Amy Frykholm: Welcome back to In Search Of, where we go in search of voices and perspectives that inform and expand a life of faith. I'm Amy Frykholm and I'm your host for this season of In Search Of where we've gone in search of truth.
It's been more than a decade since comedian Stephen Colbert coined the term “truthiness” to describe the times that we find ourselves in.
[Clip from Stephen Colbert’s “The Word–Truthiness”]: Truthiness is, anyone can read the news to you. I promise to feel the news at you.
AF: Today, we're going to explore the contested realm of truth in journalism at a time of evolving norms and direct attacks on truth.
My guest today is The Christian Century’s own award-winning news editor, Dawn Araujo-Hawkins. She serves as vice-president for the Religious News Association and is part of a movement of young journalists working to shape journalism for a new era.
Welcome to In Search Of, Dawn.
Dawn Araujo-Hawkins: Thank you for having me.
AF: One of the questions that I've been asking to start us off on this podcast is, what were you in search of when you became a journalist who focused on religion?
DAH: I have always wanted to be a writer of some sort for basically as long as I can remember and it was in high school when I kind of settled on journalism specifically. That's what I wanted to do, and I actually wanted to be a fashion journalist when I went to college, like the goal was I was gonna be an editor at Harper's Bazaar and–
AF: Wow.
DAH: Yeah, I did not write my first religion story until I transferred from Michigan State to Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana. I'm a native Hoosier, I'm from Indiana and I was already like, I was a sophomore and a half. But Ball State is a much smaller school than Michigan State. It's a public school, but as a transfer student, I was kind of struck by the fact that there were so many religious groups for students and like no one else seemed to really question it. I guess people who had always been at Ball State. And I was just like what is this? And so the first religion story that I ever wrote was about why there were so many religious groups for students at Ball State. And I don't remember what the answer was, but that just kind of hooked me.
I, after that, started writing all sorts of religion stories for the various publications. Like some of the kind of usual stuff, like how students are observing various religious holidays on campus, you know, stuff like that. But also some more enterprise stories like how LGBTQ students did or did not feel welcome in all of those religious groups. I wrote a story about a missionary in Cambodia. Just all sorts of religious stories.
And I guess to answer your question of what I was in search of, it wasn't answers, because everyone talks about religion in their own way. The way I define religion, and I'm sure some sociologists will probably keel over and like tear their hair up when I say this, but the way I define religion for my purposes is how people view the universe and their role in it.
And I am endlessly fascinated by the way people talk about that. So I guess what I was in search of was conversation, hearing people talk about that. Like I said, I could talk about it all day, or at least listen–I'm an introvert so I could listen to people talk about it all day. And that's my job now. I sometimes cannot believe that that is my job to do that. I feel like I'm cheating the system somehow.
AF: I really resonate with that. And it seems like such an obvious thing, right? “What were you in search of?” Oh, the truth or you know, the answers, but no, in fact, it seems like you were in search of stories and one of the things that fascinates me about your work is how often you are looking for the stories of others, the stories of people who don't believe the way you do or don't see the world the way you do. Would you say that’s true?
DAH: Oh yeah, for sure. Yeah. I kind of feel sad sometimes–sad is probably not the right word, but… my freelance writing has kind of spanned in different religions and different denominations, but I've always been employed by Christian organizations and sometimes I feel like it's a constraint that even, I mean, individuals believe different things, but we're kind of all in the same playing field, and I kind of miss writing about other faiths.
AF: Would you also say that you are a religious journalist? And what's that journey been like?
DAH: Yeah. Um, yeah. The interesting thing about religion journalists though… I am a member of the Religion News Association and so I talk with a lot of other religion journalists on a fairly regular basis. And it's always surprising to me. There's a, you know, some people who are really, really passionate and interested in writing about religion, but are not personally religious. And then there are people who are personally religious. I am one of those people who is personally religious.
AF: And what has that been like?
DAH: On some level, you know, a journalist, your job is to report what happens kind of aside from what you think or feel about it. And we can talk a little bit later about how I've evolved a little bit on that. But I mean, you do your job, you know. You write about the things that happen regardless of, like, how you feel about them. But I would say for me personally as an adult convert to Anabaptism, and the ideas of peace and nonviolence as integral to following Jesus, and also as someone who is a big fan of Beatrice Bruteau–like The Holy Thursday Revolution, I think is the most important book I've ever read–and this idea that we are on the cusp of another evolution of consciousness, into a more Christ-like consciousness, that colors how I do my work.
What that has really looks like is me being drawn to some of the emerging movements in journalism, like peace journalism, which is a thing. I did not make that up. Although the Global Center for Peace Journalism is actually just down the street from my house at Park University. And the idea of how you do journalism, like the words that you use, the stories that you take or choose and how you edit that can either contribute to peace or not. Even if you're writing, I think especially if you're writing about a conflict or reporting on a conflict, that's something I'm very drawn to.
I'm very drawn to solutions journalism, which, again, is not just about only writing about happy things and pie-in-the-sky type stuff, but just this idea that a constantly negative news cycle, is not healthy for news consumers and it's definitely not healthy for the people who are creating that journalism because every time you're telling a story about trauma, you are internalizing that trauma, like to the point that you can then summarize it for other people to understand. And to just do that day in and day out is not healthy for anyone and I think is not in line with this evolution into Christ-like consciousness. And so I'm really drawn to solutions journalism as well, telling the stories of what does work, when those stories are there to be told.
I'm also really a big fan of the Conscious Style Guide, which kind of compiles the best and latest discussions on the most respectful and most caring way to talk about topics and people, and all of that stuff is colored by my personal religion. So yeah, even when I'm, you know, writing about something that maybe has nothing to do with Anabaptism, those are the things that I'm thinking about as I'm editing or writing or even just choosing what word to use.
AF: That is fascinating. And I wonder then if you could take that, what you've just described, and then put it into the context of truth, of the relationship between information and truth, between research and truth. Maybe you could give an example of a time when, that field of peace journalism, information, research, truth, where there was difficulty or struggle in figuring out how to put that all together.
DAH: Yeah, absolutely. So actually I will go back to 2014 ‘cause this is something I think about all the time and it really came to a head for me in 2014. I had just started my first full-time religion reporting job at Global Sisters Report, which is like the literal and figurative sister publication at the National Catholic Reporter. It's all about Catholic nuns.
And I started in May 2014 and then Michael Brown was killed in August 2014, and I have the most vivid memory of coming into work. He was actually killed on a Saturday, so it was like that Monday I came into work, ready to do just my job, like normal, and I sat at my desk and I could not move. Like I had this sense that before I did anything, I needed to decide what type of journalist I wanted to be and what objectivity meant in a country where Black people were under attack.
And I just had this gut sense that objectivity, which is, you know, what we've been taught in journalism school, like you have to be objective. You don't have an opinion about anything, and at least if you do, never share it. I had this sense that objectivity was not neutrality. And I think that a lot of younger journalists and journalists from historically marginalized communities have also come to the same conclusion. So it's not just me in my little bubble making this up.
But I had the sense that, you know, what I had been taught in journalism school and has kind of been the gold standard is that a journalist's job is just to report the facts and to be neutral. And like I said, I had the sense, like black people are attacked… like I can't be as a Black woman in the United States, let alone just a person, but as a Black woman, I can't be neutral about that. And that actually what the job of a journalist is, is to call a spade a spade. If something is racist, if it's homophobic, if it's xenophobic or whatever it is, it's our job to say that, if not outright explicitly, to at least provide the context, the data, the evidence to show that that is true and to be as explicit as we can about it.
And so what I have come to view objectivity is–cause I still, you know, I'm not just writing personal essays, I'm writing about the facts as they happen while trying to be transparent about the fact that I, a journalist, am also a human with thoughts and opinions. And if I'm wrong, you know, call me out on that for sure. But, I'm trying to do my job and be as accurate as possible.
But what objectivity is to me, is not pre-writing a narrative before you've done your reporting, and definitely not trying to then force what you find in your reporting to fit that narrative. So you might have an idea of this person's the villain in this story, and when you interview them, it turns out that's not the case. I think being objective means including all of that information and not suppressing what doesn't work for, you know, this narrative arc that you've created.
That's objectivity, but it does not mean necessarily being neutral, because sometimes the context is what makes the story true. You know, you can write just the facts about, you know, a person being gunned down by the police, but if you're not tying that into the larger context of how policing works in Black communities, that's not true.
And I think what I had been taught, like this objective, this neutrality, that's not not picking aside. That is being on the side of white supremacy and that's something that I cannot and will not do.
AF: What happened next? If you could say, like, you're sitting at your desk, it's 2014, Michael Brown has been killed, and you are working at the Global Sisters Report. How did you put those pieces together? What happened? What happened next for you?
DAH: I started writing about race quite a bit and it is not something I had really done before then, had not really been interested in. And a lot of Black journalists don't, like, they don't wanna be the race reporter in their newsroom, but I did. I felt like it was a moral mission, so I started writing about race and racism in religious congregations of women, religious nun congregations. And telling those stories, when something was racist, calling it racist.
And that was scary at first ‘cause it went against everything that I had been taught about what it meant to be a journalist. But I think now that it is a growing and emerging movement, like I said, among young journalists, journalists from other marginalized communities, that we’re all kind of in this together and questioning kind of these longstanding rules of journalism, like who created them and who were they created to protect? And like, that should give you some pause, when you, when you consider that, you know, not everyone has the luxury of being neutral when they are personally, they and their communities are under attack. And that has really kind of set the trajectory of my career in a way where I just write about race a lot more. And I am a lot more frank in my reporting than I think I had been. Less guarded, less careful… I don't want to say “not careful.” I'm always a careful reporter, but not afraid to call a spade a spade.
I saw this quote from Audre Lord, which is, I'm not really on Twitter right now, but it is my Twitter header if you see it. But it's “I am deliberate and afraid of nothing.” And that is really my mantra in covering stories. Like I am not afraid of people being angry at me for reporting on something that is, I guess, unpleasant. I tried to be deliberate, diligent, careful, and accurate. And I stand by that. I'm not afraid of being bullied, I guess, for speaking truth to power.
AF: You recently wrote about social media and QAnon and the dynamics of how people end up down these rabbit holes. So I'd like to like go back from your own career now into this weird realm in which you are now working, which has both these movements that you've been talking about, which are so powerful and I think are really transformative, and then these other movements which are also powerful and also transformative, but maybe not in the best possible way. And I loved your piece on this because it was… and we'll put it in the show notes just so everybody can find it. It was about how people looking for mothering advice on the internet end up down the rabbit hole of QAnon. So can you talk us through this a little bit? How does this happen?
DAH: Yeah. How I got started on this story actually was I was writing another story for the Century about mothering influencers on the internet and why so many of them were Mormon. And as part of my research for that, I was just watching a lot of religious moms and their YouTube videos and Instagram accounts, and I was just consuming a lot of this content.
And it was kind of surprising to me, just like as a side note, that I would be watching these videos about, you know, how to organize a playroom and very quickly within like two or three, maybe a max of four videos, YouTube would suggest to me something that was like very clearly about a conspiracy theory. Not from the same accounts, not from the moms. Maybe, you know, like two guys in their little bunker-looking podcast room talking about any number of QAnon conspiracy theories. And I thought it was so weird.
So I kind of put out a query and I was like, is this happening to anyone else? Maybe it's just my algorithm and people came back with a resounding yes, like this was happening to a lot of people. And so I wanted to figure out why. How is this happening?
And in that piece I interview Mike Rothschild and the way–he's written a book about QAnon, so he is way more in it than I am–and the way he explained it to me was, you know, some of the nastiest bits of QAnon, this, you know, vast conspiracy theory or network of conspiracy theories, even they kind of live in these far-right message boards. But the content on these boards is so unpalatable that your everyday conservative would be shocked and probably repulsed, even maybe your everyday like banal racist might be a little shocked by some of this stuff. So the goal is not to get people onto these message boards. It's to take little tendrils of these conspiracy theories and get them out into the mainstream.
And that is aided by social media algorithms. It's not.. the algorithm don't have a consciousness, so they're not doing it on purpose, but it's proven that extreme content keeps people on a site longer. And so if you like one thing, the algorithm will keep suggesting another kind of bigger, more explosive, more shocking thing to you.
So how it might work is that, you know, you're interested in yoga and holistic wellness. So Facebook might say, hey, do you wanna join this group about, you know, yoga? And you're like, yeah, sure, I like yoga, I'm gonna talk to other yogis. And then we'll say, well, okay, you're into this group. Do you wanna join a group about essential oils? And I'm like, yeah, cool, I mean, plant-based medicine, sure, why not? And the next thing you know, you're conversing with anti-vaxxers and then people who believe that COVID is a hoax. And then that, you know, any number of these other associated QAnon conspiracy theories like the Democrats and Hollywood celebrities are, you know, kidnapping children left and right, like to use their blood and it just…
AF: It's sitting there right on the edge is what you're saying. It's like…
DAH: Yes.
AF: It's like this thing edges on that thing, which edges on this thing, which edges on that thing. And before you know it, you're in there.
DAH: Yes. And the thing about, in particular, Facebook groups is that they're with the wild, wild west. They might have admins or moderators in them, but those are people who either created the group or are part of the group, so there's no fact checking or like moderation, and you're in this kind of bubble of people who are all saying the same thing, and it can be hard to know what is true and what is not, especially if you're in big groups or you've got thousands of people saying, well, yeah, of course kids are getting kidnapped, like right off the playground. And that's not how child trafficking works, which is a real thing, but that's not how it works.
And it's not that the social media platforms are inherently evil. Well, I mean, they might be for other reasons, but this is not it. It’s that people who are trying to spread QAnon conspiracy theories take advantage of how these algorithms work.
AF: And then real concerns people have, like, you might genuinely be concerned about child trafficking. You might really be concerned that you might be in the airport and see a child being trafficked and not know it or something.
DAH: Right. Absolutely.
AF: We've talked before about this, a little bit, about Twitter and about the role that Twitter has played in your career or in your trajectory as a journalist and where we are now. I wonder if you could lay that out a little bit for us. What is Twitter to you?
DAH: What is Twitter to me? A double-edged sword. I am not currently on Twitter right now. I’m taking a bit of a pause. What I have loved about Twitter and what was very beneficial to me as someone who reports on religion is the democratization. And that's kind of oversimplifying because, yes, not everyone has internet access. Not everyone has a phone or a computer. But in many ways Twitter gave everyone a platform or many, many people a platform, more than, as a journalist, that you would usually see.
So on Twitter, I was able to cultivate a network where I was seeing and learning about events and ideas and people that were beyond “old white dude does a thing” which no, you know, shade to the old white dude to do a thing, but those are the press releases I get in my inbox. And this was information beyond that. And so I think it made me a better reporter just knowing about the stuff that was coming from communities that historically have not been kind of thought to be newsworthy.
And that was great. And I'm trying to cultivate that same type of community on LinkedIn. That's where I am now. Trying that out as my new reporting field space. I've had, you know, varying success with that. It's not quite the same. And that is what I loved about Twitter.
But I think the downside of Twitter is that when you give virtually everyone a platform, virtually everyone has a platform. And like I said, extremism and misinformation, disinformation pays off. Like, there was just a study out of the Center for Countering Digital Hate estimated that some of the more extremist accounts that had been suspended from Twitter, that have been brought back under Elon Musk, just 10 of those are going to earn Twitter 19 million dollars in ad revenue.
And so, yeah, like it's popular and there is really no incentive for misinformation to stop. And it is hard, I think, for some people to fact check stuff that's coming off of Twitter. Especially when someone kind of fashions themself as an expert and you want to believe that what they're saying is true, maybe ‘cause it already aligns with something that you believe or it sort of aligns with, you know, maybe something you've experienced a little bit in your corner of the world.
But anyone with a platform… I mean, we've seen how, you know, that's how stuff like January 6th happens, when you've got people telling you something that you want to believe, even if it's not true, and they're fashioning themselves with these experts and tellers of truth and no one's fact checking. It's going, you know, directly to your phone. There's no fact checking mechanism in there. So that's why I think Twitter is a double-edged sword. I'm taking a break from it right now, as I said, but I do miss it a little bit.
AF: Yeah, no kidding.
You've written more than once about sexual abuse in religious contexts, and I know this year, particularly for the Century, you worked on a story about abuse accusations at a Christian missionary school in Nigeria called Hillcrest.
And I wonder just, first of all, give us a little sense of that story as you saw it, as you were introduced to it for those listeners who are unfamiliar with what you were working on there.
DAH: Yeah. So this story was flagged to me by one of our colleagues, Elizabeth Palmer. It was literally my second day back from maternity leave and she said, I know this is kind of heavy, but would you be interested in following up on this story? She had heard some kind of rumbling about these stories of abuse that were coming out of this missionary school, ‘cause it was like students who were there, the kids of the missionaries from every denomination you could think of, they were represented there. And so it was kind of widespread. And these stories of abuse were just coming out and she wanted to know if I would follow up on it. And I said, sure.
And the story as I understood it, it was not my first time writing about abuse in a religious space. And I guess what I was seeing was this group of survivors who were doing something fascinating in organizing online. They were using Facebook actually, to organize and to talk about their experiences, which many of them had not realized were abnormal or they thought, you know, they thought what happened to them was normal or they had either, you know, suppressed that thought. But as other people started talking about it, they started to realize that, you know, something was wrong, and they began organizing to try and make it right.
So that was one part of the story that I saw, going back to these missions organizations, going back to the school and trying to seek justice. And then also what I was seeing was that this was another piece of this puzzle about abuse in religious institutions, that they're all so similar, which is kind of disheartening. Like, you know, even survivors will tell you, they'll hear about someone else's story, either from like that same institution but like a different generation or from, you know, they'll just hear some other story of another abuse survivor from somewhere else and they will tell you that story sounded exactly like mine.
And the institutions, the way they respond is so similar. And so I wanted to, I guess, show how this isn't, you know, like a Catholic problem. You think about, you know, clergy abuse and I think a lot of people wanna pin that on the Catholic Church. And it's not a Catholic problem. It's not necessarily a clergy problem, but these abuse of power in religious institutions, like this is kind of widespread and follows shockingly similar paths. And that's kind of the story that I wanted to tell there.
AF: And what do you make of that? What do you make of the similarity?
DAH: I guess going back to Beatrice Bruteau: We are… like the universal cosmic consciousness is one thing, and we've been stuck in one place in large part because of the systems that we've created that have been rooted in a consciousness of scarcity, a consciousness of fear, and really makes me eager to be part of this movement to help us where, you know, before she died, I think she really believed we were on the cusp of moving into a more Christ-like consciousness.
And you know, even this current consciousness that we're in is an evolution from something else and we're just always moving forward and just really kinda anxious to be part of the solution of moving us forward.
AF: Yeah. How do you reckon with questions of truth in that context, in this context of, you know, institution, individual abusers, and individual victims who eventually maybe find their way to one another because if they didn't, then we wouldn't have these stories at all. But what do you make of truth in that kind of loaded environment? How does it emerge? What is it? Where do you look for it as a journalist?
DAH: Yeah. I think when it comes to stories of abuse, truth is one of the hardest things because... and there's so many things at play. I'm gonna try and talk through them and I probably will sound like I'm talking in circles.
But, so on the one hand, you've got, you know, these survivors who are gonna share with you, like, really vulnerable parts of their story. You want them to trust you. You want them to feel like I believe you. But you also have to understand, as a journalist, that a common response to trauma is to suppress memories.
And so it's a very delicate task because they're telling you this story and oftentimes have come from decades of not being believed. So that can be a trigger for them if you are, you know, too probing. Like you need the truth, but you don't want to sound like you don't believe them because that could re-trigger something, while also understanding that their memory of something might be suppressed or it might be hazy, so it might take more than one conversation to get to their story. Just that one person, just to get to their story and what happened, they may need to tell it several times and it might be different each time. Then you kind of have to go back gently and figure out what was true for them.
And then there's also, I feel like this added weight that, when institutions, ‘cause I mean, the kind of similar pattern has been for institutions to cover this up, pretend like it didn't happen, dismiss it, cover it up, pretend like nothing, you know, pretend like nothing happened. And so there's this added weight that if you get even the slightest detail wrong, it will be used to discredit the whole story. And of course, as a journalist, your goal is always to be accurate, but this like added weight that if you, I don't know, say someone's shirt was purple and it was red, then one person will be like, aha, nope, that's not true. So this whole story is wrong. It's a lot of pressure.
How do you handle the questions of truth in a story like this is, gently. And allowing people to speak for themselves.Usually, especially when I go back to institutions… The way I write abuse stories is talking to the survivors first and hearing their story and then going back to the institutions and saying, okay, here's the information that I have, what is your response to this?
And I do very little questioning of the institutions. I let them speak for themselves instead of trying to, I don't know, shift the conversation in any way. It's a whole lot of listening and kind of opening space for them to speak, but without me saying like, is this true? Is that true? I just kind of lay my cards out and say, what is your response? As a way of trying to get at the truth without chipping them to say, or trying to push them, nudge them to say one thing or another, or to answer one thing or another.
AF: Or maybe to stimulate that defensiveness either. Yeah. To stimulate that…
DAH: Yeah, exactly. Exactly.
AF: …self-protective, that wall that seems to often go up.
DAH: Yeah. And it's part of, like I said, what objectivity means to me is, you know, having this preconceived narrative. So I don’t go into it… I go into it, I say, okay, I believe survivors, as a rule, but being open to the possibility that those institutions are doing the best that they can or did the best that they could with the information that they had and allowing that to be a possibility. So I'm not going in like you're the villain and, you know, I'm only gonna ask questions that are gonna make you sound like a villain. Now if you answer the questions and you sound like a villain, I'm gonna write that down. I'm gonna put that in my story, but that's not ‘cause I prompted you to do that. Yeah, I'm leaving a lot of space.
AF: And have you ever seen an institution respond better than you were expecting? Now that you've kind of been through this more than once and you have your own way of approaching it, which I really appreciated hearing about, but have you ever seen them do it well? Seen an institution respond in a way that you were like, whoa?
DAH: Well first I'm gonna answer the reverse of that. When I was at Global Sisters Report, and like that was kind of where I had my turning point about race, and I interviewed… I wrote several stories about congregations of nuns who were tackling either past or present racism in their congregations. And they were really difficult conversations. And the sisters were very open, very vulnerable about their mistakes, about their learning points, growing points, like, you know, they responded well to those things.
But when I did a story on nuns as perpetrators of sexual abuse, that was the first time in my career, at least to my knowledge, that someone just like blatantly lied to me in an interview. Like I had proof that something happened and they told me outright that it did not. And it was the first time that I was threatened by a source. And, again when I was reporting this Hillcrest story, was another time that someone just outright lied to me, where I knew something to be true and the source told me that it wasn't.
And that has been very surprising to me because I don't know what it is about abuse that, above any other type of uncomfortable story, just like it's this automatic defensiveness, shut down.
AF: And lying…
DAH: And lying.
AF: Which typically you can enter into a story and see how people are telling different perspectives or maybe they believe…
DAH: Right.
AF: …different points of view and they don't all see it the same way. But here you're talking about something that's different than just, they had a different point of view.
DAH: Yeah. Yeah. Like I have proof that a thing happened and you're telling me that it didn't, and that in fact, I shouldn't even write the story because I don't have, you know, evidence that this thing is true, and you're telling me that it's not true. And I'm like, no, but I do have evidence. And it's only been about abuse stories…
AF: Where this happens. Oh, that's interesting.
DAH: Mm-hmm.
AF: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. But I think to answer your question of who has done it well, I think in the Hillcrest story… and oh, I guess I was kind of tipped off to this by the survivors, who had had a very positive experience with the Evangelical Missionary Church in Canada. Survivors felt that that group had really taken their complaints to heart and was really trying to work on a solution, and they were like, you will probably, you know, have a similar experience.
And I did. They were very forthcoming. They answered all of my questions. They wanted to take time to really talk about them as a group and they came back and were very open about the information they had and didn't have and what they were doing.
They responded really well ‘cause they answered my questions, but as opposed to being threatened, that was a much better experience. But generally I think in these stories of abuse institutions do not respond well.
AF: Yeah, that seems pretty obvious, that whatever this is, this intimate form of truth and betrayal is really hard for institutions to grapple.
Well, thank you so much for this conversation. I want to go read Beatrice Bruteau.
DAH: Holy Thursday Revolution!
AF: Holy Thursday Revolution is now at the top of my list. And I'm so grateful for your work for the Century. I'm so grateful to have you as a colleague, and this interview has just been eye-opening and inspiring and fascinating and everything that I hoped it would be so thank you so much.
DAH: Oh, thanks for having me.
AF: And thank you, listeners, for joining us for this episode of In Search Of. If you, like Frieda, have ideas of scholars, projects, and perspectives that you'd like to hear on this podcast that you are in search of, please let me know. You can email me at insearchof@christiancentury.org.
Also go to our website, christiancentury.org/insearchof, to sign up for our newsletter and connect with us. Please follow this podcast and rate it on your favorite podcast app. This helps other listeners find this podcast.
This has been a production of The Christian Century, a thoughtful, independent, progressive magazine for today. We'll see you next week. Until then, happy searching.