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Evangelicalism is having a moment of reckoning. What once seemed like a conservative, Christian way of life became so baldly entangled with President Donald Trump, and so obviously detached from its espoused morality, that many followers are now leaving their churches. Those still on the inside are trying to see a movement they still love for other reasons, more clearly. And those on the outside are trying to grasp why Christians were willing to excuse Trump’s speech and actions against women and immigrants and his easy embrace of racism.
While evangelicals defended the movement by pointing to those in their…
Vicar Derek Kubilus, a United Methodist pastor, has one of those voices — knowing but full of levity. When we attended church camp together as teenagers, I often wondered if he was telling a joke I didn’t quite understand. Today, I hear a matured version of this voice on his podcast, Cross Over Q, which offers healing for QAnon followers and family members from a Christian perspective. …
After a year mangled by shattering uncertainty, political upheaval, and plague, it sure would be nice to have a safe bet, a window into the future, an omniscient someone pointing the way through.
Over the past year, psychics and tarot card readers saw a boom in business— so did a serious uptick in complaints of fraudulent psychics and spiritual advisors to AARP’s helpline. Astrologers’ grew their $2.2 billion industry, kicked off with a spike in Google searches for “coronavirus astrology” last March. There’s the malarkey of QAnon, set down by their prophet, Q. …
It’s not by chance that banners with Jesus’ name flew above this week’s insurrection on Capitol Hill.
On Wednesday, armed domestic terrorists scaled the United States Capitol building against the backdrop of a makeshift scaffold with a dangling noose. Rioters clambered up walls, broke windows, pawed at congressional offices, killed a Capitol Police officer, and planted explosive devices. It was a scene some have likened to the fall of Rome.
Among the Confederate flags and Trump banners, the bare-bellied New Age shaman costumes, and anti-Semitic shirts and hoodies, were signs of Jesus: “Jesus Saves.” “Jesus 2020.” “Make America Godly Again.”…
“Jesus 2020” signs have sprouted up like weeds on the front lawns of Trump supporters across America. They’re also standing tall like battle standards over the crowds at rallies like Prayer March 2020, a recent political extravaganza held in Washington, D.C., where leaders of the Christian Right masqueraded their Trumpvangelicalism as the only true political expression of Christianity.
These increasingly widespread signs began with the efforts of two women from a Baptist church in Alabama. “We’re trying to keep politics out of this,” one said, declining to endorse either major party candidate. “Our focus is on Jesus.”
One problem: There’s…
A lot of millennials get pumped this time of the year. They spend months getting their elaborate costume ready, and come the first of October, they change their display name on Twitter to a holiday-themed play on words — ex. “Suzy Gould” becomes “Spooky Ghoul-d.”
I envy them. I wish Halloween gave me that much joy, but I can’t get into the spirit. Their excitement is largely driven by nostalgia. Halloween offers a chance to relive childhood memories that I don’t really have.
My family was Southern Baptist. We attended church weekly and prayed before meals, but for the most…
Megan Phelps-Roper’s conversion began on Twitter. Phelps-Roper is the granddaughter of Fred Phelps, the founder of Westboro Baptist Church, based in Topeka, Kansas. Westboro is infamous for its anti-queer protests at the sites of military funerals and other tragedies, deploying church members to hold up signs that say, “Thank God for dead soldiers,” “God blew up the troops,” “Thank God for 9/11,” and “God hates America.”
In 2008, when she was 22, Phelps-Roper started a Twitter account for the church, where she quickly gathered followers by replying to celebrities and politicians and asserting the church’s hateful message. But Twitter was…
Zabrina Zablan attended Azusa Pacific University (APU), a prestigious evangelical college in Southern California, for one main reason: to “pray away the gay.” If she studied the Bible enough, she thought, maybe God would deliver her from a sexual orientation that her conservative religious family viewed as sinful.
Instead, she fell in love.
Zablan met Ipo Duvauchelle, a fellow APU student, and the two women began dating. Zablan and Duvauchelle shared similar worldviews, a warm sense of humor, and a deep faith. It seemed God was not interested in breaking up the happy lesbian couple. …
“Silence in the face of evil is itself evil: God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.”
— Unknown, frequently attributed to Dietrich Bonhoeffer
One afternoon in late 2014, a friend told me that he’d been blocked on Twitter by The Gospel Coalition.
The sheer power and influence that The Gospel Coalition (TGC) holds is mind-boggling. The group is an online evangelical juggernaut that was co-founded by Tim Keller, a popular New York City pastor, respected by liberal and conservative Christians alike.