Ideas

More Christian Colleges Will Close. Can They Finish Well?

Contributor

The “demographic cliff” will force schools to cut jobs or shut down—but how they do it matters.

Christianity Today August 29, 2024
Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: Getty

On June 25, 2024, Eastern Nazarene College announced that it will close at the end of the year. I specify the date because it matters: The news came well after faculty members had begun planning syllabi and courses for the fall semester. To say this was a bombshell for them and their students is an understatement. Six months’ notice might be long in other contexts, but in academia, it’s scandalously brief.

This story is not unique among Christian colleges, and it raises an increasingly pressing question: What does it look like to navigate closures ethically and compassionately? 

Christian institutions should be particularly committed to shutting down or downsizing in a way that treats faculty, staff, and students with love. Ending things well is an essential part of bearing witness and displaying good fruit for Christian colleges and universities, but, unfortunately, Eastern Nazarene’s behavior is far from exceptional. 

Last summer, for example, conflicting announcements were coming out of The King’s College in New York City. The school laid off a number of faculty and ultimately canceled all fall classes, yet its board refused to take the final step to closure. It’s easy to imagine why they hesitated, but this proved to be a heartbreaking approach that raised warrantless hopes and left scholars scrambling to find new work.

The last few years have also seen closures by Christian institutions including programs at Trinity International UniversityAlliance University (formerly Nyack College), Goddard College, and Clarks Summit University. Even longer is the list of institutions that haven’t closed yet have ruthlessly cut programs, often in the humanities, in a desperate attempt to reinvent themselves and remain afloat. Some of the institutions on both lists have been struggling for years, and, in many cases, the pandemic accelerated their troubles.

This is all depressing, especially if you are a professor or a student or one of the alumni of the affected institutions—or an ex-professor like me. CT’s Emily Belz recently highlighted the challenge involved in records keeping for alumni of shuttered institutions. But what we’re seeing now is only the beginning; we should expect much more of these closures over the decade to come. 

The single biggest reason for this is not unique to Christian schools. It’s the long-predicted “demographic cliff.” US birthrates dropped to an all-time low during the Great Recession and never bounced back. Next year, in 2025, we’ll be 18 years past that initial plunge, and our national birthrate remains below replacement level. 

All things being equal, this means that every year for the foreseeable future, the entering freshman class in colleges nationwide will decline. Harvard will probably be just fine. Tiny Christian colleges without a national reputation, not so much. Even Wheaton College, the “evangelical Harvard,” had to make adjustments for this reality in late 2022.

Going forward, nearly all Christian colleges will have to plan to shrink, merge, or close. These difficult choices will be unavoidable and necessary. But, to get back to the question I posed at the outset, how college leadership approaches these decisions matters, and how Christian college leadership does it should be recognizably shaped by Christian ethics.

The biggest part of that how is when. The boards and other leadership of schools headed for cuts and closure must give faculty and staff the earliest possible notice that job loss is a possibility. For faculty, I’d argue that one year’s advance notice is the minimum that compassion requires.

True, in many other workplaces, a two-week notice is customary and sufficient. But higher education works differently because of its quirky annual hiring cycle. With very few exceptions, academic jobs are posted in the fall and early spring. Hires are concluded by late spring, and new positions begin in August. That means faculty need at least a full school year to have any chance of continuing to work in their field—not to mention to place a house on the market or finish out a lease and make plans for required relocation without losing a lot of money in the process.

There’s an obvious counterargument that can be made to such early advance notice of potential closure: It will prompt faculty to leave early, and such a loss of talent in short order could only make things worse for the institution’s reputation and fate. Maybe keeping quiet would buy leadership time to work behind the scenes to resolve the crisis.

But this counterargument ignores how university budgets work. Colleges typically set their budgets at least two years in advance, which means leadership likely knows closure is coming a year or more ahead of time. At that point, a miracle in the form of a massive influx of major donations is possible, perhaps, but it’s unlikely. Keeping quiet almost certainly can’t save the school—and certainly can’t justify playing with people’s lives (or, at least, their livelihoods).

Faculty layoffs at Cornerstone University, also this past June, were reportedly even worse by this measure of timeliness and transparency: “Several former Cornerstone faculty told [Religion News Service] that all six of those who left were tenured and had already signed contracts for the forthcoming school year when they were informed in June that their roles were being ended—likely too late to be able to obtain a similar spot elsewhere.” Even one year out of academia can be career-ending in our dismal higher-ed job market, so those lost jobs may well be these faculty members’ last university roles.

This timing is also devastating for students. Sure, some will transfer to other colleges—there are plenty out there, in this climate, that are eager to welcome more students, and closing schools, including Eastern Nazarene, have arranged transfer agreements with comparable institutions. But in practice, just over half of students who go through college closures never re-enroll. They’re probably demoralized and in debt and definitely left without a degree.

College and program closures affect real people, disrupting their lives and plans, and the shorter the notice, the more extreme the disruption. Christian university boards and administrators owe their employees and students more honesty and love. 

In theory, of course, financial information about all private Christian schools is public per IRS rules. Institutional leadership might want to claim this absolves them from the charge of covering up dire financial straits. But the repeated shock that faculty and students express whenever they learn that their beloved institution is closing shows that they are not in the habit of looking up those forms on their own. Of course, why should they? That is not their duty. 

If institutions that need to re-evaluate their finances in the future need a model, Wheaton has showed what it looks like to communicate genuine compassion for faculty, staff, and students. Two years ago, the college announced “a reduction of approximately 10 percent of the academic division, which includes faculty and academic staff, over the next three years to avoid a projected financial deficit.” 

The striking part was the timing: “Ten faculty members, about 5 percent of the college’s 213 tenured, tenure-track faculty and permanent lecturers, were notified that their positions would end in June 2024 or June 2025.” The announcement was made on November 17, 2022, giving affected faculty notice of at least a year and a half.

That good practice needn’t be unusual. Considering how far ahead universities make budget projections, this kind of timeline is realistic for other institutions facing serious financial constraints. Furthermore, Wheaton’s case shows that such transparency need not result in a damaging loss of talent. 

As we say about parenting, so much of faith and ethics are “caught, not taught.” Christian witness in difficult situations matters immensely, and in an age when we so often hear of cruel and unethical leadership, Christian college leaders could stand apart. Compassion may not keep college doors open, but it will make a difference in the lives of God’s image-bearers. 

Nadya Williams is the author of Cultural Christians in the Early Church (Zondervan Academic, 2023) and the forthcoming Mothers, Children, and the Body Politic: Ancient Christianity and the Recovery of Human Dignity (IVP Academic, 2024).

Correction: An earlier version of this article mischaracterized Cornerstone University’s program changes. We regret the error.

Theology

Choose This (Labor) Day Whom You Will Serve

Exodus reminds us that our work can be exploitative, idolatrous, or kingdom oriented.

Christianity Today August 29, 2024
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Getty

Next week’s Labor Day holiday honors the contributions workers make to society and celebrates the power and goodness of human work. But the historical roots of the holiday—which is grounded in advocacy against horrific working conditions, including those faced by child laborers—reminds us that work can also be awful.

Recent research bears witness to both sides of this reality. Studies demonstrate how employment makes a significant contribution to well-being in ways that go beyond our paychecks. “The pain caused by the experience of unemployment is one of the best-documented findings in all happiness research,” yet one recent study argues that pain essentially disappears when a person finds a new job. Clearly, work is good for you!

Except when it isn’t. Job quality also has a very significant effect on a person’s sense of well-being. Bad work can make life miserable and contribute to poor physical and mental health, as several studies suggest workers who “have little opportunity to use their skills” or influence decisions have significantly higher risks of back pain and heart disease.

And just like those early promoters of Labor Day recognized, workers are often exploited or excluded. Job applications with “Black” names still get far fewer callbacks from potential employers than do the exact same applications with “white” names. American companies steal billions of dollars from workers annually through “wage theft.” Low-wage workers saw the purchasing power of their wages decline from 1979 to 2013, even as the market grew 706 percent and average CEO pay grew by over 1,000 percent.

Despite the massive impact work has on our lives, American Christians haven’t always been good at prioritizing work in our discipleship. Amy Sherman cites research that shows less than 10 percent of regular churchgoers remember their pastor preaching on work. The “faith and work” movement has done enormous good in trying to get the workplace back on the church’s discipleship agenda, while Christians passionate about justice have emphasized the need to confront economic injustice.

Nevertheless, we still often struggle to hold together both the powerful possibilities and deeply dysfunctional realities of work in our world. So, this Labor Day, perhaps it can help to revisit the Book of Exodus—which offers three glimpses of the promises and perils of work.

First, Exodus forces us to wrestle with the ugly reality of work that exploits. It all begins when Pharaoh becomes disturbed at how many Israelites he’s seeing around town. His response to this perceived problem offers us a masterclass in xenophobia and economic oppression. Pharaoh’s first step is to stir up fear of the Israelites’ otherness, essentially saying, “Since they’re not like us, they’re not really on our side!”:

[Pharaoh] said to his people, “The Israelite people are now larger in number and stronger than we are. Come on, let’s be smart and deal with them. Otherwise, they will only grow in number. And if war breaks out, they will join our enemies, fight against us, and then escape from the land.” (1:9–10, CEB)

By sowing seeds of anti-immigrant fear, Pharaoh paves the way for a particularly appealing solution. The Egyptians will simultaneously subdue and profit off the Israelites, forcing them to do hard labor and build “storage cities” for Pharaoh. Such backbreaking work expands Egypt’s ability to acquire more and more.

This exploitation provides the background for the most famous scenes in Exodus, when the Lord hears the groans of his oppressed people in their toil and comes down to confront Pharaoh. God demands that the Israelites be released from “working” for their Egyptian overlord so they can come and “work” for God (the Hebrew word translated as worship in passages like Ex. 4:23 is the Hebrew word for “work” or “service”).

And when Pharaoh refuses, God liberates his oppressed employees, dismantling Pharoah’s military and economic power in the process.

There’s no doubt Pharaoh managed to get a lot done during his time as an Israelite employer. But God hates unjust gain. In Exodus, the creator of the universe looks past the grandeur of Pharaoh’s Egypt to see a people nearly broken. The King of Kings hears the cries of oppressed workers, even over the endless noise of Pharaoh’s propaganda machine. The Lord, the maker of heaven and earth, takes his stand against Egypt’s ruler and his oppressive workplace.

God then takes those liberated people into the wilderness and offers them a beautiful vision for life as coworkers with him. In fact, God gives Israel’s leader, Moses, a blueprint for a major initiative that will require the whole community to pitch in. Shockingly, just as Moses is receiving instructions for this new effort, the Israelites decide to take on a project of their own.

Their disastrous decision offers us Exodus’s second window into the workplace: Sometimes, our work can be idolatrous.

While Moses is on the mountain with God, the people create the famous golden calf, an idol designed to represent the divine power that brought Israel up out of Egypt (32:4). Like all idols, the golden calf claimed some of the love, trust, and service the Israelites owed the Lord. Walter Moberly famously argued that this betrayal is the equivalent of cheating on your spouse on the first night of your honeymoon. But it’s also a workplace revolt; having been liberated from their oppressive Egyptian employers, the Israelites set up an idolatrous workshop of their own.

Creating the golden calf requires a great deal of sacrifice and collaboration. All the people “invest” in Golden Calf Enterprises by giving Aaron gold earrings as raw materials. While Exodus describes Aaron as “making” the golden calf, it seems reasonable that others pitched in as well. Their creativity and collaboration presumably created something beautiful, at least in the eyes of the craftspeople who built it together.

When the Lord smashed Egypt’s exploitative workplaces, the Israelites rejoiced. But in the wilderness, they discover this God will also destroy the idols they were so proud to create and so prone to worship. When he does so, those who clingto such shiny idols risk destruction as well (32:35).

But there’s a third act in Exodus’s workplace drama. In an act of outrageous grace, God forgives the people and rehires them for a special job: the building of the tabernacle. This beautiful tent serves as the Lord’s mobile home, allowing God to go on pilgrimage with his people (25:8).

The tabernacle is both God’s royal throne room and a Garden of Eden–inspired glimpse of creation as the Creator intended the world to be. Israel’s work on the tabernacle, then, facilitates God’s royal presence in their midst and offers the community a glimpse of God’s new creation.This tabernacle project is kingdom-oriented work. It creates a tangible glimpse of God’s generous presence, reign, and way in a broken world. Now, that’swork worth doing!

But they can’t do this work on their own. God gives Moses guidance for how to build the tabernacle (25:9). He also gives Spirit-inspired wisdom and skill to craftspeople like Bezalel and Oholiab so they can work creatively and collaboratively with the entire community (31:1–6). Together, they build this beautiful yet simple glimpse of heaven on earth (36:2–7). And then, in response to their Spirit-enabled work, the Lord takes up residence in the home his people have made for him.

These three types of work—exploitative, idolatrous, and kingdom-oriented—can help us think about workplace discipleship today.

Exodus reminds us that the workplace is often a place where people are exploited, not least when they manifest the kind of overwhelming imbalances of power or ethnic discrimination that we see in Exodus 1. Just as the Lord criticized and confronted exploitative labor back then, God’s people must do the same today. Disciples who serve the God of the Exodus must learn to sniff out and confront such injustice wherever it exists—whether in their own workplaces or through public advocacy and political action on behalf of workers more broadly.

But if we want to avoid exploitative work, we’re also going to have to ask some hard questions. We’ll need to listen carefully to those for whom work does not work—including marginalized migrant workers, the working poor, and those suffering from sexual harassment or racial discrimination. We may need to consider the power imbalances reflected in the compensation structures and organizational processes of our own workplaces.

And we would do well to learn about Christians who prophetically pursued economic justice in the workplace in the past. Such leaders include Father José María Arizmendiarrieta, who helped found Mondragon, one of the world’s largest and oldest worker-owner cooperatives, currently employing 60,000 people worldwide; Cesar Chavez, whose faith-based, nonviolent labor organizing sought increased wages and better working conditions for exploited California farmworkers; and Martin Luther King Jr., who was assassinated during his participation in the Memphis Sanitation Workers’ strike demanding fair wages and safe labor conditions.

Of course, the Book of Exodus reminds us that even if our work isn’t overtly exploitative, it may well be idolatrous. The idols we make out of our work promise to deliver us, but they cannot make good on their commitments. Discipleship must train us to identify the idol-making propensity of our work, not least by reminding us that God hates our idols.

Our liturgical practices need to force us to reflect on the myriad subtle ways our work and ourworkplace might regularly create little idols for our idol-factory hearts to cling to—especially when such idol production often goes hand in hand with practices that exploit, oppress, and marginalize others for unjust gain.

Finally, Exodus invites us to embrace kingdom-oriented work. When we work in alignment with God’s purposes, collaborate with others on projects that create glimpses of the world as God designed it to be, and draw upon Spirit-given skills that allow us to make the sorts of beautiful places, services, and, dare I say it, products that echo God’s purposes for creation, our work becomes an act of worship.

As Mark Glanville puts it in his recent book, “By loving what Christ loves and challenging what Christ challenges” in our “parents’ groups, cafés, trucks, homes, factories, hospitals, and advocacy groups,” we bear witness “to the restoring reign of Christ.” We make the on-earth-as-it-is-in-heaven reign of God that is on the way glimpsable to ourselves and to our neighbors.

Churches can and should embrace the kind of discipleship that prepares us to confront exploitative work, reject idolatrous work, and embrace kingdom-oriented work. Preaching on Exodus with an awareness of the book’s economic vision could be a good start!

Matthew Kaemingk and Cory B. Willson also argue that the way church services are structured can help workers bring their work-related praises, confessions, laments, requests, petitions, and gifts into corporate worship. They offer free liturgies, songs, and prayers to help you do just that at Worship for Workers. One of my favorites involves inviting congregants to decorate the Lord’s Supper table with visible signs of their own vocations.

Amy Sherman’s Kingdom Calling offers a vast array of stories and practices to help Christians discover how to exercise their “vocational power” justly and righteously through work. And Robby Holt, Brian Fikkert, and I wrote Practicing the King’s Economy in part to provide churches with discipleship tools and resources to help us bend our workplaces toward God’s kingdom. We include guidance for how Christians can create opportunities for those who most struggle to find jobs and flourish in them.

At an even simpler level, research shows that “supportive coworkers” and quality supervisors play an enormous role in the well-being of workers. How many Christians might discover an opportunity for kingdom work simply by giving more attention to the way they love their workplace neighbor?

Exodus doesn’t offer easy or straightforward answers to all our workplace questions. Yet it does invite us into a lifelong journey of discipleship in our work lives. There are some easy wins for churches that want to get started, but fully embracing Exodus’s invitations and challenges will require a lifetime of costly, time-consuming formation. But since most Christians spend most of their waking lives at work, what area of our discipleship could possibly be more pressing?

The present moment is ripe with opportunities for us to reckon with the powerful possibilities and painful realities of work. What better time to make a start than this Labor Day?

Michael J. Rhodes is an Old Testament lecturer at Carey Baptist College, the author of Just Discipleship: Biblical Justice in an Unjust World, and coauthor of Practicing the King’s Economy.

Culture

What to Watch for in ‘Rings of Power’ Season 2

The sumptuous Tolkien prequel has returned. Here’s what a few CT writers noticed.

Charlie Vickers as Annatar and Charles Edwards as Celebrimbor in Rings of Power.

Christianity Today August 29, 2024
Ben Rothstein / Prime Video

The first episodes of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, season 2, are out August 29 on Amazon Prime. Christianity Today asked three writers to screen the season in advance and identify a theme for fans to keep in mind as they watch.

Evil in disguise

“Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light,” warns the apostle Paul (2 Cor. 11:14). So too in J. R. R. Tolkien’s mythology does the dark lord Sauron sometimes appear in “fair form.” In the guise of nobility, beauty, and goodness, he deceives and manipulates what he cannot win by conquest.

We never saw Sauron’s “fair form” in Peter Jackson’s justly beloved Lord of the Rings film trilogy. And in season 1 of Amazon’s prequel series, The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (ROP), we saw a Sauron who was more conflicted and confused than lovely. That season’s gimmicky reveal—the hapless cockney Southlander Halbrand was, gasp, Sauron all along!—was a cheap payoff for eight hours of otherwise impressive world-building and plotting.

Season 2 of Rings of Power is far stronger than season 1. It ramps everything up—including the action, violence, and gore (parental caution advised), as Amazon goes after the Game of Thrones audience. Happily, the show has fixed some of its pacing issues; though it occasionally struggles to juggle five locations and subplots, it also successfully stitches together the mass of jumbled, at times inconsistent narrative threads that Tolkien left behind. If nothing else, ROP is a sumptuous show, with lavish sets, costumes, and effects.

But the strongest compliment I can pay to Rings of Power season 2 is that its portrayal of Sauron, excellently done by Charlie Vickers, is unnervingly persuasive—fully embracing and making use of Sauron as a deceitful angel of light. Sauron, disguised as an emissary of the gods, worms his way into the confidence of elven master smith Celebrimbor and dwarven king Durin III with a light touch. He suggests and questions, and rarely demands; he plants ideas and lets them germinate; he flatters and compliments; he relentlessly appeals to pride, vanity, and ambition.

At one point, Sauron pushes too hard, and Celebrimbor calls him out on his tricks. The ROP writers don’t condescend to their characters; they don’t rely on the cheap trick of making the characters too dumb to figure out what’s going on until it’s time for the climax.

Instead, Celebrimbor both gradually succumbs to Sauron and is increasingly self-aware of what is happening, yet is still unable to stop it. This is the most affecting plot thread of the season, given real weight with Charles Edwards’ Celebrimbor. Tragically, it seems to resonate with the spiritual truths Tolkien likely had in mind—not only of Satan’s proclivity for disguise but for the powerlessness of our flesh to resist him without divine aid.

Paul D. Miller is a professor of the practice of international affairs at Georgetown University and a research fellow with the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission.

Present presence

Our normal relationship to time is full of unknowns. Despite our best efforts, we cannot predict the future.

But as a prequel, Rings of Power temporarily transforms us into seers, offering us the “before” of the story so we might better identify the “after.” For a few tantalizing hours, the viewer is omniscient. Even as we see something “new”—backstories we didn’t know before—we’re reveling in affectionate nostalgia for something old: The familiar books and films that ROP both precedes (in narrative time) and follows (in “real-world” time). Janus-faced, we look to both the future and the past.

J. R. R. Tolkien, meanwhile, seemed to endorse a different view of time than what’s offered by our frantic 21st-century schedules and hour-long episodes of television: a particular emphasis on the present, on what’s now rather than what’s next. The most important moments in the Lord of the Rings unfold gradually along arduous journeys, during joyous feasts, and in quiet conversations between friends. Tolkien’s wisest characters—Elrond, Tom Bombadil, and Gandalf—fully inhabit the present; they realize that struggle is essential, that renewal cannot be rushed.

“Time is the process of creation, and things of space are results of creation,” wrote rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. Tolkien’s books are about that process—the slow work of character development and world-building and good triumphing over evil.

But in this second season of The Rings of Power, even the sagest elves (Galadriel and Elrond, for instance) are caught up in urgency and haste. The journey is rushed.

Perhaps this breathlessness can be instructive for the viewer. These days, most of us are challenged by “the present.” Like the prequel, we are always looking backward at what’s been and forward at what’s to come. How do we attend simply to what is?

Some moments of ROP allow for such contemplation: a defiant craftsman composed in the face of evil, the quiet love of a brave captain. Here, the frenzied storytelling finally finds its flow. In such moments, the viewer is reminded that presence is all we really ever have. Fearful foretelling is the realm of Saruman and Denethor. We, as Christians, are called to “be still, and know” that the Lord is God (Ps. 46:10). The present is the single moment in which we can both delight in the light and defy the darkness—in and through and by the grace of God.

Gracy Olmstead is a journalist whose writing has appeared in The American Conservative, The Week, The New York Times, and The Washington Post, and is the author of Uprooted: Recovering the Legacy of the Places We’ve Left Behind.

Genuine friendship

Unlikely friendships abound in season 2 of Rings of Power

Nori the Harfoot (Markella Kavenagh) and The Stranger (Daniel Weyman) journey together to the desert region of Middle-earth’s Rhûn, hoping to find answers about The Stranger’s identity.

Sauron establishes a bond with Celebrimbor, telling the elven smith, “There is no place for half-truths between those who have worked so close as you and I.”

But as Sauron’s dark power spreads, relationships fracture. Hearts grow corruptible. Convictions turn shaky.

In short: Friendship in ROP is wielded as a weapon. Words are used to cajole and manipulate; actions only serve to further selfish interests.

In modern-day parlance, we would call such friendships “toxic”—one person tries to exert control over another, exulting in their influence. Sauron engages in deceit and sows seeds of doubt to make Celebrimbor, and everyone else in Eregion, bend to his will.

Yet, however powerful Sauron appears to be, he’s also pitiful, someone who will never be able to enjoy the freedom that comes in relationship. Grasping for power and dominion over Middle-earth, he is the biggest loser when it comes to making friends.

Friendship, after all, is a gift. It is to be held lightly, woven in faith and trust that one is here for the other’s good, and vice versa. It does not fashion another in our own likeness, to yield to our wants and needs wherever and whenever we demand.

Nori and The Stranger’s friendship exemplifies this beautifully and serves as a foil to Sauron and Celebrimbor. When The Stranger gets separated from Nori, he encounters the enigmatic Tom Bombadil, who tells him that he has to choose between finding his friend and seeking his destiny.

It’s an impossible choice, perhaps, but The Stranger decides that friendship is worth more than self-discovery.

“We’re very different creatures, Nori, when all is said and done,” says The Stranger after he rescues Nori.

 “Not so different at all, if you ask me,” Nori replies.

Scripture tells us that genuine Christian friendships are founded on mutuality. As the apostle Paul writes to his friends in Rome: “I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong—that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith” (Rom. 1:11–12).

Nori and The Stranger seek each other’s flourishing. And their unlikely friendship also involves some measure of risk, forged out of a willingness to learn about another’s culture and way of life. It is not transactional or quid pro quo.

Rings of Power’s latest season challenges us to redraw the bounds of our circles, to build relationships with people who might look or sound quite different from us. As we cultivate friendships with gentle wisdom and fierce tenacity, we make room for the surprising and edifying work of the Spirit.

Isabel Ong is associate Asia editor for Christianity Today.

Theology

When to Respond to Slander (and When to Ignore It)

Correcting the record or remaining silent both involve the same thing: seeking to know Jesus.

Christianity Today August 28, 2024
Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: Getty

This piece was adapted from Russell Moore’s newsletter. Subscribe here.

Not long ago, a woman told me about a conflict she was having with a fellow member of her church. Conflict might be the wrong word, since it seemed mostly one-sided. The woman said that the other church member was telling falsehoods about her in hallway conversations and social media groups.

“You seem to mostly ignore it when people lie about you,” the woman said to me. “Is that because it would be wrong for me to defend myself? Should I just ignore what they say about me?”

Part of the problem with answering this question is that we often think wrongly about what it means to “ignore.” Ignoring something sounds, by definition, passive—it is, literally, not to know and thus not to respond. And yet, ignorance—rightly defined—is active. In order to ignore well, we have to know well. That’s perhaps the biggest obstacle to making the decision to ignore or to engage.

Responding to slander about oneself is biblically complicated in a way that some other questions—say, “Should I have an affair?” or “Should I embezzle from my company?” —are not. “Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest you be like him yourself,” the Bible says in one verse (Prov. 26:4, ESV throughout). And then the very next verse says, “Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own eyes.” This isn’t a contradiction. There are times when responding is the right thing to do, and times when it’s the wrong thing.

Morality is not the compilation of data but conformity to a Person. The example of Jesus is complicated too because, as the wisdom of God, Jesus could see perfectly what we see imperfectly—which situations call for a Proverbs 26:4 ignoring and which call for a Proverbs 26:5 engaging.

When it comes to slander about himself, Jesus sometimes directly contradicted untruth (John 5:19–46). Sometimes, he responded not with a defense of himself but by asking questions or telling stories that revealed the underlying motives (Luke 14:1–6). Quite often, he simply ignored what was said about him altogether (Mark 11:33). At least once, he even ridiculed the slander (Luke 7:28–34).

In all those contexts, though, Jesus modeled what it means to avoid the warning of Proverbs, that is, to avoid sinning in response to sins against us. He said: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well” (Matt. 5:38–40).

The apostle Peter commands us to be less concerned about what people say about us than about what we actually are. “If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you,” he wrote. “But let none of you suffer as a murder or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler” (1 Pet. 4:14–15).

That requires a knowing of your own vulnerabilities. My church-slandered conversation partner noted that I usually ignore untrue things said about me, but she probably overestimated how much I even know about them. I don’t search my name or look at tagged replies from people I don’t follow on social media. That’s not because I think people are wrong to do that but because I know myself; if I paid attention to that stuff, I would be distracted. I couldn’t do what God has called me to do.

The woman I was talking to might be different. But if you have a tendency for quarrelsomeness or an oversensitivity to other people’s approval, you might be best served not just by ignoring slander but by trying to avoid, so much as is possible with you, knowing about it altogether. If you can’t respond to slander without retaliation or revenge, don’t do it.

This also requires knowing the situation. Jesus treated people who were genuinely confused by misinformation (John 1:45–51) differently from those who were seeking to, as Matthew put it, “entangle him in his words” (Matt. 22:15–22). Many of the people I know who exert time and energy “correcting the record” about themselves often don’t recognize the reasons behind why the lies are told about them.

Sometimes it’s genuine misinformation—in which case, confronting the lie with the truth might be the right thing to do. In many cases, though, the problem is not that the truth isn’t available but rather that it isn’t useful. In such cases, people are trying to build a “platform” for themselves by making inflammatory statements about someone other people in their world know. To respond to that makes as much sense as Jodie Foster responding to John Hinckley shooting a president to get her attention.

There are sometimes quite different principles involved in defending others from slander than in defending oneself. Joseph forgiving his brothers for their injustice (Gen. 50:19–21) is commendable. If he had waved away their mistreatment of others, though, that would have been unjust. Generally speaking, the principles of Proverbs 27:2—“Let another praise you, and not your own mouth; a stranger, and not your own lips”—often can be applied to the question of responding to lies about oneself.

When someone’s lying about you, lean in the direction of ignoring it, unless obviously not applicable. When it comes to lies about someone else, do the reverse. To silently pass by while someone tells what you know to be lies about your neighbor is to get on the wrong side of Jesus’ parable of the beaten man and the Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37). Jesus waved off a lot of slander about himself, but he didn’t stand for it when it was directed toward, for instance, the man he healed from blindness (John 9:1–5).

The first-century church at Smyrna suffered slander from all directions: Their home religious community disowned them. The Roman Empire labeled them as seditious and erosive of national character. Jesus told them he knew about the slander, that it would get worse, but that what it means to overcome is a matter of his judgment seat, not the judgment of everyone else (Rev. 2:8–11).

The woman who asked me how—or whether—to respond to lies about her needs to know, above all, that Jesus knows the difference between the truth and lies; he is the difference between truth and lies. When deciding whether to correct the record or to remain silent and entrust yourself to God, seek to know yourself and your situation—but, most of all, seek to know him.

Sometimes a response is right. But more often than you might think, ignorance is blessed.

Russell Moore is the editor in chief at Christianity Today and leads its Public Theology Project.

Culture

It Is Not Best for Man to Eat Alone

We’re all having meals by ourselves more often. But in the Christian life, food and community are inextricably intertwined.

Supper at Emmaus by Matthias Stom

Christianity Today August 27, 2024
WikiMedia Commons

When the waiter brought out my long-awaited high tea that day, I didn’t expect I’d still be grieving it decades later.

I was 21 and enjoying my first “real” spring break during a debt-building week away in London. After years of devouring chaste romances set in England, I’d learned that Harrods was the best place to experience the glories of scones, clotted cream, and tiny sandwiches, all served on tiers of gleaming china and, of course, washed down with hot tea. So on my inaugural trip across the sea, it seemed only right to indulge my credit card’s largesse on a high tea at Harrods. Alone.

As I looked around the room that day, I knew I’d made a grave mistake. Not even the tender scones and decadent clotted cream could balance the bitter taste of regret. They worsened it. With each new delight, I felt more keenly the lack of someone to share my enjoyment with.

When I was doing fieldwork for my book on singleness, someone told me it might be worse to eat alone than sleep alone. Eating alone is certainly a problem for people who live by themselves. But with 21st-century work schedules, sports practices, and other structural realities, even those with seemingly “built-in” meal companions in spouses or children or roommates often dine solo too. When we do share supper, allergies and dietary restrictions can create other divides. This shift has even changed apartment and home designs as dining rooms fall out of fashion.

Sometimes, the solitude of a meal alone feels welcome. Perhaps an introvert drained by a day of meetings wants nothing more than time alone to decompress. And for some harried parents, a quiet cup of coffee—a reward for getting up before the rest of the household—might feel like a rare and precious solace.

But for Christians, the question of how and with whom we eat involves more than our own preferences. What is God’s design for our meals?

Scripture includes a surprising number of stories featuring food. To prepare for liberation from slavery, God has the Israelites eat a special Passover meal of lamb, unleavened bread, and bitter herbs that observant Jews continue to recreate annually to this day. Jesus later reinterpreted this meal in the bread and wine of the Eucharist.

Jesus used food to make connections with outcasts and sinners. He made a meal to mend the rift caused by Peter’s betrayal, frying fish for breakfast on the beach. And it was only at the table that an Emmaus-bound duo finally recognized him.

Food also played a pivotal role in helping the early church grasp the extent of God’s vision for his people. As Willie James Jennings writes in his commentary on Acts, “to eat the animals that were associated with a people was to move into their space of living.”

This gives great significance to Peter’s thrice-repeated vision calling him to eat previously forbidden food. Jennings writes,

Peter is not being asked to possess as much as he is being asked to enter in, become through eating a part of something that he did not imagine himself a part of before the eating. This new eating grows out of another invitation to eat, one offered by his savior and friend: “This is my body, which is given for you.”

Not every church embodies a diversity that fully reflects the body of Christ. But to the extent we do, food provides one of the best ways to connect through our shared identity as God’s children. We all need the Eucharist’s embodied reminder of grace. Other shared meals, like post-service potlucks or coffee hours, point to both our equal dependence on God for life and the feast that awaits us in heaven.

And whether feeding the hungry and marginalized or organizing meals for the sick and weary, we acknowledge two truths: Our lives are interconnected, and what we do for the “least” in our midst touches Jesus himself. As the late Orthodox bishop David Mahaffey told me, “To me, God has given us food as a way of communion with him.”

What does all this mean for our many meals alone? Do they inherently fall short of God’s good design for sustenance?

One of my favorite things about the Bible is how much of life it contains: all kinds of people, all kinds of situations.

In the Book of 1 Kings, God sends Elijah east to Cherith, a presumably remote place where he’s instructed to hide until further notice. The author gives few details about this season, apart from the miracle of sustenance God provides against a backdrop of growing famine. Ravens, better known for taking food, bear the prophet’s meals.

Perhaps because of the birds, I’d never thought about the meals themselves as lonely. Yet Elijah must have spent day after day eating without human company. (For that matter, Adam, too would have eaten “alone” until God created Eve.)

I want to be careful not to fill in details the biblical authors did not provide. But a few things strike me about these men’s solitary meals. First, they involve an implied fellowship with God. Meals aside, the little we know of Adam and Elijah’s solitary seasons suggests a strong rapport with the Lord. Surely that extended to their meals too. In fact, perhaps they didn’t really feel alone because of his presence.

Second, both received direct provision from God—water and the ravens’ food for Elijah, fruit for Adam. Under these circumstances, I would hope both men regularly offered thanks. How often and well do we do this? Scarfing down a piece of toast while we drive or eating leftovers on the couch, it’s all too easy to dive in with scarcely a word of acknowledgment.

Lastly, it strikes me that both men ate alone during seasons of preparation. As Priscilla Shirer draws out in her study of Elijah, God used the time at Cherith to prepare Elijah for unexpected communion at Zarephath and eventual confrontation with Ahab. Adam’s meals alone occurred during a time of learning about the work God had given him and slowly coming to realize his need for human companionship. In fact, they occurred before the Fall!

So maybe our meals alone can still honor God’s design. How? Maybe we slow down to notice the sights, sounds, scents, sensations, and tastes of eating. (This can also help with anxiety and stress.) Instead of distracting ourselves with YouTube or social media, we can acknowledge and welcome God’s presence with us. And we can give sincere thanks for those who made and delivered and planted and cultivated and harvested, as well as the One who provided the rain.

And also: We should try to eat with others as often as possible.

I write this as someone who now eats many meals alone, sitting at my gate-leg dining table in the chair that faces the window. Thanks to one book interview with a Norwegian man who sometimes paid bills while he ate—and hated this—I try hard to avoid doing work during dinner. On better nights, I eat while reading or listening to a book. On worse nights, I scroll on my phone.

Not long ago, I shared a late-night bite with a friend who’d come by to get something. We almost always eat something together during visits, often my latest homemade soup. A few bites into that night’s bowl, he asked, “How was your day?”

After years of living in community, I’m now several months into only the second place I’ve rented alone in some 20 years. At my friend’s simple question, my shoulders dropped and tension melted away. Suddenly I was back at the family dinner table of my junior high and high school years.

On weekdays, we rarely ate any other meal with my dad. So he used our dinners to help all six of us connect. One by one, he went around to each of us as we shared “high” and “low” points from our day. This was one of the most emotionally formative rituals of my upbringing. It had a structured cleanup ritual (a nightly chore rotation, carefully tracked on the calendar), and clear boundaries for limited dissent from the family rules (we each got one dish from Mom’s recipe rotation that we didn’t have to eat).

Through our Friday night dinners of homemade hamburgers and French fries, we learned to celebrate the ordinary. Sometimes, our parents even splurged on a two-liter bottle of pop, though I wouldn’t make the connection to work weeks or paychecks until I became an adult myself.

Hospitality sacralizes the everyday. While apps help some find restaurant meal partners, eating at home has an extra vulnerability that deepens connections and accommodates more varied budgets. I love that another friend who lives nearby has started texting me when he’s made too many potatoes or too much chili (often leading to an impromptu meal). Other friends know they might have to clear a dining table chair or that I might serve leftovers. After months of such visits, one married friend finally invited me over for lunch at her home—our first meal there in a yearslong friendship.

Sharing food can take vulnerability and flexibility. But once you get past the initial risk or discomfort, deeper connection usually follows, and loneliness recedes.

Last summer, I briefly lived with a couple who often didn’t connect until the end of their day. Before he left for his bartending job, the husband prepped dinner in the Instant Pot and left it for his wife to eat when she came home from her work as a hairdresser. One night, he made chili; another night, fish chowder. Even when he got home late, even if she’d already eaten what he’d prepared, they often debriefed their days over additional shared food or drink.

When I moved in with the couple, they were eager to embrace communal living, but doubtful we could eat together. I cooked very differently from them, and they both had several allergies. But they often loved how my cooking smelled, and so I made a list of their restrictions so I could accommodate them. As we all settled into living together, I tried to find recipes we could all eat, or made small tweaks that worked with their diet. We ate stuffed peppers with cabbage leaves; for his birthday, I made my family’s eggless applesauce cake with gluten-free flour. By the end of my four months there, they were trying to include me in their detailed weekly meal plans.

It took compromise, for all of us. But looking back, it seems like all the times we three felt most connected involved either food or the kitchen or both. Whether any of us acknowledge it or not, God’s plan for food seems to keep reasserting itself. Perhaps that’s why Jesus most often depicted heavenly life as a massive feast, a theme John later takes up with his allusions to the marriage supper of the Lamb.

Revelation ends with the promise of food restored, after all. In its final chapter, the tree of life, whose fruit caused God to banish humans from Eden, reappears (Gen. 3:22, Rev. 22:2). Only once God resumes sharing that food with humans does the Bible declare the curse no more, and God and humans so close that “they will see his face.”

Anna Broadway is the author of Solo Planet: How Singles Help the Church Recover Our Calling and Sexless in the City: A Memoir of Reluctant Chastity.

Books
Review

David Bentley Hart’s Brain-Breaking Argument for the Supremacy of the Mind

The theologian’s latest book, though rhetorically forbidding, yields brilliant insights on the relationship between material and spiritual things.

Christianity Today August 27, 2024
Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Pexels / Wikimedia Commons

There is a beautiful garden in perfect bloom, existing somewhere outside of time and place. There, four pagan gods have gathered together for an intense, six-day Platonic symposium about the nature of the mind and the spiritual world (after which they will rest on the seventh day).

This in a nutshell is the setting and the organizational premise, old and new all at once, of David Bentley Hart’s new book, All Things Are Full of Gods: The Mysteries of Mind and Life. Hart, an Eastern Orthodox theologian, explores the philosophy and theology of the mind in a manner that delights, bewilders, confuses, and alarms—sometimes separately and sometimes all at once.

The Archaic Greek philosopher Thales once said, “All things are full of gods.” For Thales, this notion was perfectly compatible with his scientific inquiry into astronomy, mathematics, and more.

The nod to Thales in the book’s title is appropriate. As Hart notes in his introduction in a sentence whose intimidatingly elaborate erudition—and sheer length—captures the style of his prose throughout:

Before the advent and eventual triumph of the mechanical philosophy in early modernity, and then the gradual but more or less total triumph of a materialist metaphysics of nature (even among those who believe in a realm beyond the merely physical), most developed philosophies, East and West alike, presumed that mind or something mindlike, transcendent or immanent or both, was the more original truth of things, pervading, sustaining, and giving existence to all that is.

As Hart recognizes, embracing the supremacy of the mind in all its mysterious glory doesn’t necessarily entail any new theological or philosophical discoveries. Instead, it involves dusting off and recovering something very old—pre-Christian, even. The idea of miracles, the acceptance of supernatural realities, and the need for mediators between gods and normal humans have all been features of human life and belief for millennia.

The Realest Reality

Michael Horton’s new book, Shaman and Sage, which I coincidentally read right before picking up Hart’s volume, is a good companion piece here, as it confirms the longstanding human bend toward the spiritual (but not necessarily religious). Indeed, the extreme contemporary skeptics, so quick to dismiss the reality of anything intangible or invisible, belong squarely in the historical minority. For much of human existence, people were more Thales than Richard Dawkins—seeing no conflict between the world of science and the mysterious unseen all around.

The spiritual state, then, seems to occur more or less naturally. By the end of Hart’s book, nevertheless, I felt that I could best relate to Hephaestus, the pagan metalsmith god Hart casts as the supporter of the material world. Hephaestus’s main conversationalist is Psyche, the goddess of the soul—that is, indeed, what her name literally means. (Also present at Hart’s imagined dialogue but less outspoken are Eros, the god of love and Psyche’s husband, and Hermes, the messenger god.)

It is Psyche who drives Hart’s main argument throughout this volume—that the spiritual and invisible world is true, and it is much more real than the physical and tangible world so ardently championed by modern philosophies. The argument for the latter also usually goes hand in hand with the exclusion of the divine and supernatural. Accordingly, Psyche’s journey to prove the reality of the life of the mind is inextricably connected with her axiom that the divine is everywhere.

As Hart says,

a truly scrupulous phenomenology of mental agency discloses an absolute engagement of the mind in an infinite act of knowing that is nothing less than the source and end of all three of these realities [i.e., life, mind, and language], and indeed of all things; or, to say this more simply, all acts of the mind are participations in the mind of God.

But when I say that I could best relate to Hephaestus by the book’s end, I do not mean that I am wholly persuaded by his materialist stance—that has never fully appealed to me. Rather, I find that, like him, I am lost in all the arguments Psyche (or, rather, Hart) presents. To say that this book broke my brain would be an understatement.

In many ways, All Things Are Full of Gods—brain-breaking tendencies included—is classic Hart. Stunningly twisting Ciceronian sentences, of the sort I have quoted in this review, might span an entire paragraph, enticing the reader with the beauty of their phrasing. Still, it is a beauty that one cannot fully or easily comprehend, as I often realized upon reaching such a one’s end. I understand, I think, the overall premises and arguments of the book; I struggled, however, to understand many individual sentences in full. But then, as Hart notes, language too is a mystery.

The evolution of Hart’s thought and brilliance is on full display, nevertheless, as he continues his decades-long exploration of the divine across traditions, offering in All Things Are Full of Gods a recognizable sequel to such earlier books as Atheist Delusions, The Experience of God, and, to a lesser extent, That All Shall Be Saved.

Here, Hart’s meditation—for this book is more a meditation in dialogue form than any sort of traditional argument—centers around two essential premises that Psyche painstakingly tries to prove by drawing on examples from the past two and a half millennia of philosophy. First, that God and the divine or spiritual world are intensely, palpably real. Second (and most important), that the visible world is not all that there is—in fact, the things unseen are more real.

The mind is greater than the body. As Psyche puts it early in the dialogue, “Whatever the nature of matter may be, the primal reality of all things is mind.” But this idea, Hart is convinced, is not unique to any one tradition; rather, it is universal in premodernity. And so, Psyche concludes, “Ātman is Brahman—which I take to be the first, last, most fundamental, and most exalted truth of all real philosophy and religion alike.”

Such beautiful yet loaded statements are what have previously embroiled Hart in charges of heresy. For instance, he has been accused of universalism (the belief in universal salvation), a stance he seems to defend most vehemently in That All Shall Be Saved. And Hart’s new book contains more than a whiff of what one article criticized as Hart’s “Post-Christian Pantheism.”

Drawing Protestant conclusions

What do we make of it all—the dialogue of four pagan gods about the nature of the divine, about the thinking life, and about the nature of reality and the search for wonder in the modern world? This choice of conversationalists to present Hart’s argument is certainly thought-provoking. But perhaps we overthink this remarkable project and its intended meaning if we focus entirely on the premise of four pagan gods in conversation.

Ultimately, the theme that comes through is that of mystery—a transcendent sort of question without an exact answer. What is the meaning of life, of exploration, and even of our very existence? Psyche’s informed answers to question after question from Hephaestus are kaleidoscopic, expanding into seemingly infinite worlds swirling within, but mainly lead to this conclusion: There is no clear comprehensible answer. The thinking life is wonderfully rich—or at least it can be if we leave ourselves open to endless questions, as Hart encourages.

At the end, I was left with the Protestant Sunday school question: Where is Jesus in all this? In the words of hymnwriter Fanny Crosby, we can proclaim, “Take the world, but give me Jesus”—a statement that can read as a Protestant variation on Hart’s overall argument about spiritual reality surpassing the physical.

But Hart is not a Protestant. And perhaps that is what irks his critics most. For all his brilliance, we cannot fully know Hart’s mind, and so critics guess. I will refrain. But I do know that after reading this book, I can still readily draw Protestant conclusions about the transcendent beauty of the Creator God who has made all things. While I would not agree with Thales in a literal sense—that “all things are full of gods”—I can agree with the God of Genesis through Revelation, whose Word, in Isaiah 6:3, says that “the whole earth is full of his glory.”

Nadya Williams is the author of Cultural Christians in the Early Church and the forthcoming Mothers, Children, and the Body Politic: Ancient Christianity and the Recovery of Human Dignity.

Culture

19 Christian Para Athletes to Root For at the Paris 2024 Paralympics

Meet Paralympians from around the world who are unashamed of the gospel.

Christianity Today August 26, 2024

Around 4,400 Para athletes will vie for victory in 22 sports at the summer Paralympics, which run from August 28 to September 8 in Paris.

The Paralympics use a system of classification to ensure that Para athletes competing in the same category have “similar functional abilities in terms of movement, coordination and balance.” Each class includes a letter representing the sport (like S for swimming) and a number (the lower the figure, the greater the impairment in most cases).

The Christian Para athletes featured below hail from nine countries and are competing in 12 sports, including Para cycling, Para swimming, shot put, and wheelchair rugby.

Below are their stories on how living with disability and excelling in their sport has given them opportunities to proclaim God’s name.

With reporting by Isabel Ong, Mariana Albuquerque, Morgan Lee, and Angela Lu Fulton.

Boccia

Andreza Vitória de Oliveira, Brazil

Andreza Vitória de Oliveira was 14 when she started practicing boccia. Today, the 23-year-old is a world champion who won gold at the Parapan American Games last year.

This is Oliveira’s second Paralympic Games; she first competed at Tokyo in 2020. “I’m going to do everything that I can do with a lot of dedication so that, God willing, everything goes well and I come back with a Paralympic medal,” she said.

At age two, Oliveira was diagnosed with Leigh syndrome, a neurodegenerative condition that affects the central nervous system and makes walking difficult. Oliveira started using a wheelchair at 11, and her mother introduced her to the sport a few years later.

“When you find happiness in doing something you love, every moment becomes a blessing, and every effort turns into an inexhaustible source of fulfillment and gratitude,” she shared on Instagram in April.

Long jump

Trenten Merrill, USA

In 2023, Paralympian Trenten Merrill finished fourth in the long jump at the Paris World Championship, off the podium by merely a centimeter and just four centimeters away from a silver.

Reflecting on the outcome, he shared on Instagram Colossians 3:23: “Work wholeheartedly as if working for the Lord and not for man,” and Proverbs 3:5–6, “Trust in the Lord with all thy heart; and lean not unto thy own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”

Merrill, who lost his leg after a car hit him while riding a dirt bike, tried out multiple track and field events before settling on long jump. The 34-year-old has competed at both Rio and Tokyo and is currently the American record holder in long jump for his classification. His mantra, at least according to Instagram, is “Trust God, trust the process and kick back like a BigMac.”

William Stedman, New Zealand

In May, 24-year-old William Stedman set a new world record of 53.36 seconds in the men’s 400-meter T36 final (for Para athletes with coordination impairments) at the World Para Athletics Championships.

At Tokyo 2020, he won silver in the men’s long jump T36 category and bronze in the men’s 400-meter T36 race. He will compete in the same categories at the Paris Games.

“Relying on God through the stresses and ups and downs of being a professional athlete has been so important to me,” he revealed in a July blog post. “The environment can be very achievement driven … [but] having my identity in Christ means that although I may not always perform, my value is secure in Him.”

Stedman, who has cerebral palsy, considers Philippians 4:6–7 his favorite Bible verse: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Para Cycling

Jamie Whitmore-Meinz, USA

In 2008, Jamie Whitmore-Meinz discovered that she had spindle cell sarcoma, a condition that ultimately led doctors to amputate part of her left leg. Not long after, she learned that she was pregnant with twins.

“I’ve just always grown up knowing that strength comes from [God],” she said about this time in her life in a 2022 Sports Spectrum interview. “I’m going to fail and screw up, but I trust [God] to pull me out.”

Whitmore-Meinz, now 48, claimed gold at the 2016 Rio Games in the women’s road race C1-3 (a classification for Para athletes competing with prosthesis or limited movement). She has 12 world championships in total across her various disciplines and won the 2014 ESPY award for Best Female Athlete with a Disability.

“I’m so incredibly grateful God has led me on this path. … In 6 days I’ll officially be 16 years cancer free. I had no idea I would be heading to my third Paralympic Games way back then!” she wrote on Facebook in July. “God is good!”

Kadeena Cox, Great Britain

Last year, four-time gold medalist Kadeena Cox lost function on the right side of her body for the second time in her life and could barely walk. The first time this happened was in 2014, when she had a stroke and was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

As the 33-year-old continues to recover, she’s headed to the Paralympics for the third time to defend her women’s C4 500-meter time trial title of 34.433 seconds.

Throughout the health setbacks she’s experienced, Cox has been vocal about how much she’s relied on God. “Coping with my eating disorder while trying to prepare for the Paralympics is rough. … I’m doing everything to try [to] be in the best place mentally and trusting God to help me through,” she shared on Instagram in June.

“I know the fact that I’m back doing my thing … could only be God’s strength in me,” she also wrote on Instagram.

Nicolas Pieter Du Preez, South Africa

Nicolas Pieter Du Preez will be defending his title in hand cycling at the Paris Paralympics.

In 2003, Du Preez was hit by a car while cycling. He broke his neck and lost all function in his hands and fingers. Ten years later, he became the first person with tetraplegia (paralysis and loss of motor function from a spinal injury) to complete an Ironman triathlon.

He went on to win gold in the men’s time trial H1 race at the 2020 Tokyo Games despite sustaining a serious shoulder injury the year before. “So about a week after I broke my shoulder I told my wife that ‘this is probably God telling me that the gold medal in Tokyo is mine,’” he recounted.

Doing sports is how he spends time with the Lord. “I pretty much escape and connect with myself and God whenever I am out training, especially on the long easy training sessions,” he shared in a 2022 interview.

Para Swimming

Jessica Long, USA

For years, Jessica Long, one of the world’s most decorated Paralympic swimmers, has wrestled with her anger at having been given up for adoption.

“I’ve always been proving myself, right? To prove that I wasn’t just a girl with no legs, that I was worth it, that I can find a way to forgive my birth mom and that truly was the best thing,” the 32-year-old shared recently on The Natalie Tysdal Podcast.

Long was born without her lower leg bones and spent the first months of her life in a Siberian orphanage, undergoing 25 surgeries after coming to the US. She won her first gold medal at age 12 in 2004 and is now a 13-time world-record holder.

As she heads to her sixth Paralympics, Long knows that “at the end of the day swimming is just something I love to do. It’s a talent that God gave me.”

Katarina Roxon, Canada

At 15, Katarina Roxon was the youngest swimmer to represent Canada in the 2008 Beijing Paralympics. Eight years later, she scored gold at Rio in the 100-meter breaststroke and was part of the team that clinched the bronze in the 4×100 freestyle relay in Tokyo 2020.

While she thought of retiring in recent years, the upcoming Paris Paralympics marks the fifth time she is competing. “Going through many valleys this last quad has truly made me rely on God and his will for me, whatever it may be,” Roxon, 31, wrote on Instagram.

Roxon, whose left arm is missing below her elbow, firmly believes that being “different” is a superpower: “We are all in positions that can change the world! So use the abilities that God has blessed you with, to change someone’s world for the better!!”

Taylor Winnett, USA

Twenty-four-year-old Taylor Winnett captured seven medals (three gold and four silver) at the 2023 Parapan American Games. When she celebrated these accomplishments on Instagram, she quoted 1 Timothy 4:8: “For while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.”

The Para athlete is debuting at the Paris Paralympics and will compete in four swim events, including the 100-meter butterfly and the 400-meter freestyle in the S10 classification (for Para athletes with physical impairment).

Winnett lives with Ehler-Danlos syndrome and postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome and has shared about her struggles with loving her body. “I remind myself that even though my body has been broken down and is not considered ‘perfect’ by society, it’s my home,” she wrote on Instagram this April. “I was made in the image of God.”

Para Judo

Priscilla Gagné, Canada

Six weeks before the Tokyo 2020 Paralympic Games, judoka Priscilla Gagné fractured her elbow. But she went on to score the silver medal in the women’s 52-kilogram category against Germany.

“God gave me the grace to fight through it and still accomplish the mission, to come home with a medal,” she shared at a church in Tacoma, Washington in 2022.

Gagné, 38, was born with a genetic disorder, retinitis pigmentosa, and is partially blind. She started practicing judo in 2010, going on to medal at various world championships. “Judo has been something that God has used to enrich my life,” she said.

The Rhema Bible Training College graduate cites meditating on the Word and listening to an audio Bible as some of her favorite ways to spend time with God. “I’m a child of the Most High God. I do judo … but that’s not who I am.”

Para Powerlifting

Herbert Aceituno, El Salvador

“What God did not give me in height, he gave me in strength,” Herbert Aceituno, 38, said in an interview in May. Aceituno was born with achondroplasia and hydrocephalus and took up powerlifting after a friend invited him to the gym.

In 2019, Aceituno broke the record in the men’s up-to-65 kilogram category when he lifted 182 kilograms. He broke another record at the 2023 Pan American Games by lifting a whopping 192 kilograms in the men’s up-to-59 kilogram category.

“This medal goes to God and in memory of my father who from heaven is proud of what is done in this beautiful sport,” he declared.

The Paris Games will be Aceituno’s third time competing. At Tokyo 2020, he scored bronze in the 59 kilogram weightlifting category and was the first Salvadoran to medal at the Paralympics. “Thank you God. Now the Paralympic dream begins again and, if God allows it, we will have fresh happiness for this country,” he wrote on Instagram.

Shooting Para sport

Alexandre Galgani, Brazil

At the 2023 Parapan American Games, Alexandre Galgani, 41, took home a silver and a bronze medal and also secured a spot to compete in Paris.

When he was 18, Galgani hit his head while diving into a pool and experienced a spinal injury, losing mobility in most of his body. He competes in a category for rifle shooters who need support to shoot because they cannot use their arms to brace the weight of the weapon.

The Paralympian, who first represented Brazil at the 2020 Tokyo Games, shared an Instagram post in June reflecting on the power of second chances. “Then God said to me: ‘You will enjoy your life. You will learn to look to the future without feeling pain from the past. You will find a way to close wounds that once seemed eternal,’” he wrote.

“All honor to the one who strengthens me daily, God.”

Shot put

Funmi Oduwaiye, Great Britain

Welsh Para athlete Funmi Oduwaiye, 20, will be making her debut in discus throwing and shot put at the Paris Games.

During a routine surgery to correct her knocked knees in 2019, the surgeon damaged an artery that delayed blood flow into her leg, according to a short documentary published in July. This led to 10 more surgeries over the next three years. Doctors said she would never walk again.

Oduwaiye defied expectations and fought through the pain and paralysis of her right leg below the knee. In 2022, she decided to try Para athletics and discovered she was a natural at throwing events. At the Welsh Athletics Championship, she threw 11.03 meters in F64 shot put, just four centimeters off the world record. (This classification is for Para athletes with lower limb impairment.)

Oduwaiye has leaned on her faith during the last couple of years: “I can name a number of people that have helped me along the way, but I feel like it was God moving through them,” she said. “I give all the glory to him for me standing here today.”

Poleth Isamar Mendes Sanchez, Ecuador

At Tokyo 2020, Poleth Isamar Mendes Sanchez, 28, won the country’s first-ever Paralympic gold medal in the F20 women’s shot put (a class for Para athletes with intellectual impairment). At the Paris Games, she’s aiming to do the same.

Mendes was born with an intellectual disability and struggles with memory issues. In May, she celebrated making the podium at the Para Athletics World Championships by proclaiming: “God lives in me! Another victory, I can only be grateful.”

Mendes’s gratitude to God isn’t just limited to her sports achievements. “I know I have a lucky life and I appreciate every single thing I have. … Thank You My God,” she shared on her birthday several years ago.

Selina Sanday Seau, Fiji
Pacific WAVE Sports Consultancy / Facebook
Selina Sanday Seau

At a low point in her life, Selina Sanday Seau felt “she was not worth being part of anything.” The 45-year-old has a hearing impairment, a prosthetic leg, and a shortened hand on one arm. But God helped her to “realize her potential,” she said in an interview last year.

The versatile Para athlete has represented her country in badminton, discus, and javelin. She will compete at the Paris Games for the first time in the women’s Shot Put Ambulatory Para category after scoring bronze at the Oceania Athletics Championship.

Earlier this year, Seau enrolled in a sports science diploma program, and she hopes to encourage other people with disabilities to pursue their dreams. “Whether it is sports or studies,” she said, “if you have the determination and the passion, nothing is impossible.”

Sprint

Alan Fonteles Cardoso Oliveira, Brazil

At the 2012 London Games, Alan Fonteles Cardoso Oliveira beat his competitors, including South African favorite Oscar Pistorius, in the men’s 200-meter T44 final to win gold with a time of 21.45 seconds. (The T44 category is for Para athletes whose movement in a lower leg is affected at a low or moderate degree.)

The sprinter’s sudden fame overwhelmed the Paralympian, leading him to take a sabbatical away from the tracks. He returned to the sport in 2015 and competed in Rio 2016 and Tokyo 2020.

Fonteles’s legs were amputated when he was less than a month old after he caught an intestinal infection that developed into sepsis. He began running with prosthetic legs made of wood and would bleed during practice.

For the Paris Games, the believer is competing in the T44 200-meter race and quoted Bible verses like Psalm 37:5–27—”Commit, trust, and wait”—on his Instagram account. “God has been incredible and I know there is still much more to come,” he wrote on Instagram last year.

Wheelchair Marathon

Daniel Romanchuk, USA

At just 26, Daniel Romanchuk is already headed to his third Paralympics and is eager to return to the podium after medaling twice at the Tokyo Games.

In 2021, Romanchuk took home the gold in a thrilling 400-meter T54 race that saw him edge out Thai competitor Athiwat Paeng-nuea by 0.01 seconds. (The T54 category is for Para athletes who are functional from the waist up.) Several days later, he won a bronze medal in the marathon.

Coming into this year’s Games, Romanchuk has earned a second-place finish (with a personal best time of 1:20:37) at the Boston Marathon, and another second-place finish at the London Marathon.

“It’s a huge honor to be able to go to the Games and to represent the US on a world stage,” he said of competing in the upcoming Paris Paralympics. “Really thankful to God for the opportunities that I’ve had.”

Wheelchair Racing

Karé Adenegan, Great Britain

Karé Adenegan of Coventry, England, was born prematurely with cerebral palsy and uses a wheelchair. At 11, she watched British Paralympian Hannah Cockroft win gold medals in the 2012 London Paralympic Games and realized that she too could compete at an elite level in sports.

Four years later, she went up against Cockroft in the 2016 Rio Paralympic Games, winning a silver and two bronze medals. In Tokyo, she took home two more silvers. In Paris, she will be facing off against Cockroft again in the 100-meter and 800-meter races.

While her disability caused her to question God, Adenegan, 23, began to see that wheelchair racing has been “a door to a platform to develop myself and share my faith,” she told Premier Christianity in July.

On her Instagram account and in interviews, she’s boldly pointed others to the source of her success. After the Tokyo Games, she wrote in an Instagram caption that, although she was living out her dream, “only Jesus satisfies. The greatest achievement of this year has been falling in love with Jesus again.”

Wheelchair Rugby

Zion Redington, USA

At the age of two, Zion Redington was adopted by Heather Redington-Whitlock, an American passionate about serving children with medical challenges. Redington was born in China with ectrodactyly, a condition that gave him one finger on each hand and one toe on each foot.

After doctors decided to amputate his feet to improve his mobility, his mother threw him into various sports. The best fit, though, was the Cumberland Crushers, a rec wheelchair rugby team in Nashville, which helped set Redington on a pathway to qualifying for this year’s Paralympic Games.

Despite his passion and talent for the sport, Redington acknowledged that he has struggled with stress and burnout. The 18-year-old recently described his faith as a “resting place” and “a place of comfort,” where he knows that God is with him and is supporting him.

Ideas

Kristyn Getty: Joni Eareckson Tada Got Me Singing

As the famed disability advocate nears 50 years of ministry, a friend reflects on her legacy.

Joni Eareckson Tada

Christianity Today August 26, 2024
Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: Getty

It’s said you should never meet your heroes. But Joni Eareckson Tada is different.

I first heard Joni speak when I was 15 years old, sitting in the balcony level of the Waterfront Hall in Belfast. I had heard her story from my mom. I had watched the movie about her life. I knew that she had been in a wheelchair for decades as the result of a teenage diving accident. I had read about how she continued to follow Jesus, sharing the gospel and serving others. Now here she was, in my little home city. I was struck by how much joy she had in the Lord despite everything she faced every day. It was a special night.

I wouldn’t meet Joni for another decade, when we were introduced at a conference in Nashville. Right away, she set me at ease, expressing genuine interest in my work. As soon as she could, she gathered some people around and started to lead us in hymns. I’ve come to realize that this was a very “Joni thing” to do; I don’t remember a time with her since when she hasn’t got us singing. I left that night hoping very much that I’d get to know her more.

By that time, Joni was in her 50s. She had been in her wheelchair—and in constant pain—for more than three decades. Born in 1949 in Baltimore, the youngest of four girls, she was confident, outgoing, and sporty. But everything changed on that day in July 1967 when she dived into shallow water, hit her head on the bottom of the Chesapeake Bay, and was instantly paralyzed.

The two years that followed brought a degree of struggle that’s difficult to imagine. Joni was strapped to a hospital bed. She was often alone. She quickly became aware that there would be no recovery. In this dark night of the soul, she wrestled with her faith in a God who had allowed this to happen—and who was not answering her prayers for healing.

And, crucially, Joni read her Bible. She chose to trust the promise that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him” (Rom. 8:28)—the kind of verse that gets a nod on good days, is difficult to trust on harder days, and requires the Spirit’s supernatural work to believe on the darkest days.

Joni believed it. She still does. Her confidence propelled her out of the hospital and into a series of programs that have transformed hundreds of thousands of lives. Joni and Friends, established 45 years ago, includes a radio ministry that teaches the Bible and helps people understand what it’s like to live with a disability. The Wheels for the World initiative sends wheelchairs to parts of the world where they are scarce and expensive.

Many of us are familiar, at least in part, with these biographical details from Joni’s life. They are inspirational. But, of course, the people we admire from a distance can often seem very different, maybe even disappointing, up close—hence that “never meet your heroes” admonition. Joni doesn’t deserve that warning. After that conference, I did indeed get to know her more. And she remains one of the most genuine, faithful people I have ever spent time with.

One evening at Joni’s home in Pasadena, California, as we waited for our Chinese take-out to arrive, the doorbell rang. Everyone was hungry. Ken, Joni’s husband, answered the door. Instead of simply thanking the delivery man and taking the food, he started a conversation with him. He grabbed one of Joni’s books about Jesus, kept close to the door for this exact purpose, and gave it to him. As Ken closed the door, he said to me, “You have to take every opportunity you can to tell people about the Lord.”

That could be a motto for both Ken and Joni. Joni views her limited mobility, which could be seen as a barrier to living for Christ, as an opportunity. She has used her wheelchair to share Jesus with people who perhaps would listen to no one else.

When I started writing a book for young kids about Joni’s life and faith, I knew I had to include an anecdote from when our daughter, Eliza, was a little girl. It was another visit with the Tadas; Eliza, with that glorious guilelessness that children have, decided to ask Joni a very direct question. “Joni,” she said, “will you ever walk again?”

Joni smiled.

“Yes, I will,” she said. “When I go to heaven, Jesus will give me new legs.”

There are insights only the eyes of suffering can see. There are cuts so deep that only faith can mend them. There are true things that are best proven by a simple, steadfast trust in the Lord. And there is a confidence we all need that grows when we see the Lord’s bright promises piercing the darkness.

These are some of the otherworldly insights Joni Tada brings to all our lives. She would, of course, tell you, and anyone who will listen, that this is all the Lord’s grace. And it is! But it is beautiful to see that grace at work in and through Joni—that grace that is sufficient for and made perfect in weakness (2 Cor 12:9). Elisabeth Elliot, another woman who was no stranger to navigating difficult paths, once wrote, “The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.” This is Joni’s open secret.

Joni Tada is living proof of the promise she believed in the hospital all those years ago: that the Lord truly does work for the good of those who love him, and really does conform his people into the image of his Son, even—perhaps especially—in suffering, when his plans are most opaque. She teaches us how good it is to pray, in the words of a hymn we sang together years ago:

Good Shepherd of my soul,
Come dwell within me;
Take all I am and mold
Your likeness in me.
Before the cross of Christ,
This is my sacrifice:
A life laid down and ready to follow.

Kristyn Getty is the founder, along with her husband, Keith, of Getty Music. She is an award-winning hymn writer, as well as the author of Sing! and a children’s biography, Joni Eareckson Tada: The Girl Who Learned to Follow God in a Wheelchair.

News

As Nicaragua Cancels Hundreds of Churches, Pastors and Advocates Debate Impact

Hundreds of evangelical ministries lose legal status as Ortega regime confiscates assets and imposes up to 30 percent fee on offerings.

Supporters of Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega and Vice President Rosario Murillo hold their pictures during a march.

Christianity Today Updated September 6, 2024
Oswaldo Rivas / Getty

Key Updates

September 6, 2024

Just weeks after shutting down 1,500 organizations and churches, the Nicaragua government has suspended the legal status of an additional 169, including 86 Christian entities. Among those affected were the Nicaraguan Evangelical Alliance, denominations such as the Episcopal Church and the Moravian Church, and local congregations including the First Baptist Church of Managua.

In its August 29 announcement, the government called the suspensions necessary due to missing financial statements and the organizations’ failures to report information about their leadership. The government also says the measures are an effort to fight money laundering by nonprofit organizations.

The suspension of legal status will not result immediately in the closure of churches. In a statement issued on August 31, two days after the suspensions, the Moravian Church provincial board admitted failures in their financial documentation, blaming a 2019 change in the church’s internal regulations. However, the board assured congregants that religious activities “will be maintained as normal, without any restrictions from anybody.” The denomination also said its leaders met with regional authorities on August 31 to discuss the issue. “They told us that there was no intention to suspend the activities of the congregations, nor were the church’s assets touched,” it stated. 

Most of the affected organizations are small and lack formal support from professional accountants, said a Nicaraguan pastor who asked to remain anonymous.

Some Christians continue to support the government’s position. Sergio Tinoco, president of the Nicaraguan Federation of Evangelical Churches, which claims to represent over 10,000 congregations in the country, said that “the claim that churches are being shut down is a lie.”

He believes the government is only implementing “a change in the legal framework to better assist the churches.” In his view, the government is canceling these registrations because the affected churches will no longer register with the Ministry of the Interior.

Instead, said Tinoco, the government wants churches operating schools to work with the Ministry of Education, those operating a denominational hospital to register with the Ministry of Health, and those running orphanages to register with the Ministry of Family.

“There will be no closures. [The purpose] is to get new registrations in order to work under a new model,” he stated.

However, the decree evoked concerned reactions from organizations that promote religious freedom. UK-based CSW condemned the cancellation of the nonprofits’ legal status and called on the international community to do the same.

“The arbitrary cancellation of historic and diverse religious associations is, in many cases, leaving their members with nowhere to gather for religious purposes,” said CSW’s Anna Lee Stangl in a statement. CSW is also “highly concerned” about the effect the closures will have on the schools and hospitals run by these organizations.

Elsewhere, a deal brokered between the US and Nicaraguan governments led to the release of 135 political prisoners, including 11 pastors with the Texas-based ministry Mountain Gateway, who were incarcerated last December under allegations of money laundering. In March, the government sentenced them to 12 to 15 years of prison and fined them $80 million each.

As one condition of their release, the government sent the freed prisoners to Guatemala. “The United States and our humanitarian partners will temporarily provide the individuals with food, lodging, and medical assistance, including psychological support, to help them recover and begin the difficult work of rebuilding their lives,” the governments of the United States and Guatemala said in a joint statement.

August 23, 2024

A series of policies recently enacted by the Nicaraguan government will significantly impact the activities of churches and ministries operating in the country.

Viewed by religious freedom specialists as an effort to increase the state’s control over religious institutions, the measures impose taxes on tithes and offerings while mandating that organizations create formal partnerships with the Nicaraguan government to carry out in-country projects. Local newspaper La Prensa estimates that taxes on tithes may reach 30 percent.

President Daniel Ortega introduced the bill that was unanimously approved on August 20 by the Asamblea Nacional. Ortega’s party, the Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional, which started in the 1970s as a guerrilla group, controls the legislature.

The changes in the law will favor “the development of projects of interest to families and communities within a framework of solidarity and adherence to national laws,” said Vice President Rosario Murillo, who is married to Ortega.

The scope of the new regulations has been vague. Both Murillo and an Asamblea Nacional statement on the bill described the laws as “strengthening transparency, legal security, respect, and harmony.” One likely consequence is that churches receiving foreign money—including funding from their own denominations—will be forced to enter into an alianza de asociación (“partnership alliance”) to access their funds.

The same day the legislation passed, the government canceled the legal status of 1,500 organizations, citing their failure to submit proper financial statements. For the first time since the Ortega administration began cracking down on nonprofits, nearly half of those affected include those with evangelical connections.

That includes a large number of Pentecostal ministries and churches, as well as those run by Baptists, Methodists, Lutherans, and Presbyterians. While a few of the institutions that were affected worked nationally, many were neighborhood churches of less than 100 congregants.

The majority of the other groups affected were connected to the Catholic church. (The rest focused on sports or culture.) As part of the government’s decree, these organizations’ assets will be transferred to the Nicaraguan government.

“Churches, especially the smaller ones, are places where the sense of community and participation is very strong,” said a spokesperson for the Netherland-based Observatory of Religious Freedom in Latin America (OLIRE), who asked to remain anonymous for security reasons. “The government wants to diminish the importance of this contribution so that only the state stands out.”

Last year, these financial reporting requirements led to the closure of ten churches belonging to a Texas-based ministry, Mountain Gateway, and the arrest of 11 of its pastors operating in Nicaragua. Weeks earlier, the group had led a two-day evangelistic and relief event that brought together more than 300,000 people.

However, several laws passed in recent years have created complex financial reporting standards for nongovernmental organizations, resulting in compliance difficulties, according to The New York Times. Even the Catholic church has struggled.

Since 2018, the government has closed 3,390 organizations (10% of them foreign) for “money laundering,” according to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. In 2022, the government shut down 20 evangelical churches on similar grounds.

CT reached out to representatives of various Christian organizations in Nicaragua, including some of those whose status had been canceled. Nearly all declined to comment. One source described the situation as “very sensitive.”

“We can even go to prison or lose our citizenship for critical comments,” the person said.

Last year, the Nicaraguan government banned processions and outdoor worship services, citing security concerns after the 2018 protests that resulted in riots and arrests. The government also prohibited the display of symbols such as crosses or the Star of David in front of private homes.

Evangelicals comprise nearly 40 percent of Nicaragua’s 7 million people, making it the third-most evangelical country in Latin America. Many have no issue with Ortega’s actions.

“This is not exactly persecution,” said Ismael Jara, who pastors Iglesia Bautista Sendero de Luz in Ciudad Sandino. “We aren’t banned from going out into the streets and doing evangelism. … Only mass gatherings are not allowed due to the [political instability that followed the 2018 protests].”

Jara explained that stricter rules for events outside of churches will force congregations to be more organized when planning events. He also suggested that the loss of organization registrations might even be a positive for some churches, pushing them to become more financially transparent to meet the government’s reporting demands.

Additionally, Jara believes it will be healthy for believers to maintain a greater distance from politics. “We have to learn to be neutral and respect the authorities,” he said.

In April, after a group of experts presented a report on religious rights violations at the United Nations, six evangelical organizations—including three church associations, two denominational groups, and a theological studies center—published open letters affirming the existence of freedom of worship in the country. Bishop Aldolfo Sequeira, president at Centro Intereclesial de Estudios Teológicos y Sociales, signed one of the letters, declaring that the government “is respectful of the freedom of worship and expressions of faith of the Christian people, allowing each person to practice the religion of their choice throughout the country.”

Around the same time, the Baptist Convention of Nicaragua published a statement of support for Ortega and Murillo, who have “always supported our evangelistic work and have favored all our activities.”

But those outside the country are less convinced.

Because these shutdowns are “backed by a legislative framework,” the government’s threat to religious freedom is “more evident and more scandalous” than the 1980s crackdown on religious groups by the Sandinistas, or members of Ortega’s political party, the OLIRE spokesperson said.

By revoking registrations and confiscating the assets of religious organizations, the government is forcing these ministries to align themselves with larger groups that are willing to submit to the conditions imposed by the government, explained the representative, who asked to remain anonymous for security reasons. Without a legal registry, they can’t buy land or build a church.

Additionally, the government imposes its goals and policies on Christian organizations in an attempt to “eliminate any presence of institutions that do not share the same political orientation,” according to OLIRE.

In its justification of the legislation passed on Monday, Ortega argued that activities of nongovernmental organizations have resulted in “a discretionary use of [programs and projects] that is not linked to the national plans, strategies, and policies promoted by our good government in the fight against poverty and the security of our population.”

In June, the US Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF) published a report highlighting “severely deteriorating religious freedom conditions in Nicaragua.” “President Daniel Ortega and Vice President Rosario Murillo are using laws on cybercrimes, financial crimes, legal registration for not-for-profit organizations, and sovereignty and self-determination to persecute religious communities and advocates of religious freedom,” it stated.

USCIRF recommended that the US designate Nicaragua as a country of particular concern “for engaging in systematic, ongoing, and egregious violations of religious freedom” and suggested imposing sanctions on Nicaraguan government agencies and officials.

Up until now, the primary source of tension between the Sandinistas and the religious sector has been with the Catholic church. In February of last year, the bishop of Matagalpa, Rolando Álvarez, was arrested on charges of conspiracy and had his Nicaraguan citizenship revoked due to sermons deemed anti-government.

Álvarez was detained until January this year when the government exiled him to the Vatican. Brazilian president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva’s attempt to negotiate his release led to cooler relations between Brazil and Nicaragua, culminating in both countries expelling the other’s ambassador earlier this month.

In August 2023, a Nicaraguan court ordered the closure and confiscation of the assets of Universidad Centroamericana, a higher education institution in Managua run by Jesuits, at the government’s request. Authorities accused the university of harboring criminal activities during the 2018 protests. The action sparked protests within the academic community and at the Vatican.

Culture

‘Nightmares and Daydreams’ Fuses Jakarta’s Social Ills With the Supernatural

The Indonesian series by Joko Anwar reveals the horror of a spirit-filled world without a savior.

Faradina Mufti as Rara in the episode “Old House” from the Netflix series “Nightmares and Daydreams.”

Christianity Today August 23, 2024
Courtesy of Netflix © 2024

Indonesia is an enchanted culture full of folklore involving ghosts, demons, and djinns (shape-shifting spirits from Arabian and Muslim mythology).

These stories usually involve a moral of some kind: Do not leave a house unattended, for this invites the dwelling of demons. Always respect the elderly, lest they return to haunt you. Settle squabbles within your family, or their spirit will fail to transition to the afterlife due to unresolved conflicts on earth. Always come home before nightfall, because sunset signals the thinning of the barrier between the spiritual and the physical realms.

It is no wonder that on any given week, horror movies dominate the Indonesian box office. A powerhouse of the genre, director Joko Anwar (The Forbidden Door, Satan’s Slaves, and Impetigore) recently gave the rest of the world another taste of elevated Indonesian horror with Netflix’s Nightmares and Daydreams.

The seven-episode series offers an authentic look at how stories of the supernatural are woven into Indonesian culture and function as acute social commentary. Western audiences might be tempted to interpret Nightmares and Daydreams in a demythologized fashion—as if the supernatural elements of the series merely serve to draw audiences to consider the perennial social problems that plague Indonesia, or more specifically, Jakarta. Yet the supernatural and social issues actually coalesce in a way that echoes reality.

In particular, Nightmares and Daydreams reminds us of a pre-Christian culture, in which desperate characters turn not to God or the church for understanding or deliverance but resort to the occult or supernatural for relief, with devastating consequences.

A running theme of the series—in which each episode is its own short story in a loosely connected universe—is that desperate situations lead to desperate decisions. These decisions could be a moral compromise to cut corners, which leads the supernatural to punish the character, or an invocation of the supernatural in hope for deliverance.

For instance, “Old House” depicts a taxi driver named Panji with a dilemma: Should he continue to care for his cognitively declining mother or send her to a retirement home with a price tag that seems too good to be true? It’s a question heavy on the minds of many in Indonesia, as the country lacks a stable social security plan for pensions or affordable retirement homes. Aging parents expect to be taken care of by their adult children.

It is not unusual in Jakarta for three or four generations to live together in one home or in the same neighborhood. The cultural assumption is that when children are married, they are not sent off to form a nuclear family of their own but are rather enlarging the existing families. There is less emphasis on the notion of boundaries between married and unmarried adult children: All remain under the authority of the most elderly family member, and everyone has obligations to take care of the elderly.

So when a sense of desperation drives Panji to move his mother to the retirement home, it’s not a surprise that he faces punishment for neglecting his traditional role and caving in to his sense of despair. The retirement home turns out to be run by a monstrous cult that seeks to exploit them.

Many episodes center around characters living in dire poverty. In “The Orphan,” a grieving couple sets their hopes on a magical orphan boy, rumored to have the ability to bring about great wealth to those who take care of him and death to those who abuse him. “Encounter” focuses on a fisherman named Wahyu (Indonesian for “revelation”) and a village facing eviction. After Wahyu snaps a photograph of an angel, villagers hope to avoid forceful expulsion by leveraging the rare item. Both episodes highlight the gross inequality between Jakarta’s powerful rich and oppressed poor and the ways that the poor are vulnerable to further exploitation.

In “Poems and Pains,” Rania, an author who is struggling to move beyond her successful novel on abuse, is herself supernaturally in contact with a woman facing severe domestic abuse. The episode reminds audiences that abusers in Indonesia rarely face consequences due to the lack of legal pathways available for victims, and yet Indonesians are enthralled by such scandals as a form of entertainment.

Other episodes tackle the important role fathers play, exploring what happens when a father is absent as well as how a father’s choices can impact his family. “Hypnotized,” for instance, sees a desperate father resort to theft by hypnosis (an increasingly common phenomenon in Indonesia) to provide for his family, only to find that his family has followed in his footsteps, with tragic results. The responsibilities one has toward the family looms large in the conscience of this show.

The spirit-filled world of Nightmares and Daydreams reminds Christians of the unique hope we have in Christ amid broken systems and desperate situations, and of the redemptive influence of the Christian faith within the context of the ancient world.

Like Indonesian culture, the Greco-Roman world in which the early Christians lived was polytheistic—full of magical rites, pilgrimages, and idols. Christians were viewed as disrupters of religion because they rejected those practices and believed Jesus Christ was the climactic revelation of the one Creator God. He had addressed our ultimate problem of sin and defeated the powers, putting them to shame on the cross. Christianity was thus a demystifying, anti-superstitious religion.

Instead of seeing a myriad of spirits and powers behind each event or location, the Triune God is now seen as the agent of providence, who works through secondary causes, and cannot be manipulated by human decisions.

Instead of invoking the aid of the gods or spirits for one’s own ends, Jesus calls his disciples to emulate the God who did not count divinity a thing to be exploited but who humbled himself, taking the form of a servant (Phil. 2:6–7). He calls us to participate in the divine work of caring for “the least of these” (Matt. 25:40), considering the poor and marginalized blessed (Matt. 5:3–11), and taking care of the widow, the orphans, and those who cannot care for themselves (James 1:27). The church, therefore, should be an agent of mercy in times of great desperation.

The horror genre is a reminder that we are not in control, that we are vulnerable, and that we live in the “present evil age” (Gal. 1:4). Asian horror, in particular, often reveals a spiritual porousness that resists the secularization of the modern West, and Nightmares and Daydreams is no exception. It reminds us that the world is not yet fully leavened by the anti-superstitious influences of the Christian faith and that the church should be a salve, so that those in desperate situations need not turn to the demonic to find relief.

The show also displays in acute ways how Indonesian culture—which prioritizes family, traditional gender roles, and openness to the spiritual—continues to be plagued by sinful and broken conditions. Such cultures need the biblical witness just as much as secular contexts that prioritize autonomy, careerism, and resistance to any notion of enchantment.

Like many anthologies, the entries in Nightmares and Daydreams vary in quality. “Poems and Pains,” “The Old House,” and “P.O. Box” (which was directed by Anwar himself), stand out as the best. The acting can occasionally be overly theatrical or stilted, the special effects limited and at times sketchy, and the exposition too obvious. Some of the episodes could be trimmed into 30-minute vignettes instead of hour-long dramas (especially “Encounter” and “Hypnotized”). It’s also not for everyone, as the series contains disturbing themes involving violence, monsters, spirits, cults, and abuse.

Yet, for Christians, it reminds us that the cure for social ills is not to move from secularism to spiritualism, from autonomy to family values, from liberalism to conservatism (or vice versa). Instead, it’s to become more captivated by the unique hope we have in Christ, who calls us to be agents of mercy and reconciliation to a world that desperately needs it.

Apple PodcastsDown ArrowDown ArrowDown Arrowarrow_left_altLeft ArrowLeft ArrowRight ArrowRight ArrowRight Arrowarrow_up_altUp ArrowUp ArrowAvailable at Amazoncaret-downCloseCloseEmailEmailExpandExpandExternalExternalFacebookfacebook-squareGiftGiftGooglegoogleGoogle KeephamburgerInstagraminstagram-squareLinkLinklinkedin-squareListenListenListenChristianity TodayCT Creative Studio Logologo_orgMegaphoneMenuMenupausePinterestPlayPlayPocketPodcastRSSRSSSaveSaveSaveSearchSearchsearchSpotifyStitcherTelegramTable of ContentsTable of Contentstwitter-squareWhatsAppXYouTubeYouTube