At a reunion of our seminary's class of 1965, I talked to pastors who grieve that they have not left the mainline church better than they found it. They were faithful to their moment, but that moment blew away.
In Terry Eagleton's compelling narrative, three plotlines run concurrently: a parade of ideas from the Enlightenment to the present, a sustained argument about the role of culture, and a burlesque apologetic for Christianity.
Fifty-two years ago, eight white clergy penned their version of “all lives matter.” These white men of God questioned the efficacy of the civil rights movement in their hometown of Birmingham, Alabama. They wrote that "honest convictions in racial matters could properly be pursued in the courts.”
Plenty of scholars have discussed interfaith relations in medieval Spain. What makes David Nirenberg's book distinctive is his emphasis on how each religion's self-image was shaped by its portrayal of the others.
This past spring semester, I taught the book of Revelation at Faulkner University. Though I teach history at this Christian school in Alabama, this course wasn't primarily about historical interpretations of the text or American apocalyptic movements. It was a biblical exposition of a fascinating piece of literature.
Americans have been fascinated with Revelation for a long time.
When ISIS threatened last year to overthrow Baghdad, Andrew White, Anglican vicar of Baghdad, invited the leaders of ISIS to his place for dinner. ISIS responded by saying they’d accept White’s dinner invitation, but they’d chop off his head. He didn’t invite them again. White—who was raised Pentecostal, was trained as a doctor, and has multiple sclerosis—has engaged in mediation efforts in some of the riskiest places in the world. “If you want to make peace, you can’t just do it with the nice people. Nice people don’t cause the wars,” says White, who now lives in Jordan (Independent, November 2).