Sally Gets
Religion
by Andrew Walsh
The Washington Post
held the home court advantage when Pope Benedict XVI flew into Andrews Air
Force Base on April 16 to begin his first pastoral visit to the United
States.
So
it isn’t surprising that the newspaper assigned squads of reporters,
photographers, and editors to cover the story. Competitors did that too. And
plenty of others generated a comparable avalanche of news articles, columns,
editorials, blogs, slide shows, film clips, websites, on-line discussion
groups, and podcasts about the trip.
What set the Post’s coverage apart was a wised-up tone about religion
rarely encountered in American journalism since James Gordon Bennett’s
New York Herald made a practice of thumbing its nose at priests and
prophets in the middle of the 19th century.
This breezy attitude has been evident in the Post’s recent coverage
of many religion stories and shapes the newspaper’s ambitious on-line “On
Faith” section—a massive “conversation on religion” that represents the
newspaper world’s most vigorous recent effort to engage religion to combat
nearly apocalyptic declines in advertising revenue, readership, and staff
morale.
The
clearest example from the papal visit came in an April 17 set-up story by
religion reporter Michelle Boorstein that belied the gravitas of its
headline: “Vintage Vestments: The Philosophical Threads Woven in Papal
Garments.”
On
the morning of the pope’s first American mass, Boorstein began, “With all
the pundits analyzing Pope Benedict XVI’s views of U.S. foreign policy and
the woes of the Catholic Church, we know there are those of you out there
with a simple plea: Can someone please tell me when popes started wearing
lace and ermine collars?”
“A
long time ago, that’s when,” Boorstein answered her own question. “And
that’s the point.”
She
proceeded to frame her thumb-sucker as follows: “This may go over the head
of the typical viewer flipping through the channels today and watching
Benedict celebrate Mass at Nationals Park. But for those concerned about the
direction of the Roman Catholic Church, it’s stuff to obsess over. Does it
mean that Benedict wants to take the church back into the past, and if so,
in what ways? Or does it simply mean this cultured, piano-playing, German
theologian has an appreciation for the drama and theater of religion.”
To be
sure, a few other American journalists also grasped the possibility of
divining Benedict’s intentions by scrutinizing his vestment choices. Los
Angeles Times editorial writer Michael McGough published a column on
April 8 on the symbolic politics of vestments, writing learnedly about the
simpler, “neo-Gothic” style of vestments favored by Vatican II types and the
baroque “Roman” style that Benedict seems to be resurrecting. Freelance
pundit David Gibson chipped in with a similar piece for the Religion News
Service, noting that many Catholic liberals fear that “this old-fashioned
‘character’ also comes with an old-style authoritarianism.”
But
almost no one else adopted Boorstein’s snickering tone, or her insinuations.
For those in the know, there has always been a Catholic insider discourse
about the homoeroticism of the church’s lavish liturgical culture and the
men who love it. A generation ago, hierarchs like Cardinal Francis Spellman
of New York and Bishop Fulton Sheen were widely if quietly mocked as men who
queened around in especially florid lace-trimmed vestments and tailored
cassocks.
Boorstein gleaned this specialist’s knowledge by means of a wildly popular
blog, “Whispers from the Loggia,” identified by her as “a must-read for
hard-core Catholics who want to know every piece of gossip about the church
and which bishop is getting transferred where.”
Written by 20-something University of Pennsylvania graduate Rocco Palmo,
“Whispers” avidly described what the pope (B16 or Papa Ratzi in Palmo’s arch
style) was wearing at every public appearance, and Boorstein closed by
noting Palmo’s belief that Benedict’s vestment choices “would be watched by
Catholics intrigued by ceremonial beauty. By those who want to ‘understand
what is hidden.’”
Boorstein herself played peekaboo, scattering insinuating language and
juxtapositions throughout but never actually asserting that “what is hidden”
is a gay sensibility at the heart of Roman Catholic clerical culture. “Why
the pope is wearing fur and lace is a subject of some sensitivity,” she
remarked at one point. “You thought the cover of Vogue was influential,” at
another.
She
described the papal bureaucrat who oversees papal liturgical matters as “a
tall, elegant man who wears a black cassock with buttons from neck to the
floor,” a man who also sniffs to signify his disdain for liberals.
She
quoted a Roman shopkeeper describing Benedict as a vestment trendsetter,
completely unlike his (manly) predecessor, Pope John Paul II. “He would just
wear whatever was given to him,” Maria Ardovini said.
But
never in the long, coy riff did Boorstein make a serious attempt to depict
the Vatican as a den of hypocritical homosexuals. Nor did she deliver a
judgment about the central question she claimed to pose: Is Benedict winding
up to a major crackdown on post-Vatican II liberalism?
So
the story exemplified a “Stylification” of religion coverage, doing unto
religion what the Post’s Style section began to do to politics and
political culture in the 1970s. Indeed, it not only ran on the cover of
Style but also, tellingly, as the principal story of the day on the Post’s
website, complete with a brief video set in Rome and narrated by Boorstein.
Was
that so horrible? Puncturing pretention, including pontifical pretension, is
a legitimate venture for journalists. But did it provide a firm foundation
for coverage of a consequential journey by the world’s most important
religious leader? Perhaps not so much.
Why
go on at such length about a single dubious article? One reason is that
there’s a case to be made that the Post is emerging as American
journalism’s new leader in religion coverage. A Ford Foundation-sponsored
study called Religion in the Media: December 2006-October 2007, suggests as
much, reporting that as staff is cut ruthlessly as smaller metropolitan
newspapers, a handful of national players—specifically the Associated Press,
the New York Times, and the Post—are generating a larger share
of journalism about religious dimensions of the news. “The top producers of
religion-related news…have two or more religion reporters, allowing them to
pursue more in-depth coverage and a broader range of issues.”
The
report, the third in a series conducted for Ford since 2001 by Douglas Gould
and Company, argues that stories about religion in American politics and
public policy in the press have surged over that time, playing into the
Post’s natural strength. Indeed, the Post produced 86 percent
more religion stories in 2007 than it had in 2001, compared to increases of
13 percent for the New York Times and 22 percent for the
Associated Press.
By
contrast, the study found drops of 13 percent at the Chicago Tribune,
17 percent at the Boston Globe, 50 percent at the Atlanta
Journal-Constitution, 56 percent at the Dallas Morning News,
and 60 percent at the Philadelphia Inquirer—all standouts for quality
religion coverage in recent years. (The quantity of religion reporting at
the Los Angeles Times was found not to have changed at all.)
One
of the Post’s strengths is that many of its national and foreign
correspondents generate a lot of religion coverage, especially when
reporting on politics. In addition, unlike religion reporters at many
papers, the Post’s Boorstein, Jacqueline L. Salmon, and (until he
moved to the book beat) Alan Cooperman often get to write national stories.
But
even more than this volume of conventional journalism—including a lot of
columns about religion and politics—is the extensive space the Post
has begun to allocate to religion on its website. The newspaper divides its
online coverage of religion into two parts.
The
first and most conventional is accessed directly from the bottom half of the
Post’s home page under the title “Religion.” Once inside this
section, one finds a couple of the day’s national or international religion
stories, a set of news briefs, and a notes section that lists all sorts of
local and national religion events.
Each of these sub-sections is linked to a seemingly infinite archive of
other entries. On the upper right side of the homepage is a featured story,
often with a large collection of photos or videos. The June 11 story, for
example, is a profile by Post Saudi Arabia correspondent Faiza Saleh
Ambah of a Kuwaiti writer, entrepreneur, and intellectual who has just
published “the first Western-style comic book based on Islamic concepts.”
Directly below the story of the day is a box labeled “In Depth” that
contains links to another set of offerings, the most interesting of which is
opaquely called “Multimedia.” This contains dozens of “photos and panoramas
documenting religious events and trends around the world,” although mostly
in Metro Washington.
In
this long directory are often spectacular photo “galleries”—reports on the
religious lives and practices of, for example, Ethiopian Muslims in
Northwest Washington, Catholic converts celebrating their first Easter,
religious practices in a Northern Virginia correctional facility, the
religious lives of children worshiping at an Orthodox Christian cathedral on
Massachusetts Avenue, the Dalai Lama visiting Washington, Donald Wuerl being
installed as the city’s Catholic archbishop, and on and on.
Some of the files contain dozens of images or lengthy videos and the
cumulation makes a powerful statement about the vitality and variety of
religious life in Washington as well as about the city’s links to places,
peoples, and cultures all over the world. It’s also a fabulous solution to
the old journalistic bugaboo, the religious holiday story. These are very
skillful, often moving pieces of journalism.
And
then there is On Faith, which is accessed from the opinions tab at the top
of the paper’s home page. This section, a joint venture of the Post
and its sister publication Newsweek that debuted in November 2006,
delivers on its promise to offer opinion with the force and volume of a fire
hose.
The
pitch begins with a claim that religion “is the most pervasive and least
understood topic in global life.” On Faith thus “seeks to engage people in a
conversation about faith and its implications in a way that sheds light
rather than generates heat.”
How
so? By engaging “a remarkable panel of distinguished figures from the
academy, the faith traditions, and journalism.” The ringleaders, who smile
warmly on the On Faith banner, are Newsweek managing editor Jon
Meacham and Sally Quinn, long-time star of the Post’s style section.
The
central mechanism of On Faith is the posing of a provocative or at least
fruitful question to an immense panel of experts, who then fire away as they
choose in unconstrained cyberspace. The expert panel assembled by Meacham
and Quinn is little short of astounding. There’s Richard Land of the
Southern Baptist Convention and Jewish author Elie Wiesel, New Age spiritual
guide Deepak Chopra and former Iranian president Mohammad Khatani. Also a
remarkably, vastly disproportionately large, array of Episcopalians.
The
motley crew also includes the widest array of academic voices that I’ve ever
seen engaged in a single religious project, extending across the country
from Princeton’s Elaine Pagels to John Mark Reynolds of Biola University
(the former Bible Institute of Los Angeles). The scholars I know best (the
American religion crowd) are first rate: not only the once omnipresent
Martin Marty of the University of Chicago but also Steve Prothero of Boston
University, Kathleen Flake of Vanderbilt, Randall Balmer of Barnard College,
and Jonathan Sarna of Brandeis.
There is, to paraphrase that wise observer of American journalism A.J.
Liebling, a lot of agglutinated sapience here, but it’s used in a strange
way. Most of the panel members represent fairly fixed ideas or groups with
well established positions, and they respond pretty much the way you’d
expect to all the questions posed, be they Starhawk the neo-pagan, the head
of the American branch of Opus Dei, or the president of the Southern Baptist
Theological School in Louisville.
Sometime even predictable comments are highly entertaining, as when Tufts
University cognitive scientist Daniel Dennett unloaded on the question for
the week of June 9: “Do you believe that faith can affect your health or is
that a lot of new age nonsense?”
“Of
course faith can affect your health, as various studies have shown,” wrote
Dennett. So can faith in new age nonsense. So can faith in the Yankees or
the Red Sox. People cling to life to learn the outcome of the World Series,
after all. The larger problem with this week’s ON FAITH question is that it
is being asked at all. This question should not be seen as a matter of
personal conviction or opinion at all. People’s hunches, anecdotal
recollections, or personal convictions are of no more weight here than they
would be about the causes of global warming.”
And
so it went through 18 “expert” responses, among them Dennett’s fellow
secularist Susan Jacoby, several rabbis and liberal Protestant thinkers, and
evangelical man-about-town Chuck Colson.
Two
things are worth noting about this approach. First, it’s odd to empanel such
an array of characters as omnibus experts, as if they all had worthwhile
opinions about every conceivable religion question that might come up.* At the heart of old-school journalism is the conviction
that newspapers are obliged to find and quote genuine experts who have real
knowledge of the matter at hand. That seems to have gone by the wayside
on-line, where opinion is all.
Second, On Faith is not a conversation. A lot of programmatic statements are
set down, but there’s no back and forth. Everyone gets a free shot.
That hardly matters if the question of the week prompts singer Melissa
Etheridge and actress Rita Wilson to expatiate upon their family Easter
customs. (Etheridge is a post-Methodist, spiritually conscious person who
“believes in the Easter bunny.” Wilson is pretty much a party-line Greek
Orthodox believer.)
But
On Faith has also asked about how bad it is when presidents lie, which
unleashed Jimmy Carter to wax lengthily on how very bad it is, and how of
course he never did.
Attached to the central On Faith blog are many peripheral blogs. A cluster
of them emanate from Georgetown University, across town from the Post’s
newsroom. These include Jesuit Thomas Reese and theologian Chester Gillis
writing mostly about matters Catholic, John Esposito and Hadia Mubarak on
Islam and world affairs, and Katherine Marshall on faith and social justice.
The most prolific of the Georgetown crowd is Jewish studies professor
Jacques Berlinerblau, who blogs away on religion and the 2008 campaign.
Another frequent site blogger is the journalist Claire Hoffman, Mistress of
Stylification. Charged with commenting on “the actions that people, groups
and even nations take in the name of religion,” she assumes the posture that
seems to undergird the entire On Faith project.
“I
will draw insight and inspiration from both experts and people I know who
will serve as a regular cast of characters for this feature,” she explains.
“From religious scholars to my ten-year old friend Jack who’s wrestling with
ideas of the infinite, I want these people to give you their sense of what
it means to live under God.
“And who am I to do this? I grew up in a fringe religious movement in the
Midwest. I started practicing Transcendental Meditation when I was three
years old, and my religious background is a swampy-yet-exciting mix of
Hinduism, Buddhism, Catholicism, Protestantism and like eight other world
views. All of that has left me absolutely convinced that there is no answer.
But nothing makes me happier than thinking about how our beliefs about God
(or no God) transform and define our lives.”
This is the On Faith sensibility: eclectic, non-dogmatic, concerned about
extremism, but tolerant. It arises from the surprised and somewhat grudging
realization that religion plays so big a role in the world that those of us
who have been ignoring it need to bone up.
It
also arises, presumably, from the minds of Jon Meacham and Sally Quinn.
Meacham is in fact heard from very rarely on the site, but he describes
himself as a sacramental Christian, an Episcopalian whose mind wanders
during church services but who takes Christian life seriously. Hence, maybe,
the big platform accorded to Episcopal worthies.
Sally Quinn’s voice is much more in evidence. For the past few months, she’s
moved into video interviews with the likes of Richard Gere, Desmond Tutu,
Karen Armstrong, Ashley Judd, and the aforementioned Chopra. Her omnivorous
curiosity is to be appreciated, but her insights often do not penetrate very
far.
By
her own account in a first-anniversary posting last November 14, On Faith
developed out of an exchange between her and Meacham in which she declared
herself to be an atheist:
“He
said I should not define myself negatively, for one thing, and that if I was
really serious about not believing in God that I should at least have some
knowledge about what it was I didn’t believe in. At that point I was
completely illiterate on the subject, having been disdainful and
contemptuous of religion all of my life. But I took what he said to heart
and began to read some of the books he suggested.
“All I can say is that I was shocked and embarrassed at how little I knew,
and ultimately ashamed of myself for proclaiming myself an atheist when I
really didn’t know what I was talking about. I also began to realize that so
many people in this world who call themselves religious were just like me.
They not only knew nothing or little about their own faith but were just as
closed minded and hostile to other religions as I was to all religion.”
Being Sally Quinn, privileged Washington bigwig, she decided she would “take
a trip around the world to study the Great Faiths. It was a private tour and
we started in Rome. From there we went to Jerusalem in Israel and Bethlehem
in Palestine; Kyoto, Japan; Chengdu, China; Lhasa, Tibet; Varanasi, New
Delhi and Amritsar in India; Addis Ababa, Ethiopia; Cairo, Egypt; Armenia;
and Istanbul, Turkey.
“When I told my friend, ‘On Faith’ panelist and religion scholar Elaine
Pagels, about the trip, she asked how long I had spent. ‘Three weeks,’ I
replied. ‘But,’ she said in astonishment, ‘you can’t do that trip in less
than three years!’”
It’s a novelty to have a massive “religion” section launched by so
enthusiastic a journalistic entrepreneur. Is it intrinsically bad? The
skeptical, uninformed, curious, suspicious, irreverent Quinn viewpoint is
widely shared. And evidently there are many readers who appreciate the
bouncing around from opinion to opinion, with the editorial function reduced
to asking a question and then getting out of the way. There’s something for
everyone.
But it is troubling that in a world where journalism is experiencing a deep
crisis of legitimacy, the Washington Post has launched this vast
venture and endowed it with such a puny dose of journalistic ethos. There
are On Faith panelists who act like journalists: Gustav Niebuhr, late of the
New York Times (and Atlanta Journal-Constitution and Wall
Street Journal and Washington Post) and now of Syracuse
University; and Lisa Miller and Christopher Dickey of Newsweek, to
name three. But even they are not bringing news to the table.
Where are the neutral, well-informed voices who rigorously report the news
or comment upon it in a reasonably dispassionate (if not necessarily
unopinionated) way? Will the on-line media be little more than a vast op-ed-cum-letters-to-the-editor
venture, or will there be real, righteous religion reporting?
There are a few on-line efforts that do, to some extent, serve as exercises
in journalism, such as “The Revealer,” a page or two on the omnibus
religion site Beliefnet, and the religion blogs of the Dallas Morning
News and the Journal News of New York’s lower Hudson Valley—where
news is reported and where journalists comment as journalists on it.
At
the very least, it would be nice if On Faith were connected more directly to
the main product, the main sensibility. The Post’s straight
religion coverage is still solid, even though it sometimes yields to the
gravitational pull of the blogosphere.
If
all the investment in new platforms and new approaches to keeping newspapers
afloat don’t manage to keep that journalistic voice alive, there won’t be
any baby left, only bath water.
*As Marc Stern makes clear in his article in this issue,
there are times when it becomes clear that one of On Faith’s experts
really doesn’t know anything about the subject of the week.
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