"Like all great satire, the book is cerebral, irreverent and hilarious, while also edifying" Publisher's Weekly
"This book is hilarious... [Lanham] didn't skimp on his research. The book provides a telling overview of the religious right's leadership, the beliefs they espouse, and just how incredibly absurd and hypocritical they are." The Campaign to Defend the Constitution
Editor's Pick: "From the author of The Hipster Handbook comes this irreverent navigation of all things Evangelical. Learn enough slang to fit in at a church picnic or why SpongeBob SquarePants is an agent of the Devil" Chicago Sun-Times
"This guy has written quite a funny book." Alan Colmes, Fox News
"A funny book with some funny cartoons on everyone from Rick Warren as the evangelical Jimmy Buffett to a guide for Christian haircuts that is hilarious... I was chuckling until I saw that I am the postscript" Mark Driscoll, pastor of the largest megachurch in Washington State
"Every good little liberal will have this book on order as a stocking stuffer come Jesus' birthday." Time Out
"A handbook for coping with bible thumpers.... When considering the power and influence evangelical Christians wield in this country, you have to laugh to keep from crying. Robert Lanham... understands this well and offers much needed, totally biased comic relief." Village Voice
"Not only is this an important book, it's a funny book." Marc Maron, Air America Radio
"Author Robert Lanham is an observer... but with his latest, The Sinner's Guide to the Evangelical Right, Lanham's keen eye has hit perhaps his most entertaining target." Metro Paper
"It’s hard to remember a more pointed and scathing attack… Lanham launches a focused, sustained barrage on the Pat Robertsons and James Dobsons of the world… He’s done his homework. The book is thoroughly researched and packed with quotes and analysis of the famous and not-so-famous leaders of the evangelical right… the research is truly impressive. " The Reader
"An utterly biased, humorous one-stop guide to the major evangelical players." Details
"Check out Robert Lanham's (author of the fabled Hipster Handbook and former Bible Belt resident) Sinner's Guide to the Evangelical Right. It's funny because it's true." Elizabeth Spiers, founding Editor of Gawker
"Like the Daily Show or The Colbert Report, it's humor reveals the basic truth. Which is to say that the "sinners" of the world may be closer to Jesus and the divine than those who use God's name for personal enrichment, power building, and political gain." Buzzflash
"The book does for religion what Jon Stewart does for politics." CanWest News Service
"Informative, laugh-out-loud funny and horrifying at times, check out this snide, leftie-geared guide to the major evangelical players... Robert Lanham has a writing style that resembles... McSweeney's, and the irony-stacked humor of TV programs such as "The Daily Show" Style Weekly, Richmond VA
"Hilarious... go out and buy this book now." Sam Seder, The Majority Report
"This book should lay at the lifeless feet of your corpse as a silent, yet
powerful and all encompassing explanation as to why you took your own life."
David Cross, Arrested Development
Dutch creationist Johan Huibers built the ark as testament to his literal belief in the Bible. The ark, in the town of Schagen, is 150 cubits long - half the length of Noah's - and three storeys high. A cubit was about 45cm (18in) long.
The ark opened its doors on Saturday, after almost two years' construction, most of it by Mr Huiber himself.
"The design is by my wife, Bianca," Mr Huibers said. "She didn't really want me to do this at all, but she said if you're going to anyway, it should look like this."
Life-size models of giraffes, elephants, lions, crocodiles, zebras and bison are included in the ark's interior.
The Bible's Book of Genesis says Noah kept seven pairs of most tamed animals and one breeding pair of all other creatures in the boat, which survived a catastrophic flood sent down by God to punish man.
Mr Huibers, a contractor, built the ark out of cedar and pine - because Biblical scholars are still not sure as to which type of wood was used in the ark's construction.
He began building in May 2005, after he dreamed of the Netherlands being flooded.
"In February 1992, I had a dream that Holland will become flooded. The next day, I found a book about Noah's Ark in the local bookshop, and since then, my dream has been to build the ark," he said.
Visitors were stunned. "It's past comprehension," Mary Louise Starosciak told the Associated Press.
"I knew the story of Noah, but I had no idea the boat would have been so big."
The ark includes a 50-seat theatre showing a segment of the Disney film Fantasia retelling the story of Noah's Ark.
US visitor Lois Poppema told AP she thought the Netherlands was the right place for an ark to be built: "Just a few weeks ago we saw Al Gore on television .. saying that all Holland will be flooded.
"I don't think the man who made this ever expected that global warning will become [such an important] issue - and suddenly having the ark would be meaningful in the middle of Holland."
A coalition of religious leaders took on the Catholic Church, the U.S. Supreme Court and the Bush administration on Tuesday with a plea to take religion out of health care in the United States.
They said last week's Supreme Court decision outlawing a certain type of abortion demonstrated that religious belief was interfering with personal rights and the U.S. health care system in general.
The group, calling itself the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice, said it planned to submit its proposals to other church groups and lobby Congress and state legislators.
"With the April 18 Supreme Court decision banning specific abortion procedures, concerns are being raised in religious communities about the ethics of denying these services," the group said in a statement.
"They are imposing their points of view," Barbara Kavadias, director of field services for the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice, told reporters in a telephone briefing.
She noted that the five Supreme Court justices on the majority in the 5-4 decision were all Catholic men -- Chief Justice John Roberts, Justice Anthony Kennedy, Justice Samuel Alito, Justice Clarence Thomas and Justice Antonin Scalia.
All were appointed by conservative Republican presidents who oppose abortion, including President George W. Bush.
The group also complained about Catholic-owned hospitals that refuse to sterilize women who ask for it, refuse to let doctors perform abortions and do not provide contraception.
"Doctors, pharmacists and nurses are also increasingly exercising a so-called 'religious or moral objection,' refusing to provide essential services and often leaving patients without other options," the group said in a statement.
"And now, to make it worse, the government is codifying these refusals, first through legislation and now with the recent Supreme Court decision, where five Catholic men decided that they could better determine what was moral and good than the physicians, women and families facing difficult, personal choices in problem pregnancies," it added.
The group includes ordained Protestant ministers, a Jewish activist, an expert on women's reproductive rights and several physicians.
"The threat comes from a few, but powerful, religions and a few ... powerful religious leaders who pretend to speak for all religions," said Larry Greenfield, executive minister of the American Baptist Churches of Metro Chicago.
"Health care decisions ought to be made freely, based on medical expertise and individual conscience," he added.
The group wrote up a series of guidelines and asked for all health care providers to implement them.
They include allowing doctors to use best medical practices, providing comprehensive counseling on sexual or reproductive health and an agreement to honor advance directives -- including "do not resuscitate" orders.
"Refusal to provide health care would be balanced by alternate service delivery so that no one would be victimized when another exercises his/her conscience," the guidelines read.
Marie Hilliard of the National Catholic Bioethics Center in Philadelphia said she had grave concerns about the report.
"There is no recognition of the true meaning of the separation of church and state, which mandates that the free exercise of religion, including that of the provider, be respected," she said.
"What we have tried to avoid is to be coercive ourselves," Greenfield said. "We have tried to allow for the freedom of conscience of every participant in the health care system."
He calls himself the Antichrist, wears the number 666 tattooed on his arm and claims a following of 2 million people. And Jose Luis de Jesus Miranda is coming to Guatemala whether it wants him or not.
The Central American country has banned the leader of the Florida-based Growing in Grace church, arguing he is a security risk because he provokes conflict with Roman Catholics and evangelicals. But Miranda still plans to fly in on a private jet Saturday to celebrate his 61st birthday and meet with thousands of followers from around the world.
"It has been predestined and angels will make it happen. He is, after all, God himself," said Axel Poessy, Miranda's media director.
It is the Puerto Rican-born former evangelical priest's latest attempts to expand his following in Central America. Most of his supporters are in Miami and Colombia, but Miranda holds a congress every year in different locations in the Americas. He has a 24-hour Spanish-language television network and a radio program broadcast on 287 stations.
He often takes aim at the Catholic Church -- the most powerful faith in Latin America -- calling all priests child molesters and saying chastity vows go against the Bible's teachings. Members of his church have torn up images of saints and other religious symbols in El Salvador, and marched in Guatemala and Honduras.
He preaches that sin and the devil do not exist. In January, he revealed tattoos of the numbers 666 on his forearms and declared that he and his followers were antichrists because their beliefs supersede those of Jesus Christ. The Bible describes the antichrist as someone who will fill the world with wickedness but be conquered by a second coming of Christ.
Guatemala's Congress labeled him a terrorist, and immigration officials have been instructed to refuse him entry to the country. Honduras and El Salvador have also banned him.
"Many have told me that I shouldn't pay attention to a crazy man like him, but Hitler was also crazy and look what he did," said Julio Morales, the congressman who proposed the resolution declaring Miranda a terrorist. "We took this measure because they have burned crosses, images of Christ in other countries and demonstrated in front of an evangelical church in Guatemala, just to create confrontation."
It was not clear, however, if the government would be able to block Miranda's private jet from landing. His right-hand man, Carlos Cestero, said Miranda has been in Guatemala at least 14 times in the past decade — before he declared himself the antichrist.
Followers see Miranda as a savior. Critics say he is a dangerous cult leader.
"What is more evil than all the exorbitant titles associated with him is the power he exercises over his followers," said Daniel Alvarez, an instructor in the department of religious studies at Florida International University who has studied the movement. "He wants attention, shock value, and he's always trying to top what he did before."
Miranda, who lives in Miami, founded the Growing in Grace church in 1986 and based the church in suburban Doral. He preaches to followers in some 35 nations, mostly in Latin America.
Hundreds have followed his lead by getting "666" tattoos. The number 666 is often associated with the Antichrist or the devil.
In a tidy shop in an upscale, Guatemala City neighborhood, 18-year-old Andrea Recinos hunched over as a tattoo artist carved "666" across her back, decorating the number with angel wings.
"I wanted to show my love to the apostle," she said, referring to Miranda. "I wanted to show the whole world that I am an antichrist."
Other followers get "SSS" tattoos, referring to Miranda's motto of "Salvo, siempre salvo," or "Saved, always saved." He believes sinning is impossible because Christ died for the sins of mankind.
Cestero said some of the sect's members donate 50 percent to 80 percent of their earnings to Growing in Grace, often in appreciation of the church's message that nothing is sinful.
"When someone is thankful, they show it by giving a gift, and the people are thankful for the liberty given to them," he said.
The Vatican's second-highest ranking doctrinal official on Monday forcefully branded homosexual marriage an evil and denounced abortion and euthanasia as forms of "terrorism with a human face."
The attack by Archbishop Angelo Amato, secretary of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, was the latest in a string of speeches made by either
Pope Benedict or other
Vatican officials as Italy considers giving more rights to gays.
In an address to chaplains, Amato said newspapers and television bulletins often seemed like "a perverse film about evil." He denounced "evils that remain almost invisible" because the media presented them as "expression of human progress."
He listed these as abortion clinics, which he called "slaughterhouses of human beings," euthanasia, and "parliaments of so-called civilized nations where laws contrary to the nature of the human being are being promulgated, such as the approval of marriage between people of the same sex ..."
Amato spoke at a time when the Vatican and Italy's powerful Roman Catholic Church are at loggerheads over plans for a highly controversial law that would give unmarried heterosexual and homosexual couples some form of legal recognition.
The Church and Catholic politicians, even some in Prime Minister Romano Prodi's centre-left coalition, see the proposed law as a Trojan Horse and say it could lead to gay marriages.
Amato, who is said to be very close to Pope Benedict, criticized the media's coverage of ethical issues.
After denouncing "abominable terrorism" such as that carried out by suicide bombers, he condemned what he called "terrorism with a human face," and accused the media of manipulating language "to hide the tragic reality of the facts."
"For example, abortion is called 'voluntary interruption of pregnancy' and not the killing of a defenseless human being, an abortion clinic is given a harmless, even attractive, name: 'centre for reproductive health' and euthanasia is blandly called 'death with dignity'," he said in his address.
Gay rights group have criticized the Pope and Catholic Church officials in the past over such comments, accusing them of interfering in Italy's domestic affairs.
Groups opposed to gay marriage and recognition of unmarried couples are planning a national rally in Rome next month.
Italy's Roman Catholic Church, set up on diocesan and parish levels, has the organizational machinery to mobilize hundreds of thousands of people. A huge turnout, which is expected, could be a major embarrassment for Prodi's government.
In Aruba and the Czech Republic, Pat Robertson's legal organization, the American Center for Law and Justice (ACLJ), helped defeat bills that would have legalized same-sex unions.
For the past two months, the Busekros family has been fighting a court battle to regain custody of their 15-year-old daughter, Melissa. German police took her from her home here, and placed her in a psychiatric ward. The reason: She was being home-schooled, which violates Germany's compulsory education law.
Melissa's plight has struck a chord with US evangelicals, who often see home-schooling as a way to instill Christian values. American evangelical groups have rushed to the family's aid, providing legal counsel and lobbying the German parliament.
Many American Christians have reached out to the Busekros family, who now have two wicker baskets stuffed with hundreds of letters from supporters. "It reminds us that we are not alone, that there are people standing behind us and giving us the strength to fight," says Melissa's mother, Gudrun.
The Busekros case is emblematic of the growing effort by US Christian legal organizations to take the "culture wars" overseas. Pushing back against a perceived assault on their values by an increasingly secular society, the groups are striving to influence European law on issues ranging from home schooling to stem-cell research to gay marriage. A few recent examples include:
-- In Britain, the Alliance Defense Fund (ADF), an organization founded by American evangelical leaders, is funding a lawsuit brought by a Christian man who was fired for refusing to work on Sunday. It is also helping to develop the legal strategy.
-- In Sweden, ADF played a key role in persuading the Supreme Court to dismiss charges against Ake Green, a pastor who was convicted of hate-crime charges after he delivered a sermon in which he called gays a "deep cancerous tumor in the entire society."
-- In Aruba and the Czech Republic, Pat Robertson's legal organization, the American Center for Law and Justice (ACLJ), helped defeat bills that would have legalized same-sex unions.
-- In France, ACLJ affiliate ECLJ (the European Center for Law and Justice), is staging a legal challenge against an antisect law that it says is being used to clamp down on evangelical Christian churches.
-- And on the European Union level, ECLJ is lobbying to block funding for embryonic stem-cell research. READ IT ALL
The Supreme Court's conservative majority handed anti-abortion forces a major victory Wednesday in a decision that bans a controversial abortion procedure and set the stage for further restrictions.
For the first time since the court established a woman's right to an abortion in 1973, the justices upheld a nationwide ban on a specific abortion method, labeled partial-birth abortion by its opponents.
The 5-4 decision written by Justice Anthony Kennedy said the Partial Birth Abortion Ban Act that Congress passed and President Bush signed into law in 2003 does not violate a woman's constitutional right to an abortion.
The law is constitutional despite not containing an exception that would allow the procedure if needed to preserve a woman's health, Kennedy said. "The law need not give abortion doctors unfettered choice in the course of their medical practice," he wrote in the majority opinion. READ IT ALL
The Rev. Ted Haggard moved Wednesday from his longtime home in Colorado Springs to Phoenix, where the disgraced minister will join the same church that helped fallen televangelist Jim Bakker.
Haggard, 50, resigned as president of the National Association of Evangelicals last year, after a former male prostitute alleged a three-year cash-for-sex relationship. The man also said he saw Haggard use methamphetamine. Haggard confessed to undisclosed "sexual immorality" and said he bought meth but never used it.
As part of his severance package from New Life Church, a 14,000-member congregation he started in his basement, Haggard agreed to leave Colorado Springs, a city he helped make an evangelical center.
"When he moved out of town today, there was a kind of relief on the part of the church that life can get back to normal," said the Rev. H.B. London, one of three ministers overseeing what has been called Haggard's "restoration." "For the Haggards, it is the beginning of a huge new chapter. It's a brand new start for them, the beginning of a new beginning."
Before his fall, Haggard was an emerging voice in evangelical politics. He took part in White House conference calls and fought to broaden the movement's agenda to include environmental issues.
In Phoenix, Haggard plans to pursue a graduate degree in counseling at an area university, said London, who heads an outreach effort for pastors through Focus on the Family, the Colorado Springs-based conservative Christian group. London was not sure where Haggard would be studying. The Haggards and two of their children _ another three are grown _ are expected to live in a home made available by a supporter.
Ted and Gayle Haggard have ties to Phoenix. The couple spent three weeks at secular treatment center in the area after the scandal broke. And the Pentecostal church they will attend, Phoenix First Assembly of God, is led by the Rev. Tommy Barnett, another member of Haggard's restoration team.
Bakker, the televangelist, found refuge at Barnett's church after being released from federal prison for bilking supporters of $158 million. He volunteered at a Los Angeles church mission run by Barnett's son.
London said he believes Barnett told his congregation Sunday that Haggard would be joining them. Barnett and officials at his church did not return calls seeking comment.
Haggard faces a test in going from being on the pulpit to becoming just another face in the pews, London said.
"Once you were in charge of a megachurch and a mega-staff and making mega-decisions, now your main decision is where you're going to school, where to eat and what you're going to do on your day off," London said.
The Rev. Mike Ware, a member of a separate panel of pastors that investigated the claims against Haggard, said: "We've all been in agreement that Ted should have a fresh start, gain some fresh perspective, and it's very difficult for them to get the kind of healing they need staying in Colorado Springs."
Ware said Haggard is continuing to receive counseling, which officials said will include an exploration of his sexuality. Haggard has told his advisers he does not believe he's gay.
As part of a severance package that will pay Haggard through 2007, Haggard agreed not only to leave town but to refrain from discussing the scandal publicly. He did not return messages Wednesday. Haggard's most recent annual salary was about $138,000, benefits excluded.
His former congregation has felt the sting of the scandal. Since Haggard's fall, attendance has fallen 20 percent and giving has dropped 10 percent, said Rob Brendle, an associate pastor. As a result of the decline, the church laid off 44 employees, or 12 percent of its work force.
A new campaign from Jesus Metropolitan Community Church of Indianapolis, with help from Faith In America and Metropolitan Community Churches this week began blanketing the Indianapolis area with billboards challenging Christian assumptions about homosexuality.
According to Faith in America, the five billboards (pictured) direct viewers to a website that provides support for the claims made on each.
Said Rev. Jimmy Creech, Executive Director of Faith In America: "In the past, many Christians misused the Bible to support slavery, oppose equal rights for women, and oppose interracial marriage. They went so far as to accuse people on the other side of being unbiblical. The same thing is happening again with respect to same-gender relationships. It has to stop."
Added Pastor Jeff Miner of Jesus Metropolitan Community Church: "Right now, most people think this is a debate between people who love the Bible -- conservative Christians -- and people who want to throw out the Bible – godless homosexuals. Nothing could be further from the truth. Our Church welcomes hundreds of devout gay Christians who love the Bible deeply. Our goal is to rescue the Bible from misinterpretations driven by cultural prejudice, so its true message of grace, hope, and peace can come through."
The Indiana legislature recently killed a proposed ban on same-sex marriage despite dogged efforts by religious and "pro-family" conservatives (including Indianapolis Colts coach Tony Dungy) to pass it. The billboard campaign is slated to remain up for a month.
Jim & Casper Go to Church: Frank Conversation About Faith, Churches, and Well-meaning Christians
We've been meaning to give a shout-out to our friend Matt Casper's new book, Jim & Casper Go to Church. The book is an enlightening overview of some of today's leading megachurches and the tactics they use to recruit new followers. In a nutshell, Matt Casper, an unapologetic aetheist, is hired by conservative pastor Jim Henderson to critique a wide array of high profile churches including Saddleback, The Potter's House, and Lakewood. The dialogue that emerges between Jim & Casper is enlightening and at times hilarious. You can get a taste here (pdf file) or pick up a copy here. We highly recommend it.
Students who participated in sexual abstinence programs were just as likely to have sex as those who did not, according to a study ordered by Congress.
Also, those who attended one of the four abstinence classes reviewed reported having similar numbers of sexual partners as those who did not attend the classes. And they first had sex about the same age as other students — 14.9 years, according to Mathematica Policy Research Inc.
The federal government spends about $176 million a year promoting abstinence until marriage. Critics have repeatedly said they did not believe the programs worked.
Bush administration officials cautioned against drawing sweeping conclusions from the study, saying the four programs were some of the very first established after Congress overhauled the nation’s welfare laws in 1996.
Officials said one lesson they learned from the study was that the abstinence message should be reinforced in subsequent years.
“This report confirms that these interventions are not like vaccines,” said Harry Wilson, associate commissioner of the Family and Youth Services Bureau at the federal Administration for Children and Families. “You can’t expect one dose in middle school, or a small dose, to be protective all throughout the youth’s high school career.”
Even on American highways crowded with giant family cars, buses are still big enough to make a point. For his acid tour in 1964, Ken Kesey had his Merry Pranksters repaint a 1939 school bus in psychedelic colors with brooms. These days buses are plastic-wrapped with their messages, like giant Twinkies on a mission.
The one driving down Route 7 in Virginia yesterday was purplish on one side and orange sunset on the other. In huge letters it said "Social Justice for Gay, Bisexual and Transgender People." On the highway, fellow drivers either honked and waved or threw Coke cans. In Sioux City, Iowa, someone spray-painted the bus with "Fag, God doesn't love you." READ IT ALL
Christine Bakke walks into a church in suburban Denver, a long, low building that used to be a supermarket. It’s closed, but the 35-year-old graphic designer, whose wide smile and quick wit have always opened doors, tells the security guard that she is a former congregant and just wants to see the old place again.
He lets us into the hangar-size sanctuary, and Christine strides up front to a stage, then stops. “This is where it happened,” she says, no longer smiling. “And after it was over, this is where I was on the floor crying.”
She still remembers the excitement in the air that night, the music pounding, the people pogo-ing up and down in revelry. “The preacher wanted me to say something,” she recalls. “I didn’t want to, at first, so he kept saying, ‘Repeat after me, repeat after me,’ until I finally yelled it out at the top of my lungs: ‘I want to be the woman God created me to be!’ It was this real heal-the-lesbian moment.
Christine saw her choices as stark and self-limiting: To be a “real Christian,” she felt she could no longer be a “real lesbian.” She began investigating various ex-gay programs and thinking about starting her life over. Initially she was drawn to a residential boot camp program, but the literature made it sound too restrictive. The many rules included a ban on computers (so you couldn’t see anything gay online) and no time alone for the first three weeks (not uncommon in ex-gay programs--one even times how long people stay in the bathroom to prevent masturbation).
On a marquee outside and on a banner inside, Pilgrim United Church of Christ proclaims, “All are welcome.” Sustained by the belief that embracing all comers is a living example of Christ’s love, Pilgrim now faces a profound test of faith.
In late January, Mark Pliska, 53, told the congregation here that he had been in prison for molesting children but that he sought a place to worship and liked the atmosphere at Pilgrim.
Mr. Pliska’s request has plunged the close-knit congregation into a painful discussion about applying faith in a difficult real-world situation. Congregants now wonder, are all truly welcome? If they are, how do you ensure the safety of children and the healing of adult survivors of sexual abuse? Can an offender who accepts Christ truly change?
“I think what we have been through is a loss of innocence,” said the Rev. Madison Shockley, Pilgrim’s minister. “People think of church as an idyllic paradise, and I think that is a great part of that loss.”
Pilgrim’s struggle mirrors those of other congregations, of various faiths, across the country.
Richard Land, president of the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention, said that over the last five years pastors had called him to seek advice about how to deal with sex offenders who had returned from prison and wanted to return to church.
The Rev. Debra W. Haffner, director of the Religious Institute on Sexual Morality, Justice and Healing in Norwalk, Conn., said she received one or two calls a month from congregations facing a crisis similar to Pilgrim’s.
Having a policy to deal with sex offenders before a crisis occurs is the best way to avoid turmoil, Ms. Haffner said. But such a policy still may force a congregation to decide under what circumstances an offender can attend, a discussion that can shake many churches to their core.
“They are conflicting ministries,” the Rev. Patricia Tummino said about reaching out to sex offenders, to children and to adult survivors of abuse. Since the late 1990s, Ms. Tummino’s congregation, the First Unitarian Universalist Society in Middleboro, Mass., has dealt with two known sex offenders. “You can’t be all things to all people,” she said.
Congregations have always had sex offenders, largely unknown to others, Ms. Haffner said.
Parole officers have encouraged offenders who have been jailed to seek congregations as a source of community and support, Ms. Haffner said.
States have computerized registries of sex offenders that let anyone check on a new congregant. Local news media often report on a sex offender’s arrival from prison, making it hard for a parolee to remain anonymous.
After being released in mid-2006, Mr. Pliska ended up at First Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, in Santa Cruz, Calif.
“My spiritual growth is very important to me,” Mr. Pliska said in an interview in Mr. Shockley’s office. “I went looking for an open and affirming church and attended a U.C.C. church and liked it.”
The United Church of Christ takes pride in its liberalism, and it has led other Protestant denominations in the ordination of women and on civil rights issues.
In Santa Cruz, Mr. Pliska agreed to avoid children and to always be escorted by another adult. The church has two services, which made it easier for those uncomfortable with him to still worship.
But business was slow and he lost his job as a mechanic, Mr. Pliska said, and in December, he moved to Carlsbad, an affluent seaside town 30 miles north of San Diego.
Mr. Shockley received an e-mail message from Santa Cruz about Mr. Pliska’s search for a new congregation. He said he thought that if Pilgrim established the same limits as Santa Cruz had, Mr. Pliska’s presence would be as uneventful.
Before introducing Mr. Pliska to the congregation, Mr. Shockley spoke to a few congregants who had been abused as children and to parents, and none objected to Mr. Pliska’s inclusion.
But Mr. Pliska’s introduction unlocked a flood of emotions among the 300 members.
“The scariest moment,” Mr. Shockley said, “was when I got the feeling in the congregation about whether Mark could attend or not, and we needed more time, yet people were saying ‘If he stays, I leave,’ or ‘If he leaves, I leave.’ ”
The church has pulled back from that edge, and most people seem to be listening respectfully to one another. A few families have stopped attending. Some new people have started to come, impressed by local news accounts of the congregation’s willingness to consider having Mr. Pliska.
Tristan Green attends with her three sons, and is torn about having Mr. Pliska in the congregation. She believes he should be welcome but she wonders how she might keep track of the boys during the social hour, whether they would enjoy the freedom to play, whether Mr. Pliska would get the church’s pictorial members’ directory.
“I’d feel uncomfortable,” said her oldest son, Sebastian, 9, “but we’re supposed to let everybody come.”
Samantha Peterson, 21, said she believed Mr. Pliska should attend. “I feel that those who are fearful have a very valid opinion, but we have a unique opportunity to be really tested and to make the right decision,” she said. “I don’t think this guy is a danger. He’s asking for help.”
Her mother, Missy Peterson, who also has a 10-year-old son, said she felt guilty about her wariness. But she could not ignore it.
“Why should I reserve judgment and not listen to the bells and whistles in my gut that say ‘No’?” Ms. Peterson asked.
Adult survivors of sexual abuse are also shaken by the possibility of worshipping with a sex offender.
“There are people who feel that if we don’t welcome Mark, we lose who we are,” said David Irvine, 48, who was sexually abused as a child. “But what do you say to one member who was abused for 10 years, several times a week? By welcoming one person, are we rescinding our welcome to some of the survivors among us, people in pain and healing, members of our family?”
An ad hoc committee at the church is trying to develop a “safe church” policy that would apply to sex offenders and would also create programs to prevent sexual abuse through education and screening of anyone working with children.
The policy is expected to be ready for discussion in early May, Mr. Shockley said. Mr. Pliska has been asked not to attend worship services for now, but he meets weekly with a small group from Pilgrim.
In the meantime, publicity over his arrival at Pilgrim led to Mr. Pliska’s eviction and the loss of his job. He is homeless and unemployed. Yet he said he does not regret being open with the church, after spending years hiding who he was.
“So far, there is no upside,” he said. “But there will be later on. God makes miracles in different ways.”
The title of the course was Constitutional Law, but the subject was sin. Before any casebooks were opened, a student led his classmates in a 10-minute devotional talk, completed with "amens," about the need to preserve their Christian values.
"Sin is so appealing because it's easy and because it's fun," the law student warned.
Regent University School of Law, founded by televangelist Pat Robertson to provide "Christian leadership to change the world," has worked hard in its two-decade history to upgrade its reputation, fighting past years when a majority of its graduates couldn't pass the bar exam and leading up to recent victories over Ivy League teams in national law student competitions.
But even in its darker days, Regent has had no better friend than the Bush administration. Graduates of the law school have been among the most influential of the more than 150 Regent University alumni hired to federal government positions since President Bush took office in 2001, according to a university website.
One of those graduates is Monica Goodling , the former top aide to Attorney General Alberto Gonzales who is at the center of the storm over the firing of US attorneys. Goodling, who resigned on Friday, has become the face of Regent overnight -- and drawn a harsh spotlight to the administration's hiring of officials educated at smaller, conservative schools with sometimes marginal academic reputations.
Documents show that Goodling, who has asserted her Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination to avoid testifying before Congress, was one of a handful of officials overseeing the firings. She helped install Timothy Griffin , the Karl Rove aide and her former boss at the Republican National Committee, as a replacement US attorney in Arkansas.
Because Goodling graduated from Regent in 1999 and has scant prosecutorial experience, her qualifications to evaluate the performance of US attorneys have come under fire. Senator Sheldon Whitehouse, Democrat of Rhode Island, asked at a hearing: "Should we be concerned with the experience level of the people who are making these highly significant decisions?"
And across the political blogosphere, critics have held up Goodling, who declined to be interviewed, as a prime example of the Bush administration subordinating ability to politics in hiring decisions.
"It used to be that high-level DOJ jobs were generally reserved for the best of the legal profession," wrote a contributor to The New Republic website . ". . . That a recent graduate of one of the very worst (and sketchiest) law schools with virtually no relevant experience could ascend to this position is a sure sign that there is something seriously wrong at the DOJ."
The Regent law school was founded in 1986, when Oral Roberts University shut down its ailing law school and sent its library to Robertson's Bible-based college in Virginia. It was initially called "CBN University School of Law" after the televangelist's Christian Broadcasting Network, whose studios share the campus and which provided much of the funding for the law school. (The Coors Foundation is also a donor to the university.) The American Bar Association accredited Regent 's law school in 1996.
Not long ago, it was rare for Regent graduates to join the federal government. But in 2001, the Bush administration picked the dean of Regent's government school, Kay Coles James , to be the director of the Office of Personnel Management -- essentially the head of human resources for the executive branch. The doors of opportunity for government jobs were thrown open to Regent alumni.
"We've had great placement," said Jay Sekulow , who heads a non profit law firm based at Regent that files lawsuits aimed at lowering barriers between church and state. "We've had a lot of people in key positions."
Many of those who have Regent law degrees, including Goodling, joined the Department of Justice. Their path to employment was further eased in late 2002, when John Ashcroft , then attorney general, changed longstanding rules for hiring lawyers to fill vacancies in the career ranks.
Previously, veteran civil servants screened applicants and recommended whom to hire, usually picking top students from elite schools.
In a recent Regent law school newsletter, a 2004 graduate described being interviewed for a job as a trial attorney at the Justice Department's Civil Rights Division in October 2003. Asked to name the Supreme Court decision from the past 20 years with which he most disagreed, he cited Lawrence v. Texas, the ruling striking down a law against sodomy because it violated gay people's civil rights.
"When one of the interviewers agreed and said that decision in Lawrence was 'maddening,' I knew I correctly answered the question," wrote the Regent graduate . The administration hired him for the Civil Rights Division's housing section -- the only employment offer he received after graduation, he said.
The graduate from Regent -- which is ranked a "tier four" school by US News & World Report, the lowest score and essentially a tie for 136th place -- was not the only lawyer with modest credentials to be hired by the Civil Rights Division after the administration imposed greater political control over career hiring.
The changes resulted in a sometimes dramatic alteration to the profile of new hires beginning in 2003, as the Globe reported last year after obtaining resumes from 2001-2006 to three sections in the civil rights division. Conservative credentials rose, while prior experience in civil rights law and the average ranking of the law school attended by the applicant dropped.
As the dean of a lower-ranked law school that benefited from the Bush administration's hiring practices, Jeffrey Brauch of Regent made no apologies in a recent interview for training students to understand what the law is today, and also to understand how legal rules should be changed to better reflect "eternal principles of justice," from divorce laws to abortion rights.
"We anticipate that many of our graduates are going to go and be change agents in society," Brauch said.
Still, Brauch said, the recent criticism of the law school triggered by Goodling's involvement in the US attorney firings has missed the mark in one respect: the quality of the lawyers now being turned out by the school, he argued, is far better than its image.
Seven years ago, 60 percent of the class of 1999 -- Goodling's class -- failed the bar exam on the first attempt. (Goodling's performance was not available, though she is admitted to the bar in Virginia.) The dismal numbers prompted the school to overhaul its curriculum and tighten admissions standards.
It has also spent more heavily to recruit better-qualified law students. This year, it will spend $2.8 million on scholarships, a million more than what it was spending four years ago.
The makeover is working. The bar exam passage rate of Regent alumni , according to the Princeton Review, rose to 67 percent last year. Brauch said it is now up to 71 percent, and that half of the students admitted in the late 1990s would not be accepted today. The school has also recently won moot-court and negotiation competitions, beating out teams from top-ranked law schools.
Adding to Regent's prominence, its course on "Human Rights, Civil Liberties, and National Security" is co taught by one of its newest professors: Ashcroft.
Even a prominent critic of the school's mission of integrating the Bible with public policy vouches for Regent's improvements. Barry Lynn , the head of the liberal Americans United for the Separation of Church and State, said Regent is churning out an increasingly well-trained legal army for the conservative Christian movement.
"You can't underestimate the quality of a lot of the people that are there," said Lynn, who has guest-lectured at Regent and debated professors on its campus.
In light of Regent's rapid evolution, some current law students say it is frustrating to be judged in light of Regent alumni from the school's more troubled era -- including Goodling.
One third-year student, Chamie Riley , said she rejected the idea that any government official who invokes her Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination could be a good representative of Regent.
As Christians, she said, Regent students know "you should be morally upright. You should not be in a situation where you have to plead the Fifth.
This is how you enlist in the Army of God: First come the fireworks and the prayers, and then 4,000 kids scream, "We won't be silent anymore!" Then the kids drop to their knees, still but for the weeping and regrets of fifteen-year-olds. The lights in the Cleveland arena fade to blue, and a man on the stage whispers to them about sin and love and the Father-God. They rise, heartened; the crowd, en masse, swears off "harlots and adultery"; the twenty-one-year-old MC twitches taut a chain across the ass of her skintight red jeans and summons the followers to show off their best dance moves for God. "Gimme what you got!" she shouts. They dance -- hip-hop, tap, toe and pelvic thrusting. Then they're ready. They're about to accept "the mark of a warrior," explains Ron Luce, commander in chief of BattleCry, the most furious youth crusade since young sinners in the hands of an angry God flogged themselves with shame in eighteenth-century New England. Nearly three centuries later, these 4,000 teens are about to become "branded by God." It's like getting your head shaved when you join the Marines, Luce says, only the kids get to keep their hair. His assistants roll out a cowhide draped over a sawhorse, and Luce presses red-hot iron into the dead flesh, projecting a close-up of sizzling cow skin on giant movie screens above the stage.
"When you enlist in the military, there's a code of honor," Luce preaches, "same as being a follower of Christ." His Christian code requires a "wartime mentality": a "survival orientation" and a readiness to face "real enemies." The queers and communists, feminists and Muslims, to be sure, but also the entire American cultural apparatus of marketing and merchandising, the "techno-terrorists" of mass media, doing to the morality of a generation what Osama bin Laden did to the Twin Towers. "Just as the events of September 11th, 2001, permanently changed our perspective on the world," Luce writes, "so we ought to be awakened to the alarming influence of today's culture terrorists. They are wealthy, they are smart, and they are real."
Luce is forty-five, his brown hair floppy, his lips pouty. On the screens above the stage, his green eyes blink furiously. "The devil hates us," he exhorts, "and we gotta be ready to fight and not be these passive little lukewarm, namby-pamby, kum-ba-yah, thumb-sucking babies that call themselves Christians. Jesus? He got mad!" Luce considers most evangelicals too soft, too ready to pass off as piety their preference for a bland suburban lifestyle. He hates what he sees as the weakness of "accepting" Christ, of "trusting" the Lord. "I want an attacking church!" he shouts, his normally smooth tones raw and desperate and alarming. He isn't just looking for followers -- he wants "stalkers" who'll bring a criminal passion to their pursuit of godliness.
Cue Christian metal on the mammoth screens flanking the stage: "Frontline," a music video produced at Luce's Honor Academy in east Texas for the band Pillar. It opens with a broken guitar magically reassembling itself, a redemptive reversal of four decades of rock & roll nihilism. Then comes the gospel: "Everybody with your fist raised high/Let me hear your battle cry!" KEEP READING
I met Joe Murray a few years ago when I was guest hosting Mike Signorile's radio show while Mike was on vacation. I first saw Joe on O'Reilly, representing one of the lead, and most hateful and homophobic, religious right organizations, the American Family Association. Joe was one of AFA's lawyers, and often served as one of their spokesman. I don't know why, but in spite of Joe's defense of AFA, I had the sense that he might not be all that bad. So, I had him on Mike's show, we hit it off, and kept in touch.
Over the years, Joe's views began to mellow and shift. He became increasingly opposed to the war in Iraq, and increasingly understanding of the concerns of the gay community. He's still a conservative Catholic, and staunchly pro-life, but true to what I thought I saw inside Joe when we first met, he's a Christian who actually believes what he says. I remember reading once that the true believer poses the greatest threat to a totalitarian regime - he's the one to become first, and most, dispirited with the lies. That would be Joe. KEEP READING
If you're a Tibetan Buddhist or you're leaning that way, you may not know it, but you need Jesus. That's the thinking behind a series of Christian evangelical workshops -- including one later this month in Wheaton -- that will coincide with the Dalai Lama's trip to Chicago and other American cities this spring.
Interserve USA is putting on the workshops to teach Christians how to talk to Buddhists and, perhaps, to win converts.
"We welcome the Dalai Lama here, but we also want to have a chance to reach Tibetan Buddhists with the gospel," said Doug Van Bronkhorst, executive director of Interserve, an international missionary group based just outside of Philadelphia.
The online announcement for the upcoming workshop offers this enticing hook: "Tibetan Buddhism. It's ancient. It's complex. It's trendy. And its leader, the Dalai Lama, is visiting your city this spring."
But Van Bronkhorst said in a telephone interview Tuesday, "We are interested in people, not notches on a belt."
That's not quite how it sounds to the head of the Council of Religious Leaders of Metropolitan Chicago, which includes bishops and leaders from most of the largest Christian, Jewish and Muslim groups in the area.
"I'm speaking without knowing anything about this group," said the Rev. Stan Davis, acting director of the council. "But my sense is that their goal is to try to convert to Christianity. Our goal would be to enter into a dialogue with them, to find out about their faith in a two-way conversation."
'He's a very thoughtful man'
So does Van Bronkhorst think Christians can learn something from the Dalai Lama and his teachings?
"Oh, sure," Van Bronkhorst said. "He's a very thoughtful man. He has a lot of good things to say about peace in the world, and he's quite knowledgeable about other faiths, including the Christian faith."
Van Bronkhorst says his organization has no plans to send Christian evangelicals to greet the Dalai Lama during his American tour. "Of course that's up to [individuals] if they want to do that," Van Bronkhorst said.
The Rev. Patti Nakai, a part-time minister at Buddhist Temple of Chicago in Uptown, says Buddhists in general may not disagree with the Bible, just the evangelical spin.
"Most Buddhists would not have a problem with what is written in the gospel," said Nakai, who does not follow the particular practices of the Dalai Lama's sect. "It's what evangelical Christians say -- the idea that you have to be saved in a certain way or you're doomed to eternal damnation, that's what we have a problem with."
The Dalai Lama is due to travel to Chicago in early May, making his first public appearance in the city since 1999.
The spiritual leader is expected to stay on the 24th floor of the Palmer House Hilton in the presidential suite, where amenities include three bathrooms.
The head of a national, Texas-based pro-family group says a recent hostage drill at a New Jersey high school, which portrayed conservative Christians as terrorists, is reflective of a dangerous philosophy that has become prevalent in many parts of America, where it is having negative effects on education.
A local paper reports that a drill at Burlington Township High School in New Jersey involved police portraying mock gunmen, described as "members of a right-wing fundamentalist group called the 'New Crusaders' who don't believe in the separation of church and state." The fake gunmen were said to have been "seeking justice because the daughter of one [member] had been expelled for praying before class."
Historian and constitutional expert David Barton is president of WallBuilders, a national pro-family organization that distributes historical, legal, and statistical information and helps citizens become active in their local schools and communities. He says the stereotyping used in the high school's drill is an accurate indicator of what is being taught in public schools in the Northeast region of the country.
"It's been interesting to see the indoctrination that goes on," Barton notes, "where we've had in the same region, even federal courts up in that same area, say it's okay to start teaching second graders about homosexuality and homosexual 'marriage.'"
Also, the author and historian observes, the common thinking prevalent in this region is "that, by the way, we do not have to notify parents that we're going to indoctrinate kids because this is such an important societal value that all citizens need it." But in fact, he asserts, such liberal indoctrination of students in religious and moral areas of thought has been shown to lead to some undesirable outcomes.
"There is now a study that has been done by the University of Connecticut that shows that kids who have gone through that type of education actually know less academically than when they enter [school], and they're calling that phenomenon 'negative learning,'" Barton points out. "So that kind of indoctrination or philosophy is having an adverse effect academically," he says.
Nevertheless, the WallBuilders founder observes, liberal attitudes like the one that informs the Burlington Township High School drill are "fairly reflective of the philosophy that has really inculcated that part of the country. He says many schools, local officials, and members of Congress from the Northeast share a strong hostility toward traditional values.
The "separation of church and state" phrase invoked in the school hostage drill, Barton asserts, was rarely used by America's founding fathers and is currently construed by many liberals to mean almost exactly the opposite of what it originally meant, protecting churches from the government.
As he stood in the pulpit of the Hip-hop Sanctuary New Generation Church, all eyes were on him.
"They say we can't have hip-hop and church," said Flo, a lay preacher whose real name is Roosevelt Sargent. "I say this is real church. It's just presented by and for the hip-hop community, but don't get it wrong, this is a place of praise and worship."
In the dimly lighted church, a chorus of agreement rang out.
Murals of the Last Supper dangled from the wall. A deejay scratching bass-booming, wall-thumping music worked from the pulpit. Churchgoers wore do-rags and New Era fitted hats, and clutched worn Bibles.
With traditional churches seeking ways to revitalize interest in worship — particularly among the young — the distance between hip-hop and religion is closing.
And although some churches in mainly urban areas of the U.S. devote portions of services roughly every month to hip-hop congregations, this Baptist church in Moreno Valley is one of the first to present its worship services in hip-hop terms.
"What this indicates is the fact that the black church recognizes that hip-hop has more of an appeal than religion to black youth," said Todd Boyd, a professor of critical studies at USC and author of "The New H.N.I.C.: The Death of Civil Rights and the Reign of Hip Hop." "It's a case of them recognizing that their message is old and tired, and hip-hop gives them an opportunity to reach a new audience."
The movement has been applauded by some as a means to draw in those who otherwise show no interest in religion. It has also been called a fad and a shallow take on Christianity.
Felix Roger Jones III, pastor of All People Unity Baptist Church in Redlands, says he has concerns about hip-hop-oriented churches based in large part on the mainstream segment that glorifies violence, street gangs, lavish lifestyles and misogynic views.
"My ears are up as to what individuals who call it hip-hop church are about," he said. "It is a gimmick to an extent. Are you preaching from the word of God, are you disciplining people like Jesus did, or are you just trying to experiment with hip-hop?"
Flo, 33, says he has received plenty of e-mails and phone calls discounting his methodology. READ IT ALL