Friday, November 28, 2008

U.S. religious affiliation in a state of flux, study shows


February 26, 2008 Tuesday

By Rebecca Rosen Lum
Bay Area News Group

The tectonic shifting of American culture has made for a dynamic religious landscape that promises to continue churning, a landmark survey shows.

Immigration, family choices and a search for religious relevance are spurring dramatic changes, according to a report by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life.

The U.S. Religious Landscape Survey researchers interviewed more than 35,000 people, asking 45 questions.

The survey found Americans freely changing their religious identities.

Forty-four percent of American adults have left the religions or denominations in which they were raised. Some have found new faiths, some remain religious but have no affiliation, and some have abandoned religious belief as well as practice.

People who believe without belonging have become one of the largest groups in the religious landscape. More than 16percent of Americans saythey are religious but don't identify with any particular faith group.

Some groups struggle to maintain their numbers, the researchers found.

Jehovah's Witnesses loses more believers than any other faith, with some two-thirds of adult members severing ties. Zealous recruiting efforts keep the faith's numbers from dwindling, researchers said.

The steepest drop is among mainline Protestant denominations. Researchers link the losses to falling birth rates coupled with an inability to retain members as they reach adulthood.

As late as the 1980s, Protestants -- including mainline denominations, evangelicals and historically black churches -- accounted for two-thirds of believers, most surveys showed. The Pew report puts the percentage at 51.

Catholics also experience a continuous churn.

That its population has held steady belies the fact that so many -- one in three -- leave. A bit more than half who go join evangelical faiths; one in 10 evangelicals is a former Catholic. The other half have no affiliation.

Latinos now make up a third of the Catholic church, researchers found. Nearly three-quarters of immigrants from Mexico, and a majority of immigrants from other Latin American countries, are Catholic.

Immigrants and minorities are beginning to influence evangelicalism, the researchers said.

"It looks like evangelical Protestantism is growing, but it is also becoming more diverse," Pew senior fellow John Green said. "That could lead to more clout politically, but they may not be as united as they were in the past."

Mainline Protestants will retain their political muscle because of their mission, said William McKinney, president and professor of American religion at Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley.

"Look at the fact that all three presidential candidates left standing are mainline Protestants," he said.

They are trained to participate fully in society and they vote out of proportion to their size, he said.

"One thing this study shows for me is that people are starting to see religion in a marketplace framework," said Jim Donahue, president of Berkeley's Graduate Theological Union.

"Once you see it as a marketplace, market principles apply. People are shopping around. It underscores America as a voluntaristic society."

The shift among faiths is the most brisk among those younger than 30, who are more likely to change affiliation across faith traditions compared to older believers.

Evangelicals now make up more than 26 percent of the nation's religious community. The faith includes Pentecostals, Southern Baptists and many of the mega-churches.

Many convert to evangelical beliefs because they desire a closer experience with God or a particular pastor, the researchers said.

Generally, people leave childhood faiths that no longer meet their needs, they said.

Need alone does not tell the whole story, however. Green said the transient nature of Americans accounts for much of the change.

"A person may be very involved with a church in one community, then move to another place and just never get connected up," he said.

Women have a slim majority in most religious congregations, although men hold the edge in Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist and Hindu faiths.

More men than women claim to be religious but unaffiliated.

The survey spotlights singularity as well as diversity. More than 70 percent of Mormons marry other Mormons, and nearly 80 percent of Hindus marry other Hindus.

More than a third of religious Americans marry someone of another faith or denomination.

"Americans are not only more accepting of religious diversity, they are more accepting of it within their own homes," Pew director Luis Lugo said.

"What we're looking at is a need to develop as an interreligious world," the Theological Union's Donahue said. "People want leaders who can speak to their beliefs, yes, but also to the beliefs of others."

EBay draws fire over sales of holy relics


January 31, 2008 Thursday



Rebecca Rosen Lum

On Jan. 3, a would-be eBay seller posted a wheat-colored envelope fastened with a red wax seal said to contain remains of the Apostle Bartholomew.

Another posting offered a beveled glass reliquary containing pieces of five saints' earthly remains.

The sale of what the Catholic Church terms first-class relics - bits of bone, hair and flesh - outrages Tom Serafin, a Catholic activist and the president of the International Crusade for Holy Relics, a Los Angeles-based organization that maintains a traveling exhibit of venerated articles.

It's not the prices that get Serafin hopping mad. It's the fact that pitches appear on the site for the remains of saints and objects of worship such as Eucharist wafers used in holy communion.

Church law forbids the buying and selling of the items.

"Just as you would not go around selling portions of one of your beloved deceased for money, for the church, these (saints) are our family members," said the Rev. Mark Weisner, of the Oakland Diocese.

On Tuesday, Weisner, stunned to learn of the online sales, ran an eBay search for "holy relics." Up popped a posting for an authenticated piece of the papal collar of Pope Leo XIII (a second- class relic).

"If someone were to ask for my blessing, I wouldn't say, 'OK, that will be $10,'" said the Rev. Michael Sweeney, president of the Dominican School for Philosophy and Theology. "It's not to be treated as having profane value."

EBay itself prohibits the sale of human remains. Hate literature, body parts, babies, relics of executions and much more appear on eBay's long list of barred items.

But Serafin and a handful of others, including a Russian archbishop and a retired FBI agent, have monitored the site and wrangled with the company for 10 years.

Their conclusion: EBay does nothing to enforce its own rules.

"EBay is like a big monster," he said. "You can't even beat a conscience into them."

A company spokeswoman rejected the allegations. The San Jose- based trading site continuously hunts down postings that violate its policies, said Kim Rubey.

But with users trading in more than 50,000 categories, some offenders slip through, she said.

"At any given time there are 102 million items on the Web site worldwide, and 6 million are added every day," Rubey said. "We do have a team of people working around the clock to remove listings that violate any policies."

The company encourages visitors to report offenders, she said.

Report them they do.Prompted by Serafin's boycottebay.net, Catholics barraged the company with angry e-mails when sellers posted Eucharist wafers. The company pulled the postings and vowed not to allow future sales of the Eucharist "and similar highly sacred items."

Catholics believe that when they partake of the Eucharist wafer, it becomes the body, blood and soul of Christ, and the sacrament unites heaven and Earth. Its sale is a profound abomination, Sweeney said.

To transfer a relic from one entity to another requires the approvalOK of the Holy See, Weisner said.

Along with the traffic in genuine relics comes the inevitable bogus trade, Serafin said. A counterfeit skull of St. Thomas More and hand of St. Stephen have each made their way onto the site.Other challenges

Serafin's is not the first organization to do battle with eBay over its trade in items that offend faith groups. The Anti- Defamation League challenged the online auctioneer in 2000 over its sale of Nazi memorabilia, including Hitler's monogrammed bedsheet and telephone book.

A year later, the company expanded its rules to ban anti-Semitic articles. But last week's offerings included a Nazi armband.

"Catholics, all Christians, and those of African, Jewish or Asian ancestry should be outraged by the lax attitude that one of our nation's biggest e-commerce sites shows to offensive items on their site," Serafin said.

Yet even critics acknowledge the difficultyenormity of the job of policing the site.

"How do you know the values of every faith?" Weisner asked. "It would be a huge undertaking. It would be an interesting challenge."


Play takes on agony of gay Mormons

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March 30, 2007 Friday


By Rebecca Rosen Lum

At the beginning of her new play, "Facing East," Walnut Creek writer Carol Lynn Pearson places her main characters, a middle-aged Mormon couple, in a cemetery. Their gay son has killed himself.

"This is the grave of my son, Andrew Isaac McCormick," says his father, Alex. "None of us ... knew him."

The play - opening off-Broadway in New York City this summer - takes on the divide between Mormon family loyalty and the faith's belief that homosexuality offends God.

Pearson in 1986 ignited a slow-burning conversation on how the Mormon community treats its gay members with her seminal book, "Good-bye, I Love You," about her 12-year marriage to a gay Mormon man.

The emotional calls and letters she received, many having to do with the suicide of gay relatives, provided the material for "Facing East" and a second book, "No More Goodbyes: Circling the Wagons around Our Gay Loved Ones."

Her message: Mormons are a loving people, but church stigma has brought misery to gays and lesbians and left families bereft.

"To me it is clear that many suicides among young Mormon homosexuals, as well as gay people in other religions, can be traced directly to a hostile social and religious environment," she writes.

In drawing her conclusion she cites two facts: Utah leads the nation in self-inflicted deaths of young men ages 15 to 24, and federal statistics that show that gays and lesbians commit as much as 30 percent of youth suicides.

"I am not here to dictate policy to my church or any church," she said, relaxing on the couch in her living room, which is rich with paintings, sculpture, books, instruments, and play-writing trophies from Brigham Young High School in Provo, Utah.

"I'm here to tell the stories so we can hear the pain. I'm here to issue an invitation for us all to do better."

She began with her own story. In "Goodbye, I Love You," she writes of the luminously attractive Gerald, who shared her passions for art, theater and music. He urged her to publish her first book of poetry (The self-published "Beginnings" sold out quickly and went into additional printings). The couple married in the Mormon temple and had four children.

Before the birth of her youngest, she learned her husband had lost his quiet battle to defeat his gay desires. The couple set out for California and its comfortable anonymity, their shaky marriage in tow.

Ultimately, they divorced, but her initial devastation, sorrow and bewilderment gave way to a friendship that lasted through his exploration of gay life in San Francisco to his 1984 death from AIDS. She nursed him through his final days in her home.

Phone calls from her readers often begin with sobs, she said.

She has counseled young gay Mormons wracked with suicidal thoughts. She has helped patch frayed families.

The church's message has softened since Pearson wrote "Goodbye."

"There's been a movement away from 'It's an evil choice,'" she said.

But church support for California's Proposition 22, and other laws banning same-sex marriage, stung.

"The 'Protection of Marriage' concept did not protect my marriage ... or that of a significant number of other women and men," she writes in "No More Goodbyes."

"On the contrary, it created the ground on which a marriage was built that could have been predicted to fail."

The church does not comment on individual works, said Michael Otterson, the Salt Lake City-based spokesman for the Latter-day Saints. Mormon elders are "trying to be sensitive," he said, while cautioning gays and lesbians against acting on their feelings.

"We expect celibacy of any person that is not married," said Elder Dallin Oaks, member of the Quorum of 12 Apostles, in an online interview.

Pearson said church elders treat her with warmth and respect. She treasures a note Gordon Hinckly sent her before he became president and prophet: "I appreciate the good you have done and are doing," it says.

Her play seems to have deeply touched Utah's Mormons.

The theater critic for the Deseret Morning News pronounced "Facing East" the best play of the year, in a tie with the Utah Shakespeare Festival's "Hamlet."

The play packed in audiences when it opened in Salt Lake City -- "young kids in punk clothing, elderly people in a wheelchair, middle-aged couples in their church clothes," Pearson said.

It will have its off-Broadway premiere at the Atlantic Theatre in New York in May, and it will be staged in San Francisco in August.

One could get the impression from reading "No More Goodbyes" that despite their see-sawing feelings, Mormons stick by their gay children.

There is the mother who, after initial tears of stormy confusion, sews her daughter's lover a wedding dress and makes her daughter a blouse of the same fabric for the ceremony.

In truth, many have banished their children from the family home, or bluntly announced they would be better off dead, Pearson said.

"I wanted to pave a road with good stories," she said. "We need a map."

"It is our highest hope" that the stories will spur a rapprochement, said Olin Thomas, executive director of Affirmation, a national support organization for gay Mormons.

"Her work is one more drumbeat in making the church aware that people will look at how it treats its members. They have to put on a kinder face."

Rebecca Rosen Lum covers religion. Reach her at 925-977-8506 or rrosenlum@cctimes.com.

Online links

For more on Carol Lynn Pearson and "No More Goodbyes":

www.nomoregoodbyes.com

For more on the church's position:

www.lds.org, click on News and Events, Newsroom, Public Issues, then Same-Gender Attraction

To find support:

www.affirmation.org

ldsfamilyfellowship.org

Controversy with your coffee?

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May 14, 2007 Monday


By Rebecca Rosen Lum

Regular or nonfat? Single or double shot? Pro- or anti-creationism?

Starbucks has been drawing heated responses since the coffee giant began printing quotations on its cups.

Atheists fumed when they got a shot of the Rev. Rick Warren ("The Purpose-Driven Life") with their latte, and Christians balked at gay writer Armistead Maupin's comment that "life is too damn short" to spend in the closet.

So outraged is one organization by the anti-evolution messages that it dispatched its members to protest the practice via e-mail and phone calls.

"I mean, my God," said Annie Laurie Gaylor, co-president of the Freedom From Religion Foundation. "It's rather unforgivable. They're going to give their customers heartburn."

The cups include quotes by artists, writers, scientists and other noteworthy people on a variety of subjects.

The Seattle-based Starbucks began its "The Way I See It" program to stimulate dialogue over coffee. Company officials say they have achieved their goal.

"Based upon the input we have received on the program, people engage in discussion on some of these topics," said Starbucks spokeswoman Erika Mapes in an e-mail message.

Still, servers say they hear many complaints.

"Especially when it gets close to the holidays," said Kristi Baldwin, shift supervisor at a Walnut Creek Starbucks. "They can be controversial."

Maupin's quote sent some sippers back to the counter to demand a different cup. Baldwin said barristas dump the offending cup and offer a new drink with a smile.

And not everyone takes umbrage.

"It's nice to educate about the culture," said Ghenwa Serhan, a Walnut Creek customer.

"My first reaction was, 'eeuw,' is Starbucks trying to cram creationism down my throat along with my Americano?" said Berkeley journalist Susan Kuchinskas.

Kuchinskas reacted to two quotes on vente-sized cups. One from biologist and author Jonathan Wells links Darwin's theory of evolution with eugenics, abortion and racism. The other from author David Quammen says evolution has been "abundantly reconfirmed, explaining physical phenomena by physical causes."

On a closer reading, Kuchinskas recognized "an attempt to provoke thought and discussion -- which it obviously has."

Gaylor isn't buying.

"What are they going to do next, run quotes challenging the theory of gravity, then run a separate one by Galileo saying, 'Oh, no, it's true'? No wonder this country is going downhill scientifically."

Starbucks is not the first company to float religion on its merchandise: Forever 21 and XXI clothing chains stamp the Bible quote "For God so loved the world ..." on shopping bags. In-N-Out Burger has been serving up Scripture with its drinks and fries for 20 years. The biblical passages are on the bottom of its containers.

"I love it," said Maggie Edmunds, a customer of In-N-Out Burger in Pinole. "It makes (the company) seem more personal -- not cold and impersonal, like a corporation. I would like to see more of this."

Ron Zee, a Christian, found word of the cup-bottom Scripture at In-N-Out intriguing. When he lifted up a cup and found one, "I said to myself, 'Cool.'"

The practice allows a business to unobtrusively introduce itself and the beliefs of its owners, Zee said. Nonetheless, silence is golden; he wouldn't want an employee to strike up a conversation on the subject.

"I go to a restaurant to eat, not to be proselytized, even if I agree with the agenda," he said.

A Spokesman for In-N-Out Burger declined comment. Forever 21 and XXI could not be reached for comment.

The label for All Natural Bragg Liquid Aminos bears a tiny fish-symbol and scriptural reference to John 3:2. It reads, "Beloved, I wish above all things that thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth."

Who could argue with that?

"I don't want to have to walk down the grocery store aisles carrying my indexless Bible trying to make sure the food I'm buying is making the right religious statement," said Chloe Etienne, an East Bay shopper. "It's hard enough to read all the labels for nutritional content."

"Sorry," she said. "I believe in a separation between church and food."

Christopher Hitchens: Without a prayer

Edmonton Journal (Alberta)

June 29, 2007 Friday
Final Edition


Rebecca Rosen Lum, Contra Costa Times

Last month at a debate in Berkeley, Christopher Hitchens ranted for the better part of two hours with Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Chris Hedges over the value of faith.

Shouting Hedges down and hurling profanities at audience members who chided him for his support for the Iraq war, the celebrated author reached his crescendo ahead of schedule and stalked off the stage -- although the sight of him puffing away backstage made one wonder whether that was one of his trademark dramaticisms or whether he couldn't hold out another minute for a smoke.

Hitchens, 58, has unleashed his mighty ego on a book tour plugging his latest opus, God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything.

As the fog settled over San Francisco the next morning, another Hitchens emerged, a bit bleary of eye and considerably more accommodating. He poured coffee for his guests and listened thoughtfully to questions. He acquiesced to a photographer's directions in the grand archway of San Francisco's Four Seasons Hotel, where north light illuminated his pale blue eyes.

"This always makes me feel terribly silly," he said, posing for his close-up.

He wore the same silver suit he wore the night before, now more rumpled. Spots decked his purple shirt, and swollen red rings rimmed his eyes. Several applications of eye drops later, he gave up and put on a pair of sunglasses.

A bottle of Jim Beam shared space with a bottle of Evian on his hotel room table.

English-born and Oxford-educated, Hitchens is legendary for his ability to function on vast quantities of liquor.

Indeed, he hadn't forgotten much from the previous evening's debate. And he was still angry at Hedges, whom he called contemptible for describing Palestinian suicide bombers as driven by despair.

"(Expletive) putz," he murmured.

He quietly confirmed that he has known religious people who exemplified their faith, like the Greek bishop in Albania whom he describes as "saintly."

"I've asked myself, without religion would we be nicer?" he muses.

Pause 2-3-4.

Nah.

God, he says, is "man-made -- cruel and contradictory. And so are we. It's exactly what you would expect."

The book is jumping off the shelves faster than Humpty Dumpty off the wall, but draws mixed reviews. Hitchens' hometown paper in the United Kingdom says that "in toppling one god, he replaces him with another -- himself."

That sounded about right to Hedges. A call to the longtime foreign correspondent at his home in New Jersey found him still stinging.

Was that a debate?

"Ugh -- no," he said. "I kept it together, but I was very angry. He was insulting and rude -- and racist. The things he said about Muslims were really disturbing."

But Hitchens says he speaks as a man who has been on the wrong end of a fatwa -- once for simply allowing author Salman Rushdie to bed down at Hitchens' apartment.

"I don't make anything of it because everyone in this country gets delivered a fatwa," he says.

And he is no bully.

Rather, he is a protector of innocence: "When we consider whether religion has "done more harm that good," he writes, "we are faced with an imponderably large question. How can we ever know how many children had their psychological and physical lives irreparably maimed by the compulsory inculcation of faith?"

Religion, with its barbed-wire playsuit of threats and admonishments, keeps children in a perpetual state of terror, Hitchens claims. They're told their loved ones will suffer the flames of hell if they have not been baptized, or baptized in the wrong faith. They're warned away from the imaginary perils of masturbation, and driven to self-loathing that comes along with tagging a healthy and necessary biological process -- menses -- "a curse."

Hitchens brooks no allowances for progressive denominations. That includes black churches, from which many would argue the civil rights movement sprang.

White people make the condescending assumption that "black people would prefer to be led by ministers than anyone else," leading media to seek out charlatans rather than intellectuals to speak for blacks.

"You can say Farrakhan's gang gets people off drugs. How feeble must people be? I think they would be better off on drugs."

He calls the Bible "an extremely crudely fashioned fabrication -- a heap of shards and scraps.

"Like the Qur'an, it's piffle," he says.

It upsets him not a bit that the fans who celebrated his The Trial of Henry Kissinger have parted ways with him over his support for the Iraq war.

In Kissinger, he used newly released documents to track the former national security adviser's political activities in nations with strategically useful but brutal and anti-democratic regimes.

The book has prompted Argentina, Brazil, Chile, France and Spain to seek Kissinger out for questioning, severely limiting his ability to travel freely.

But he did not write that book to court the left, and he has not slammed Islam to court the right -- although it has brought him several new friends, including neocon writer and former leftist David Horowitz. Nonetheless, the book tour "seems like it's been going on forever now," and as God climbs ever higher on the bestseller lists, the tour has grown.

"I now have more sympathy for how the politicians turn into zombies," he said, pouring Evian into a goblet. "It's almost possible to tire of the sound of one's own voice."

Bias against Muslims on the rise, group says

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July 2, 2007 Monday


By Rebecca Rosen Lum

Civil rights violations targeting Bay Area Muslims spiked last year, ranging from schoolyard taunts to deadly assaults to routine citizenship applications strangled by government red tape.

Reports more than doubled in 2005-06, according to the Council on American-Islamic Relations.

The nonprofit organization documented 246 incidents in 2006, up from 113 in 2005.

The Bay Area numbers reflect national numbers, which show episodes of anti-Muslim bias jumping by

25 percent. California accounted for nearly one-third of all the complaints.

The report chronicles verbal and physical harassment, and circumstances in which Muslims were singled out for questioning, subjected to lengthy delays in immigration or naturalization, or otherwise discriminated against. The crime scenes ranged from airports and government agencies to schools, work places, and mosques.

And cyberspace.

An e-mail from an angry Danville man to an East Bay blogger triggered one of the complaints.

"Hey, (expletive) bag, get the (expletive) out of my country," it read. "If I run across you in my daily tasks, I will get you."

Twenty-four hours and plenty of dialogue later, the Danville man apologized.

"Hate mail is actually quite common," council spokeswoman Abiya Ahmed said.

Alia Ansari of Fremont never got an apology. In October 2006 the Afghan mother of six was gunned down as she walked with her 3-year-old daughter. A suspect was arrested, but no motive has been determined. Family members and Muslim leaders suspect her head scarf marked her for a hate crime.

The rise in reported cases is partly due to the organization's Citizen Delay project, which documents instances in which immigrants are forced to wait beyond the legal limit of 120 days for their citizenship applications to be processed, Ahmed said. Many have been waiting for years, she said.

Legal or immigration problems accounted for 35 percent of complaints, followed by due process issues and hate mail.

Ahmed herself figured in one of the hate mail complaints. After reading an Oct. 14 commentary in the Contra Costa Times in which Ahmed said all thoughtful Muslims decry violence, an Oakland letter writer sent her a vitriolic missive saying her words were "like poison."

"May you wander in the desert for a thousand years," the letter said. "Believe me no one will miss you, or look for you or pine for your return."

The agency received 276 reports, and found 246 warranted further investigation, Ahmed said. In some cases, council staffers mediated problems. In others, they referred victims to the U.S. Attorney's Office.

Complaints of workplace discrimination based on both religion and national origin had been steadily declining since they spiked in 2002, but increased last year, according to the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission.

"There is a slight increase at certain times," said Azima Subedar, civil rights coordinator for the Council on American-Islamic Relations. "We got more calls when the London bombings happened."

The findings struck a chord with attorneys at the Asian Law Caucus, who take cases of employment discrimination, citizenship delays and racial and ethnic profiling.

Attorney Malcolm Yeung said, "On an initial glance, you would think, why would one of the most diverse and theoretically progressive areas of the country see so much discrimination? The diversity of the Bay Area doesn't mean you don't have to be vigilant."

Sikhs say airport screening policy violates religious faith


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August 30, 2007 Thursday



By Rebecca Rosen Lum

A new Homeland Security Department policy singles out Sikh men for rigorous airport security searches at the discretion of screeners, a national civil rights organization says.

The United Sikh Coalition has written to Homeland Security chief Michael Chertoff to protest the policy, implemented Aug. 4, which it says amounts to racial profiling. Nearly 2,000 have signed petitions.

Previously, travelers wearing turbans were searched only if they failed to clear metal detectors or other preliminary checks. The new rules, implemented Aug. 4, allow pat-downs of religious headgear at the screener's discretion.

For the world's 25 million Sikhs, the turban is an article of faith, only to be removed in the home or in private.

"In the last three weeks, we've heard dozens of complaints, people being asked to remove their turbans in public and denied the use of a mirror or space to re-tie them," said Kavneet Singh, East Bay resident and director of the Sikh American Legal Defense and Education Fund. "For a Sikh man, that's like being strip-searched."

J.P. Singh, president of the Sikh Center of the San Francisco Bay Area in El Sobrante, teaches Department of Justice and local law enforcement agencies about Sikh practices.

"It's like asking a woman to take off her blouse in public," he said. "It's that bad."

At San Francisco International Airport on Aug. 12, screeners ordered aside three Sikh men. One of them was Kuldip Singh, managing director of United Sikhs.

"The metal detector did not go off," he said. "I asked the guy why they were asking me to step aside. He said they have a new no-hat policy, and we have to pat down your turban.

"What was very strange to us is they are saying it's totally up to the screener. It's the perception of the screener. And that person could be biased."

At Kuldip Singh's request, the screener agreed to move to an enclosed area.

Screeners also may search people wearing cowboy hats or straw hats. Skullcaps, worn by many observant Jews, are not on the list of suspicious head coverings, "so it means a specific community is targeted," Kuldip Singh said.

Airport screeners work for the Transportation Security Administration and are not employees of the airport.

Security officials say screeners can no longer rely solely on metal detectors and wands to filter out weapons, such as plastic explosives.

"We have to change as the threat has changed," said Transportation Security Administration spokesman Nico Melendez. "We have to keep a step ahead of the bad guys."

If screeners do not consider a skullcap reason to search a person, it is because there is no weapon that could possibly fit inside one, Melendez said.

But the government never conducted tests to see whether an explosive device could fit in a wrapped turban, said legal defense fund spokesman Raj Singh Datta.

"In training, we tie an actual turban on a guy," he said. "It's 18 to 24 feet long, one yard wide. When you see how much cloth there is in there and how tightly it's tied ... you can't really hide anything in it."

Fund members met with federal security officials Friday to talk about the changes.

"We are always ready to help the Department of Homeland Security as a community," said Kuldip Singh. "No Sikh has ever been involved in such cases, and they know that."

Mosque celebrates away from home

Contra Costa Times (California)

September 14, 2007 Friday

By Rebecca Rosen Lum


ANTIOCH, Calif. -- Amid a row of women bowing in diaphanous, brightly colored gowns, Sughran Ahmed prayed -- prostrate in silence, rising with the imam's sung "Allah Akbar," God is great. Suddenly, her 3-year-old son, Muhammad Ali, broke free from his caretaker, ran to his mother and threw his arms around her neck. She smiled at him tenderly.

It is an affectionate congregation, said Chairman Abdul Rahman of the Islamic Center of the East Bay, which was recently displaced by an Aug. 12 arson fire.

"I wish these positive feelings would rub off on the community," he said with a sigh.

The figs, fruits and communion that break the fast at the end of the day tasted especially sweet this year.

About 100 worshipers gathered at sundown Thursday for the first iftar, or fast-breaking meal, of this Ramadan. The seller of an Antioch restaurant, empty in escrow, offered it as a temporary prayer hall Sunday, tripping off a mad dash to get insurance and permits in time for the celebration.

Walnut Creek restaurateur Misbah Khelid donated the food.

"Why not?" he said. "It's a time of need."

The 30 days of reflection and fasting take place in the ninth month of the Muslim calendar, beginning at sunset after the first sighting of the new moon -- or, in these times of technological advancement, when calculations pinpoint the appearance of the new moon.

For much of mosque President Mohammed Chaudry's childhood, Ramadan fell during the summer months. But by the time he had become an adult, the fasting days had grown shorter. Now they are long again.

Because Islam follows the lunar calendar, each year Ramadan falls 10 days earlier. Every third year, it moves back a month.

"It's a justice system by God," he said. If not for the lunar calendar, "people in the West would be condemned to a fast for 11 hours."

The Quran directs the faithful to abstain from food, drink and other worldly pleasures, starting as early in the morning as one "can plainly distinguish a white thread from a black thread by the daylight" until darkness falls. The fast ends with a three-day festival called Id-al-Fitr.

For 1 billion faithful worldwide, Ramadan provides a time for considering one's character, strengthening bonds between loved ones and developing empathy for the hungry

A virtuous Ramadan record can be undone by lying, slandering, denouncing people behind their back, uttering a false oath, or indulging in greed or covetousness.

But the most drastic offense is giving in to anger, Chaudry said.

"The whole exercise is null and void if you give yourself to anger -- even if somebody provokes you," he said.

Those who would use Islam as a basis for terrorism or acts of aggression "are earning their way straight to hell," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

Chaudry was visiting the Vatican with his wife when a call came from his son telling him their Antioch mosque had been gutted by fire.

"I fell into a deep depression," he said. "For 10 years, I had devoted my life to creating a place where people could come and pray."

The mosque has resolved not to fold in fear.

But fewer people have been showing up each week for services at a Pittsburg mosque that has taken in the displaced congregation, Rahmen said.

Leaders will not know until the insurance claim is settled whether they should rebuild in place or find a new site.

"I would rather be back at the mosque," said Fauzia Rahman. Her sisters and cousins agreed.

"They wrote on the walls," said Verda Siddiqui, 10, looking bewildered.

Women chatting over their meal agreed that outsiders must have set the fire that destroyed their mosque.

"We lived there for three years," said Neelo Shaikh. "It's a really nice neighborhood."

Chaudry received a call from Antioch police at 7 a.m. the first day of fasting saying a vandal had kicked in the remaining functioning door on the mosque. Three weeks ago, he found graffiti scrawled on the back of the building.

But "support has been overwhelming," he said. The Contra Costa Interfaith Council plans a solidarity march Sept. 23.

"They have been very sympathetic, very generous and very kind," he said. "A big majority is sharing our grief."


Ramadan

Thirty days -- beginning at sunrise and ending at sundown -- of reflection and fasting arrive in the ninth month of the Muslim calendar. In addition to five customary daily prayers, the Islamic faithful add the lengthy Tarawih, or night prayer, until, by the end of Ramadan, they have recited the entire Quran. On the 27th evening, they celebrate Laylat-al-Qadr in honor of the night the angel Gabriel revealed the Quran to the Prophet Muhammad.

Unitarians launch ad campaign

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September 19, 2007 Wednesday


By Rebecca Rosen Lum

Garrison Keillor has long joked that Unitarian missionaries founded Lake Wobegon after a failed attempt to convert American Indians through interpretive dance.

Now, Unitarians are seeking converts and hoping radio spots on Keillor's iconoclastic Prairie Home Companion will draw the same earthy, progressive, crowd the show does.

Seventeen Bay Area Unitarian Universalist congregations have launched a $300,000 marketing campaign financed by 600 member donors. Its theme: "Imagine A Religion."

TV, radio and print spots designed by gUUrilla marketing began airing this week on Comedy Central, The Daily Show and A Prairie Home Companion

About 500 signs are going up in BART stations. Mainstream publications and specialty magazines serving Spanish-speaking or gay and lesbian readers will carry ads.

The campaign also features sequential billboards, based on the old Burma-Shave ads, meant for passing motorists to read.

"Imagine a religion that embraces many different beliefs ... including yours," reads a magazine ad that pictures a middle-aged gay male couple, a young African-American man, a mother holding a young child and a mixed-race family.

"For us, this campaign reflects a change of heart," said the Rev. William Sinkford, president of the national association. "We've been willing to be the best kept secret in religion. This represents a coming out effort."

The denomination has its roots in the Christian Protestantism of Transylvania and Poland but is not Christian per se. Rather, it draws from numerous religions and belief systems in a common "search for truth and meaning." It respects the sacred texts of all religions, but believes that none hold an absolute truth.

Unitarians "pitch a big theological tent," Sinkford said. "We want to make Unitarian Universalism available for those who yearn for a liberal religious home."

The ad blitz, which dovetails with the national Unitarian Universalist Association's growth drive, is the most recent attempt by religious progressives to make themselves heard in the public discourse over faith dominated by religious conservatives for some 25 years.

"The problem with that is the discourse is incomplete," Sinkford said.

The Unitarian-Universalistic faith prizes conscience and reason, has little use for dogma and a traditional distaste for proselytizing.

But previous ad campaigns showed a little evangelizing could go a long way.

Similar drives in Kansas City, Houston and Southern California netted new members. A Houston, Texas congregation grew by 10 percent -- 40 people -- after a 2005 advertising blitz.

"Unitarians aren't very much for trying to convert people," said the Rev. Bill Hamilton-Holway of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley. "But so often, people come, and they say, 'This is me, this is perfect for me, but I never knew you were here.'"

The crafters of the campaign say many Americans are unaware of the fundamental role Unitarians have played in shaping the nation's character.

Julia Ward Howe ("Battle Hymn of the Republic") was a Unitarian, as were presidents John Adams, John Quincy Adams, and William Howard Taft. Celebrated Unitarian legal scholars include Oliver Wendell Holmes, Daniel Webster and Clarence Darrow. Unitarian civil rights activists James Reeb and Viola Liuzzo were both slain during Freedom Summer.

Membership declined during the 1970s and has picked up since but modestly.

"We are absolutely interested in younger people," said gUUrilla marketing's Sue Polgar.

Once they arrive, "We hear, 'Where have you been all my life?'" said Cilla Raughley, director of the Central Pacific District.

The church appeals to parents of young children who resist training them in a creed, said Linda Laskowski, trustee from the Berkeley church.

"We don't teach a religion," she said. "We teach religion."

Book details grim abuses suffered by cult's children

The Augusta Chronicle (Georgia)

December 29, 2007 Saturday
ALL EDITION


By Rebecca Rosen Lum, Contra Costa Times

David Berg was a small-time circuit preacher whose flocks ran thin until the late 1960s, when the sexual revolution and the Jesus movement bloomed at once.

He wove the two into a double helix, drawing from the remnants of hippie life - people with nothing to lose, nowhere to go, and no Christian background to serve as a compass while in the thrall of a man who purported to live by Scripture.

His Teens for Christ became the Children of God, with enclaves in California and Texas expanding into a evangelical empire across continents, yielding profit and power for the "end-time prophet" and his inner circle.

But writer Don Lattin is only slightly interested in what makes a self-anointed prophet run. Mr. Lattin, whose book Jesus Freaks (HarperOne, $24.95, 236 pages) was released earlier in December, cares more about what happens to children born into authoritarian groups - the offspring of those who voluntarily cast their lot with people such as Mr. Berg.

Subtitled A True Story of Murder and Madness on the Evangelical Edge, the book follows the brief, tormented life of Ricky Rodriguez, Mr. Berg's designated prophet prince.

As the longtime religion writer for the San Francisco Chronicle, Mr. Lattin plumbed what happens to children in cults, including the Church of Scientology, the Moonies, the Hare Krishnas and the Children of God (which would later be renamed The Family, or Family International).

In each, "The kids didn't have the chance to grow up and be themselves," Mr. Lattin said in an interview just before the book's release. "There were hours and hours a day of indoctrination. In that way, the Children of God was the worst."

The accumulated years of indoctrination exploded for Mr. Rodriguez in a murder-suicide in 2005 that shook Mr. Lattin and compelled him to write the book.

"I was so taken aback by what drove Ricky, raised by The Family, to kill someone else and take his own life," Mr. Lattin said. "He was the ultimate example of what can happen to kids when they're raised in an atmosphere of severe indoctrination. It's a really dark story, a sensational story, I tried to get in the mind-sets of these people."

The Children of God melded apocalyptic Christian evangelism with mind-boggling sexual mores. Mr. Lattin stunned readers when he first detailed the unorthodox practices of the Children of God in 2001.

Mr. Berg dispatched young, attractive female followers to lure male converts through sex in a practice he called "flirty fishing." He discouraged them from using birth control.

Mr. Rodriguez, the first child conceived through "flirty fishing," was the natural son of Mr. Berg's common-law wife, Karen Zerby, also called "Maria," and a waiter she picked up in the Canary Islands. Mr. Rodriguez was called "Davidito."

"Davidito and Maria are going to be the Endtime witnesses," Mr. Berg wrote in 1978. "They are going to have such power they can call down fire from heaven and devour their enemies."

In fact, Mr. Rodriguez did devour his enemies: He left the cult, but tormented by a life of abuse, could not make a life for himself. Driven by rage, he vilified his mother in a videotaped rant, stabbed one of his former nannies to death and shot himself in 2005.

More than 13,000 children were born to followers between 1971 and 2001; "women with six, eight, 10, 13 kids were not uncommon," Mr. Lattin said.

Mothers and caretakers pulled children from their beds at night to engage in sex acts with Mr. Berg in a regular "sharing schedule" (some kids referred to it as the "scaring schedule"). A poor performance yielded brutal punishment.

"They were made to believe their eternal salvation depended on this," Mr. Lattin said.

The group once enjoyed plenty of good press.

In the waning days of the Summer of Love, parents would say, "at least they're Christians," Mr. Lattin said.

Mr. Berg died in 1994, and Ms. Zerby took control of the organization.

Grown survivors of the group have developed a deep suspicion of outsiders and adults, Mr. Lattin said. But gradually, they sensed their stories were safe with this blues guitar-playing writer, part-time professor and married stepfather of two girls, and they let it all out.

"I've never seen so many problems among kids," he said, munching Thai food at a Berkeley haunt.

"The Children of God was a machine to spread the ideas of David Berg," he said. "The children were born to do the same thing. That was the real evil. Then, when they rebelled, as teens do, they would send them off to these re-education camps."

King's work permeates issues of race

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April 4, 2008 Friday


By Rebecca Rosen Lum

Forty years after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., another preacher has ignited a national discussion about race.

This time, the preacher is Sen. Barack Obama's former pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, who recently retired from the 8,000-member Trinity United Church of Christ in Chicago.

Many whites heard Wright's cries of "God damn America" -- in a 2003 sermon -- as combative and incendiary, but for African-Americans, the language sprang from the gospels and the sermon from a tradition of pulpit political oratory.

"The use of the word 'damn' in the Bible, in the Old Testament, is a sacred usage," said Dwight Hopkins, a professor at the University of Chicago Divinity School and a member of Trinity.

"Yahweh damns ancient Israel for moving away from the greatness it could be, through various prophets like Jeremiah, to bring the nation back to the righteous path -- to be the city on the hill," he said.

Americans confused the expression with the profanity "God damn it," he said.

"People don't know the flow of the black sermon," Hopkins said. The speech followed the classic pattern of black church oratory, which stuns with references to injustice and then soars in an uplifting ending.

"To think it would end in anger is an insult to those people," he said.

Obama condemned Wright's words, saying they do not reflect the strides the nation has made in overcoming a past that includes slavery, lynching and segregation. Wright had long been Obama's pastor.

But in a speech that has tallied tens of thousands of hits on YouTube and evoked praise around the nation, Obama also celebrated Wright's sermonizing, which helped him see "the stories of ordinary black people merging with the stories of David and Goliath, Moses and Pharaoh, the Christians in the lion's den, Ezekial's field of dry bones."

Wright is a contemporary voice of black liberation theology, which took root in the mid-1960s as a reaction against a historical message to look to the next life for salvation. The movement surfaced in 1966, when the 51-member National Committee of Negro Churchmen took out a full-page ad in the New York Times calling on the ministry to wage war against racism in Biblical terms.

"A prophet's job is to bring God's judgment within a particular context and that's as old as the religion itself," said the Rev. Dante Quick, who spoke at a candlelight vigil Thursday night honoring King at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley.

"When one reads Revelations, you are reading the words of a man in prison condemning the Roman empire," Quick said. "Many readers of the Bible narrative can point to Jesus as a political victim."

Biblical texts "include rather heated rhetoric that excoriates the dominant powers," said Vincent Wimbush, a professor of religion and director of the Institute for Signifying Scriptures at Claremont Graduate University.

"There is a very long tradition of that. One style is a direct, prophetic, politically aware style," he said.

Clergy in many primarily white congregations have pointed out they also excoriate racism and other social evils from the pulpit.

And black liberation theology founder James Cone wrote in his seminal "Black Theology & Black Power" that the black in black theology encompasses all who are in concert with the oppressed.

"To be black means that your heart, your soul, your mind, and your body are where the dispossessed are," he writes.

If King is revered today for his eloquent calls for equality and his courage, he endured scorn in his day, and not just from Southern white racists.

When he was assassinated April 4, 1968, King had moved beyond a call for black equality and begun challenging the nation's economic and political institutions. He lost the support of many by condemning the Vietnam War and advocating passionately for workers and the poor, Quick said.

The Rev. Cone embraced King and Malcolm X to forge black liberation theology. He said Malcolm X challenged him about his blackness, King about his Christianity.

Hopkins said the two leaders moved toward each other philosophically as their lives neared their ends.

Malcolm X, a Black Muslim minister and spokesman for the Nation of Islam, was shot down Feb. 21, 1965, during a speech in Manhattan.

The primary surprise for Wimbush is that 40 years after King's death, "we are still segregated along the lines of the 18th century in these Christian churches. "We ought to be asking, what accounts for such ignorance?" he said.

The Pacific School of Religion will take up that discussion throughout April -- Advancing Racial Justice Month -- McKinney said.

"There is a willingness across the board for people to resume the conversation that has been too difficult for too long," he said. "People have feared that (engaging in it) would only lead to conflict. From a theological perspective, conflict precedes reconciliation."

For many black theologians, the gap remains wide.

Wright has been berated for sowing dissension, but the white establishment has done it with impunity, Quick said.

Online

Hear four black leaders speak:

Malcolm X: www.brothermalcolm.net/mxwords/whathesaid24.html

Martin Luther King Jr.: www.mlkonline.net/video-martin-luther-king-last-speech.html

Sen. Barack Obama: www.youtube.com/watch?v=eN_Su8ywLwk

The Rev. Jeremiah Wright: ac360.blogs.cnn.com/2008/03/21/the-full-story-behind-rev-jeremiah-wrights-911-sermon/

'Emerging church' seeks the justice Jesus sought


Contra Costa Times
June 5, 2008 Thursday


By Rebecca Rosen Lum

In an apartment a few steps below street level in San Francisco's Mission District, several people -- most in their 20s -- sat in a horseshoe of couches to consider the meaning of service.

In black high-tops, Crocs, hoodies and jeans, they looked much like the hipsters who wait in line Sunday mornings for a table at Boogaloo's a few blocks away on Valencia Street.

This group of Christians gathers each week to grapple with seven intangibles: service, simplicity, creativity, obedience, prayer, community, and love. A young man in a cap reads Colossians I aloud while some look down, others into the distance. Midway into the evening, all take to the streets, battling an icy wind to pick up trash, scrub graffiti and post signs in shop windows exhorting people to honor their neighborhood with cleanliness.

The group is part of the decade-old emerging church movement, an eclectic wave of change propelled by the Internet and peopled globally mainly by the young.

Their Jesus is a radical. They have little use for the institutional church, with its buildings, budgets and boards. They meet in homes. Their aim is to live like Jesus, compelled to service among the poor. They eschew congregations for communities. Their faith is not a doctrine but a conversation -- fluid and evolving.

"Experiment is a word we use a lot," said Adam Klein, who helps lead the loosely organized San Francisco community that calls itself reIMAGINE. "Nobody has lived in 2008 before and lived the way of Jesus, so you have to figure out what it means to you."

Their expression of faith harkens back to the early days of Christianity, he said.

"Part of Paul's job was to encourage people to continue on but without the dogma. When Constantine came around and nationalized the church it became a place where power and control were brokered."

Estimates place the number of emerging church communities at several hundred and growing. The Internet has figured hugely into the movement's growth, "not only in connecting, linking, promoting, recording and communicating, but also in the new media mind-set that it is creating," said Andrew Jones, a New Zealand emergent who blogs from Czechoslovakia under the name tallskinnykiwi.

"The net affects the way we think and relate and store knowledge. It is creating a new set of values and a new hierarchy of leaders. We haven't seen the half of it yet."

They know they are not the first believers compelled by faith to give to the needy. Their difference is that traditional Christian charity may involve compassion but not always a commitment to justice, said Brian McLaren, one of the early emergent thinkers and the author of several books, including "Adventures in Missing the Point," which he wrote with Tony Campolo.

"Eventually, we have to deal with the people causing injustice," McLaren said.

That kind of comment has stirred dismay among some conservative Christians, who say McLaren is a political progressive. He has countered that he is not politically progressive if that means living a secular life with government meeting all human needs.

The emergent church emphasizes Christ's message of social justice, seeks the kind of spirituality that flows from that and creates a community that supports that spirituality, he said.

Some emergents embrace ancient ritual, including the Eucharist, and they evangelize, although in social action they may not necessarily talk about their faith at all.

"St. Francis of Assisi said it best: Go preach the gospel and if necessary use words," said Darin Petersen of Oakland, who travels frequently to Philadelphia for community projects. "The best evangelism is living a contagious life."

"The problem with (traditional) evangelizing is that it is delivering answers to people who are not seeking them," he said. "We need to be a peculiar people. Jesus gives the order of what that looks like and what that means."

In an early project, Petersen and 30 others invited homeless people to a cash give-away on Wall Street after receiving a legal settlement.

"It was a beautiful expression of sharing this abundance," he said. "We walked away thinking, what would a daily rhythm of this be like?" After studying the Jewish tradition of using tithes to help care for widows and orphans in the community, they developed a global community of people who share one-tenth of their earnings with those in need. "Jesus was political," said Klein, whose community helped pay for his recent trip to Africa to build mobile medical clinics. "If it was all about the life after, he wouldn't have been killed the way he was."

Some reIMAGINE participants just bought a duplex on an East Oakland street that has been rocked by sideshows and three murders over the past few weeks. They want their new Shalom community to love, serve, and engage the troubled neighborhood, said Nate Milheim.

"What I've been excited about is taking Jesus more seriously as a teacher as well as a savior," Milheim, 30, who is cleaning up the house with his wife, their two daughters and a couple who will share it. "Let's learn from this master, Jesus, this revolutionary, radical guy. I want to explore what it would be to live like him."

"I realize we have a lot to learn," he said. "If the things happen that I dream of happening, it will take a while."

Pew survey: Americans religiously tolerant

Contra Costa Times (California)

June 22, 2008 Sunday



Rebecca Rosen Lum
Contra Costa Times


Most religious Americans believe there is more than one road to God, and more than one divine destination, a new report shows.

The report, released today by the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life, undercuts the image of religious Americans as a monolithic group with a predictable ideology and party affiliation. It also shows that most believers do not claim to have the sole route to salvation.

"Not only is there more than one true way, there is more than one true way to interpret their religion," said Pew research fellow Gregory Smith. "The degree to which that held true across the majority of religions, even among evangelical Protestants, that was quite striking."

A majority in only two religions, Mormons, at 57 percent, and Jehovah's Witnesses, at 80 percent, believe their faith is the single path to eternal life. The two groups also believe there is only one way to interpret the tenets of their faiths.

Muslims were among the most devout of all the religious groups queried. Eighty-two percent pray at least weekly, and 86 percent view the Quran as the word of God. But most honor other faiths, and, in the United States, 60 percent see more than one way to construe the teachings of Islam. The data on American Muslim faith practices and attitudes came from the Pew Center's exhaustive 2007 study.

A solid majority of evangelicals, too, agree that other types of believers can attain salvation.

"You might get different answers to these questions if you polled (religious) leaders," said the Rev. Brian Stein-Webber, director of the Contra Costa Interfaith Council. "There has always been a disconnect. This is a very populist survey."

Interfaith campaigns and a cultural emphasis on tolerance is bearing fruit, suggested the president of UC Berkeley's Graduate Theological Union.

"It is the result of living side by side with people of other faiths," said James Donahue. "We see they are good people, they work hard, they have integrity -- why shouldn't they get eternal salvation, too?"

The report is the second part of a landmark survey released in February. Part one documented theological fluidity among Americans: Nearly 30 percent have left the faiths of their childhood -- sometimes adopting a new religion, sometimes none at all.

Based on interviews conducted in English and Spanish with more than 35,000 adults, part two examines beliefs and practices, and attitudes about the environment, homosexuality, abortion, foreign affairs and the role of government.

Overall, Americans' faith holds strong: 88 percent are absolutely or fairly certain about their belief in God or "a universal spirit." The survey also included these findings:

  • Most believers expressed dissatisfaction with the country's direction.
  • Majorities of every faith group favored stricter environmental laws and regulations.
  • Majorities of all faith groups but Mormons said the government should do more to help needy Americans, regardless of the cost.
  • The best way to ensure peace is through good diplomacy, not military might, said majorities of Protestants, Catholics, Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, Christian Orthodox, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and the unaffiliated.

A majority of Catholics, Jews, Buddhists, the unaffiliated and other faiths say society should accept homosexuality, a belief rejected by evangelical Protestants, Jehovah's Witnesses, Mormons and Muslims.

"It's here we see a deep religious divide," Smith said. "Religious groups tend to line up on this issue. These are quite sharp religious distinctions."

Catholics are evenly divided on whether the church should express its views on social and political matters, and close to evenly divided on whether abortion should be illegal in all cases.

"People talk about the Catholic vote," Smith said. "To some extent, this gets to the very core of their diversity."

The survey documented a similarity of attitudes among Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, and members of historically black and evangelical faiths.

Overwhelmingly, Mormons (91 percent), Jehovah's Witnesses (82 percent), and members of evangelical (79 percent) and historically black churches (71percent) see God as a person with whom they relate. A majority firmly believe in the existence of angels and demons. Their members attend services consistently, and most say they would resist adjusting their faith to modern times.

Although the prevailing wisdom may link evangelicals to Republican conservatism, 34 percent of evangelicals claim to be Democratic or leaning that way.

"The thing to keep in mind is what this illustrates," Smith said. "We talk about religion in monolithic terms. There really is a great deal of internal diversity."

WOMEN ORDAINED, DEFYING VATICAN

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September 17, 2006 Sunday



By Rebecca Rosen Lum

At 11, Kathleen Stack Kunster felt a strong pull to the priesthood. When the 61-year-old Emeryville, Calif., woman was finally ordained July 31 in a riverboat ceremony in Pennsylvania, she cried for an hour and a half.

``It was extremely powerful -- amazing,'' said Kunster, who has a master's degree in divinity and a doctorate in psychology. ``I've been wrestling with this for a long time. It feels relentless, the knowledge the person is not doing what they're supposed to do, so nothing else fits. It can be painful.''

Since then, Kunster has undergone a transformation of sorts. Everything clicks. A self-described introvert, she finds herself much more approachable.

``It's like I've come into my own,'' she said.

Kunster is part of a ripple of women who have decided to stop waiting for the Vatican to ordain female priests and go it on their own. Twelve women joined the priesthood with her last month.

In ceremonies held around the world, women bishops, themselves ordained by supportive male bishops are anointing women into the priesthood. The male bishops have remained anonymous for fear of retribution by the church.

The women say their training is as rigorous as that for male candidates, and omits only conversations with the diocese, which does not recognize them.

The ceremonies have taken place on waterways -- the Danube, the Ohio River, the St. Lawrence Waterway -- because water carries profound symbolism in the Christian faith and they cannot go through the ritual in a Catholic church.

``I have been called for a very long time and I am not going to wait any longer,'' said Victoria Rue, who, as a child, stood on the steps of her front porch to dispense Necco Wafers in a communion re-enactment with the children of the neighborhood.

Rue, who holds a doctorate in theology, now teaches at San Jose State University and conducts services for the school community with Kunster and Don Cordero, a Jesuit priest who was excommunicated after marrying.

The Catholic Church has not permitted women to be ordained since the 13th century. In a 1994 papal letter, Pope John Paul II reaffirmed the rule. The church ``has no authority whatsoever to confer priestly ordination on women and that this judgment is to be definitively held by all the church's faithful.''

Cardinal Justin Rigali, the archbishop of Philadelphia, has sent to the Vatican the name of at least one woman who has joined the priesthood.

``From the perspective of the Roman Catholic Church, they are not considered to be valid ordinations,'' said the Rev. Mark Weiser, spokesman for the Oakland (Calif.) Diocese. ``It's important for people to know that any sacraments that one of these women perform, we would not recognize.'' Such sacraments include marriage, baptisms or last rites.

But some scholars say they have found evidence that ordained women routinely performed sacraments up until the 1200s. These scholars include former priest John Wijngaards, who has dedicated himself to helping women enter the priesthood.

``Women seem to have been ordained as priests in some regions,'' he said. ``However, it was commonplace during the first nine centuries for women to be ordained deacons, especially in the Eastern part of the church. Since this ordination was a truly sacramental ordination, women were therefore admitted to holy orders.''

With a shortage of priests in the U.S., couldn't the church benefit from women priests?

``I know there is plenty of work and not enough priests to do it,'' Weiser said. But, he said, the shortage has fired up plenty of parishioners with skills to donate their time to the church doing administrative tasks, freeing priests for other duties.

Some may wonder why the women fight so hard to belong to a church that does not want them in its highest ranks.

``That's an excellent question, and a lot of women waiting have become ordained in other faiths,'' largely Episcopal, said Sharon Danner, spokeswoman for the Women's Ordination Conference, a support organization based in Virginia. ``That's a very common thing. Their faith is so important to them. They won't give up hope.''

Rue says her point isn't just to break into the priesthood, but to recraft the church as less hierarchical and more inclusive.

``I do not want to be part of a club that is exclusive,'' she said. ``We are very, very concerned about returning the church to the way it was when Jesus founded it, with all people welcome at the table.''