Reporting on faith in polarized times

In a slight departure from my usual column at Patheos (“What you missed without religion class”), I was asked by my editors to respond to the following prompt, as part of their new initiative on Faith & Media:

“Faith Amid the Fray: Representing Belief Fairly During Polarized Political Times - Explore the role of media in shaping perceptions of faith during politically charged times. As we have a government in transition and the world becomes less stable, how should the media work to accurately reflect faith’s place in all this? ”

As outgoing president of the Religion News Association and Editor of ReligionLink — a premier resource for journalists writing on religion — I’ve spent time thinking about what religion reporters write about and how it’s best done.

Looking back on my 14 years on the beat, and looking ahead to the role of news media in shaping perceptions of faith in the politically charged times we have ahead of us, I believe religion reporters have the opportunity to approach the next year with “curiosity” — as The New Yorker’s Emma Green put it — and recommit to the balance, accuracy and insight that best characterizes our beat.

I encourage all those who care about faith and media in polarized times to take a deeper look at the link below…

Death, dying, and faith in America

Death, as the cliche goes, is one of life’s few certainties.  

At some point in time, all of us with loved ones will be bereaved by their passing. We will attend services, gather with family and friends, and otherwise memorialize the dead we once knew.  

And, eventually, all of us will die.  

Though death is a universal experience, the nature of death and dying in the United States continues to evolve.   

Thanks to technological advances, shifting healthcare norms, the rearrangement of families, communities and social structures, ongoing differences due to class and race, as well as alterations to America’s religious landscape, death and dying in the U.S. have changed dramatically in recent decades.  

Over the last century, life expectancy has continued (with occasional setbacks) to increase — with the current lifespans lasting an average of 77.5 years — and three-quarters (74.76%) of the nearly 3.1 million deaths in the U.S. in 2023 were to persons aged 65 and older. Death is also a progressively protracted and isolating affair. Occurring after a chronic illness, long-term discomfort, or slow-but-steady cognitive decline, many face the egress alone, as smaller families, divorce rates, and the continuing breakdown of connections among individuals’ social networks leaves many with fragile networks of community and care at the end of their lives.  

And while religion in the U.S. may not be dying, our changing relationship with faith has important implications for how individuals and communities face the end of life in 21st-century America.  

The religious "no" vote

Twenty years ago, John D. Roth thought members of his Anabaptist tradition should stop voting — if only for a season. 

In an essay he distributed among clergy of the Anabaptist movement, which includes pacifist traditions such as the Mennonites, Amish and Hutterites, Roth called for a five-year break from voting to pray and reflect, rather than campaign for one candidate or the other. He argued that the differences between political aspirants were illusory and that in national elections Christians might better fulfill their role by questioning, challenging and discomfiting those holding power, rather than tacitly or explicitly supporting any particular party or person. 

Roth believes his summons to a voting “sabbatical” is just as relevant today. “I wrote that essay 20 years ago, when the deep cultural divisions were just beginning to show up in our churches,” Roth told New Lines. “The idea was that we were in need of a deeper spiritual grounding in the face of the highly polarized political climate. Not surprisingly, that idea went nowhere.”

In a supercharged political landscape with MAGA evangelicals, “Hindus for Harris” and rising numbers of Muslims rallying behind Donald Trump, Jill Stein and Cornel West, it may come as a surprise that some people of faith in the U.S. abstain from voting entirely — or at least don’t take sides. 

But understanding their reservations and motivations, experts say, might speak more to the current state of U.S. politics than any partisan zealotry coming from voters of faith this election cycle.

While MAGA evangelicals — and those who oppose them — get a lot of play in the headlines, there is a steady tradition of Christians abstaining from partisan politics completely, explained Michael Budde, a professor at DePaul University, a private Catholic university in Chicago, who teaches on religion and politics.

“Not all Christians have made their peace with secular powers,” Budde said. Whether it’s the early centuries of the Christian era and monastic dissenters in the desert, those who refused to take up the sword within the church after the Roman Emperor Constantine, or the Catholic Worker Movement and people like Daniel Berrigan, a Catholic Jesuit priest who vigorously opposed the Vietnam War, multiple Christian communities have resisted allowing empires and states to borrow their legitimacy from the church. In addition to these pacifist traditions, there are fundamentalist Christian groups that teach that Christians are not of this world and are not to become involved in its politics.

And this election cycle, a larger number of U.S. Christians seem set to sidestep the ballot box in accordance with their interpretation of the Bible and their evaluation of current politics. According to research from the Cultural Research Center at Arizona Christian University, 104 million “people of faith” might abstain from voting this year — including up to 32 million churchgoing Christians. As political scientist Robert Postic wrote for the evangelical magazine Christianity Today, “given short-term political dynamics or the candidates available, declining to vote can be the best way to reflect our values and acknowledge the importance of an election.”

 “Sometimes, the right choice,” Postic wrote, “may be not voting.”

How Latter-day Saints, Muslims in Michigan, Black Protestants or Latino Catholics might sway the 2024 election

In the lead-up to the 2024 elections, white Christian nationalists and “MAGA evangelicals” are sucking up a lot of the air in the religion media space.

And for good reason. As Tobin Miller Shearer of the University of Montana wrote for The Conversation: 

In the 2016 race, evangelical voters contributed, in part, to Republican nominee Donald Trump’s victory. Those Americans who identified as “weekly churchgoers” not only showed up at the polls in large numbers, but more than 55% of them supported Trump. His capture of 66% of the white evangelical vote also tipped the scales in his favor against his Democratic rival, Hillary Clinton.

Evangelicals look set to support the former president in outsized numbers again — with a Pew Research Survey indicating 82% of white evangelical Protestants are likely to vote for Trump in November — and a significant “subset of Christian nationalists, which some suggest amounts to roughly 10% of the US population,” are rallying around him as they push “for Christianity to be the official, dominant religion of the US.”

But religious Americans from other backgrounds and traditions, such as Catholics, mainliners and Black Protestants — whom Bob Smietana and Jack Jenkins of RNS called “swing state faith voters” — could also prove critical to electoral victory due to their influence in key swing states. 

In this edition of ReligionLink, we offer a roundup of stories, perspectives and sources from a broad swath of faith constituencies around the U.S., addressing questions such as: How might Hindus be approaching local and state elections? How might Muslims in swing states prove decisive for the Electoral College? How might the nonreligious approach key ballot issues differently from others? 

Religion, Immigration and the 2024 Elections

Over the last six months, I’ve been covering religion and immigration for Sojourners Magazine.

I traveled to Tijuana, Mexico, Lampedusa, Italy, southern Arizona and downtown Los Angeles to hear from migrants making their way. I heard from Muslim aid workers on the front lines providing sanctuary and nuns serving the vulnerable asylum seekers living on the streets of Skid Row. I sat with mothers weeping over their children and praying for safe passage at a cemetery just meters from the bollard-steel border wall that rips through the Sonoran wilderness like a rust-colored wound. 

In my latest for ReligionLink and as part of my “What You Missed Without Religion Class” series at Patheos, I reflect on what you need to know about faith and immigration ahead of the 2024 elections.

Crime and perception: Religion, public safety and the 2024 elections

On the second day of the recent Republican National Convention the theme was “Make America Safe Again.”

Addressing those gathered in Milwaukee, U.S. House Speaker Mike Johnson, a Louisiana Republican and evangelical, warned against the threat the “radical left” posed to what he said were long-held American “principles of faith, family and freedom.”

Linking those principles to Americans’ safety, Johnson promised Republicans would remain “the law and order team.”

“We always have been — and we always will be — the advocates for the rule of law,” Johnson said.

But since the beginning of 2024, violent crime is down across the U.S. According to the FBI, there was a 15% overall decline in violent crime over the last several months and decreases in the rates of murder and rape (nearly 26%), robbery (18%), property crime (15%) and aggravated assault (12%).

Why then do more than half (54%) of U.S. voters — and nearly three-fourths (74%) of registered Republicans — consider crime a “major factor” in their considerations of who will be president?

Part of that, as CBS News’ Camilo Montoya-Galvez explains, is due to perceptions about the danger of incoming immigrants and increased numbers of encounters along the U.S.-Mexico border.

But as this edition of ReligionLink explores, religious adherence can also help explain the fear factor ahead of November’s elections and why Republican presidential candidate Donald J. Trump has much to gain from Americans’ anxiety around crime and public safety in 2024.

What faith and immigration leaders are saying about Kamala Harris' candidacy

The prospect of Kamala Harris becoming the Democratic nominee in August — and the possibility of a Harris presidency in 2025 — shook up the race for president last week.

And among faith leaders, it has reinvigorated hopes that her leadership could signal a commitment to both the rights and dignity of immigrants, as well as a secure, well-managed border.

Many fear a Donald Trump presidency and what it might mean for migrants already living in the U.S. or arriving at its borders. But President Joe Biden’s decidedly mixed record has also garnered condemnation from faith leaders who called his most recent executive orders — severely restricting most asylum claims at the border and expediting the removal of unauthorized migrants — as “cruel and racist.”

And though people of faith — and the wider U.S. population — want comprehensive immigration reform with increasing urgency, the practicalities of bipartisan legislation have remained elusive for multiple administrations, Republican and Democrat.

The end result is a status quo at the border that leaders like Dylan Corbett find unacceptable and hope Harris might be able to change.

“We need a new approach to managing migration at the border, one that works for our country, for border communities and the next generation of American immigrants looking to raise their families with dignity,” said the executive director of Hope Border Institute, an organization working to advance justice on the border in El Paso, Tx.

When asked what he expected from Harris on immigration in the months to come, Corbett emphasized that responsibility to reform the country’s immigration system lies with all sides. “Both parties need to undertake a serious examination of conscience on immigration policy, which has been needlessly politicized, to the detriment of all;” he said, “humane and safe immigration policies are possible and within reach.

“The only thing lacking is political leadership,” he said.

Is Tampa the new Dearborn?

While the city’s Islamic infrastructure is dynamic, the community’s mix of progressive values and social conservatism makes it an outlier in a polarized ideological landscape.

Ashraf “Ash” Ayyash, owner and operator of The Fryer House foodtruck in Temple Terrace, Fla. (PHOTO: Ken Chitwood)

“You’ve got to try The Fryer House,” Aaysha Kapila told me via the Tampa Halal Food Facebook group. “It’s new on the scene, but it’s amazing.” The “scene” in question? Tampa’s market for halal food. And The Fryer House, a food truck that opened in December 2023, is one of the newest on it, offering a fusion of Arab, Asian and American Southern fried chicken — from hot chicken sandwiches to fiery golden tenders to chicken and waffles.

Blending Palestinian spices with Japanese styles and Latin American peppers, the food truck’s owner, Ashraf “Ash” Ayyash, says his brand of “halal hot chicken” has proved a hit. While his customers come from a cross-section of Tampa society, many are Arabs and South Asian Muslims looking for a spicy, sumptuous, halal option for lunch or dinner. During Ramadan, Ayyash said, he cooked thousands of pounds of chicken. At a series of major local events during the month of fasting — Ramadan Suhoor Nights — he averaged 300 pounds per night.

Sitting underneath Ayyash’s menu with its hot, very hot and “pepper x” levels of spiciness, a slim, 30-something Palestinian American named Zyad is snacking on some of Ayyash’s specially seasoned french fries. This, he says, is one of his favorite options in Temple Terrace, a city on the northeast side of Tampa Bay and epicenter of its robust halal food scene. “There’s a Yemeni place down the road, several shawarma options, an Arab grocery store, a Turkish grocery store, bakeries, clothing stores, restaurants, food trucks. The list goes on,” he told New Lines.

“Tampa,” Zyad said, “is like the new Dearborn,” referring to Dearborn, Michigan, the first Arab-majority city in the U.S. and home to the largest mosque in North America.

Though there are no official statistics, estimates of Tampa’s Muslim community range between 5,000 or 6,000 in the Temple Terrace-New Tampa area alone, to upward of 36,000 or as high as 100,000 in the greater Tampa Bay area, which includes St. Petersburg and Clearwater.

Community statistics show an estimated 500,000 Muslims in Florida and over 150 mosques and Islamic centers across the state, from the Keys in the south to Pensacola on the panhandle. And they cut the cross section of Muslim-American society: Almost one-third were born in the U.S., with the remaining 69% coming from places like Pakistan and India, Egypt and Palestine, Guyana and Puerto Rico. The Tampa Bay area is home to tens of thousands of Muslims from over 80 different countries.

Especially around Busch Boulevard and 56th Street, not far from the Busch Gardens amusement park and the main campus of the University of South Florida (USF), Tampa’s Islamic infrastructure is dense, a testament to its rarely recognized, but consistently growing, Muslim community. Not only are numerous mosques and several of the nation’s premier Islamic schools in and around Temple Terrace, but there are also law offices with signs in Arabic and Urdu, numerous halal restaurants, Middle Eastern barber shops, Ramadan decor hanging in shop windows and a large halal slaughterhouse named Musa’s.

Abdullah Jaber at CAIR’s offices in Temple Terrace, Fla. (PHOTO: Ken Chitwood)

“I would estimate around 70% of the businesses in the Temple Terrace area are Muslim-owned,” said Imam Abdullah Jaber, executive director of CAIR Florida, the Sunshine State’s chapter of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, a civil liberties organization whose offices are also in Temple Terrace. “There are Muslims heading the Chamber of Commerce, professors at local universities, dentists, physicians, you name it.”

They are also shaping local, state and national elections with the growing political power that comes with such a presence. But that influence is far from monolithic: The Muslim community’s shifting political crosscurrents and fault lines mean it doesn’t align neatly with either camp in the country’s increasingly polarized landscape. “I think you can be socially conservative and yet be an advocate for social and racial justice,” Jaber told New Lines.

“Maybe that’s impossible with America’s current politics, but I think Tampa is leading the way here. It’s a model for American Muslim life.”

How then shall we live, when the world is on fire?

Climate change is happening.

I am not a scientist. Nor do I pretend to be. But drawing on information taken from natural sources — like ice cores, rocks, and tree rings — recorded by satellites, and processed with the aid of the most advanced computer processors the world has ever known, NASA experts report “there is unequivocal evidence that Earth is warming at an unprecedented rate” and that “[h]uman activity is the principal cause.” 

From global temperature rise to melting ice sheets, glacial retreat to sea levels rising, the evidence of a warming planet abounds. While Earth’s climate has fluctuated throughout history, the current season of warming is happening at a rate not seen in 10 millennia — 10,000 years.

Many of the undergraduate students in courses introducing them to religious traditions — Islam, Christianity or otherwise — have no reservations about climate change and its disastrous effects on the environment and the most vulnerable in human society. In my classrooms, there is a palpable fear about the planet’s future. 

It is little wonder, then, that students often ask how religious actors interpret their sacred texts and confessions or how they, in turn, address climate change or engage with the environment. 

What they discover can often be disappointing — if not infuriating.

Faith & Politics: Your Religion Guide to the 2024 Elections

With just a few months to go until the U.S. holds elections on Nov. 5, 2024, reporters covering the intersections of religion and politics will face a common challenge: how to write about the varied politics of people of faith and cover the diverse roles religion(s) will play in this election.

White evangelicals, and the conflation of their faith with political conservatism in general, tend to dominate religion-related election news, to the neglect of other religious communities — Christian and otherwise.

In this edition of ReligionLink, we take a different approach. Rather than focusing on any one tradition, we break down ideas, sources and resources for reporting on the top issues at stake in the 2024 election(s).

Looking at seven issues from the perspective of diverse faith traditions in the U.S. — and the particular intersection of identifications, institutions and ideals they represent — helps us better get a sense of how religion may, or may not, play a role in determining the shape and outcome of this year’s vote.

AI is coming to your house of worship...if it isn't already there

When London imam Asim Khan asked ChatGPT, an artificial intelligence chatbot developed by OpenAI,  to write a khutbah (sermon) on taqwa (God consciousness) that lasts 10 minutes, he was surprised by the results, which left him “lost for words.” The generative AI program provided a sermon that was not only lucid, but eloquent.

He posted the video on X (formerly known as Twitter). While some commenters warned that AI would be “more harm than good” and that “Shaikh AI” should not replace the counsel of trained Islamic scholars, Khan also joked that his career might be over given how well ChatGPT responded to the prompt.

Jokes and gimmicks aside, there are now entire websites devoted to providing AI tools for pastors, preachers and other religious leaders looking to get a leg up on sermon prep.  At Sermonoutline.ai — owned and operated by Sermon Central and its parent company, Outreach Inc. — pastors are promised an AI sermon generator that can produce “biblical preaching” for their next Sunday service. For just $7.50 a month, subscribers have access to sermon outlines, starter ideas and full sermon manuscripts “using the power of AI,” according to the site.

Perhaps aware of potential apprehension, one of the site’s FAQs is: “What if my church finds out I used this site?” The response:

Sermon Outline AI is a reference tool for preachers. … Preaching in any context requires knowing your audience and making your material personal. Sermon Outline AI can’t do that, only the preacher can. If your church finds out you’re here, great! They’ll know you value your time.

Beyond writing Friday khutbahs and Sunday sermons, AI has numerous practical applications for religious communities and in worship spaces, say some leaders. At an Exponential Conference at First Baptist Church Orlando in March 2024, speakers Kenny Jahng, Yvonne Carlson, Josh Burnett and Corey Alderin talked about how AI could be used to boost a church’s community engagement, provide virtual worship services and create small-group Bible study guides.

As ethical reflections among religious leaders over AI’s use in everything from fatwas and Bible translation to the creation of autonomous weaponry and surveillance continues, communities of all kinds are adopting it — or adapting to it — as AI seems set to become a banal aspect of our everyday social, economic and religious lives (or already is).

Debates about the best ethical approach — including whether an AI religion can save or doom us all — will intensify. In the meantime, pastors are using it to edit sermons, and there is Robo Rabbi for the Jewish faith; KhalsaGPT for Sikhs; Mindar, an android priest, for Buddhism; and a multilingual Islamic chatbot named “Ansari” offering spiritual remedies and Islamic perspectives in Arabic, Bahasa Indonesian, Bosnian, English, French, Turkish, Urdu and other languages. Perhaps appealing to the growing ranks of the “spiritual but not religious,” ChatwithGod.ai wants to expand access to spiritual guidance for seekers from all religious backgrounds. It promises to “engage in conversation” with users “receiving personalized religious verses and comfort.”

While much of the conversation around AI — and generative AI in particular — can be alarmist, this resource focuses on the technology’s increasingly common uses in religious communities and places of worship around the world.

It provides background, related stories, sources and relevant resources for understanding how AI is already impacting the everyday realities of our spiritual lives.

On the Frontiers of Psychedelic-Assisted Chaplaincy and Spiritual Care

Hannah remembers exactly where she was when she got the news her father was killed by a hit-and-run driver. Out for dinner and drinks with friends in Seattle, she noticed the missed call first. Then, the text messages from her older sister. When she stepped outside to talk to her mom on the phone, her father was already gone.

“I just stood there, frozen,” the 38-year-old said, “looking out and taking in the details. The way the sidewalk smelled after recent rain. The squeaking sound of the restaurant door as it swung open. The way a red light reflected off a puddle across the street. Every detail just singed into my memory.”

But Hannah could not remember the weeks and months that followed. “There was just a blur, a blank spot,” she said. There were family gatherings, a funeral, boxes of photos, and other details that Hannah struggled to recall.

Though the particulars were missing, the despair she felt only deepened. After a couple of years, her prolonged feelings of sadness and hopelessness drove her to seek therapy. She was prescribed antidepressants, but nothing seemed to help. Hannah withdrew from her church community and friends, developed anger management issues, and struggled with suicidal thoughts.

But then, Hannah came across a 2013 study from the University of South Floridaabout how psilocybin, the psychedelic compound found in “magic mushrooms,” can stimulate nerve cell growth in parts of the brain responsible for emotion and memory.

She sought out a counselor in Oregon who could guide her as she used psilocybin to access aspects of her memory she wanted to get in touch with again to help process the pain she continued to feel at the loss of her dad. More than psychological treatment, however, Hannah was also seeking spiritual solace. She did not want simply to recall the facts or feelings of her intense grief; Hannah was in search of something deeper: “I wanted to remember, to see how God was at work even then, in one of the darkest moments of my life.”

Now a spiritual director who offers similar services in the Seattle area, Hannah is part of a growing number of Christians, Jews, Buddhists, and others seeking out psychedelic-assisted chaplaincy and spiritual care to address psychological trauma and unanswered spiritual questions. Some, in search of mystical experiences, are also looking for unexplored avenues of spiritual connection to process suffering or to encounter the divine.

As part of a more general renaissance of interest in the potential medicinal and spiritual benefits psychedelics may provide, a slew of researchers, chaplains, theologians, and spiritual care professionals are asking questions about how substances like psilocybin connect the potency of mystical experience with the promise, and possibility, of mental healing.

They hope that in the next decade or so, new studies, therapies, and theological revolutions will lead to a breakthrough in the use of psychedelics for religious insight and remedial spiritual care.

A Cross In The Barbed Wire: Mixed Reflections On Faith & Immigration

In February 2019, Miguel stared out at the San Pedro Valley in Mexico, stretching for miles below him from his position on Yaqui Ridge in the Coronado National Monument. Standing at Monument 102, which marks the symbolic start of the 800-mile-long Arizona Trail, Miguel remarked on how the border here doesn’t look like what most people imagine.

Instead of 30-foot bollards, all one finds is mangled barbed wire to mark the divide between Arizona and Sonora. Here hikers can dip through a hole in the fence to cross into Mexico, take their selfie, and pop back over.

“It’s as easy as that,” Miguel said, with a melancholic chuckle.

But for Miguel’s mother the crossing was not only difficult — it was deadly. She perished trying to find her way to the U.S. across the valley’s wilderness when Miguel was just four years old and already living in the U.S. with his father.

Not knowing exactly where she died, Monument 102 became a makeshift memorial for Miguel’s mother, the obelisk marking the U.S./Mexico border a kind of gravestone. The barbed wire itself even holds meaning for Miguel. “When I come every year to remember her,” he said, “and the knots in the barbed wire remind me of the cross.

“It may sound strange, but that gives me comfort,” he said.

Miguel is far from alone in making religion a part of the migrant’s journey. As migrants move around, across and through borders and the politics that surround them, religious symbols, rituals, materials and infrastructures help them make meaning, find solace and navigate their everyday, lived experience in the borderlands.

With immigration proving a top issue for voters in the U.S. and Europe this year, this edition of What You Missed Without Religion Class explores the numerous intersections between religion and migration.

Language, Preaching, and the Politics of Immigration

How does the language preachers, politicians or reporters use impact the kind of immigration policies we might make or opinions we have about migrants themselves?

In my first two pieces as Faith and Immigration Reporter at Sojourners magazine, I take a look at both issues.

In the one, I explore how more than colloquial conundrum, the language we use determines the policies we support and the theologies we hold about people crossing borders.

In the other, I talk to pastors and theologians about how they are navigating the political polarization around the topic from their pulpits.

Feast or fast, food and faith

“You’d think we’d lose weight during Ramadan,” said Amina, a registered dietician who observes the Islamic month of fasting each year in Arizona, “but you’d be wrong.”

Ramadan, the ninth month of the lunar calendar, is a month of fasting for Muslims across the globe. Throughout the month, which starts this year around March 11, observers do not eat or drink from dawn to sunset.

“It sounds like a recipe for weight loss,” Amina said, “but you’d be wrong. I’ve found it’s much more common for clients — of all genders and ages — to gain weight during the season.”

The combined result of consuming fat-rich foods at night when breaking the fast (iftar), numerous celebratory gatherings with family and friends, decreased physical activity and interrupted sleep patterns means many fasters are surprised by the numbers on the scale when the festival at the end of the month (Eid al-Fitr) comes around.

Christians observing the traditional fasting period of Lent (February 14 - March 30, 2024) can also experience weight gain as they abstain from things like red meat or sweets. Despite popular “Lent diets” and conversations around getting “shredded” during the fasting season, many struggle with their weight during the penitential 40-days prior to Easter, the celebration of Jesus’ resurrection.

The convergence of the fasting seasons for two of the world’s largest religions meet this month, and people worrying about weight gain during them, got me thinking about the wider relevance of food to faith traditions.

And so, in two pieces — one for ReligionLink and the other for Patheos — I take a deeper look at how foodways might help us better understand this thing we call “religion” more broadly.

Piano, piano: In Europe, evangelicals are divided over the right relationship with Rome.

Leonardo De Chirico is in an ongoing argument with the Italian government about the “intrinsic characteristics” of religious buildings.

The evangelical pastor insists that Breccia di Roma (Breach of Rome), which is located in a simple storefront about a kilometer from the Colosseum, is a church. Christians meet there regularly to pray, praise God, and listen to the preaching of the Word. The national tax authority has noted, though, that the multifunctional space, which also houses a theological library and a missions training center, does not have the vaulted ceilings, stained glass, raised altar, candles, or saint statues commonly associated with churches in the majority-Catholic country and therefore doesn’t qualify for religious tax exemptions.

“The arguments are silly and poor,” De Chirico told CT. “The pictures they showed were of impressive buildings, but we showed that Muslim prayer rooms are simple and some Catholic churches meet in shops. Synagogues look like our space. They are all tax-exempt. We are not asking for privilege. We are not asking for something that others don’t have.”

This conflict has been going on since 2016. A lower court sided with the Reformed Baptist church, but the tax authority filed an appeal. The case is now going to Italy’s Supreme Court.

But tax-exempt status is not the most serious disagreement De Chirico has with Italians about what a church is. In 2014, he wrote a pamphlet critiquing the papacy. In 2021, the Reformed pastor and theology chair of the Italian Evangelical Alliance wrote a book arguing that the “theological framework of Roman Catholicism is not faithful to the biblical gospel.”

So it frustrated him, to say the least, when Thomas Schirrmacher, the head of the World Evangelical Alliance (WEA), joined an ecumenical prayer vigil in St. Peter’s Square, Vatican City, in September. It seemed to him that the secretary general of the global evangelical association was embracing the spiritual leadership of Pope Francis and endorsing a vision of unity not grounded in the gospel.

“When you pray with someone in public, you are saying that the differences between our theologies are mere footnotes,” De Chirico said. “Dialogue is welcome, but there are core differences we cannot forget or ignore.”

In my latest for Christianity Today, I take a look at how European evangelicals approach church planting, ecumenical dialogue and other issues in contexts where Catholicism remains predominant.

What's behind the rising hate?

At the end of last year, the uptick in antisemitic and Islamophobic incidents in the U.S. and around the globe captured headlines as part of the fallout from the Israel-Hamas war.

Reactions were swift and widespread, as university presidents resigned, demonstrators took to the streets in places such as Berlin and Paris and the White House promised to take steps to curb religious and faith-based hate in the U.S.

The topic of rising discrimination and incidents of hate remains contentious, as political polarization and debate over definitions challenge reporters covering the issues.

But before we come to conclusions, it’s important to consider a) what we are talking about - or - how we define antisemitism and Islamophobia and b) the long arc of “Other” hate across time.

In the latest editions of ReligionLink and “What You Missed Without Religion Class,” I unpack both so we can better understand and react to the surge in hate.

Tomorrow’s religion news, today

At the beginning of last year, I predicted the Pope would be big news in 2023.

While I thought it would be because of his declining health and increased age, it turned out that Pope Francis had big plans to cement his long-term hopes for renewal, which are likely to outlast his pontifical reign.

In 2023, Pope Francis remained busy, traveling widely, convening a historic synod, denouncing anti-LGBTQ+ laws and approving letting priests bless same-sex couples, overseeing the Vatican repudiation of the Doctrine of Discovery and facing various controversies.

For all the above, he was named 2023’s Top Religion Newsmaker by members of the Religion News Association, a 74-year-old association for reporters who cover religion in the news media.

Beyond Francis and the Vatican, there were other major headlines in 2023: the Israel-Hamas war, along with the rise in antisemitic and Islamophobic incidents in the U.S. and around the globe, ongoing legislative and legal battles following last year's Supreme Court ruling overturning Roe v. Wade, the exodus of thousands of congregations from the United Methodist Church and the nationwide political debates over sexuality and transgender rights and the Anglican Communion verging on schism.

While it is one thing to look back on the top religion stories of the year, what about predicting — as I did with the Pope — what will be the big religion news in 2024?

In 2024, we will see ongoing wars in places like Gaza, Ukraine, Yemen and Nargono-Karabakh continuing to capture headlines. So too the state of antisemitism and anti-Muslim discrimination. The ubiquity and uncertainty of artificial intelligence should also be on our radars, as should news related to the intersections of spirituality and climate change, the fate of global economies and how religious communities adapt to the ruptures and realignments associated with an increasingly multipolar world.

For more on my predictions, as well as additional sources and resources to explore, click the link below.

And to go even deeper into 2024’s religion predictions, you can explore my analysis of religion’s role in ongoing conflicts, upcoming elections and more by checking out my column, “What You Missed Without Religion Class.”

Contradictory Conditions: Jewish Life in East Germany, Past and Present

It’s a decidedly blustery day on Karl Marx Street in Eisenach, in the eastern German state of Thuringia. Gold and rust-tinted leaves scatter the ground of a small park marking the site of the town’s former synagogue—burned down by a Nazi mob on Kristallnacht, the nationwide pogroms on November 9, 1938.

Tucked away in a quiet corner not far from Eisenach’s theater, the memorial is one of 32 sites across Thuringia—spots where synagogues were desecrated or destroyed that night in 1938. Of the many previously active synagogues, only a few remain today. Only one has been rebuilt for weekly services. The others are marked by memorial stones and stairways leading to nowhere—including empty lots or garden plots, apartment buildings, and even a grocery store. Where the small town of Vacha’s synagogue once stood, there is now a hobby shop.

These places dot the east German landscape, from Potsdam to Zwickau, Dresden to Magdeburg. Along with other memorials like Stolpersteine—stones with brass plates bearing the names of Holocaust (Shoah) victims, laid in the pavement in front of their former homes and businesses—they stand as stark reminders of the absent presence of the region’s once thriving Jewish population. They are places where the palpable influence of eastern Germany’s Jews remains potent, even where they are no longer present.

They also signal the Jewish community’s present absence. Since the Shoah, under sometimes radically conflicting conditions, a range of diverse Jews have returned, resettled, and restored a sense of Jewish life across the former East German Republic (GDR). But the community is less-than-half what it was in pre-war Germany.

In places like Berlin, Leipzig, and Erfurt, Jews’ stories over the last century speak to lives lived between far-right politics and those of the far-left, communism and capitalism, growth and decline, remembrance culture (Erinnerungskultur) and an ominously encroaching antisemitism. Looking at East Germany–past and present–through Jewish eyes reveals today’s controversies are nothing new.

The challenges Jews in Germany faced following the Holocaust, including perils to their very existence, have shaped Jewish lives in the east for decades. The story of how under such conditions they still preserved their heritage is decades long. Now, facing declining demographics, a resurgent antisemitism, and fearing a far-right political turn, eastern Germany’s Jewish communities are once again under threat. And, once more, they are not only preserving their heritage, but claiming their place in German society.

Religion+Culture Top 23 Books of 2023

When I started 2023, I was on a high. Maybe you were too. Maybe, like me, you were thinking, “Wow, 2023 is going to be…amazing!”

But as I snuck outside of the house in the Swedish countryside where I was celebrating the New Year with friends, I made a phone call that immediately changed things.

All the plans, dreams, and hopes for the year to come were put on hold. Or, at least, on standby.

As 2023 unfolded, we lost loved ones. We witnessed some pretty horrible moments around the world. Our families changed forever. Life transitions came and went. And as the year comes to a close, we realize nothing is going to be the same. The earth has shifted. The tectonic equations of how to navigate this life have changed.

The way 2023 played out meant that I didn’t read as much as I usually would over the year. I wasn’t as productive. The pages weren’t turned as quickly.

Nevertheless, these books saw me through. Amidst the change, I turned to wisdom and insight from authors who knew better than me. I enjoyed some fun ones too — books that took me out of where I was and helped me imagine another world.

After all, that is the power good books hold.

I hope, no matter what 2023 was like for you, that you had the chance to read some good books.

Whether the year was wonderful, the worst, or decidedly in between, I hope reading helped you get here. I know I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for the books I’ve read, in 2023 or any other year.

And so, without further adieu, here are my top 23 books of 2023 (some new, some old), in the order I read them:

• The Caliph and the Imam, by Toby Matthiesen (2023) - A monumental review of the 1,400-year-long complicated relationship between Sunni and Shii.

• Testimony: Inside the Evangelical Movement that Failed a Generation, by Jon Ward (2023) - In this enlightening memoir, Ward recounts a life caught between being an evangelical and being a political correspondent.

• Gropius: The Man Who Built the Bauhaus, by Fiona McCarthy (2019) - A detailed recounting of the life of a man who helped make late-modernity what it is.

• Covering Muslims: American Newspapers in Comparative Perspective, by Erik Bleich and A. Maurits van der Veen (2023) - Testing to what extent stories about Muslims are negative in comparison to average media coverage, the authors find the bulk to be “resoundingly negative.” The question remains, what are we going to do about it?

• Catching Bullets: Memoirs of a Bond Fan, by Mark O’Connell (2012) - “A unique and sharply-observed love-letter to James Bond.”

• The Golden Treasury of Scottish Verse, edited by Kathleen Jamie, Don Paterson and Peter Mackay (2021) - You haven’t lived until you’ve been able to discern the resonant meaning of a Gaelic ballad.

• Rooted Globalism, by Kevin Funk (2022) - Funk’s book sheds fresh light on the landscapes of interconnection between Latin America and the Middle East and the economic, political, and social orders that animate them.

• Berlin: Absolute Stadt, by Rolf Lindner (2016) - Shines a stark light on the simultaneity of city and people, technical and mental change, that defines the character of Berlin and Berliners.

• Punk! Revolution: An Oral History of Punk Rock Politics and Activism, by John Malkin (2023) - A riveting insiders’ history of punk’s charged relationship with social change.

• The Evangelical Imagination, by Karen Swallow Prior (2023) - A perceptive analysis of the literature, art, and popular culture that has shaped what evangelicalism is and provides fodder to reimagine what it might become.

• Harlem World: How Hip Hop’s Showdown Changed Music Forever, by Jonathan Mael (2023) - Mael unpacks how lyrical flair, and new techniques like record-scratching, elevated hip hop from the city’s streets to airwaves across the world.

• Vodou en Vogue: Fashioning Black Divinities in Haiti and the United States, by Eziaku Atuama Nwokocha (2023) - An innovative take on how fashion shows religion to be a “multisensorial experience of engagement with what the gods want and demand.”

• What is ‘Islamic’ Art? by Wendy M. Shaw (2019) - Shaw adroitly explores the perception of arts through the discursive sphere of historical Muslim texts, philosophy, and poetry.

• Berlin: Story of a City, by Barney White-Spunner (2020) - As the title promises, this is a narrative retelling of how Berlin came to be “Berlin.”

• Cosmic Scholar, by John Szwed (2023) - Brilliantly captures the life and legacy of the enigmatic filmmaker, folklorist, painter, producer, anthropologist, archivist, Kabbalist, and alchemist Harry Smith (1923–1991).

• Fifth Sun: A New History of the Aztecs, by Camilla Townsend (2019) - Dispels some of the most long-lasting myths about Mexica culture, in an approachable and convincing manner.

• Ripples of the Universe: Spirituality in Sedona, Arizona, by Susannah Crockford (2021) - An intimate portrait of the politics, economics, and everyday realities of New Age spirituality in the northern Arizona tourist town.

• Vibe: The Sound and Feeling of Black Life in the American South, by Corey J. Miles (2023) - Deeply and deftly examines Blackness in the American South through the prism of “trap music.”

• Thrilling Cities, by Ian Fleming (1959) - A timepiece of travel writing from the creator of James Bond.

• Another Country: Jewish in the GDR, by the Jewish Museum of Berlin (2023) - A revealing exhibition book that explores what it was like to be Jewish in East Germany.

• Across the Worlds of Islam: Muslim Identities, Beliefs, and Practices from Asia to America, edited by Edward E. Curtis IV (2023) - Centers the stories of Muslim practices, perspectives and people too often marginalized in both popular and academic imagination.

• Temple Folk, by Aaliyah Bilal (2023) - A compassionate collection of stories that shows the humanity of the Nation of Islam — its faults, foibles, and the people who fell between.

• Dos metros cuadrados de piel, by Ramona de Jesús (2021) - Raw, honest, and — in the truest sense of the word — poetic to the bone.