Former UK Evangelical Leader Charged with Sexual Assault

Retired minister Jonathan Fletcher goes to court following major church investigation.

Julian Finney / Getty Images

The man at the center of one of England’s most prominent church abuse scandals is now facing criminal charges.

Jonathan Fletcher, the former vicar of Emmanuel Church Wimbledon, has been charged with indecent assault and grievous bodily harm for incidents that occurred 25 to 50 years ago, during his decades of leadership in the Church of England.

The 81-year-old appeared Wednesday in Wimbledon Magistrates’ Court, just a mile from his longtime church in southwest London.

The charges follow several years of allegations against Fletcher and an independent investigation backing the claims. Starting in 2017, dozens of men recounted past instances of bullying, coercion, and inappropriate behavior by Fletcher. Their accounts include naked massages, ice baths, and sauna visits.

Fletcher was a high-profile evangelical voice in the United Kingdom, and the news came as “a kick in the guts,” one Christian wrote in 2021, describing the “disconnect between memories of Fletcher as the erudite preacher and Bible teacher, and Fletcher the predatory abuser.”

Fletcher had already retired when the allegations arose, but his former diocese barred him from further ministry, alerted authorities, and commissioned an investigation in 2019. He responded by saying the behavior was consensual and apologized for any harm he had caused.

Two years ago, a report from UK safeguarding ministry ThirtyOne:Eight found “significant and ongoing safeguarding concerns” related to Fletcher’s mentoring relationships and ministry duties and concluded that his behaviors “constitute an abuse of spiritual authority and power, falling far short of the expectations, obligations and duties of those in Holy Orders.”

Investigators interviewed nearly 100 people from Emmanuel Church, including 27 victims. Fletcher declined to participate.

According to the report, some suggested Fletcher had been aroused by naked massages, and one said Fletcher asked him to perform a sex act, “and when he did not, [Fletcher] performed the act instead.” Participants in a prayer group described “being hit on the naked bottom with a gym shoe, being given a cold bath, or being left outside in the cold” as punishments for personal sin.

In the UK, Fletcher’s case drew more attention to the threat of spiritual abuse in churches.

Fletcher served at Emmanuel Church from 1982 until 2012. Police say the charges against him—eight counts of indecent assault on a man aged 16 or over and one count grievous bodily harm with intent—stem from incidents taking place between 1973 and 1999. He is scheduled to appear in court again on August 7.

The Diocese of Southwark announced the news of the charges in a statement, saying, “The Diocesan Safeguarding team continues to offer support to those affected by this matter and has liaised with the police in the course of their investigations.”

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Why We’re Weird for Thinking That Tim Scott Is Weird

Zachary Wagner

The politician’s public commitment to abstinence has made him an outlier in a sex-obsessed culture. But is the church any friendlier to older single men?

Scott Olson / Staff / Getty / Edits by CT

Tim Scott entered politics decades ago as a proud 30-year-old virgin. Campaigning at the height of 1990s evangelical “purity culture,” he proclaimed that sex should be reserved for marriage. Years later, chastity was still one of his talking points—even as he seemed to admit that his own commitment to abstinence had faltered.

Now, the South Carolina senator and vice-presidential hopeful is getting married to a “lovely Christian girl,” Mindy Noce. They’re set to tie the knot in early August, between the Republican National Convention and Election Day.

The current status of Tim Scott’s v-card is, of course, none of our business. The fact that it was ever a campaign talking point, in retrospect, is more than a little bizarre.

But the senator’s apologia for both his abstinence and his singleness also makes sense. It’s indicative of our collective suspicion toward older single people, present in both secular and church culture—our tendency to regard those who’ve never been married with pity, concern, and unease. This in spite of trends toward later and fewer marriages, and more writing on singleness in the church.

It’s easy to understand why our sex-obsessed culture regards a 30-year-old virgin (and especially an almost-60-year-old virgin!) with revulsion and confusion. But that same virgin is a pariah in the church for different reasons.

Evangelicals tend to marry young, relatively speaking. I was no exception. Five of the six siblings in my family had married by age 25—one of us at 19. In the church context I grew up in, getting married at 23 made sense . Implicit in the purity culture ideal of “saving yourself for marriage” was the reassurance that abstinence was only temporary. Singleness was a season of white-knuckled resistance to porneia, eyes on the prize of future marital bliss . I know abstinence is hard, books, pastors, parents, and mentors seemed to say. But if you marry young, at least you won’t have to abstain for very long.

But what if there was no spouse to save yourself for? What about those who remained unmarried for years or decades? The church’s insistence on purity rings and pledges didn’t allow for the possibility of single adulthood beyond one’s early 20s—especially for male single adulthood.

That’s because for young Christian men, then and now, marriage is portrayed as solving the problem of out-of-control sexual desire. That view is bolstered by a particular reading of Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 7:9 that it’s better to marry than “to burn” (purousthai). Young men, notorious for their ravenous carnal appetites, “need” an outlet. The provision of a wife is presented as God’s solution to this brute biological fact.

This reading of 1 Corinthians genders and particularizes Paul’s language to men in a way that the apostle himself does not. Paul does not say that post-adolescent males should pursue marriage because they’re especially virile. On the contrary, later in the same chapter (v. 28), he seems to discourage marriage; those who marry “will have worldly troubles,” literally, “tribulation by the flesh.”

As a not-yet-married man in his late 50s, Tim Scott would be an unusual nominee for vice president. Likewise, in the church, it’s exceptionally rare to find a single man (or woman, for that matter) serving as a head pastor or senior leader. One Barna study puts the percentage of married pastors at 96 percent. Meanwhile, Pew Research Center reports the proportion of never-married evangelical adults at 18 percent and rising.

So why are single people underrepresented in church leadership?

I suspect one explanation lies in wrong ideas about sexuality and marriage that make us wary of never-married Christian men in particular—and more so the older they get. We simply cannot imagine a sexually mature adult male without an “outlet” in marriage; we worry (or assume?) that older single men are acting out their sexual desire in ungodly ways.

What’s more, when marriage is equated with emotional, relational, moral, and spiritual maturity, being unmarried implies a corresponding immaturity. I know a man who was once passed over for a ministry position because an elder expressed concern about his singleness at age 30. By this measure, Jesus himself would have been considered a poor candidate.

While evangelicals have been quick to commend marriage to young people as an alternative to hookup culture, we have yet to produce a robust vision for abstinence’s relevance for older people: for virginity in one’s 30s, 40s, and beyond. This is especially alarming given that Christians (including many Christian men) are remaining single well into their adult life. When the promise of an early marriage fails to materialize, the church has alarmingly little vision for ongoing growth in discipleship, much less leadership.

Christians are right to condemn the cresting individualism that’s led to more and more young people delaying marriage and childbearing indefinitely. But too often, rather than rejecting this self-actualization, we merely offer the same idol by another means. An early marriage and lots of kids, we often argue, is the most reliable, respectable path to the good life.

The pursuit of chastity shouldn’t be undertaken to make us more appealing to a potential marriage partner—much less as a guarantee of “mind-blowing” sex or familial bliss. As with all Christian virtues, chastity is lived before God. And it envisions a future reality where the human institution of marriage will end and all of us will be enfolded into Trinitarian love.

Ultimately, we can understand extended or lifelong singleness in light of what’s to come for believers. When Paul says he wants to spare single people the trouble and distraction of married life, he reorients his community toward the kingdom of God. The present order of the world, including (remarkably!) human marriage, is passing away (1 Cor. 7:31); the eschatological order of God’s new world has broken into the present through the death and resurrection of Christ.

This vision of the now-and-future kingdom coheres with what Jesus teaches in the Gospels: that those who leave their family will receive a new one in the kingdom (Mark 10:29–31; Matt. 19:27–30) and that there will be no marriage in the resurrection (Matt. 22:30; Luke 20:34–36).

When Jesus is told that his mother and brothers wish to speak to him, he gestures toward his disciples; these are now his “mother, sisters, and brothers” (Matt. 12:46–50). Paul addresses the recipients of his letters as “brothers [and sisters]” and identifies himself as a father (1 Cor. 4:15). Peter exhorts his readers to love the family (“brotherhood,” 1 Pet. 2:17). The church constitutes a new, dare we say truer family, not merely one that exists alongside our biological relations.

The church-as-family vision of the New Testament is a key part of what makes extended and lifelong singleness possible. For those who don’t have a spouse or children to take care of their everyday needs, the church should (and historically has) filled in the gap.

Tim Scott’s presence on our nation’s political stage as a single Christian man has been unique, as has been his continued adherence (in principle, at least) to a traditional sexual ethic. His story is timely given not only demographic shifts toward singleness but contemporary conversations rethinking what sex is for and how community is constituted. Amid these debates, models of faithful, chaste, single, mature Christians are more radical—and more needed—than ever.

Zachary Wagner is director of programs for the Center for Pastor Theologians and the author of Non-Toxic Masculinity: Recovering Healthy Male Sexuality.

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Books

Review

Catholic Miracle Stories Should Take Us Outside Our Protestant Comfort Zones

Garrett Brown

Even when they strain credulity, they can challenge our assumptions about popular piety and the limits of the possible.

Illustration by Elizabeth Kaye / Source Images: Unsplash

On May 17, the Roman Catholic commission responsible for correcting errors in church teaching issued a guidance document with “Norms for Proceeding in the Discernment of Alleged Supernatural Phenomena.” While remaining open to genuine manifestations of the Holy Spirit, it addressed “serious critical issues that are detrimental to the faithful. … When considering such events, one should not overlook, for example, the possibility of doctrinal errors, an oversimplification of the Gospel message, or the spread of a sectarian mentality.”

They Flew: A History of the Impossible

Carlos M. N. Eire (Author)

512 pages

$23.83

The persistence of miracles within Catholicism distinguishes it from other Christian traditions. Belief in miracles represents not simply a concession to popular piety but a fundamentally different teaching about the work of the Holy Spirit and the response of the church.

Such things may seem baffling to most Protestants; in the commission’s words, they (and other doubters) would prefer to frame these phenomena as “believers being misled by an event that is attributed to a divine initiative but is merely the product of someone ’s imagination, desire for novelty, tendency to fabricate falsehoods (mythomania), or inclination toward lying.”

Rather than dismiss these claims outright, the Catholic church has established processes (like the May guidance) for adjudicating them. But this is just a refinement to a tradition of engaging with the supernatural that dates back centuries. And that history is the subject of a new book, Carlos Eire’s They Flew: A History of the Impossible.

Eire, a professor of history and religious studies at Yale University, examines how this process worked in the centuries following the Reformation. He focuses not on healings or apparitions, which are accepted more widely within Christendom, but on two extreme and peculiar supernatural events—levitation and bilocation (appearing in two places at once)—that reportedly touched the lives of several monastics and mystics.

As if that weren’t ambitious enough, They Flew sweeps into its narrative a host of related questions about competing accounts of the supernatural, their inversion in demonology and witchcraft, and their development alongside the Age of Reason. It asks readers to track with Catholic concepts of piety, holiness, monasticism, and bodily mortification, as well as the church’s institutional authority to define and regulate these matters.

By implication, the book probes the disenchantment of the modern age, the certainty of our assumptions about the past, and the limits of modern historical writing. It dares to revise our understanding of early modern Europe where other historians have fallen short.

Paths of investigation

Readers may be somewhat familiar with Eire from earlier works. His National Book Award-winning 2002 memoir, Waiting for Snow in Havana, recounts his boyhood at the beginning of Castro’s Cuba before he and his brother—and 14,000 other unaccompanied children—were airlifted from the island in 1962. His 2010 follow-up, Learning to Die in Miami: Confessions of a Refugee Boy, charts the diaspora of family members in the United States, the fate of his father (who remained in Cuba), and the awakening of Eire’s faith in Christ.

Before publishing these breakout memoirs, however, Eire had distinguished himself as a scholar of early modern history, one skilled in writing critically acclaimed books that regular readers could appreciate. In 2017, on the 500th anniversary of the Reformation, Eire published a magisterial history of the early modern era called Reformations (emphasis on the plural), which achieves an unparalleled balance between the respective Catholic and Protestant narratives.

In Reformations, Eire previews the argument he expands upon in They Flew:

As the sixteenth century gave way to the seventeenth, the boundary between the natural and supernatural seemed to shift in Catholicism. From Teresa of Avila in Spain, whose corpse refused to decompose, to Joseph of Cupertino in Italy, who flew through the air and read people’s minds, to Martín de Porres in far-off Peru, who could be in two places at the same time and also communicate with animals, the Catholic world pulsated with the expectation of everything that the Protestants ridiculed as impossible, and with an eagerness to enshrine and venerate the miraculous with more fervor than ever before, thus intensifying the differences between Protestant and Catholic cultures. …

By claiming the power to distinguish between real and fraudulent claims, and to consecrate those that were genuine, the church made clear that all miracles came through it. And miracles had a double edge: they not only confirmed and strengthened the faithful; they also served as polemical weapons in the church’s struggle against Protestantism.

Eire digs deeper in They Flew, asking readers to consider apparent impossibilities. Did certain Catholic saints actually levitate or bilocate? On what grounds could the Christian faithful accept such claims? And if we did, what would they mean for modern-day believers?

Eire understands the difficulty of his task. Miracles, as he observes, “are not just puzzling for historians but also immensely frustrating. The further one goes back in time, the more difficult it becomes not to bump into them, or into their preternatural demonic counterparts. The testimonies are simply there in the historical record, cluttering it up abundantly, and their existence cannot be denied.”

The book proceeds by retelling the lives of six monastics: Saint Teresa of Avila (1515–1582), Saint Joseph of Cupertino (1603–1663), the Venerable María de Jesús de Ágreda (1602–1665), and three disgraced nuns who lived between the late 15th and early 17th centuries. Thanks to rich source material, Eire narrates each in considerable detail, citing personal testimony, eyewitness accounts, and, in some cases, reports from officials charged with investigating the miracles in question.

In this short space, I cannot draw out the relevant details. One story stands out, however, because it was left unvalidated by the church. The case of María of Ágreda involves levitations, bilocations, and ecstatic revelations. Only the last of these, not the first two, has complicated her canonization by the Catholic church.

María is perhaps most famously associated with the phenomenon of bilocation. Reportedly, she appeared to indigenous peoples in New Mexico and Texas while physically remaining in Spain. Between 1621 and 1631, she claimed to have made hundreds of such spiritual visits, instructing the indigenous populations in Christianity and encouraging them to seek out missionaries.

As Eire explains, “This was not all. The Indians themselves and Spanish Franciscan missionaries in New Mexico would later corroborate her incredible claim and give rise to the legend of the Lady in Blue, a reference to the blue cloak that was part of María’s Conceptionist Franciscan habit.”

Through visions and “automatic writing” allegedly performed under an external spiritual power, María produced a voluminous account of the life of the Virgin Mary called The Mystical City of God. As Eire writes, it purported to contain “many intimate details not found in the New Testament or other early Christian texts.” This work faced initial resistance and was condemned by the Spanish Inquisition and the Sorbonne for its controversial theological content. Despite this, Eire notes, it “lent an authoritative seamlessness to the narrative of her miraculous missionary feats” and gained considerable attention among clergy and laypersons alike. Published in 1670, five years after her death, it remains a source of inspiration for some Catholic believers.

Adding to the complexity of her case, María ’s influence extended to the Spanish royal court through her extensive correspondence with King Philip IV, to whom she served as spiritual adviser and confidante for many years. Her letters covered a wide range of topics, from spiritual matters to political advice, highlighting her significant influence on the king and his policies.

Since her death, María’s life and works have been the focus of considerable debate between those who wish to canonize her and those who remain deeply skeptical. Less than 10 years after her death, she was elevated to the status of Venerable by Pope Clement X, but the Catholic church remains slow to advance her beatification—and that, as Eire demonstrates, is to its credit.

The case of María presents a focal point for Eire between paths of investigation and the limits of a historian’s ability to follow. He writes:

María’s case allows us to examine the troublesome roles played by interpretation, embellishment, and exaggeration in the forging of narratives as well as in the creation of doubt and suspicion. Conversely, her case also provides a clear glimpse of the ways in which the Catholic Church sought to maintain a delicate balance between popular piety and official theology and between the affirming and questioning of the seemingly impossible. The fundamental questions raised by María’s miracles were immense precisely because of their seemingly outlandish otherworldliness. That excessiveness exposed the fragility of her claims, along with her own vulnerability. Yet, at the very same time, her miracles also reveal the eagerness with which impossible feats could be believed in and embellished, or even suggest the likelihood of pure fabrication.

Our responses to María of Ágreda reveal a lot about our preexisting intellectual and theological frameworks. Contemporary Protestants struggle to accommodate certain expressions of individual piety. And contemporary readers in general struggle to overcome certain entrenched assumptions about the limits of the possible.

Otherworldly holiness

While much of Eire’s material was new to me, especially as someone coming from a Protestant background, I was willing to follow him with an open mind into new territory. I found Eire’s deft handling of these matters wise and inviting. Their strangeness only enhanced their mystery.

Eire confronts gargantuan topics that have roiled culture and religion for centuries—the profound consequences of the Protestant revolution, the disenchantment of the modern age, the relationship between faith and skepticism, the reliability of our mental models of reality, and the continuing action of God in the world. They Flew provides a historical scaffolding for exploring all these issues and more, guided by one of wisest writers I know.

Much more could be said about Eire’s remarkable book. I haven’t even touched on the way he engages with Protestant reactions to the supernatural (almost always dismissed as demonic if not outright fraudulent). That my own tradition should hold these default interpretations could seem to contradict belief in God’s sovereignty.

Unlike Eire ’s previous works, They Flew has an undeniably polemical edge, since the book underscores deep divides between Catholics and Protestants. And it ’s clear throughout that Eire takes the Catholic side, which makes the book all the more compelling. It was impossible not to find myself engrossed in Eire’s meticulous—one might even say loving—handling of these narratives.

As he explains in one revealing passage:

Although a good number of Catholics in North America and Europe no longer pay much attention to [miracles as a] marker of Catholic identity—and some might even express embarrassment and dismay at its robust survival—these core beliefs remain embedded in global Catholicism as well as in the official teaching of the Catholic Church. Because these beliefs are still a cornerstone of the cult of the saints and this cult is itself an essential component of Catholic piety and identity, it is very difficult to imagine them being jettisoned. Simply put: no miracles, no Catholicism.

Eire’s entire investigation seems fueled by a drive to know how these claims drove a wedge between Catholics, who saw these miracles as evidence of God’s providence, and Protestants, who saw them as demonic.

This aspect of Eire’s book strikes me less as a provocation than as a challenge. As a Protestant, how far am I willing to engage these narratives as alternative models for Christian piety? I want to let them complicate my assumptions about what it means to lead a faithful, godly life—and my own knee-jerk rejection of anything miraculous in the post-apostolic age. If Christ has risen from the dead, who am I to judge?

That said, I also found my sympathies stretching only so far. Most of the saints Eire portrays pursued holiness through the mortification of the flesh, to an extent that often made me wince.

Take this detail, for instance: “In addition to fasting constantly and observing a vegan diet, María wore a hair shirt under her habit, along with a girdle studded with spiked rings and a heavy abrasive vest of chain mail. To top off her self-punishment, she also wrapped her body in chains and fetters, scourged herself daily, and wore a crucifix riddled with needles that she could press into her breast when she prayed.” We cannot conceive in our own day and age how these monastics could inflict their own physical suffering in pursuit of the divine. To moderns, such masochism looks like a form of madness.

I also wished that Eire had provided a more thoroughgoing critique of mass delusion as a possible explanation for these miracles. Eyewitness testimony is fraught with many well-observed behaviors and self-deceptions that distort the truth. Eire does not discount this interpretation of events—rooted in the madness of crowds, especially those motivated to see what they want to see—but he stops well short of embracing it.

It is certainly true that Protestants saw the same events and interpreted them very differently. So how do we account for these varying tendencies of the human mind? Eire doesn’t address these concerns directly, instead trusting the admittedly diverse source material more than others might.

Whatever we make of these saints’ lives, they provide a powerful witness to other ways of living out one’s faith. We can learn from their devotion, their call to purity, their denial of self, and even their mortification of the flesh in pursuit of otherworldly holiness.

More than that, we have Eire’s own example to learn from—his life story, his generosity of spirit, and his contributions to our understanding of the early modern period. Watching his delight in recounting these stories of the impossible is an act of faith itself. One might even say that it’s miraculous.

Garrett Brown is a writer and publisher living in Northern Virginia. His Substack page is @noteandquery.

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Books

The Precarious Position of India’s Christians—and Its Democracy

Interview by Surinder Kaur

Lawyer and author P. I. Jose discusses the growing influence of Hindutva ideology and its threat to India’s constitutional order.

Hindu nationalists wave flags of Lord Ram and raise prayer cries during an event held in India.

Anindito Mukherjee / Stringer / Getty

During the last decade in India, a Hindu nationalist government has taken the helm, and Hindutva ideology, once considered as fringe, has become firmly entrenched and empowered politically and socially.

Since Prime Minister Narendra Modi first rose to power in 2014, India has grappled with rising religious nationalism, posing significant challenges to its founding principles of pluralism and equality. Democracy watchdogs have expressed concern about the health of the world’s largest democracy. In 2018, for instance, one group categorized India as an “electoral autocracy.” In 2024, the country was downgraded in status, becoming known as “one of the worst autocratizers.” Both domestic and international observers have raised concerns about potential threats to India’s constitutional framework and minority rights.

Many rejoiced when Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) failed to win an absolute majority last month for the first time in three elections, but concerns about the widespread political and social influence of Hindutva remain.

Against this backdrop, P. I. Jose’s new book, Hindutva Palm-Branches and the Christian Resolve, examines India’s evolving political and religious landscape. Drawing on his extensive experience practicing in front of India’s Supreme Court, Jose examines the growing influence of Hindutva and its impact on India’s constitutional democracy and secular fabric.

CT recently spoke with Jose about what secularism means in a country as religious as India, Hindutva’s effects on constitutional principles, and the precarious position of religious minorities, particularly Christians, in India’s current political climate.

How does India’s constitutional secularism compare to its practical implementation?

Former Indian Supreme Court justice K. M. Joseph once said, “Secularism is a facet of equality. If you treat all religions equally, that is secularism. You are fair, you do not bias or patronize.” However, his subsequent statement reveals the reality: “I am still optimistic that secularism will survive.” If a recently retired Supreme Court judge expresses such concern, one can imagine the actual situation in our country today.

The resolve of the people of India, in crafting the constitution, was to create “a Sovereign, Socialist, Secular, Democratic Republic,” according to the current preamble. Interestingly enough, the preamble adopted in 1949 did not originally contain the word secular, as B. R. Ambedkar, the architect of our constitution, said there was no need to include the term. He believed the entire constitution manifested the concept of a secular state, as it codified nondiscrimination on grounds of religion and gave equal rights and status to all citizens.

The words secular and socialist were added in 1976, during the Emergency (a 21-month period from 1975 to 1977 when then–prime minister Indira Gandhi declared a state of emergency across the country, claiming internal and external threats) via a constitutional amendment. And in a 1994 verdict, the Supreme Court of India held that secularism is part of the constitution’s basic structure and is unamendable.

However, Hindu nationalists have always been opposed to the idea of India being secular and, in fact, have made motions in parliament to delete the word from the constitution. As a result of Hindutva, which basically sees secularism as pandering to religious minorities, today we are witnessing widespread attacks against religious minorities, including Christians.

India has become infamous for lynching incidents and for the demolition of churches and other minority religious symbols. Fellow citizens and law enforcement personnel have attacked pastors, disrupted worship services, and engaged in rampant hate speech against religious minorities. Parallel to this, we see the government going all out to not only build huge religious structures for the state-favored religion but to color India in the majoritarian faith language and symbols, which is completely antithetical to secularism as envisioned by our founding mothers and fathers.

You argue that Hindutva opposes constitutional principles. Can you elaborate on this clash of values?

Activist V. D. Savarkar promulgated Hindutva in the 1920s to justify Hindu nationalism and establish Hindu hegemony in India. He defined Hindus as individuals whose “fatherland” and “holy land” were within the Indian subcontinent, thus excluding Muslims and Christians by definition but including Sikhs, Buddhists, and Jains as Hindus. Hindutva envisions and strives for a Hindu rashtra (nation) and opposes the principle of equality for all citizens, and even speaks of disenfranchising religious minorities. Even though Savarkar spoke against the caste system, modern Hindutva promotes it—and its foundation is the erasure of religious minority cultures.

Our constitution, in contrast, states that “the State shall not deny to any person equality before the law or the equal protection of the laws within the territory of India.” What’s more, the constitution also prescribes equality as a fundamental duty for every citizen “to value and preserve the rich heritage of our composite culture.”

Savarkar was one of the people who supported the two-nation theory that ultimately resulted in the partition of India. Hindutva, I believe, created the pangs of partition and the killing of millions of Indians, including Mahatma Gandhi. In a country that values ahimsa (nonviolence), this ideology has led to a steady growth in violence, as repeatedly recorded by various commissions investigating sectarian violence and violence against religious minorities in India, including Christians.

The Supreme Court of India has equated Hindutva with “Indianization.” Why do you believe this judgment is incorrect and undermines secularism and democracy in India?

In a 1995 Supreme Court ruling on an election appeals case, Justice J. S. Verma wrote, “Hindutva is understood as a synonym of ‘Indianisation,’ i.e., development of uniform culture by obliterating the differences between all the cultures co-existing in the country.”

The court’s ruling led to “Hindutva becoming a mark of nationalism and citizenship” and emboldened a movement that has consistently used violent means to express and enforce their beliefs. Countless lives have been lost since, with the Manipur violence being the latest manifestation.

By defining Hindutva as a way of life and not as a religion, the court disassociated it with the Hindu religion. This meant that Modi’s BJP, for instance, could legally appeal to Hindu sentiments for votes, which they have been doing since then. This dissociation has divided the nation along religious lines, facilitated the spread of hatred against other religions for votes, and portrayed adherents of other faiths as anti-national.

You suggest that Hindutva is more about Brahminical supremacy than authentic Hindu faith. What evidence supports this claim?

Hindutva has two facets. One concerns its treatment of other religions, where discriminatory practices stem from a desire to establish the supremacy of its adherents. At its core, Hindutva aims to establish a Hindu way of life based on the caste system as described in the Manusmriti and the Arthashastra—two Hindu scriptures that uphold the supremacy of the highest caste, Brahmins, who are traditionally priests—but it also advocates untouchability against what it deems as the outcastes.

However, I include in my book several Hindu scholars who cite different Hindu scriptures that suggest that equality is actually at the heart of the faith. From the work of these authorities, we can see that authentic Hinduism does not support caste-based hierarchy.

Your book alleges that Hindutva supporters have infiltrated government institutions. Can you provide examples of this?

As far back as 1982, a government report identified RSS (Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, a right-wing Hindu nationalist volunteer paramilitary organization) methodologies for provoking communal violence as “infiltrating into the administration and inducing the members of the civil and police services by adopting and developing communal attitudes.”

Recently, this type of behavior has become obvious and accepted, as seen in the conduct of government nominees to selection boards, including those of religious minority–run educational institutions. If they want their loyalists running such institutions, can we expect them to allow anyone not toeing their line into government positions while they’re in power?

How can India restore the integrity of its electoral process?

Since Modi’s 2019 victory, public opinion has turned against the election process. By 2023, almost every opposition party agreed that the current regime is misusing government power to thwart democratic processes.

A Supreme Court verdict highlighted the need for an impartial election commission and laid down procedural safeguards for its selection. But the Modi government circumvented these new regulations and compromised the independence of the commission.

Further, the Supreme Court rejected the opposition’s demands that the paper receipts of the votes issued from electronic voting machines (EVM) be counted to confirm the authenticity of the votes polled.

The court’s stubborn reasoning on this will remain India’s misfortune until citizens find ways to convince those important wise old men in power. Unless all citizens are free to vote and votes are properly counted, democracy cannot be revived in India.

What is the state of India’s opposition parties?

Despite their calls to save the constitution, most parties refuse to unite and instead work against each other, effectively aiding the ruling party. This division is aggravated by the infiltration of Hindutva forces, weakening their ability to present a cohesive front. Why aren’t these opposition parties insisting on changing EVMs or on 100 percent verification of votes?

Given the challenges you outline, what solutions do you propose for protecting the rights of Christian minorities in India?

When warning signals came after the 1982 Kanyakumari riots, we failed to wake up. Same when, in 1998, the RSS and its affiliated groups attacked tribal Christians in the Dangs district of Gujarat. The 2008 Kandhamal incident shook us slightly, but we failed to respond unitedly.

Four decades later, Hindu extremists are 40 times stronger and more entrenched in the government and society. The whole state machinery and power is under their control. Democracy is on a ventilator, and we can only hope to heal it by working with the majority community to restore and strengthen secular democracy.

- More from Interview by Surinder Kaur

News

Evangelical Presbyterians Take on Debate Over Celibate Gay Pastors

David Roach

As it brings in churches from mainline and conservative Presbyterian denominations, the EPC feels the tension in compromise.

EPC stated clerk Dean Weaver at the 44th General Assembly meeting at Hope Church in Memphis

YouTube screenshot / EPC

A Presbyterian denomination that prides itself on freedom in nonessentials has found its cooperative ministry model strained by the latest discussion of human sexuality.

Presbyterian historian Donald Fortson has been a member of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church (EPC) since its inception in 1981, and he says he has never seen a more “raucous” General Assembly than this year’s gathering, held last month in Memphis.

Among the topics of debate was whether to admit a congregation whose pastor identifies as homosexual but also says he is celibate and supports a traditional Christian sexual ethic, which falls under what some have called “Side B” Christianity.

Greg Johnson, pastor of Memorial Presbyterian Church in St. Louis, led his congregation to leave the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) two years ago after that denomination had a preliminary vote to disqualify from ministerial office “men who describe themselves as homosexual, even those who describe themselves as homosexual and claim to practice celibacy by refraining from homosexual conduct.” (The denomination needed two-thirds of presbyteries to ratify that vote, which failed.)

Johnson has described himself that way, advocating Side B Christianity both at the controversial Revoice conference and in his book Still Time to Care: What We Can Learn from the Church’s Failed Attempt to Cure Homosexuality.

Now his church has inquired about joining the EPC.

“That has stirred up all kinds of controversy,” said Fortson, professor of church history and pastoral theology emeritus at Reformed Theological Seminary, “because we’ve got some in the EPC that appear to be very open to bringing him into the EPC, and we’ve got other groups that are absolutely opposed to him coming into the EPC.”

During its June 18–20 gathering, the EPC voted for a two-year study on “contemporary usage of the sexual self-conception and how such language comports with Scripture and the Westminster Standards.” All the denomination’s local presbyteries have been asked to pause consideration of matters related to the study while it is in progress. That means Johnson’s church would not be admitted until at least 2026.

Time will tell whether a denomination that has, for the sake of ministry cooperation, agreed to disagree on women’s ordination and charismatic practices can maintain the same posture on LGBTQ issues or if it will amend its constitution to address same-sex attracted clergy.

Unity in essentials

The EPC was founded more than four decades ago by a group of about 20 churches concerned with liberal drift in the Northern Presbyterian Church (then officially known as the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America). Three points of concern for EPC founders were growing acceptance of homosexual ordination, questioning by some Northern Presbyterians of Jesus’ deity, and a push to force acceptance of female pastors.

The EPC’s attempted resolution of those concerns was a Presbyterian church where all leaders affirm a list of “essentials,” including the infallibility of Scripture, the deity of Christ, and the necessity of evangelism. The EPC also affirms the Westminster Confession of Faith, but in a looser way that acknowledges “that it contains the system of doctrine taught by the Bible” and allows ministers to disagree on some points.

Both complementarians and egalitarians are welcome in the EPC, as are Presbyterians with differing views on charismatic practices. A range of views on creation (from young-earth creationism to theistic evolution) and the Sabbath (from strict Sabbatarianism to a more permissive take on the Sabbath) also prevail in the EPC.

“The tension exists between those who may stress more the essential tenets of the EPC and those who may stress more the Westminster Confession in the EPC,” said EPC stated clerk Dean Weaver. Some EPC members “are Evangelical with a capital E and reformed with a small r, and there are some who are Reformed with a capital R and perhaps evangelical with a small e.”

So far, the arrangement has succeeded. By 2008, the EPC had grown to 77,794 members. Five years later, it jumped to 134,833. Last year, it reported 125,870 members, making it the third-largest Presbyterian denomination in America, behind the mainline Presbyterian Church (USA) with just over 1 million members and the more conservative PCA with nearly 400,000 members.

The EPC’s membership leveled off somewhat in recent years, dropping 15 percent since 2018. The leveling off was due in part, Weaver said, to “unhealthy” congregations that transferred in from the PCUSA between 2008 and 2018 and subsequently closed. Yet “modest growth post-COVID” has included a 7.4 percent increase in adult baptisms and a push for church planting.

Most EPC growth has come through churches transferring from the PCUSA.

“A lot of us are refugees from the PCUSA, including myself, and we have watched the PCUSA swing extremely liberal,” said Carolyn Poteet, lead pastor of Mt. Lebanon Evangelical Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh.

But some growth has come from PCA congregations leaving over women’s roles in ministry.

Among those is Hope Evangelical Presbyterian Church in Columbus, Ohio. After a “discernment period,” Hope has opened deacon nominations to women. It has yet to decide whether it will permit female elders. Pastor Joe Haack says his congregation can thrive in a denomination with the EPC’s vision.

“We want the essentials. We want to have those nailed down,” Haack said. But “for the sake of mission, we think liberty in nonessentials is so key.”

Yet as the two-year study on human sexuality proceeds, EPC observers are asking whether the denomination will continue to agree on what constitutes a nonessential.

An uncertain future

During floor debate at the General Assembly, an Ohio pastor said the sexuality study will not help the EPC advance its agendas of unity or doctrinal fidelity.

“Although this compromise seems reasonable on its face, it’s not a real compromise,” said Joseph Yerger, pastor of Mansfield First Evangelical Presbyterian Church in Mansfield, Ohio. Consequences of approving the study committee “will include and must include, out of a false sense of fairness and charity, an active and positive consideration to support the possibility of the socially influenced, theologically erroneous position commonly called Side B Christianity, as promoted by the Revoice conference.”

An open letter written by Fortson and two EPC elders, Nate Atwood and Rufus Burton, takes a similar line. It argues people who “identify as homosexual,” even if they “claim to practice celibacy in that self-identification,” should be “disqualified from holding office” in the EPC.

In support of its position, the letter cites Scripture, the Westminster Standards, and “lessons from mainline Presbyterian history on the ordination of celibate homosexuals.” To date, more than 370 Evangelical Presbyterians have signed the letter.

Atwood calls the denomination’s discussion of homosexuality “doing theology in real time,” akin to Protestant Reformers like Martin Luther and John Calvin. He worries that permitting people who identify as homosexual to be ordained may unintentionally deny the Reformation doctrine of sola Scriptura, replacing the Bible’s call to repent of sinful desires with cultural accommodation.

“I agree with the critique of the conservative church that we have exhibited a kind of hostility to the LGBTQ community that has really hampered our witness,” said Atwood, pastor of St. Giles Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, North Carolina. “And I think there is some repenting to do with regard to our temperament and our attitude.” But “will we compromise the gospel,” which calls for repentance from sinful actions and “desires of the heart”?

Others say the EPC sexuality study is in keeping with the denomination’s vision. The compromise that led to the study committee was “a beautiful moment” and “what the EPC is all about,” said Poteet, chairman of the EPC committee that recommended the study. “Let’s figure out a way to be thoughtful and nuanced and submitted to Christ and submitted to Scripture and do this together.”

Evangelical Presbyterians agree that “sexual expression needs to be either celibacy outside of marriage or a marriage between a man and a woman,” she said. The question is whether a pastor can say of same-sex attraction, This is part of my experience, but I am living submitted to God.

Burton, stated clerk of the New River Presbytery in North Carolina, Virginia, and West Virginia, is optimistic about the study, even though he opposes ordination of celibate homosexuals.

He said during floor debate on the two-year study that it “is an answer to the prayers of the leadership team of the New River Presbytery.” It “will clarify our witness and bring our constitution and documents into greater conformity with the gospel.”

Still, it’s far from certain that studying Side B Christianity for two years will produce the desired result.

“I’ve been in the denomination for 10 years,” Poteet said, “and this is the closest I’ve seen it to not working. That was a little bit scary.”

David Roach is a freelance reporter for CT and pastor of Shiloh Baptist Church in Saraland, Alabama.

This article has been updated to correct the location of the New River Presbytery and clarify the PCA vote.

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News

Christian Billionaire Found Guilty of Massive Wall Street Fraud

Emily Belz in New York

In a case that alluded to the investor’s faith, a federal jury convicted Bill Hwang of market manipulation and defrauding banks.

Bill Hwang arrives at Manhattan federal court on July 10.

Michael M. Santiago / Getty Images

Supporters of Christian investor and philanthropist Bill Hwang closed their eyes and prayed in federal court as they waited for a verdict on a case accusing him of massive Wall Street fraud. Hwang himself, serene throughout the proceedings, read a Bible devotional and took notes in the margins—a practice he had done throughout the trial—as he awaited the jury’s ruling.

On Wednesday, a jury found Hwang, at one time one of the wealthiest evangelicals in the US, guilty of manipulating the stock market and defrauding banks. It is one of the biggest cases of Wall Street fraud in terms of dollar amount, with banks losing $10 billion after he and his firm lied to them.

It is the crashing conclusion of a unique institution: Hwang’s Archegos Capital Management, a Christian investment firm that was named for a Greek word used to describe Christ as the “author” of our salvation (Heb. 2:10) and the “prince” of life (Acts 3:15). While Hwang’s defense team had argued that his aggressive trading at Archegos was within the bounds of normal Wall Street practice, the jury found he and his team were guilty of defrauding banks of billions and artificially pumping up stock prices.

The jury found him guilty of 10 of 11 counts. He was guilty of racketeering, securities fraud, market manipulation, and wire fraud. He was found not guilty on one count of market manipulation regarding one particular stock.

When Archegos collapsed in March 2021, the firm lost $36 billion, banks lending to Archegos lost $10 billion, and about $100 billion in market value disappeared.

Hwang’s Christian faith was woven into the long federal trial, featuring witnesses from Hwang’s Christian foundation Grace and Mercy as well as references to his Christian philanthropy. The jury heard the case before a courtroom that was consistently full of Hwang’s Christian supporters in New York—a feat of endurance over eight weeks when no phones were allowed in the courtroom and the technical subject matter was making even the jury sleepy.

Evidence in the trial alluded to the shared faith at the firm.

As the fund’s collapse was beginning in March 2021, Andy Mills, top brass at Archegos and a former president of The King’s College, a Christian college in New York, sent an email to another Archegos leader. “Pray that the markets rise tomorrow,” he wrote, according to documents from the prosecution.

“The point at which your business plan requires divine intervention is the point at which you have a solvency problem,” said prosecutor Andrew Mark Thomas in closing arguments, according to Bloomberg.

The defense initially intended to call Mills as a witness, but he did not end up testifying.

In the trial, the defense tried to refer to Hwang’s faith and his philanthropy as a way of highlighting his humble non–Wall Street ways, but the judge limited references to his personal devotion as irrelevant to a case of market manipulation.

The government’s case was that Archegos borrowed billions from banks on false pretenses and used that money to buy up large positions in a few companies, pumping up the prices artificially. The defense argued that Hwang genuinely believed in the companies he invested billions in, and that he wasn’t trying to defraud the banks but simply pursuing an aggressive trading strategy.

On Wednesday, as the jury members filed into court with their verdict, US Attorney Damian Williams slipped into the back of the courtroom—showing how seriously the Department of Justice took this case.

The jury in this case did not know this, but Hwang’s previous hedge fund, Tiger Asia, had pleaded guilty to a fraud charge in 2012. Tiger Asia was converted to Archegos in 2013.

The government’s case against Hwang centered on testimony from star witnesses Scott Becker and William Tomita, both former Hwang deputies at Archegos who had pleaded guilty and cooperated with prosecutors. Both Tomita and Becker said that when Archegos collapsed, Hwang offered them roles at his $528 million Grace and Mercy Foundation, which supports Christian ministries around the world.

Archegos and Grace and Mercy shared the same floor of office space—with a conference room to host regular lunchtime public reading of Scripture, a Hwang initiative. Some Archegos employees worked at both entities doing investments.

Grace and Mercy faces a lawsuit related to Archegos’s collapse, but it is not affected by this ruling. It has been operating normally since Archegos closed.

Another witness for the prosecution was Fernanda Piedra, a top Archegos employee who became the compliance officer for Grace and Mercy. The prosecution asked her to testify about the fund’s final days.

Tomita’s testimony undercut the defense’s image of Hwang as a humble Christian investor. He portrayed Hwang as an angry boss, yelling at traders if they took bathroom breaks. He testified that Hwang had lied to the banks that Archegos was borrowing billions from.

Prosecutors showed the jury Bloomberg Terminal messages, recorded phone calls, and charts upon charts depicting the links between Archegos’s buying practices and the movement of particular stock prices. When Archegos was on a buying spree of GSX, a Chinese educational technology company, in 2020 and 2021, the stock reached a price of more than $100 a share. It is now trading at $5 a share.

“Throughout my training at the company, I had been taught by Bill when necessary to give misleading pictures about the fund and its positions,” Tomita testified, according to Bloomberg.

Hwang, 60, faces the possibility of spending the rest of his life in prison and his sentencing is set for October 28. He will be free pending sentencing on a $100 million bond.

- More from Emily Belz

Culture

Jesus Will Speak in 100 Tongues, Thanks to Man Who Helped Disney’s Elsa Sing in 41 Languages

Interview by Giselle Seidel

Rick Dempsey explains how his decades of localization expertise is being applied to The Chosen.

Rick Dempsey (center)

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: The Chosen / Pinkton / Getty

In 2014, Disney released a video of Elsa singing her hit “Let It Go” in 25 languages. If you didn’t know any better, you might have assumed that Idina Menzel, who sang perhaps the most popular Disney ballad in history, had performed each version.

Significant credit for this House of Mouse magic belongs to Rick Dempsey, who then served as senior vice president of creative for Disney Character Voices International. Dempsey’s team held auditions all over the world, ultimately finding the dozens of singers who brought the music of Frozen alive in their languages.

The goal was “to ensure there is character consistency” and that “the voices are all very similar around the world,” Dempsey said in 2014. “The good news is that we were able to find talent that were able to pull it off.”

This impressive consistency, or “character integrity,” is a concept and practice that The Walt Disney Company embraced and expanded nearly to the point of perfection, thanks to Dempsey’s work. Today, he brings this expertise to The Chosen, the most-translated TV show in history.

CT recently spoke with Dempsey about his transition from Disney, the arduous process of translation and localization, and how The Chosen is connecting with unreached people groups and places where sharing the gospel can cost people their lives.

This interview was edited for clarity and length.

Tell us about your 35-year-long career at Disney.

I started with Disney in 1988 and led character voices for the whole company. My job was to protect character integrity, which means that when the movie characters are adapted to connect with local audiences, they remain consistent across the languages. I think it is a unique responsibility to have in a secular company like Disney, because as believers, that’s similar to what we’re called to do with our own lives, that is, to maintain our Christian integrity wherever we go.

As the company grew internationally, Disney began to translate its work and sought to guarantee consistency and integrity with character voices in theme parks and consumer products, as well as our films, around the world. For the last 20 years of my career there, I led this and was also in charge of running the entire international localization for Disney, including Pixar, Marvel, Lucasfilm and, as I was leaving, the Fox brand as well. I had a great run there.

You mentioned that you are in charge of localization, but not everyone knows what that means. Could you elaborate?

A lot of people would refer to that as translation, but we call it localization because there’s so much more to it than just translating a script. Localization means trying to get the nuances of the dialogue—it’s an idiomatic adaptation of the original content, meaning we are trying to get the local idioms and phrases and colloquialisms of a language into the dialogue, just like we have done in the original language.

How did you connect with The Chosen?

By the time we came back from the pandemic, I realized that my time had run out. Disney, as we all know, has taken a different turn in terms of family entertainment. I realized that my time was up there, so I retired from the company and kind of jumped off without a parachute.

Literally, right after I decided to retire, Come and See (the nonprofit that manages The Chosen’sfunding) was trying to figure out how to get the show out around the world, and someone in a meeting said, “I think I know a guy.” So they texted me and said, “Would you be interested in working on The Chosen and taking it out around the world, as you’ve done with all of Disney’s content?” I said, “Absolutely.” It didn’t take a lot of thought. Soon after, I started my own production company and began consulting on The Chosen.

Lately, numerous media companies have been pushing for more AI-assisted translations. From doing predominantly literal word-for-word translations, AI has come a long way producing more natural translations. Do you think AI will ever be able to do the job of localization?

Right now, for many languages, we are at what I call an 80-20 model that is 80 percent AI, 20 percent human. I think we will get to a point where AI will get a pretty good idea of how to do translation, but we will always need to tweak it with some human touches.

I’m sure someone can churn out an AI script for a film. But it’s gonna be very sterile. There’s something about the human emotion that we will never get from AI—you have to have that human touch to make it resonate and to make it real.

In The Chosen, there are colloquialisms and certain key terms and phrases that AI doesn’t necessarily understand. Because of the scale—we are translating into 600 languages—we will need to implement some type of AI to help along the way. However, there are many underserved markets where we don’t have a lot of data or information on that language within the AI world, so everything there will have to be human effort.

Are there elements or characteristics of The Chosen that make it particularly hard to localize?

Definitely. Every colloquial phrase or idiom used in English is a challenge to ensure a good translation. We also have to figure out how to communicate biblical and Jewish phrases. Even some of the Roman government titles are difficult to translate at times.

Additionally, the casting of the actors who voice Jesus has proven to be quite difficult in some markets. Jonathan Roumie’s voice has a very pure, full tone, with very little texture, yet it is not deep or resonant. The voice needs to be authoritative and commanding while still being compassionate and loving. He doesn’t sound young, and yet he doesn’t sound too old—strong early 30s. Finding all those attributes in one actor is extremely difficult, and we’ve found it can take several rounds of auditions before we can find someone close enough to play this central character.

Gaius is another difficult character. The English actor Kirk Woller has a very textured, mid-to-higher range voice. He is somewhat gentle in his approach to the character and yet he has governmental authority. Most countries start out by making him sound real gruff and forceful. It will often take several auditions to find someone who understands the gentle side of the character.

We understand that the end goal of The Chosen is to share the gospel, and that’s a task Jesus entrusted to his followers. To what extent have you been intentional in trying to find Christian people to do the localization process?

We are working with people who have a heart to get the story of Jesus out around the world in a really significant way. We have countries where the gospel is not allowed, but believers there are passionate to get The Chosen into their country.

We had an instance where someone who loves the show reached out from a country that is religiously oppressed. She would be imprisoned if caught even discussing the show. But now we are working with her to create subtitles in that language. She literally has to leave the country to make any kind of communication with us. This is another tremendous story of someone taking incredible risk to try and use The Chosen as a gospel opportunity to reach an entire people group who have not been exposed to the story of Jesus.

We make sure our translators are Christian believers, but that’s not a requirement for voice actors. And specifically in Muslim communities, we’ve had actors walk out on us once they understand the material and the subject of the show. Dubbing has been a real challenge in parts of the world where they’re very anti-Christian.

But God is in control. In one of those countries, one of our subject matter experts is a converted Muslim who now holds a doctorate degree in Hebrew and Judaic studies. He’s an incredible resource for us.

You mentioned the current goal is to have The Chosen available in 600 languages, and that’s truly a massive challenge. Some languages have hundreds of millions of speakers across entire continents, some far fewer and concentrated in a small region. How are you addressing these differences?

Well, yes. We estimate around 100 will be dubbed and subtitled, and another 500 will only be subtitled.

We are dealing with languages in regions like France, Italy, Germany, Spain, Japan, Latin America, Russia, Eastern Europe, where they have well-structured dubbing communities: translators, voice actors, recording studios. But we’re just now getting to those languages where we are starting to deal with underserved markets, and it’s proving to be a real challenge.

We’re getting into territory where people have never heard a dub in their own language. Some of those will just be subtitled languages because they just don’t have the infrastructure to put something the size of the media project that is The Chosen into their local language.

And it’s important to say we are doing all the translations and dubbing in the market itself, in the region where the language is spoken. That’s the only way it can be done, in my opinion. That’s the way we did it at Disney, because I believe working locally is the only way it will resonate with local audiences. You need the idioms and colloquialisms of the people of that market.

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Theology

Artistic Humility in the Age of ‘Hot AI Jesus’

Matthew J. Milliner

As digital enticements proliferate, Michelangelo and the apostle Paul teach us to seek humbler, faithful art forms.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch Tlapek / Source Images: Getty / Unsplash / WikiMedia Commons

Why pray alone or with your family if you can pray with big-biceped celebrities on the Hallow app? Why limit yourself to reading or hearing the Gospels if you can have a Jesus with all the thrill and appeal of a bingeable Netflix series? Why cultivate the Ignatian prayer skill of active imagination when you can passively experience an immersive exhibit that brings a storm on the Sea of Galilee to life?

Why be satisfied with an ordinary church when you can digitally tour Europe’s greatest cathedrals or listen to famous preachers comfortably at home? Or why settle for traditional depictions of Jesus or figures from the Bible and church history when images of what The Atlantic dubbed “hot AI Jesus” and hot AI saints now proliferate online?

These are but some of the questions posed by our digital era’s dizzying accelerations, and Christians best have an answer. Here, I’ll focus on the artificial intelligence renderings of Jesus and explore how the example of history’s greatest Christian artist, Michelangelo, can help us resist the enticements of artificial devotion.

The easiest response to AI Jesus is to say that the iconoclasts—the Christian icon-breakers who warned against or outright destroyed devotional images in eighth-century Byzantium and sixteenth-century Europe—have been vindicated at last. An AI-generated image like shrimp Jesus is surely enough to cause some to hope that a modern equivalent of Oliver Cromwell’s stained glass–smashing soldiers will soon ride again.

Modern iconoclasts would argue that churches should be clean and imageless, an ever more necessary weekly cleansing of our digitally exhausted visual palette. This is venerable and ancient counsel. “When you are praying,” wrote the fourth-century desert father Evagrius of Pontus, “do not fancy the Divinity like some image formed within yourself. Avoid also allowing your spirit to be impressed with the seal of some particular shape, but rather, free from all matter, draw near to the immaterial Being and you will attain to understanding.” In other words, delete the app.

AI-Generated Image by CT / Midjourney / Facebook

CT created hot AI Jesus (left) inspired by the social media trend on Facebook (right).

Another answer—from the iconophile, or image-loving one—would embrace these new developments wholeheartedly, channeling them to positive effect. Arguably, this was Michelangelo’s approach. As his career began, visually arresting classical sculptures were being dug up from the ground, prompting in many a crisis of faith: Had Christianity brought such visual splendor to a premature end?

Michelangelo’s early sculptures answered with a resounding no, showing that Christian art could be just as beautiful as that of the classical world, or even more so. Perhaps, we should take a similar approach to the new medium of AI, both embracing and exceeding what the world offers us today.

I tried that strategy myself, spending months using AI trying to resurrect a lost African saint in AI-generated icons. It left me cold. Truth be told, the strategy of total embrace left Michelangelo cold as well. “So the affectionate fantasy, that made art an idol and sovereign to me,” he wrote in a late sonnet in the 1550s, “I now clearly see was laden with error, like all things men want in spite of their best interests.”

WikiMedia Commons

The classical statue of Laocoön, unearthed in 1506, and one example of Michelangelo’s alluring Christian responses, Cristo della Minerva (1519–1521).

But that disillusion with cultural production doesn’t necessarily mean the iconoclasts win the argument. Michelangelo did not give up art completely. He instead returned with new intensity to a lifelong interest in the simpler and purer aesthetic of ancient Christian icons, which on several occasions he attempted to replicate or echo. One art historian convincingly argues that Michelangelo aimed to “preserve traditions of religious imagery at a time when artistic developments threatened their integrity and dominance,” and that—I believe—should also be our strategy today.

Michelangelo also actively undermined the visual techniques he had mastered. Influenced by Reformation doctrines of grace, Michelangelo’s last works are deliberately impoverished. You can see this shift in the contrast between his first and more famous Pietà, made when he was in his early 20s, and the Rondanini Pietà, executed when he was in his 80s. In the first, a larger than life, impossibly youthful Mary holds Jesus; in the deliberately rough and unfinished second, Jesus—even in his death—appears to be upholding the appropriately aged Mary.

WikiMedia Commons

Michelangelo’s Entombment (1500–1501) and the humble ancient icon (1405) that helped inspire it.

Michelangelo’s trust in ancient, humbler art forms and his deliberate embrace of visual poverty helped him navigate the tumultuous 16th century, and it can help us navigate our own time as well. Deluged with AI’s slick and sexually suggestive images of Jesus, we can benefit from the wisdom of faithful iconoclasts without abandoning devotional images completely.

Like Michelangelo, we can choose to make and contemplate Christian images that are humble, perhaps unimpressive but deliberately and faithfully so. We can seek art that does not dazzle our earthly senses but defers to heavenly realities. Owing to the fact that the current “data sets these [AI] tools are trained on are biased toward hotness,” the new tools are unlikely to help. We do better to embrace images that pronounce their poverty, images that say, like John the Baptist, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30, KJV).

Michelangelo’s example teaches us to be suspicious of concocted visual greatness. Even if machines can now sculpt as well as he could, the lesson of Michelangelo’s final years remains the same: Christian images, insofar as they deserve the name Christian, should be deliberately restrained, for their purpose is not to attract attention or glory but to turn our eyes toward Christ. The traditional canon of Orthodox icons, more affordable now than ever, still does this remarkably well.

WikiMedia Commons

Michelangelo’s early Pietà (1498–99) and his late Rondanini Pietà (1564).

Faced with its own bewildering array of eloquent preachers and visually immersive pagan shrines, the ancient church asked questions like the ones with which I began. The apostle Paul’s answer was candid, even blunt: “I did not come with eloquence or human wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God,” he wrote to the Corinthian church. “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness” (1 Cor. 2:1–3).

In this and the testimony of Michelangelo, then, I see a simple rule for sifting this fresh round of visual enchantments: Never trust an image—or a savior—without wounds.

Matthew J. Milliner is a professor of art history at Wheaton College. He is author most recently of Mother of the Lamb: The Story of a Global Icon.

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News

Republican Party Backs Away from Pro-Life Stance in New Platform

Harvest Prude

Evangelicals oppose Donald Trump’s shift to leave abortion policy up to the states.

(Photo by OLIVIER DOULIERY/AFP via Getty Images)

The new Republican National Convention platform endorsed by Donald Trump is missing the strong pro-life stance evangelicals have come to expect from the GOP.

Instead of calling for a concerted national push to curtail abortion, as the official party platform has done for the past 40 years, the new document removes that language and deems the matter best left to individual states to decide.

Even evangelical leaders who had been split over Trump have joined together in a chorus of criticism and disappointment.

“A moment when the abortion industry has been knocked on its heels is no time to shrink from a full-throated commitment to protecting preborn lives,” Brent Leatherwood, president of the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC)’s Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, told Politico.

He wrote for Religion News Service that Republicans’ actions suggest they see abortion as “too politically fraught and prefer to run from a defense of the sanctity of life altogether.”

Clint Pressley, a North Carolina megachurch pastor who has recently been elected SBC president, wrote on social media that he is “disheartened” by national Republicans.

“The GOP platform may be subject to change, but God’s word is not,” he said. “Southern Baptists ‘contend for the sanctity of all human life from conception to natural death’ and will insist that elected officials do the same.”

The change in the proposed Republican platform reflects a shift toward Trump’s stance on the issue. He’s carved out a middle-of-the-road approach while on the campaign trail, saying the issue should be left to the discretion of the states. During the recent presidential debate, he also voiced support for the Supreme Court’s decision upholding access to the abortion drug mifepristone.

The life issue has been viewed by some on the right as an electoral liability since the high court overturned Roe v. Wade, which conferred a constitutional right to an abortion, in its 2022 Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision. Congressional Republicans have also distanced themselves from support for a national abortion ban, according to NOTUS reporter Haley Byrd Wilt.

The new platform document takes a softened approach on many social issues and is less detailed overall on exact policies than previous versions. The platform reflects key campaign issues for Trump, such as addressing inflation, calling for tariffs on trade, and a tough stance on immigration that, while light on specifics, calls for mass deportations.

In 2020, Republicans chose not to write a new party platform, merely carrying over the 2016 platform. For the past two campaign cycles, the platform devoted over 700 words to abortion and the life issue. It endorsed the “sanctity of human life,” weighed in on policy specifics such as congressional legislation and court decisions, and pledged that the GOP would seek a federal abortion ban that limited the procedure after 20 weeks gestation.

In contrast, the considerably pared-down platform for 2024 gives the issue 110 words. The new platform argues that the 14th Amendment, which says that states may not deprive any person the right to life, liberty, or property without due process, means “the states are, therefore, free to pass laws protecting those rights.”

The document goes on to voice opposition to “late term abortion”—the only time the word abortion is used—and says the Republican Party will support policies that support mothers and prenatal care, as well as access to birth control and in vitro fertilization (IVF).

“This is pro-choice language, in keeping with Trump’s pro-choice position. The sleight of hand is that it seems to claim the 14th Amendment applies to the unborn. But if the GOP believes that’s true, then the federal government, not just the states, has a duty to protect life,” wrote Joe Carter, in a piece for The Gospel Coalition. “The platform does no such thing. It gives broad support for IVF (even when it causes the death of a child) and only lists opposition to late-term abortion.”

On Monday, the platform committee approved the new document behind closed doors in an 84–18 vote. The New York Times also reported that Trump was laser focused on watering down the language on abortion.

Family Research Council president Tony Perkins, who was a member of the platform committee, called the process “choreographed” in a statement and said it allowed for “no amendments to be discussed and voted upon.”

He said that delegates had to vote on the platform the same day they received it, without sufficient review time, and were only afforded a few minutes for discussion before the vote was taken.

Perkins is among a group on the platform committee that submitted a minority report arguing for stronger language on the abortion issue. The report calls for the addition of a “human life amendment,” arguing for language that better reflects the long-standing GOP position on abortion.

Family Research Council is also part of a recently launched initiative called the Platform Integrity Project, which seeks to preserve a strong stance on the “pro-life, pro-family, and pro-freedom” elements of the GOP platform.

It’s unclear whether delegates like Perkins will have a chance to address the issue at next week’s Republican National Convention in Milwaukee, where the platform will be adopted.

In past years, Republican activists have been able to shape the party’s platform in ways that at times deviated from the presumptive nominee’s own statements. But that process has changed during the Trump years. The Wall Street Journal reported that, this year, Trump edited the document prior to its presentation to the platform committee.

Some pro-life activists refrained from criticizing the new platform. Marjorie Dannenfelser, president of Susan B. Anthony Pro-Life America, said in a statement that “it is important that the GOP reaffirmed its commitment to protect unborn life today through the 14th Amendment. … The Republican Party remains strongly pro-life at the national level.”

The platform also dropped language condemning the Supreme Court’s 2015 Obergefell v. Hodges decision that legalized same-sex marriage and omitted references to “traditional marriage.”

It instead addresses transgender issues at several points: “We will keep men out of women’s sports, ban taxpayer funding for sex change surgeries, and stop taxpayer-funded schools from promoting gender transition, reverse Biden’s radical rewrite of Title IX education regulations, and restore protections for women and girls,” the document reads.

“Any effort to weaken the Republican Party’s commitment to life and marriage would be a mistake,” Missouri GOP Sen. Josh Hawley said.

“On abortion, many states are becoming a black hole for the most vulnerable. Donald Trump won the 2016 election on the GOP’s most pro-life platform in US history. It’s both bad politics and wrong morally to weaken the party’s commitment to the most vulnerable,” Aaron Baer, president of the Ohio-based Center for Christian Virtue, told CT.

“For all those consoling themselves that the GOP is still better than the alternative on abortion, keep in mind that being a little less pro-choice than the Democrats is not a pro-life position,” Southern Baptist Theological Seminary professor Denny Burk commented.

In an article for World, Burk wrote that “pro-lifers understood the deal they were making in 2016 when they turned out to vote for the Republican candidate,” referencing Trump’s pledge to appoint justices that would overturn Roe v. Wade.

“But now it looks as if Trump is altering the deal for his possible second term—a deal that has eviscerated the pro-life plank of the Republican Party platform,” Burk wrote.

The economy tends to be the top priority for American voters, though many pastors list a candidate's position on abortion and religious freedom as top factors in their vote.

Some social conservatives see the change as frustrating to the point where they’re considering withdrawing their support for Trump altogether.

“Dear GOP, I’ve said for years that I won’t vote for any politician, or support any party, that doesn’t stand fully against abortion from conception until birth. That’s not going to change in 2024,” Greg Gilbert, pastor of Third Avenue Baptist Church in Louisville, said on the social platform X. “How many voters like me are you comfortable losing?”

- More from Harvest Prude

News

Iranian Christians Question Reformist Credentials of New President

Jayson Casper

Heart surgeon Masoud Pezeshkian takes the helm of the Islamic Republic, having campaigned for ethnic and religious minorities while pledging to reach out to the West.

Newly-elected Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian (center) speaks during a visit to a shrine.

Majid Saeedi / Stringer / Getty

The surprise election in Iran of the sole reformist candidate for president was met with an unsurprising reaction from the United States.

Heart surgeon Masoud Pezeshkian tallied 53 percent of the vote for a clear but narrow victory over hard-line former nuclear negotiator Saeed Jalili in an electoral process the State Department labeled “not free or fair.”

It followed the May 19 death of the previous president in a helicopter crash.

With “no expectation [of] fundamental change,” the perspective from Washington echoed that of Javaid Rehman, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Situation of Human Rights in Iran. The Pakistani-British lawyer stated that a new president is unlikely to improve the Islamic Republic’s record.

Iranian Christian sources in the diaspora agree.

“The result highlights a superficial change in leadership,” said Robert Karami, an Iranian Church of England pastor outside London and a board member of Release International, a UK-based advocate for the persecuted church. “It does not matter who holds the presidential office as long as the Supreme Leader remains in power.”

Pezeshkian, age 69, was one of six candidates permitted to run by Iran’s 12-member Guardian Council, appointed by head of state Grand Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Dozens of candidates were disqualified, including former president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Analysts speculated the inclusion of Pezeshkian was intended to increase voter turnout—but if so, the strategy initially failed and may have backfired.

Only 40 percent of the electorate participated in the first round held on June 28, the lowest tally since the 1979 Iranian revolution. It resulted in the first runoff since 2005, leading to a hostile campaign in which leading figures claimed Jalili would rule Iran like the Taliban in Afghanistan. Voters partially responded, as election day on July 5 witnessed an increased turnout of 50 percent.

But not Mansour Borji, who boycotted the diaspora ballot stations in the UK.

“I participated in the election by not voting, joining the majority who said no to the Islamic Republic,” said the director of Iranian religious freedom advocacy organization Article18. “Nor could I bring myself to do so on the 30th anniversary of pastors killed by the regime.”

July 5 marked the anniversary of when the last of the three victims—two of whom were Assemblies of God leaders—was identified in 1994.

Borji said that many Iranian Christians likely breathed a “sigh of relief” that Jalili did not win. His campaign called for strict adherence to Islamic law amid continued confrontation with the West while deepening ties with Russia and China. But as Pezeshkian has acknowledged that foreign policy is in the hands of Khamenei, Borji saw “little difference” between the two candidates.

Both had pledged to improve the economy, which has been in a tailspin since 2018 when Donald Trump unilaterally pulled the US out of the nuclear deal that limited Iran’s uranium enrichment in exchange for relief from sanctions. At the time the accord was signed under then–US president Barack Obama, the US dollar equaled 32,000 Iranian rials; it now trades for more than 600,000 rials.

Pezeshkian, however, linked improving the economy to negotiations with the US over sanctions, and would unilaterally return Iran’s nuclear program to compliance with the terms of the original deal. His candidacy was endorsed by Mohammad Zarif, the diplomat who forged the nuclear deal with the US and is speculated to return to his post.

Other indicators led Western press to accept Pezeshkian’s “reformist” label. Born to an Azeri father and Kurdish mother, he is the first president in decades to hail from Iran’s west, a region considered more tolerant due to its many minority populations—which he promised to represent. He counted “those who do not pray” among his supporters. And he struck a unique figure as a single father campaigning with his daughter at his side, never remarrying after the death of his wife in a 1994 car accident.

Pezeshkian also said he would resist hijab enforcement and internet restrictions.

But Borji and Karami, the UK pastor, both cited Pezeshkian’s history as a guardian of Iranian patriarchy. As head of the medical team at the Tabriz hospital, he reduced the number of female students and staff. He also imposed the wearing of the hijab there before it was legally mandatory, and during his 14-year parliamentary tenure he supported the legislation to make it so.

Pezeshkian unsuccessfully ran for president in 2013 and 2021, and may have adjusted his beliefs—or at least his rhetoric. He criticized the 2022 crackdown on demonstrators that killed 500 people and detained 22,000 others following the death in custody of Mahsa Amini, who had violated the hijab law. He even stated it was “scientifically impossible” to implement religious faith through force.

But Karami said he also called the protests beneficial for the enemies of Iran.

“Pezeshkian projects an image of modernity and reform,” he said. “But most Iranians view his ascension as a strategic maneuver by the Supreme Leader to buy time and appease the West.”

Borji agreed, calling the election a “circus” to garner legitimacy for Iran.

“Pezeshkian may be a heart surgeon,” he said. “But he doesn’t have the power or strategy to win over the hearts of the majority.”

Heart change, however, is the necessary solution, said Nathan Rostampour.

“My only hope for Iran is Jesus Christ,” said the Persian ministry director for Summit Church in North Carolina and a trustee of the Southern Baptist Convention’s International Mission Board. “There are no real reformists in the system, anyway—they are all in prison.”

Rostampour said that Iran’s local church must focus on the Great Commission, emphasize discipleship, and become shining examples of the love of God through social service. Traditional reform is impossible, as the regime controls everything.

And it continues to persecute Christians. Last year, 166 followers of Christ were arrested, one-third of whom were involved in Bible distribution. And while Pezeshkian has made overtures to Iran’s ethnic and religious minorities, especially Sunni Muslims, will he—or can he—advance religious freedom for converts from Islam?

One survey finds Iranian Christians now number almost 1 million.

“While Pezeshkian’s win is ostensibly a victory for reform, it ultimately signifies little in the broader context of Iranian politics,” said Karami. “Until the power structure is fundamentally changed, the future for Christians remains bleak.”

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