“The Cartoons That Shook the World,” Jytte Klausen's forthcoming book on the Danish cartoon controversy, won't include the images that sparked the 2005 uproar. But the news that Yale University Press chose not to print the illustrations has barely been reported. I say “barely” because the 100-or-so stories on the press' decision is a paltry number in comparison to the 1200-plus pieces on another “controversial” artistic expression—Miley Cyrus' pole dance.

The initial New York Times piece roused some interest, but the story didn't gain legs until Christopher Hitchens lambasted Yale's “censorship.” Since then, several other conservative commentators have taken up Hitchens' critique. See, for example, the Jihad Report  the Weekly Standard and Roger's Rules.

This largely one-sided outburst begs the question: What's the story behind the story? John Donatich, the director of the press, said he was afraid of instigating violence. But Reza Aslan—author of several books on Islam—told the Times that rationale was “idiotic.” Aslan said, “This is an academic book for an academic audience by an academic press. There is no chance of this book having a global audience, let alone causing a global outcry.”

Yale may be “idiotic” and, as Aslan added, “cowardly,” but American conservatives know just what they're doing. Their call for academic freedom also sounds an alarm against Muslim extremism, reminding readers how different they are from us. But Klausen's book argues that the cartoons—largely unnoticed when they first appeared—were used by a small band of political activists to stir up anti-Western sentiment. Hmm—somewhat akin to the turnaround now occurring? That's not to excuse Yale, just to suggest there are multiple agendas at work.

So if Yale wants to rein in potential offensiveness and conservatives want to reanimate a polarizing provocation, what's with progressives?

Could be they're too busy with healthcare to notice anything else? Might be they're tone-deaf to the conservative use/abuse of the news media? Maybe they just don't know where to stand on this issue? Censoring religious images falls right at the fault lines of our First Amendment. Yale's decision is too important for any of us to ignore.

Diane Winston

In 1969, advance sale tickets for Woodstock cost $18. Eighteen is the Hebrew number signifying life, and 40 years later Woodstock's legacy is not just alive but thriving.
 
You can read about parts of that heritage in Steve Rabey's piece on the festival's “spiritual vibes.” Rabey quotes historians, journalists and pop culture pundits who analyze the changing ideas about God and the good life that Woodstock help set in motion.

Most feed the Age of Aquarius, back-to the-garden-in-blue-jeans narrative that passes for Woodstock's spiritual legacy. After August 1969, pastors could wear Hawaiian shirts in church, hold yoga classes on weekdays and focus on feeling good instead of doing good. The rest of us were free to try therapy, designer drugs and Tantric sex positions.

But Woodstock's impact on the white evangelical community has been woefully understudied and marginally reported. Dovetailing with the rise of the Jesus People, the three-day festival helped evangelical leaders to see how the counterculture could, albeit counter-intuitively, save the Baby Boom generation.

Their subsequent crusade encompassed everything from organizing a “Religious Woodstock”  to seeding contemporary Christian music to growing new denominations. Just look at the Willow Creek association, the network of Calvary Chapels or the Vineyard Fellowship to see the campaign's ongoing impact.

These developments have a lot more social and political valence than do recordings of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and the resurgence of tie-dye T-shirts. Jesus kids may have worn long hair and beads in the 70s, but they looked clean-cut when they started families, purchased homes and climbed the corporate ladder in the '80s and '90s. Their lifestyle changed but their religious fervor didn't. According to historian Preston Shires, they became “the hippies of the religious right.”

If that connection seems a little strong, it is safe to say that they are now the conservative evangelical rank-and-file: Baby Boomers who, to the consternation of the woo-woo, lefty Woodstock cohort, oppose same-sex marriage and health care reform.

So if you're thinking of getting back to the garden, make sure you know which one you're stepping into.

This past weekend, the New York Times ran a front-page story on the health-and-wealth gospel. If you missed Laurie Goodstein's feature, have a look-see. The prospects for “the gospel of getting rich” might seem bleak given today's battered economy. But Goodstein finds their message—give a little to God and get lots more back—”reassuring to many in hard times.”  

In her colorful overview, Goodstein visits a Fort Worth crusade held by prosperity preacher Kenneth Copeland. Copeland tells supporters that by giving to God, God will give back healthy bodies and bank accounts. Accordingly, Goodstein interviews families who, despite financial setbacks, donate regularly to the ministry. But she doesn't mention Copeland's comments on health care—a relevant political angle in a religion story.

Here's what Jonathan Walton reported in Religion Dispatches:

“Over 5,000 persons from across the country packed into the Fort Worth Convention Center to hear Copeland and the Word of Faith line-up proclaim their message of divine health and wealth. Yet when it came to President Obama's plan for health care reform—a plan that would greatly assist the vast majority of working-class and underemployed conference attendees—Kenneth Copeland was excessive in his disdain for government-run health care.

“'Socialism' seemed to be Copeland's favorite term throughout the week as he warned the crowd to reject any government assistance. 'Sickness and death,' according to Copeland, 'is not a medical problem, it's a spiritual problem.'”

Goodstein gives readers lots of color and characters but not enough context or currency. When Copeland tells 5,000 believers that the government is getting ready to “start killing 70-year-olds,” that's news.

Want more on this convoluted spawn of Christianity and capitalism? See Anthea Butler's overview; Jonathan Walton's pop quiz; Milmon Harrison's Righteous Riches, and Andrew Brown's musings on the link between the prosperity gospel and the health care debate.

Diane Winston
 

by Andrea Tabor

They should have been pretty standard stories: National Football Hall of Fame inductions and the Teen Choice Awards. But this year, these seemingly harmless headlines from the Sports and Entertainment sections are ruffling feathers across the blogosphere.

The problem? Faith freeze. When religion crosses into everyday life—entering the realms of law, education, politics, sports and entertainment—reporters tend to freeze it out.

Toni Monkovic, a sports blogger for the New York Times, complained that the 2009 HOF induction speeches were boring and over-saturated with religion. Many readers disagreed with Monkovic's assessment. “Maybe if you played pro football and saw your teammates bang up with concussions, broken necks and bad knees,” one commenter wrote, “You would thank Jesus or some other higher power for keeping you relatively safe and alive.”

Kudos to Kerry Byrne of the sports blog Cold Hard Football Facts. Byrne provided a thorough analysis of the religious speeches and their place in NFL—and American—culture. “In a sport in which pregame prayers have long been part of the culture, and in a league that historically represents traditional American values, and in a league that's manned disproportionately by Bible Belters from Florida through Texas, it's obvious that Jesus plays a dominant role in the culture of the pro football locker room,” Byrne wrote.

So should we really be surprised when former NFL coach Ted Cottrell says, “Our heavenly father is awesome” from the podium?

Across the pond, columnists debated the question of faith in cricket. With the same dry sarcasm of Monkovic's NYT piece, Guardian columnist Kevin Mitchell called a prominent cricketer's religious acceptance speech “the stereotype of boring American God-bothering.”

A few days later, a rival columnist at the Telegraph fired back, reposting one of Mitchell's columns from 2006 that described an act of religious reverence on the cricket field as “moving.” His conclusion was simply to leave matters of faith off the field and out of the sports press.

Even in Hollywood (liberal, godless Hollywood), “Thank you, Jesus” finds its way into acceptance speeches. In 2007, Miley Cyrus professed, “I have just got to say, praise God for putting me here,” as she accepted her Teen Choice Award. A little more than a year ago she was making Up with Jesus videos for Youtube. Now angry New Jersey mom/bloggers are asking why the 16-year-old, self-styled Jesus freak performed a “pole dance” at last week's Teen Choice ceremony.

But even as the young, rebellious Miley was praising God for her TCA surfboard, 40-something D-Lister Kathy Griffin remarked that “no one had less to do with [her 2007 Emmy] than Jesus.”

True to form, Griffin kicked up controversy again this year as she walked the Red Carpet before Sunday's Teen Choice Awards (on the arm of Levi Johnston). “Two years ago, I told Jesus to suck it, and this year they asked me to host the same show. Who would'a thunk it!? You know, being offensive does pay off every so often,” she said.

In both cases, celebrities are using Jesus to shape their image and attract their audience. It's as much a part of their brand as designer dogs and boytoy eye candy. We've written about how religious groups try to rebrand themselves, but we haven't seen much on how secular stars use faith to their advantage.

Kerry Byrne, the aforementioned sportswriter who probably doesn't tackle the topic of faith very often, had some interesting insights that others might key on. By delving deeper into the questions about religion's role in sports and mass culture, he helps answer the “So what?” question.

Weekly round up number three—trends to follow: Muslims in the U.S., religion and health care, the church of the future.

Altmuslim raises a key question facing American Muslims: How to balance the push to explain themselves to the public-at-large with the pull to stay put in their own communities?

Part of the problem, writes Abdelrahman Rashdan, is the lack of a central authority. That fact makes it as hard to provide a reliable count of American Muslims as it is to present a unified position on the issues of the day.

Muslims—akin to other immigrant groups—have focused on doing well in their adopted country. Participating in the public square was not a priority. But that changed after 9/11. Altmuslim asks: What do we do now?

That's also the question bedeviling religious progressives since the religious/political right stole the Alinksi playbook. Dan Gilgoff reports the answer debuts today: a television commercial. Faithful America may have the TV spot ready, but it's going to take a lot more than talking heads to counter the local organizing and concomitant news coverage that the right-wing has generated. Watching what's next and monitoring the who's and how's of coverage—will the legacy media overlook the religious left while the right's wildest antics are duly noted?—may be depressing.

I'm late to the party; Scott McClellan's speculations on the church in 2034 ran six weeks ago. But given my interest in technology and religion, I devoured them. Among the highlights: volunteerbots at gigachurches, no-tech nanochurches and holographic sermons. My fave is the notion of on-demand religion: “interactive spiritual development stations” allow worshipers to access on-demand content from their church library, enabling “a worship experience of their own programming, on their own schedule.”

Sound familiar? It should. Media logic dictates new ways of interacting, information-sharing, setting authority and structuring reality. Institutional religion will fare no differently than legacy media. But will it be better prepared?
 
Diane Winston
 

Weekly round up number two—if you want more Winston follow me on twitter—and this week's all about bodies. No surprises here: lots of sex but also stories on higher ed, Methodists and goats.

The goats hail from Fort Worth, where they're central to Jose Merced's practice of Santeria. In 2006, police stopped Merced from sacrificing a goat, and the case has been in litigation ever since. Last week, a federal appeals court ruled that Merced's first amendment rights had been violated—and he would be able to freely practice his faith. (Check out The Wild Hunt for a modern pagan perspective on this). In 1993, the Supreme Court decided in favor of a Santeria priest in Florida whose ritual practice included animal sacrifice—a ruling that Merced's lawyers used as a precedent.

Follow-up: Local sensitivities are more outraged by religious sacrifice than by killing animals for food or sport (both of which can cause the same health risks for which Merced was busted). Will this case end the debate over animal sacrifice and, more importantly, encourage other groups whose religious practices challenge community norms to seek legal protection?

A new study on religion and higher education may surprise bicoastal atheist elitists: the odds of going to college rise when high school students who say religion is important in their lives. The study also affirmed conventional wisdom about majors that buoy belief and those which are faith busters. If you want to stay the course, take business or education; if you're up for temptation, try humanities and social sciences. Follow-up:  “Postmodernism rather than science, is the bete noir—the strongest antagonist—of religiosity.”

Much ink has been spilt over new policies on gays and lesbians that put the Episcopal Church at odds with the worldwide Anglican convention. Despite the Archbishop of Canterbury's mediation attempts, the American church seems determined to push the issue. This past week, dioceses in Minnesota  and California nominated practicing lesbians and gays as candidates for bishop, flouting the current Anglican ban. (Nominees are presented to local diocese at convention and delegates vote for their choice.)

On Sunday, The Los Angeles Times ran a lengthy editorial on the denomination's recent affirmations. Rather than dismiss the decisions as an internal theological debate, the paper placed them in the context of society's evolving commitment to equality and conclusion—and the concomitant global push back. Said the paper:

“The strides made by the Episcopal Church thus are especially significant, and especially commendable, because they occur against a backdrop of both cultural and religious resistance. Supporters of Proposition 8 weren't the only ones to cloak prejudice with piety.”

In the past, newspapers routinely editorialized on religious matters but since few do now, it's jarring to see the Times opine on a sectarian issue. But this is exactly why the General Convention is open to the public and welcomes the press; the church's mission is not just to shepherd the fold but to reach and teach the rest of us. In the days to come, I'm sure we'll hear a lot about how the church is neither reaching nor teaching—and almost as much about the “liberal” media preaching to the choir.

My colleagues at getreligion rightfully note that while all eyes have been on the Episcopalians, most missed the Methodists take a different tack in the body wars. There's four times as many Methodists than Episcopalians in the US, but they don't get even half the press. Why? Could be part of that liberal media conspiracy—or maybe men with collars mean dollars.

Diane Winston

From Easter tweets to Jesus apps, we've posted several updates on religion and social media. But a lot of stories are more glitz than grit. Happily, that's not always the case.

A Dallas rabbi, who is transcribing the Torah, is sharing his adventures online. Rabbi Avraham Bloomenstiel is using a turkey quill to copy the first five books of the Hebrew Bible onto calf skin—while a webcam records his progress. According to the Dallas Morning News, “the project will take about 18 months to finish, is guided by more than 4,000 Jewish laws and requires absolute precision. One mistake—or even a badly misshapen letter—and the offending page may have to be buried in a Jewish cemetery.”

Bloomenstiel and Rabbi Yaakov Rich, a graphic artist and Web designer, decided to open up the ancient practice through an online “workshop.” They hope to find financial support for the transcription while also educating their community. Similarly seeking to educate and enlighten is Jim DeLa, an Episcopal communicator, who created a six minute wrap-up of the denomination's General Convention in Anaheim.

DeLa's sing-song, bedtimey tones help rectify the excesses of mainstream media coverage: Apparently the recent meeting was not a gay love-in. Participants tackled internal equity issues such as providing pensions and health insurance for lay workers as well as longstanding societal problems of poverty and racism. DeLa's wrap-up is short, professional and eminently watchable. It also gives church members an opportunity to tell their own story, reclaiming their convention from the sensationalized media spin.

I just discovered the Sex and Religion Info-graphic that's been up on Buzzfeed. No need to critique it as many before me have commented on its shortcomings. But the idea of making comparative data easily available is a good one and Patheos, a new website on religion and spirituality, does it well. (Disclosure: I am on the Patheos advisory board). Patheos' lenses allow users to compare history, beliefs and rituals of different religions; its portals provide an in-depth look at major world religions, and its public square features different religious perspectives on topical issues. This week, Penn professor Anthea Butler asks “Is Greed Good?” and checks out answers from Jesus, Max Weber and Gordon Gekko.

Diane Winston

My husband says I'm too late on the Sandra Tsing Loh story , but I disagree. There's always room for another exploration of sex, love and marriage, especially from the distaff side.

So for anyone too busy with chauffeuring, feeding, shopping for, scheduling and entertaining children while paying bills, placating creditors and keeping house on a tight budget while writing, researching advising and attending meetings (many meetings) and, last but hardly least, maintaining a scholar-vixen persona—this one's for you. In the July/August edition of The Atlantic, Loh announced the end of her 20-year marriage and sought to cast its failure in a broader context.

Loh's NPR commentaries are smart but cloying—winking at listeners as she pretends, in tightly scripted shtick, to be one of us. But The Atlantic piece belies her humble pretensions. Loh is going for the grand theory of sexuality, trying to synthesize religion, sociology, evolutionary biology and hormones in the hopes of making her family drama into a stand-in for SOCIETAL SHIFTS. But she succumbs to the hopelessness of the task, ending on a sour note (imagine Albert Camus as a couples counselor) that pits love against marriage.

Unlike earlier commentators who castigated Loh's selfishness and assailed her privileged perspective, I appreciate what she is trying to do.  She wants to call up the crazy demands, conflicted roles and really inconvenient truths that plague 21st century unions as a way to justify her own choices.  Loh doesn't pull off the grand synthesis, but she makes a noble effort—especially in comparison with the stories lamely spun by some of her fellow adulterers. Take John Ensign or Mark Sanford, for example. During a recent appearance on Rachel Maddow's show, author Jeff Sharlet noted that Sanford used the King David story to justify why he chose not resign after his extramarital affair became public. (According to Sharlet, Sanford believes that “normal rules” don't apply to those whom God chooses for leadership.) Ensign, like Sanford, learned all he needed to know about God, politics and moral behavior at the Washington DC Street townhouse of The Family, ground zero for conservative Christian politics.

The story waiting to be written is a variation on what Loh attempted and, in her wake, commentators across political and cultural lines have addressed. A more dispassionate journalist might have better luck pulling on the various social, cultural and religious threads that make up the tapestry of contemporary relationships. What do women want? Who exempted politicians from rules that the rest of us follow? Why exclude gays and lesbians from an institution that its current practitioners treat so cavalierly?

The story begs for an ethical/spiritual lens because it takes on the narratives that provide meaning and structure for our lives. Is there really only one kind of relationship that promotes happy, flourishing human beings? Even if there is, how do we justify privileging that particular domestic configuration over others? What makes a good society? And, maybe most important, how do we raise the next generation to be less neurotic than our own?

Diane Winston

We're driving to Vegas, the ultimate cheap vacation. Cheap is the key word: $50 hotel, $4.99 meals and lots of free attractions. There's something discounted, inexpensive or bargain basement priced for everyone in our family of five—and we're telling the older kids to forget the slots.
 
Personally, I'd rather be going to Vermont, Hawaii or even Northern California but with salary freezes, job furloughs and the ever-tightening credit market, that's not possible. I could yell out the window “I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it any more,” and everyone on the block would shout “Back at ya!”

Who's to blame?

My reading of the legacy news media looks like it's all President Obama's fault. The stimulus package was a flop, and the cash strain on government spending is hurting everyone from auto workers to vets. 
 
Of course the economy is news and the media needs to report it. But how do reporters set up, structure and source their stories? What do they put in? What do they leave out? Who is quoted? How is the information arranged? Conventional wisdom tells journalists to focus on conflict, quote the most colorful source and lead with the most gripping (and usually sensational) tidbit.

This works well for sports coverage, but it takes a toll on civic (and civil) discourse. The Republicans' mission to take down Obama colors their comments. Echoing their opinions without context makes a bad situation worse. In other words, it's not Obama's fault that my family is going to Vegas instead of Venice. And it won't help our understanding of the country's challenges to pretend it so.

Diane Winston