Showing posts with label evangelicalism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label evangelicalism. Show all posts

Don't Mess With the Neo-Macho Christians!

Art Remillard

When I think of “muscular Christianity,” I don’t immediately imagine the “body as temple” theologians, as Clifford Putney has called them. Yes, the Luther Gulicks gave the movement intellectual heft. And yes, it was Gulick who encouraged the Presbyterian minister James Naismith to invent basketball—or as I like to call it, “That Sport Lebron James Plays.” All good stuff, really. But when I think of muscular Christianity, my first image is Billy Sunday.

Theology meant little to the revivalist. Instead, Sunday was more concerned with putting some muscle on to Jesus. “Lord save us,” he prayed, “from off-handed, flabby-cheeked, brittle-boned, weak-kneed, thin-skinned, pliable, plastic, spineless, effeminate, sissified, three-carat Christianity.” In Sunday’s eyes, Jesus “was the greatest scrapper that ever lived.”

Sunday represented a side of muscular Christianity that was thoroughly fretting the so-called “feminization” of Christianity. With each call to fling a “fastball at the devil,” Sunday sought to pull the faithful into his manly zone of influence.

While baseball was a national obsession in Sunday's time, it's a cure for insomnia now. Indeed, for many young men walking in to my classroom, ultimate fighting has become the sport of choice. I don’t watch mixed-martial-arts (MMA), nor do I understand its appeal. But it is popular. And as you might expect, MMA is developing an evangelical edge.

Jason David Frank is a rising star in MMA circles who first gained fame starring in—wait for it—the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Frank, a sixth-degree black, is also co-owner of Jesus Didn’t Tap, a MMA merchandising company. In ultimate fighting, “tapping out” is lingo for forfeiting a fight. “Jesus is the only one that truly didn't tap,” Frank says while describing the company's name. “They say, ‘Oh, he was nailed to the cross so he couldn’t tap.’ Well, you can verbally tap, you can verbally cry, ‘I quit! I give up!’ That's not what he did. He got crucified for all our sins.”

So this incarnation of Billy Sunday might not swing a bat, but he does beat the snot out of people—in the name of Jesus. “When I'm in the cage, I'm full of rage, I'll ground, pound, kick you in the face, but it's all good ‘cause I’m in the right place. The power I get is driven from God, so don’t be mad, it’s just my job.”

Frank isn’t making money from this venture yet, and he might not. But the message seems to Christianize America’s “neo-macho” discourse. Journalist Richard Goldstein coined the term “neo-macho” to describe the sustained rebellion against feminism that only amplified after 9/11. Then, the eloquent Toby Keith united a nation, singing, “Justice will be served/And the battle will rage/This big dog will fight/When you rattle his cage/And you'll be sorry that you messed with The U.S. of A./‘Cause we'll put a boot in your ass/It’s the American way.”

Neo-macho man is certainly still with us. He tells us that our pickup truck isn't complete without a RAMBOX to “carry your tools” in. And for the evangelical version, he's amused when a preacher says something about Jesus being a “scrapper.” But he really likes it when that preacher punches someone in the face (instead of turning the other cheek).

Make the Devil Mad, Go to Bob Jones U.

Randall Stephens

I've been slogging through a chapter that deals with the evolution of the family values agenda, Christian psychology, and evangelical child rearing. It's always harder when one moves further up in time. I feel more secure in what I have to say when the characters I'm writing about have been dead for at least half a century. (You know, when I'm writing about old time Nazarene preacher "Uncle" Bud Robinson or the Earth-quaker Seth Cook Rees.)

I've spent some recent days reading through issues of Christian Century, Christianity Today, the Herald of Holiness, Christian Life, and Christian Herald. (Evangelicals loved to us words like "herald," "trumpet," "harbinger," and "advocate" in the titles of their mags. What about "liberator" or "dissenter"?) The time frame: 1966 to about 1975. Though this is really recent history I've also been struck by what a distant era this now seems like. Many of the concerns of writers and editors, it's safe to say, are deep in the dustbin of history now. At other times what would amount to a kind of baroque political incorrectness today was no big deal then. Take for example one of the most interesting headlines from one of these magazines (and it wasn't Christian Century): "Good News for Retards."

As I'm thumbing through yellowed copies--always better to look through print versions, I think--I've also been fascinated by the graphics, layout, and general look of these mags. Part Madmen Moderne, part Batman. Evangelicals, even those not so enthralled with Jesus People, quickly adopted the Haight, Op, and Pop Art wildness of the day. So, I include here a couple of my favorites. (Click images to enlarge.) The Bob Jones U. advert from 1968 is priceless! Pat Boone's take on the rapture might be worth more than a gospel car full of gold. Also, great use of passive voice: "Pat Boone's RAPTURE has been heralded as the greatest new religious record in 35 years." Heralded, see.

That reminds me of a recent news item from the English newspaper, not so affectionately called the Daily Torygraph by some: "Jesus will return by 2050, say 40pc of Americans." The paper picked up on a Pew, The Press/Smithsonian Magazine poll. Brits always like to be shocked by how unlike us they are. Few snakehandlers, supermalls, megachurches, kids with adult diabetes, or WWF wrestlers-turned-politicians across the pond. "41 per cent say Jesus Christ will return within the next 40 years while 46 per cent say this will definitely or probably not happen." 71% also think cancer will be cured by 2050. Are these two items related?

Pat Boone might have been a pop singer only a parent could love, but he was on to something with this rapture business!

Constructing Religion in the SC Governor's Race


By Michael J. Altman


This is a cross-post from my nameless other blog.

For me, religion will always be constructed in South Carolina.  As an undergraduate at the College of Charleston I became fascinated with the category or "religion" and began the long road toward a career studying it.  Now, I look back to the Palmetto state again and see the ways the current race for governor is reconstructing Christianity and religion.  Peter Hambly has written a great piece probing into the role Nikki Haley's religious identity is playing in the race.  In the wake of being slurred a "raghead" by state senator Jake Knotts, Haley has pushed into a primary runoff that many believe she will win.

Haley is a second generation Indian-American whose parents are Sikh, who self-identifies as a Christian, grew up in South Carolina, and even picked up a Southern accent along the way.  It's the tension between all of these layers of her identity that is beginning to draw curiosity and interest.  As Hambly notes, Haley attends both Methodist and Sikh services, especially with her parents and extended family.  This inter-religious practice is leaving some evangelicals in South Carolina uneasy:
Ray Popham, pastor of Oasis Church International in Aiken, said Haley's religion is a "big topic" among his congregants, who have posted notes about her religion on Facebook and have lately approached  him for advice about the governor's race.
 "She claims to be a Christian but also attends a Sikh temple and was married in a Sikh ceremony, so a lot of people can't figure how you can claim both," Popham told CNN. "I think she needs to be straight      up with people, if she is both. If she believes that you can be both, then she should say that up front."
Tony Beam, the interim pastor of Mount Creek Baptist church in Greenville, hosts a radio show called "Christian Worldview Today." He recently posed a question to his listeners: Is Nikki Haley being           honest about her faith?
Beam said several callers were not sure if Haley had completely abandoned her Sikh beliefs.
What immediately jumps out to me in the midst of this kerfuffle is that there are various understandings of what counts as religion and as Christianity flying around.  For most conservative evangelicals their religious identity centers around belief.  The belief in the death and resurrection of Jesus is what makes one a Christian.  Yes, there are other things that make one an evangelical Christian but they tend to center around correct belief.  It's all about orthodoxy.  But what about other religious cultures?  This focus on right belief--on an orthodox religion--doesn't translate across cultures.  The Sikhism of Nikki Haley's family is more about orthopraxy.  That is, it is about correct practice.  You do things because they are what you do.  To be Sikh is to do the things a Sikh does first and foremost.

Indian religions have sometimes struggled to adapt to an American religious landscape that emphasizes meaning and belief over ritual and practice.  As a white guy visiting Hindu temples in North Carolina I've often noticed how practitioners there felt the need to try and explain their religious practices to me, mostly through references to Christian symbols and meanings, when such explanations wouldn't happen in India.

I really have no interest in deciding whether or not Haley is a good Methodist or a good Sikh, or whether she's religious at all.  What these questions about Haley's religiosity point out, however, is the ways our public definitions of religion are generally shallow and Christian at bottom.  They are about what one believes first, and what one does only matters insofar as it can be grounded in doctrine or explanation.  The problem with focusing on right belief is that you can never be sure.  It is impossible to really know what someone believes and so there are always anxieties and questions of authenticity.  That's what lies behind much of this discussion of Haley's religion.  Is she authentic?  I don't know nor do I think that it is an important question.   I'm more interested in what gets lost in translation between Anglo-American Christian notions of orthodoxy and Indian forms of orthopraxy.