, “but through this community, it’s like every day is ‘bring your religion to work day.’”
Moreno’s experience is becoming more common as companies and corporations come to terms with increasing religious diversity in the workplace. As Eboo Patel, Founder of Interfaith America told Religion News Service’s Kathryn Post, among major brands like Walmart and Starbucks as well as tech firms like Google and financial behemoths like Alliance Bernstein, a growing contingent of businesses are engaging questions around religious diversity and dialogue.
The expansion seen in recent years, however, may be under threat, as the federal government’s efforts to curb Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) practices may soon have sweeping impacts on the private sector and threaten interfaith efforts at corporations and companies across the U.S.
The American workplace: Ground zero for interreligious encounter
Elaine Howard Ecklund, sociology professor at Rice University in Houston, Texas, said workplaces are one of the places Americans are most likely to encounter religious diversity, when compared to other spheres of life.
“Our social media channels, the kinds of neighborhoods we are in, the places we shop or spend our free time; it’s easy to be with people like us in all of these places,” Ecklund said. “Workplaces are one of the last places in American society where we have the potential to meet people who are different than us, including from different religions.”
Ecklund is Co-Author, with Wheaton College professor Denise Daniels and West Virginia University sociologist Christopher P. Scheitle, of a new book, Religion in a Changing Workplace, which shows how employees across the private sector are embracing the notion of “bringing their whole selves to work” — and many employers are encouraging them.
The team conducted more than 15,000 surveys and 300 in-depth interviews on the subject of faith in US workplaces. It is the largest study of faith at work in the US to date.
Though the researchers surmised that people would bring their faith to work, they were surprised by the extent to which people want to.
Wheaton’s Daniels has been studying these dynamics for years. She said when people hear “religion at work,” they tend to think about that coworker who wants to talk about their personal faith or invite you to their house of worship. But beyond wanting to talk about faith, members of the American workforce understand their work — and callings — in terms of their faith.
“American workers are exploring things like meaning, calling, and ethics within a faith framework, seeing their work through the meaning and purpose of their religion,” said Daniels, “which helps them engage work in a more meaningful way.”
Ecklund and Daniels said a lot of policymakers and employers may at first be uneasy — or downright fearful — of having people talk, and share, openly about their faith in the workplace. Thier research concluded that allowing, and encouraging, employees to “bring their faith to work” does not necessarily lead to conflict, but closer relationships and diverse teams performing better, together as members have opportunities to engage their differences and share their strengths.
To strengthen a culture of belonging in their workplace and open up new opportunities for growth, Ecklund and Daniels said leaders have to intentionally engage this facet of their workers’ identities, and do so in a civil, respectful and power-mindful way.
Immigrant churches standing in sacred resistance against Trump’s “shock and awe” immigration policies
“WE ARE FULL of fear, but we are not helpless,” said Giselle, a 40-year-old living in a mixed-status immigrant family in Chicago. “We have the power of God, the power of the church, and the power of the Holy Spirit on our side,” she said.
Giselle is the mother of two children who are U.S. citizens. She is long settled in Chicago, having arrived two decades ago from Michoacán, Mexico. She lives in a three-bedroom apartment in Chicago’s Little Village — known as the “Mexico of the Midwest” or “La Villita” by locals — and works as a bookkeeper and worships at a local Pentecostal church where, she told Sojourners, there are other immigrants without permanent legal status singing next to her on Sundays. She volunteers and donates to local charities and generally tries to be a good neighbor — offering her time, talent, and treasure to others in her little corner of Chicago. Giselle said she has built her life in the U.S. and that her adolescent children know nothing else. “We are proud to be Mexican American, to live life here and be part of this community,” she said.
Like thousands of others across the U.S., Giselle and her family do not know how the Trump administration’s stated mass deportation policies will play out. But as policies are put in place and enforcement efforts ramp up, questions keep running through Giselle’s mind: How will I protect my family? What will happen to my immigration status? How will I be able to seek safety in the U.S.? “These are just some of the questions that handicap my ability to live,” she said.
As the Trump administration continues to implement its mass deportation plans, a swirling vortex of pain, fear, and uncertainty dominates the conversation among immigrants and faith communities across the nation. People of faith are responding with hope, resilience, and a steady resolve to be the best neighbors they can be to immigrants in need.
Public-private partnerships a “catalyst for good”
Pastor Ben Squires did not have “baseless allegations of money laundering by Lutheran social service agencies” on his 2025 bingo card.
And yet, in the early hours of Sunday morning, Feb. 2, Squires found himself reading a flurry of social media posts about Mike Flynn’s unfounded accusations and billionaire Elon Musk’s promise that the Department of Government Efficiency would be “rapidly shutting down” supposedly “illegal payments” to a list of Lutheran groups including Global Refuge (formerly Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services), Pacific Lutheran University, and Lutheran Social Services organizations in Florida, Wisconsin, and South Dakota.
Flynn’s post included screenshots of select Lutheran groups that receive such funds. It is still unclear how or why Flynn singled out these Lutheran groups in his post, or what prompted Musk to presume those payments were illegal.
Each year, billions of federal dollars go to faith-based nonprofits that provide a range of community services, such as housing support, refugee resettlement, or food assistance.
While Squires’ Lutheran Church Missouri Synod congregation in the Chicago village-suburb of Gurnee, Ill., does not receive federal funding nor work directly with Lutheran social service agencies, the posts were painful and shocking.
“These are services that vulnerable people in our congregation and community rely on,” he said. “To see them get attacked for no reason and for the funding to be frozen is really disheartening.”
But more troubling, Squires said, was how the posts represented an attack on the longstanding tradition of Christian community service and neighbor-care.
“Christians have always been doing charitable work, caring for the poor, caring for the dead,” he said. “That’s the DNA of the church, the values the church champions.
“Rather than attacking it or thinking that kind of work takes away from the gospel, why not celebrate that? I just don’t understand.”
Is a far-right party gaining ground among German evangelicals?
Elections in Germany are typically pretty quiet, according to Assemblies of God pastor Timothy Carentz.
Germans are wary of extremism, concerned about propriety, and committed to a principle of political privacy or “electoral secrecy,” which is enshrined in the German constitution. They don’t often put signs up in their yards or get into heated arguments about candidates at the pub.
But this year, following the collapse of Chancellor Olaf Scholz's three-party coalition in November, things have been more heated.
“We’ve noticed people getting more and more vocal,” said Carentz, an American who runs Rhema Café, a coffee shop and ministry center in Kaiserslautern, in southwestern Germany.
There are debates about the economy, which is floundering, and rise of rightwing nationalists in Germany and around the world. People are arguing about immigration and asylum policies, the war in Ukraine, high energy prices, and which politicians (if any) can be trusted to do something to help.
The conversations seem more divisive than usual.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen Germans so active, engaged and opinionated about it all,” Carentz said. “This year, people are putting up banners outside their apartment windows, leaving stickers around town, wanting to hand out brochures and pamphlets.”
Amidst it all, evangelical leaders told Christianity Today, they are focusing on God’s love for all people and the value of every human life—unborn and migrant, in Ukraine, the Middle East, and at home in Germany. And they are praying for Germany’s democracy.
Covering, and Questioning, Anti-Christian Persecution
If you report on religion long enough, you’re bound to be called an anti-Christian bigot at some point in time.
In my 14 years of reporting, I’ve been labeled an atheist agent for my coverage of a book on how Jesus may have been a vegetarian, denounced as a prejudiced partisan as I covered instances of clergy abuse in Houston, Texas, and much worse for my writing on neo-Nazi ideology and racism among Lutherans in Germany and the U.S.
In each case, the critique of my writing was less about the coverage or claims therein, but much more to do with a feeling that anti-Christian bias — and even persecution — in the media is not only real but rampant.
When it comes to the issue of anti-Christian persecution itself, coverage in the media can sometimes swing between two magnetic poles. On one end are those who are convinced that such persecution is the most pressing contemporary human rights issue. On the other are those who equate such statements as melodrama, with little grounding in the lived reality of most communities worldwide.
Journalists covering the issue might be swayed depending upon their sources, who often have a stake in arguing one way or the other.
To best cover the matter of anti-Christian persecution, or to address it when it comes up in critiques of our coverage, reporters have to make two things clear: 1) many individuals and communities across the globe are vulnerable because of their identification as Christians and 2) that the extent of anti-Christian persecution is not as widespread or as grievous as some make it out to be.
To help navigate how to cover particular cases and claims, I recommend journalists consider issues related to power, the shift from “privilege to plurality,” and how Christians use the idea of persecution as a way to make sense of their faith in the 21st century.