Synagogue 3000 has a smart new survey on emergent Jewish communities.

The authors place this new development—post-denominational spiritual communities—in the cultural context of social networking, NGOs, and niche marketing. Reflecting these organizing and communication trends, emergent communities target an underserved population by providing goods and services that speak to spiritual and social needs.

The Jewish emergent phenomena is part of a larger movement that has galvanized Protestants and Roman Catholics, too. Theological differences notwithstanding, young adults within each of these faith groups seek a deeper, more authentic religious experience than what they found at their parents' suburban congregation or mega-church. Their communities highlight tradition, spiritual practice, and social engagement.

In the Jewish world, 80 functioning congregations have sprung up in the last decade. Many are in the usual places—New York, Los Angeles and Boston, but others are in Seattle, Lynchburg and Boca Raton—as well as Zurich, Sydney and Toronto. Their membership is predominantly young (under 40), single, and Jewishly committed (e.g. strong interest in marrying a co-religionist). Some attend rabbi-led groups; others belong to minyanim that are less formally organized.  None are particularly interested in reviving the building funds, bingo nights and shuls with pools that characterized an earlier generation. As the survey notes, “Whatever they are called and whatever they call themselves, they all seem to agree: they tend to avoid the terms 'synagogue' and 'congregation,' thereby signaling their interest in differentiating themselves from previous generations' regnant forms of local Jewish community building.

There are lots of places this story could go: the sociological implications of a religious trend that spans different faith traditions, the importance of arts and politics to members, changing patterns of religious leadership and the possible death knell for denominations. But other than the venerable Forward,  the media has yet to discover the news.

Not everything that happens is news—that's why editors distinguish trash talk from information the public needs to know.

Apparently the distinction is murky at the Washington Post, which printed a piece on rumors that Barak Obama is a Muslim. While it might be justified to run a story explaining why the rumors have traction, repeating reports of bald-faced lies is no different than swift-boating. Moreover, it's bad journalism.

But it is nice and trashy, and editors—aware that religion is the new sex—probably calculated it had reader appeal. Plus it's a lot easier compiling all those negative quotes than reporting a nuanced piece.

The real religion and politics story du jour is Mike Huckabee's ascension in the polls. I won't say I told you so (Will the Real Baptist Please Stand Up?), but voters see him as an affable guy whose conservative beliefs have been integrated into his life's work and political vocation. That doesn't mean he's above using his Baptist creds to woo voters (see the commercial and some analysis here). This straightforward (or some might say crude) appeal is interesting to parse, and EthicsDaily.com provides a good start.

Huckabee, like Obama, appeals to people who don't agree with all his policies. That's because both men seem genuine and comfortable in their own skin. (Huckabee's sense of humor also helps.) But the new commercial may alienate some newfound friends even as it seeks to shore up the base. There's a good story in there about how politicians and interest groups spin religion (Exhibit A: Mitt Romney's new quota on Mormon Cabinet members). But it wasn't the one in the Washington Post this week.

I can only imagine what the Daily Sun (Conway, NH) reporter thought when he asked Barak Obama which three historical figures he would invite to a dinner party.

But if the reporter hoped for new insight into the candidate's psyche, he must have been bummed. Obama picked three safe bets: Lincoln, Gandhi and Jesus Christ.

Since one of the glaring omissions of the 2000 debates was a follow up question to candidate Bush's naming Jesus as his favorite political philosopher, perhaps this latest Jesus citing deserved further explanation?

Or maybe not?

Chit-chatting at a dinner party, no matter how inspirational it gets, is a casual encounter. Following a political philosophy indicates an intellectual commitment to moral principles. One question is an ice-breaker; the other a significant piece of information.

If and when reporters find that religion is seminal to a candidate's philosophy of governance and leadership, let's hope they remember the seventh question in the journalist's toolbox: Why?

Death knells in the New York Times (“The Evangelical Crackup” and  “For a Trusty Voting Bloc, a Faith Shaken”) notwithstanding, the evangelical “crack-up” has been greatly exaggerated.

With seven weeks until the New Hampshire primary, bloggers and pundits are bloviating about if, when and how the  Republican front runner can mollify his born-again critics.

Pundits note that despite Romney's substantial lead in the polls, a recent Pew survey found 52 percent of evangelicals don't think Mormons are Christians. Therefore, they assume, evangelicals won't vote for one—a leap in logic that overlooks the growing number of true believers who support Mitt and urge their colleagues to do the same.

Nonetheless, what's an election without handicappers? At TNR, Jonathan Chait explicates “the wrong reason to hate Romney” (wrong reason: he's Mormon; correct reason: his faith-based politics) while The Atlantic has Ross Douthat on the right reason to hate Chait (he's an ignorant secularist)  

Michael Scherer explains why some evangelicals think “a vote for Romney is a vote for Satan” and Josh Patashnik talks to Mormons disgruntled with Mitt's tepid depictions of their faith.

There's a tingly frisson underlying all these pieces, as if the writers are spoiling for a fight: make Mitt confess he believes really weird stuff or reassure the public that his religion won't influence his ability to lead. One way or the other, they're saying, fish or cut bait.

So why hasn't Mitt done the speech? Byron York, in a piece that raises more questions than answers, says the candidate isn't ready to clarify what he believes and how those beliefs influence him (or not)

The challenge for reporters, then, is getting Romney to explain how Mormonism does shape his vision of policy and governance. Whether or not Mormons are Christians is a theological question that, while salient to some, is not primary to many Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, agnostic, atheist and pagan voters. But how Mormonism influences Romney's stance on governmental checks and balances, gender equity, and national security matters to the entire country.

Two women in two very different but similarly devout societies hope to lead their countries. But divergences in how the news media report on gender, religion and the intersection of the two in their campaigns is noteworthy.

Benazir Bhutto wants to form a national unity government in Pakistan. Hillary Clinton seeks the Democratic nomination for US president and then the office itself. Both women have been in politics long enough to know how the game is played.

The first woman leader of an Islamic state, Bhutto was twice elected Pakistan's Prime Minister and twice resigned under allegations of corruption. In exile since 1998, she returned home last month to participate in national elections. After initially being willing to work with President Pervez Musharraf, she broke off talks after he declared emergency rule.

Bhutto says very little about religion, and press accounts rarely refer to her faith, her feelings about faith or the opinions people of faith have about her. Likewise, the press rarely focuses on her gender (with the exception of her last stint as Prime Minister when, according to speculation, her husband was behind any malfeasance.) Rather, coverage centers on her political machinations and the corruption charges that continue to dog her.

Hillary Clinton, current US Senator from New York and married to former President Bill Clinton, has made religion and gender central to her campaign. For months, reporters have queried her Methodist roots and how they contributed to her social commitment. Likewise, they have repeatedly commented on her pantsuits, her haircuts and her decision to skew hawkish to allay any concern about her soft, feminine side.

Now, the pundits—with the Clintons' blessing—are playing the “gender card,” claiming that Hillary's opponents are ganging up on a girl.

Ms. Bhutto—recently released from house arrest—has not yet played the same hand.

Carla Power nails a major difference between Western and Islamic societies in the current issue of Time magazine. “What's decent to do in public,” she asks, “display your sexuality or your faith?” Muslims have no problem praying in public whereas Westerners have tended to keep religion behind closed doors. On the other hand, we're comfortable baring body and soul to strangers but Islam defends personal privacy and propriety.

Power says the important lesson is that “Western societies are cultures of personal revelation and exposure, while Muslim cultures are traditionally structured around protecting honor and propriety.” It's hard to disagree as far as it goes, but Power misses the larger point. The battle over public and private is largely fought over women's bodies, but the Western media's complicity in exploiting the female form makes the story difficult to report.

In the not-too-distant past, many Christians opted for plain dress and no ornamentation—believing that worldly fashion was temptation, a path away from God. Many Jews, too, believed that simplicity was its own reward.

Times change—in Western societies women's bodies now sell everything from soap to cars—not to mention newspapers and magazines.  And religious women are now a market niche for high-end advertisers. Need a Hanukkah recipe or the back story on bagels, Jewish Living is looking for you.  

So it's not altogether surprising that our news media fails to see why Western attitudes to the female body offend Muslims and objectify women. After all, the media—like the rest of the society, is market-driven. But what about in-depth reporting stories at the intersection of religion and gender?

I have the feeling that something's missing in this recounting of a rabbi's decision to defy the Catholic hierarchy. Rabbi Susan Talve is allowing her synagogue to host an illegal ordination of women priests. Is gender thicker than theology? Does Talve remember when her denomination ordained only men? What do Catholic laywomen think about a synagogue standing in for their own sanctuary?

When the Western news media covers women and religion, it's usually too little gets too much and too much gets too little.

Late last month, Richard Prince's retrospective “Spiritual America” opened at the Guggenheim  in New York City. I wondered earlier why so few critics addressed the religious aspects at the center of Prince's work: the commodification of desire, the sanctification of the ephemeral and the fear of mortality. But even if critics missed an opportunity to tease out a layer of meaning, the show easily could be widely seen (online and in print if not in person) and Prince's art is well-known.

Not all artists, especially those interested in spiritual America, are as fortunate. One of my favorites, Michelle Shocked, released a new CD last month that has received next to no attention. ToHeavenURide,  Michelle Shocked 's new compilation, was recorded live at the 2003 Telluride Blues Festival. A mix of covers and original songs, gospel crossed with the blues, reggae and soul, the songs reflect Shocked's ongoing commitment to her Christian faith.

Shocked spoke with me about that faith awhile back. I wanted to know how a good old Texas gal ended up singing in the choir of the West Angeles Church of God in Christ,one of Los Angeles' biggest and best known black congregations. West Angeles has been home to Angela Bassett, Denzel Washington and Magic Johnson; it's a Pentecostal church with a conservative slant—not the place one would expect to find the free-spirited folkie-blues-rock singer and political radical. Shocked said she initially went to the church for the music, but when she found something else there, it became her spiritual home.

When we talked, Shocked was keeping her secular music career separate from her religious vocation. But when she discovered the Telluride tapes, made by a documentary crew, she decided she had something to share. “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” she writes in a womanifesto, released with the CD. “Or at least that's been my experience.”   

If that's your experience, too, you my want to see Shocked on tour. She'll be traveling around the U.S. for the next few months. Let me know if you write about it.