Page 1264 – Christianity Today (2025)

Friends—enjoy this three part series from Krish Kandiah, an author and the Executive Director of Churches in Mission at the UK Evangelical Alliance. Besides lecturing in Evangelism at Regents Park College, Oxford University, Krish is a Doctoral supervisor at George Fox Evangelical Seminary. He neatly describes a vision for discipling Christians whose faith is strengthened through the personal or cultural struggles that shake belief for many. Are you equipped to build "anti-fragile" into the lives of your congregation? How resilient is your own relationship with God? – Paul

A few months ago, I had the opportunity to spend the day with one of my childhood sports heroes. (As you can imagine, I had been looking forward to this particular day at work!) I had spent a good portion of my teenage years watching him on television, both on the sports field and as a post-sport television celebrity. Once when I was a student he wowed me as he spoke at an evangelistic event to a packed room with an infectious passion for Jesus. But as the cameraman repositioned between the shots of the short film we were making together, I asked him about his faith—and he disclosed that it had all but gone. I appreciated his honesty, but left totally deflated.

Fragile faith

My hero's story was very similar to that of many former churchgoers I have met. As a young convert, he was nurtured by a form of Christianity that came as a complete package—with black­-and-white theological (and political) positions on nearly every subject under the sun. When he began to question one of those positions, he was not just destabilized in that one area—his whole fragile faith came crashing down. We've all heard this before, I'm sure, echoed in the lives of friends and acquaintances.

One of the most perplexing paradoxes of Christian leadership is that the more securely we seek to ground people in their faith, the more fragile and vulnerable they may end up in the long run.

One of the most perplexing paradoxes of Christian leadership is that the more securely we seek to ground people in their faith, the more fragile and vulnerable they may end up in the long run. So how do we ensure that our disciplemaking opens up minds and hearts to both the depth and the breadth of the gospel?

What if the problem with our leadership, teaching ministries, and discipleship programs is not just that we foster faith that is too shallow, but that we develop faith that is too narrow? How can we prepare the people we serve without making them fragile believers, whose faith folds when they encounter that one experience that we didn't foresee?

Flying with the black swans

Nassim Nicholas Taleb, an economist-essayist-mathematician describes how governments and economists face a similar problem as they make decisions in the face of potentially huge fluctuations in stock markets. He calls these paradigm-shifting occurrences "Black Swan" events (because no one believed black swans could exist until they were found in Australia, shifting paradigms). These kinds of events—like 9/11, the social impact of the internet, or the recent global economic crisis—are usually unpredictable. It is only after they have occurred that we realize we should have seen them coming.

In Antifragile: Things that Gain from Disorder, Taleb later coined the phrase "anti-fragile" to talk about resilient economic systems. If built properly, anti-fragile systems won't just withstand unforeseeable events, but actually become stronger through them.

Could we do the same thing with our discipleship? What would it take for our church members to not just develop resilience, or "sticky" faith, but an anti-fragile faith, which thrives when it encounters struggle, tragedy, or difficult questions?

Faith is fragile when it can't withstand the struggles of real life.

Faith is fragile when it can't withstand the struggles of real life. If we ignore the paradoxes of our faith, or send unspoken messages that the church isn't a place for those questions, we're setting disciples up for failure.

We need to tackle the paradoxes and tough questions head on. But how? There are 2 key questions: Are we open-minded when facing challenges and complexity, and do we know what's really important?

Read Part 2.

Dr. Krish Kandiah is the Executive Director of Churches in Mission at the UK Evangelical Alliance. He lectures in Evangelism at Regents Park College, Oxford University and is a Doctoral supervisor at George Fox Evangelical Seminary. His latest book is Paradoxology: Why Christianity was never meant to be simple.

A three-day stubble adorns Matt Chandler's handsome, boyish face, belying his booming voice. It's actually "six-day" stubble, says Chandler, 39, laughing. Over lunch, Chandler's metaphor-driven mind is busy condensing big ideas into practical concepts, a trademark of his preaching and writing. As someone who preaches both "the gospel on the ground" (how Christ came to save individual sinners) and "the gospel in the air" (how Christ came to redeem all of creation), he may be well positioned to take a Reformed church-planting movement to new corners of Christendom.

"I think I'm intrinsically gifted when it comes to metaphors," he says. "I am constantly thinking, This resembles that." He tosses humor into sermons and conversations like pitching salt, so fast that listeners may miss words but get the flavor. His energetic preaching makes him a fitting choice to lead one of the fastest-growing international movements of "churches planting churches" today.

The busy Tuesday that Christianity Today visits him, the 6' 5" Chandler wears a black T-shirt and jeans. He chats while wolfing down a mixed salad in his modest office at the Village Church in Flower Mound, a Dallas–Fort Worth suburb. Posters around the building don't explicitly tout his Calvinism as one might expect, just "biblical" teaching. Cubbyholes and hangout areas in the rehabbed Albertsons grocery store promote the coffeehouse-casual feel that's nearly ubiquitous in large evangelical churches. Even Chandler's first book, The Explicit Gospel, takes a scented-candle approach to Calvinism, freshening up its more arcane teachings to attract a new generation.

A leader at the Village Church for 12 years, Chandler is entrancing if demanding to hang with. "His intensity is one of the first things you notice," says Albert Mohler, president of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. "Just sharing a meal with him—the man's intense. He's confident but he's ready to learn." "I can be overbearing at times," says Chandler, a trait he says he wants to tamp.

And just as Mohler became president of the Southern Baptist Convention's (SBC) flagship seminary at the young age of 33, Chandler has now become the president of the Acts 29 Network. The 16-year-old "gospel-centered" band of churches aims to write the next chapter of the missions described in the Book of Acts' 28 chapters. Seattle pastor Mark Driscoll cofounded the network with late Presbyterian pastor David Nicholas in 1998. In March 2012, during a meeting with board members present, Driscoll tapped Chandler to succeed him, shifting the offices to Dallas. (Driscoll remained on the board for a time, but is no longer listed as a member of Acts 29 leadership.)

'There is no question [Driscoll] is an introvert, and I am not an introvert. I feed off of people where maybe he would grow weary by it.' ~ Matt Chandler

Observers expect Chandler's relational wiring to take the network in a different direction from the one marked by Driscoll. How do the two pastors differ?

"There is no question [Driscoll] is an introvert, and I am not an introvert," Chandler says. "I feed off of people where maybe he would grow weary by it."

Growing Greenhouse

For Chandler, relationship starts with his wife, Lauren, who reviews his weekly schedules and signs off on travel and outside speaking gigs. "Nobody speaks truth to me as well as Lauren does," says Chandler, who believes men should lead at home and church. "She did it to me this morning."

The morning CT visited, Chandler rose as usual at 5 A.M. "I like early mornings best and spend the first part of my day making my heart happy before the Lord." Later that morning, he began casually critiquing a certain group (and perhaps drawing hasty conclusions).

Lauren asked, "Have you heard them say that?"

"No," he said. "I just said that their hermeneutic would lead me to believe that."

"Well, I think until they say that out loud, we should probably give them the benefit of the doubt," said Lauren.

And so Chandler did. Such openness enlivens the Village Church, which has 11,000 members spread out among four Dallas locations. It has added 1,000 members each year, and Chandler's sermons are regularly ranked among iTunes' top podcasts. Less than 20 years ago, Chandler says, he couldn't define "Reformed"; today he leads a movement that claims five doctrinal distinctives shaped by that theology—justification by grace through faith as the core gospel message; God saves whom he will; the Spirit empowers believers to believe the gospel and live holy lives; men lead in the church and home; and the local church's primary mission is spreading the gospel. The network currently has some 500 church planters, with about 510 currently applying to join.

Chandler wants to help the network expand globally and ethnically. It's like "changing out an engine" on a plane "that's going 500 miles an hour at 30,000 feet. 'Everybody, it's going to get bumpy. Everybody, hang on!'"

In another metaphor, he says Acts 29 is like a greenhouse. Acts 29 church plants have sprouted and grown spontaneously over the past decade or so. But for its plants to keep thriving and sprouting, the greenhouse needs mechanical fine-tuning. And it's about to welcome plants from new climates and environments.

The challenge is to become more of a global network. "We want to plant a lot of churches in Europe, Africa, and South America," says Chandler. "How do you organize around that? You have Fortune 500 companies trying to answer that question right now."

The answer may be at the two ends of a Flower Mound strip mall.

Quasi-Denomination?

Village Church's main site whispers warmth and breathing room. A 1,400-seat auditorium includes a baptismal that once may have been an orchestra pit. Prayer rooms, children's areas, and high-ceiling rooms jut off the sides. Everything appears unintentionally eclectic, exuding a laid-back vibe that nonetheless takes a lot of work to pull off.

Meanwhile, 300 yards away at the other end of the strip mall, the new Acts 29 Network "Central" storefront resembles an independent insurance agent's office. Half man cave, half hollow headquarters, it houses five full-time staff: Tyler Powell, Leana Adams, Derrin Thomas, Chris Bristol, and Matt Adair. Powell, Thomas, and Bristol moved with Acts 29 from Mars Hill Church to Dallas in 2012.

"Here, we're our own entity," says Powell, North American assessment director. "We're not planting mini–Mars Hills or mini–Mark Driscolls. We're centrally located but decentralized."

Adair became the staff's fifth member in 2013. The 38-year-old director of operations is commuting while pastoring a Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) congregation in Athens, Georgia. His job is to make hierarchy hip instead of heavy. Among other things, Adair helps Acts 29's 16 regional directors connect and encourage local pastors. Chandler and Adair constituted a new seven-member board to guide the network.

Does all this mean Acts 29 is becoming a denomination?

"No intention," says Chandler. "I'm already involved in the Southern Baptist Convention." Chandler, who was ordained by a local church pastor, not a denomination, adds: "A network has far more flexibility because . . . we are churches that plant churches—bottom-line."

Nonetheless, Mohler quips, "You know the old expression: If you have to keep saying, 'We're not a denomination,' look in the mirror and realize you are one." Some of Adair's PCA peers call Acts 29 "a quasi-denomination or something like that," he says.

"I understand the perception. I just disagree with it."

Adair and the team want Acts 29 to remain fresh, so church planters set their own budgets and choose their elders and worship styles. At the same time, the central office is creating more network events such as regional boot camps and conferences. Adair knows it sounds contradictory. "How do you function as an actual, genuine network, not an organization that's still command-and-controlled from the center and just calling itself a network?" he says.

Maintaining principled passion while navigating growing complexity is the new challenge for Acts 29. Chandler's own story suits it well.

Charismatic Calvinist

An Army brat born in Seattle, Chandler grew up bouncing around lower-class neighborhoods in many cities. As a teenager, Chandler took a job at a factory, "which was an awful, awful, awful place to work." His mom was a "fundamentalist legalist," his dad, "a mess." In high school, a fellow football player kept the gospel in front of him. Then, on a retreat, a pastor taught from Hebrews 12 about how Jesus, "for the joy set before him," went to the cross for Chandler. He got up, walked outside, and sat in a tree swing. He got me, Chandler thought. I am one of them now.

Despite disagreement in Reformed circles about the so-called 'sign gifts,' Chandler believes they continue to this day.

After graduating, Chandler became a janitor at a local high school, where he also led Bible studies. He was invited to speak at the school's chapel and rocked it. After entering college, the accolades kept coming. "I could preach the walls off," Chandler says. Still, he didn't understand what the church is, let alone how to run a meeting or lead. He became a youth minister in Abilene, Texas, where the senior pastor helped shore up his deficiencies. There Chandler also experienced speaking in tongues and healing. Despite disagreement in Reformed circles about the so-called "sign gifts," he believes they continue to this day.

For a long time, Chandler had prayed for his dad to know Christ. "I remember being confused with the idea of [Dad having] free will, but then me asking God to save him. To me those two things were incompatible."

He found the answer in classically Reformed teachings, especially those of John Piper. Chandler embraces the view that God predestines some to heaven and others to hell. Another turning point came at the first Passion conference in 1997—"probably the most delightfully devastating moment of my growth," says Chandler. Piper spoke on being a Christian hedonist, and Chandler signed up.

After that, people flocked to his Bible studies, and his itinerant preaching drew thousands. In 2002, Chandler took over First Baptist Church of Highland Village, with about 160 members; today, it is the Village Church, ranked the ninth largest in the SBC.

The high-speed trip hasn't stopped. Nor has it been easy.

Just as his church was mushrooming in late 2009, Chandler suffered a seizure on Thanksgiving morning and was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. Bald from chemotherapy, he kept preaching, inviting people to pray for his healing via regular video updates. Eight months later, doctors proclaimed him cured. Chandler says God miraculously healed him. Later that year, Chandler told Justin Taylor of the Gospel Coalition, "I'm not sure how men and women without a strong view of God's sovereignty and authority over all things handle things like this."

It was much easier trusting God when "the stakes" were lower, "when we were a small church with no money, and thousands of people weren't downloading my sermons every week," says Chandler. Today he is familiar with wild rides; perhaps he's been prepared to lead hundreds of pastors on one doozy of a future spin.

Open- and Closed-Handed

Powell's desk is awash in hundreds of membership applications. Over the past seven years, 487 (of 808) Acts 29 applicants have been approved as candidates. (Of those, 106 didn't complete the candidacy process for various reasons, 30 have resigned as members, and 8 have closed their church doors.) Pastors fill out about 50 application pages, take the DiSC ("dominance," "influence," "steadiness," and "conscientiousness" personality types) and Harvard Business tests, and submit to interviews. The tests, most often used in corporate settings, gauge entrepreneurial drive and sociability, among other psychosocial traits. About 50 pastors per year complete the process.

Chandler and other network leaders don't apologize for seeking a certain type of man as leaders. Like a football team, says Chandler, his offense requires quick and agile players. In others words, pastors must be able to adapt to change even as they help create it. They have to set up systems that give feedback, says Chandler, and then listen to that feedback.

The network recruits through conferences, social media, and personal invitations to ministry-minded college students to Acts 29 boot camps. Chandler wants more Asian and African American pastors in the network. He's also starting to lean heavily on new board member Steve Timmis, global director for more than 50 English churches. Acts 29 Central wants more European church plants, though leaders say they wouldn't even try to tell planters how to evangelize and disciple in their post-Christian context.

What attracts pastors to Acts 29? They're encouraged and yet are free to lead in their own personal or denominational style. The annual pastors' conference is like a "family reunion," Thomas says. One pastor in the PCA told CT it's not about political or doctrinal squabbling, but "strengthening pastors' marriages, planting churches, and enhancing their personal walks."

"The beautiful thing about Acts 29 is that it divides doctrinal issues into two groups," says the pastor, who asked not to be named. "One is 'closed-handed issues'—the things none of us as Reformed pastors would ever argue about. . . . Then there are 'open-handed issues,' things that [we disagree on] but that we've agreed we will not argue about." Those would include doctrines that SBC and PCA churches—the two largest denominations represented by Acts 29 pastors—typically differ on, including infant versus believer's baptism, traditional versus contemporary worship, and congregational versus presbyterian forms of leadership.

Quick Study

Although never educated or trained in a denomination or major church association, Chandler has absorbed theology, polity, and pastoral studies. He's a quick study. His passion for reading came in his 20s, on his own terms. "I think I have authority issues. If I can decide what I want to learn, then I can learn anything." He says he doesn't have trouble submitting to theologians such as Jonathan Edwards and John Calvin, who enrich his understanding of the gospel-centered life.

He recently finished A Separate Peace. A coworker just wrapped up Of Mice and Men. Together they relished its shock ending, exclaiming, "He kills Lennie!"

At press time, more than 40 Acts 29 pastors had published books on topics ranging from theology to marriage to "dead guys" (the category description on the webpage of Resurgence Publishing, founded and still operated by Driscoll in partnership with Tyndale House). Well-known titles from Acts 29 members include Church Planter by vice president Darrin Patrick, Date Your Wife by Silicon Valley pastor Justin Buzzard, and A Meal with Jesus by UK church planter Tim Chester.

The speed at which books have been churned out mimics the speed that churches are planted. But can this all last, or will detail management wrangle everything?

For instance:

• How will Acts 29 monitor the doctrinal fidelity, and compliance with Network policies, of the swelling numbers of senior pastors? Currently, pastors renew their covenant yearly, says Chandler. They should part company then before becoming divisive. If necessary, he says, "I'll remove someone." (Other Acts 29 staff say no single person can remove a member from the network.)
• Might a pastor receive divergent guidance from Acts 29 and from their own denomination?
• Acts 29 requires senior pastors to give 1 percent of their churches' budgets to Acts 29 Central; is that basically asking pastors to proclaim their allegiance with an offering?

Joy Stings

Chandler regularly fasts and prays and turns down a percentage of mounting speaking requests. Such tough calls don't hamper his joy, he says. "It takes one thing to go wrong . . . and your happiness is gone," he tells a seminary crowd. His nimble, long fingers mesmerize as he speaks. "Sometimes joy stings."

Al Mohler's chief concern is that Chandler 'could take on too much. He's in a very unique position at a very young age.'

Joy stings while battling cancer; while growing up in a poor family; while maneuvering churches toward growth. Chandler expects the sting. But is there a sting limit? Mohler's chief concern is that Chandler "could take on too much. He's in a very unique position at a very young age."

Chandler's Acts 29 staff says their leader won't let Acts 29 interfere with his main commitments to Lauren, their three children, and the Village Church. A hand-carved walking stick in the corner of Chandler's office serves as a reminder that people trump organization pyramids. The stick—a present from a podcast listener—lists his family members' names with verses about loving them.

Recently, as Chandler prayed before a large audience, he said, "What is . . . exciting in my heart is that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of men and women who do not yet know you; have not yet worshiped you; have not yet exalted you as God; who will in the future because of your Spirit's work."

That's the Reformed–blue jean movement's goal—to plant churches and harvest lives. Chandler seems ready to lead it. "I've got to wait for the Lord to tell me 'well done,' and I need to live with convictional courage. If you lack courage, you have no business being in ministry."

Joe Maxwell is a former Christianity Today news editor who has authored hundreds of articles for mainstream and religious mag­azines. His company, LifeStory Publishing in Jackson, Mississippi, produces personal memoirs, biographies, and business and ministry histories.

Just weeks before Pope Francis makes his first pilgrimage to the Holy Land in late May, Christians in Israel are grappling with an upsurge in threats and attacks on churches by Jewish extremists.

Last week, an assailant defaced the Notre Dame of Jerusalem Center, the local headquarters of the Roman Catholic Church, scribbling graffiti in Hebrew reading, "Death to Arabs and Christians and to everyone who hates Israel." This followed a letter received by a top Catholic official that threatened to kill him and other Catholic clergy in Israel.

Vandals also damaged a Romanian Orthodox Church in Jerusalem, spray-painting it with the words: "price tag," "Jesus is garbage," and "King David for the Jews." It was another of a wave of both anti-Christian and anti-Arab graffiti and vandalism that has swept through Israel in recent weeks.

The attacks are largely believed to be carried by Jewish extremists who are now almost daily defacing Christian and Muslim property and places of worship inside Israel and areas controlled by Palestinian authorities. The extremists say their graffiti and vandalism is the "price tag" for the government trying to restrain West Bank Jewish settlers.

On Sunday, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem Fouad Twal, the Vatican's most senior cleric in Israel, said, "The unrestrained acts of vandalism poison the atmosphere, the atmosphere of coexistence and the atmosphere of collaboration, especially in these two weeks prior to the visit of Pope Francis."

The patriarch called the price-tag assaults acts of "terror." He accused the authorities of not doing enough to bring the perpetrators to justice, saying, "The actions are drawing only condemnation by Israeli leaders but few arrests."

"This wave of extremist actions of terror is surely of grave concern to all reasonable persons," Twal said. The Jordanian-born patriarch added, "The government of Israel must be concerned, because it is very bad for the State of Israel's image abroad. It is also a blight on the democracy that Israel ascribes to itself."

"Everyone knows the Israeli police set up special units to track attacks like these. In light of the fact that the great majority of vandalism acts do not lead to trials, we must ask if the government is willing to get down to the root of the problem," he said.

Twal did, however, praise Israeli Justice Minister Tzipi Livni for holding an emergency meeting last week with the country's top security officials to try to tackle the growing problem. Israel's Haaretz newspaper reported that Israeli security services fear that Jewish radicals might carry out a major hate crime against Christians or their institutions to garner media attention during the pope's pilgrimage.

An earlier statement by the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem said, "The bishops are very concerned about the lack of security and lack of responsiveness from the [Israeli] political sector, and fear an escalation of violence." It added that there has been "no gesture of solidarity or condemnation" from Israel's political establishment. "We feel neither safe nor protected."

Death Threatened

At the start of May, Bishop Boulos Marcuzzo, Latin Patriarchal Vicar General in Israel, received a message from a suspected Jewish extremist threatening to kill the Catholic leader, his priests, and other Christians who refused to leave Israel by May 5, 2014. (This message for unknown reasons excluded Protestants and Anglicans.)

The message accused Christians of "defiling Israel by only breathing its holy air" and tarnishing God's name. Israeli police later arrested a man suspected of issuing the threat to Bishop Marcuzzo.

Palestinian Christians familiar with the incident alleged that the threatening document was written as halacha. Halacha is a comprehensive set of laws, guidelines, and opinions derived from the Hebrew Bible that help some devout Jews to "be holy as I your God am holy." The document describes Christianity as pagan worship and attempts to justify aggression against Christians.

According to sources consulted by CT, the Chief Rabbinate of Israel has condemned as criminal and sinful any price-tag actions and writings. Rabbis and Jewish communities have followed suit.

The Assembly of Catholic Ordinaries in the Holy Land said that the death threat was received around the same time that unidentified perpetrators vandalized a church and broke its cross in Tabgha, along the northwestern shore of the Sea of Galilee. A mosque was also attacked.

At the time of publication, Assembly leaders told CT that it had not yet received an official response from the Israeli government.

"Our past condemnations have fallen on deaf ears or at best empty promises from [Israeli] officials," read the Assembly's statement, issued following vandalism of the church and mosque.

"[Israeli] officials shouldn't give the perpetrators the impression that they're above the law," the statement said. "The time has come to join forces with a view to ending this dangerous phenomenon."

The Assembly told CT that it received a note of support addressed to Bishop Marcuzzo from a private study center for Jewish-Christian relations in Galilee. It read: "We at the Galilee Center for Studies in Jewish-Christian Relations were shocked and saddened to learn of three recent attacks against Christians in the Galilee."

"It is especially disturbing to note that these actions took place precisely as the country was readying itself to commemorate the massacre of six million Jews in the Shoah. The slogan 'never again!' requires Jews to prevent fanaticism, prejudice, and violence from gaining the upper hand, especially in Israel. It is the duty of every Israeli to speak out against this reprehensible behavior against our own citizens and residents."

"Christians are woven deeply into the fabric of the Galilee. We stand in solidarity with our Christian friends and neighbors, students and teachers. Together we must strive to eradicate this xenophobic tendency that exists among us," it added. "We call on the state of Israel to pursue this criminal matter with the utmost seriousness."

Full-Blown Racism?

So far, no one has been successfully prosecuted despite hundreds of arrests made, according to the AFP French news agency and evangelical Christian Arabs, who spoke on condition of anonymity.

They said that some 400 incidents were perpetrated against Christians and Muslims in Israel and the Palestinian Authority areas last year. Israeli police report that most of those arrested are minors—under age 18—complicating the juridical process.

But critics say that because the vandalism is classified as crime rather than terrorism, the bar for police searches and arrests is set high. Evidence can be hard to get because assailants often act alone. It's also believed that police are not permitted to search a home without a court order, and can only detain a suspect for 24 hours without charge. This can add a lot of time pressure to locate evidence.

AFP said that attacks initially targeted Palestinian property in response to Israeli government moves to squelch unauthorized Jewish settlements. The scope has recently grown to what appears to be a full-blown racism against non-Jews.

Some evangelical Arab Christians living in Israel said they believed it was a new development, emerging with price-tag attacks moving from Jerusalem and predominately Palestinian areas up into the Galilee region of northern Israel.

Alex Awad, dean of the Bethlehem Bible College and an Arab Christian, offered this explanation during a CT interview, when Jewish settlers feel their interests are threatened: "They then resort to attacking either Christian or Muslim holy sites. Jewish settlers in the West Bank are becoming stronger and stronger. They are armed." He added, "Certainly they can intimidate the Palestinian population, including the Christian presence in the Holy Land."

The U.S. State Department mentioned price-tag attacks for the first time last month in its 2013 Country Reports on Terrorism. The report appeared to indicate that the Obama administration does not believe Israel is adequately prosecuting perpetrators of such hate crimes. Israel's Attorney General Yehuda Weinstein said he will ask the courts to sharpen penalties against the perpetrators of hate crimes, according to the Israeli daily Haaretz.

Attacks on Jewish Sites

Israel National News or Arutz Sheva 7 reported that anonymous assailants carried out price-tag vandalism earlier this week at the Conservative Moreshet Yisrael synagogue in Jerusalem.

On a sign at the entrance to the synagogue, Jewish stars were scrawled with Nazi swastikas in the center.

Arutz Sheva 7 reported a spokesman for the synagogue saying it was the third case of vandalism in recent days. It said that Attorney Yizhar Hass, director of the Conservative movement, held Jewish rather than Arab leaders responsible.

"The serious graffiti on the Conservative synagogue in the center of Jerusalem . . . again reminds how much hate crimes are a slippery slope. Those who yesterday gave Jewish legal justification, explicit or intimated, to 'price tag' criminals, today give justification to the attack on liberal synagogues," Hass said.

The synagogue's rabbi, Rabbi Adam Frank, reportedly said, "We're no longer on a slippery slope, we're in free fall."

Officials respond

Israel's Public Security Minister Yitzhak Aharonovitch visited several sites in the Galilee area of Yokne'am subjected to price-tag attacks earlier this week and spoke about the troubling development with the town's mayor, the Israeli press reported.

For their part, the Palestinians are demanding that price-tag attacks be designated as acts of terrorism. The Palestinian Authority's Foreign Minister Riyad Maliki said his government has prepared a case against price-tag attackers and has written a letter to the United Nations, the U.S. State Department, and other world organizations, demanding to have the perpetrators put on the list of international terrorist organizations.

Maliki claims Israeli officials already internally refer to price-tag attacks as terrorism. "We have quotes from Israeli officials that already refer to them as terrorist organizations operating out of hatred for Arabs," the letter reportedly read.

Palestinians living in Israel are normally referred to as Arab Israelis. An Arab Israeli member of Israel's parliament or Knesset, Issawi Frej, proposed a bill stating that victims of price-tag attacks against Arabs will be recognized and compensated on the same scale as terror attack victims. But the Knesset's Ministerial Committee for Legislation categorically rejected the bill on Sunday, May 11.

Dale Gavlak is a journalist based in Amman, Jordan.

A new law in Colorado that makes it legal for 18-year-olds to smoke marijuana although they still can't buy alcohol, has some cultural critics once again taking shots at the national drinking limit.

Last month, Time ran a piece by Camille Paglia, questioning whether the limit was saving lives or pushing kids deeper into secretive binge drinking.

Our society has argued over the minimum legal drinking age at 21 for the past three decades, ever since Congress passed a law penalizing states whose cutoffs were any lower. The debate's not expected to reach a head anytime soon, even if Republicans take up the issue.

However, for those Christians who do drink alcohol, would a lower drinking age be a good thing? Supporters consider the proposal a win for modeling morally responsible drinking while kids are still at home. Opponents say it's a loss for teens already being tempted by the plethora of contraband booze.

As teen binge drinking incidents continue to hit the headlines, the secular world is struggling to respond. It's not just a public safety issue, but a moral issue for parents of teenagers. Most forbid it, but some offer a sip of a drink or even turn a blind eye to parties with booze in their basements.

Hundreds of studies enumorate the risks and negative effects of underage drinking: drunk driving deaths, impaired brain development, and binge drinking. As Mothers Against Drunk Driving points out, the 21-year-old limit is one of the most heavily researched pieces of legislation out there. However, as much truth as we have, it doesn't account for the reality that teenagers drink anyway. Teen drinking accounts for 11 percent of total alcohol consumption. As Christians, we know that the truth is never enough to stop sin. It takes humility and Jesus.

Knowing the risks, parents want to teach kids to "drink responsibly," avoiding drunk driving, alcoholism, and alcohol poisoning. One approach praises the European way, where kids supposedly learn to drink in moderation from their parents. While they do have far fewer drunk driving incidents, some say European youth statistically drink more often. Still, supporters of a lower drinking age like Paglia stand by the idea that if youth were given more experience with alcohol at home, they'd learn to be less reckless:

Learning how to drink responsibly is a basic lesson in growing up — as it is in wine-drinking France or in Germany, with its family-oriented beer gardens and festivals. Wine was built into my own Italian-American upbringing, where children were given sips of my grandfather's homemade wine. This civilized practice descends from antiquity.

Yet, research indicates that when the drinking age limit drops, access to even younger minors rises. Chances are pretty high that more underclassmen would find unhindered access. Then there's MADD's argument: The more teens drink alcohol, the higher the chances they'll hit the roads loaded and invite peers along for the ride. The risks seem too high.

Some approaches focus on how parents discuss drinking in front of or with their children. The Talk Early campaign encourages parents to be careful about joking about drinking. Christian blogger Kristen Howerton, of Rage Against the Minivan, wrote last week reminding parents how we talk about alcohol—whether we condemn it, praise it or idolize it—can be just as important as how we consume it in front of our children.

Christians, too, worry about their kids' transition to 21 and legal. Children aren't even allowed a sip of the forbidden substance, perhaps with the exception of a sip of wine at communion, but as soon as they come of age we dump a metaphorical cooler of opportunity on them, with the punch spiked and everyone around them a few drinks in. Reducing the drinking age would allow some teens to legally get a few months training before their first fraternity party, supporters say. They can make their mistakes under the eye of a caring adult. It seems a reasonable approach, and it's certainly one that has grown in popularity over the past decade.

However, before jumping on the "teach them to sin responsibly" bandwagon, Christians must refocus the issue on the gospel. Our hope isn't to just have moral children who make safe decisions, but we want to see our children make righteous decisions, knowing their ultimate security is in Christ.

If our kids know Jesus, our focus is no longer teaching them when alcohol consumption becomes dangerous but instead when it becomes sinful. The irony is that history has proven that no group in society can be wholly trusted to make good decisions with alcohol—young or old, Christians or not.

While Christian families have the luxury of looking at alcohol and knowing that Jesus has freed us to enjoy it, we don't live in a world that's free. We also don't always live as if we are free ourselves. We wouldn't be loving our community well by allowing alcohol to slip more easily into the hands of teenagers, who historically handle it poorly.

I happen to live in one of the 29 states that allows minors to drink in the home with parent supervision. Imagine the oddity of my children turning down alcohol at keg-fueled frat parties, but coming home to share a drink.

Celeste Gracey is a freelance writer and award-winning journalist in the Seattle area. She holds a B.A. in communications from the University of Washington's journalism program.

A year ago, Soho Press published David Downing's Masaryk Station, the sixth and concluding installment in a superb series featuring British journalist John Russell, long resident in Germany. Spanning the period from 1938 to 1948, the series earned comparisons to the master of historical espionage, Alan Furst. The flavor of Downing's books is actually quite different from Furst's, but they share an evocative power grounded in intimate knowledge of place and time and the stuff of everyday life.

Now Soho Press has published Jack of Spies, in which Downing embarks on a new series centered on the period of World War I. Just as the previous series began before war in Europe had officially been declared, so the new series begins in 1913, just before the Chinese new year. The protagonist is Jack McColl, a British businessman, Scottish born and bred, with a sideline working for the UK's fledgling intelligence service. It helps that Jack is gifted with a "ridiculous knack" for learning languages.

Whereas, over the last 50 years, Europe during World War II has been the subject of more novels, movies, and reimaginings of every kind than any other historical period, the world of World War I—while hardly obscure—is not so immediately, overpoweringly familiar, especially not in the United States. And Jack of Spies begins not in Europe but in China, shifting next to San Francisco and other unexpected locations. Here a good deal of the plot involves Jack's efforts to find out how far the Germans are succeeding in stirring up trouble for the British by supporting independence efforts in India and Ireland.

There's a love interest, too: Caitlin Hanley, very much a "new woman," an American of Irish descent, a journalist with strong anti-imperial convictions, reluctant to be tied down in any way.

Jack McColl is not simply John Russell moved back in time and given a few superficial distinctives; he's a character in his own right. But he has some things in common with Russell—not least, a strong sense of the absurd and a distaste for cant to go along with his sympathy for the underdog. Like Russell, he's a winsome companion, which bodes well for the future of this new series. I, for one, am already eager for the next installment.

John Wilson is the editor of Books & Culture.

Copyright © 2014 Books & Culture. Click for reprint information.

(WWM) India's low-caste citizens have taken a sizable step into politics with a newly formed Christian political party and a campaign dedicated to earning seats in a new state assembly.

As India's month-long national election closed Monday [May 12], residents of Seemandhra, a new state carved out of India's southern state of Andhra Pradesh, elected 25 members to the Indian Parliament and 175 members to the new state's assembly.

The new Indian Christian Secular Party (ICSP), launched in February, put up more than 60 candidates—the majority of them Dalit Christians, according to one of the party's founders, Sleeva Galilee. (The election results have not yet been tallied.)

"With this election, there will be certainly a change in the attitude of other political parties towards Dalit Christians," said Galilee. "Dalit Christians have been long taken for a ride and treated as a vote bank. We want to tell the main political parties that they cannot take our votes for granted any longer."

Dalit means "trampled upon" and refers to people who are treated as "untouchables" in caste-entrenched India. Dalits are a mixed population, living all over the country, speaking a variety of languages and practicing numerous religions.

The Constitution of India bans discrimination based on caste, but prejudice and discrimination toward Dalits remains rampant. The majority of Dalits have menial jobs such as scavenging, and they live segregated from people in upper castes.

Such maltreatment became more prevalent after federal legislation enacted in 1950 enabled discrimination against Christian Dalits. The law made Hindu Dalits eligible for free education and set quotas for government jobs and seats in legislatures to improve their status. While the privileges were extended to Sikh Dalits in 1956 and to Buddhist Dalits in 1990, they are still denied to Muslim and Christian Dalits.

Christians also face pressure from Hindu nationalists, who continue to implement laws to dissuade conversion from one faith to another.

[Editor's note: The 2012 International Religious Freedom Report called the rise of anti-conversion laws a "worrying trend." In one Indian state, a proposed bill will send Christians to jail if they don't ask for permission to convert at least a month in advance. In another, both local and foreign Christians have faced mob attacks over alleged conversions. Some Hindu extremists have sworn to destroy Dalit Christians, burning villages, attacking homes and killing pastors.]

Establishing a political party may be a powerful idea to help fight this inequality, but whether the new ICSP can effectively carry that out is a separate question, said Raj Bharat Patta, general secretary of Student Christian Movement in India.

The party "may not have much impact, since it has come up all of a sudden and without much ground work," he said.

Franklin Caesar, a Dalit Christian activist, is skeptical of the Indian government's ability to provide justice. His petition seeking a judicial remedy for discrimination against Christian Dalits has been sitting before the federal Supreme Court for 10 years.

"Each time the [Congress party-led coalition] government was asked to make its stand clear on the issue by the [Supreme] Court, the government adopted evasive tactics," said Caesar.

It's difficult to get an accurate count of Dalit Christians. Many do not make their faith public as it would shut them out of government jobs, free education, and state scholarship for studies.

"The number of Dalit Christians is much higher than what is projected in the census," said Patta, a pastor of the Andhra Evangelical Lutheran Church. In fact, India now hosts more believers than at any time in history.

Galilee agreed, and said that since the actual number of Christians is much higher than documented, a Christian political party can make an impact in the elections with their nominal presence.

"We have a strong presence in many areas," Galilee said. "Thousands of Christians are forced to hide their Christian identity and remain Hindu in government registers."

India is ranked No. 28 on the 2014 World Watch List of the 50 countries where it is most difficult to be a Christian.

Last month we published two posts by Aidyn Sevilla as well as one by his wife, Joy. Sevilla identifies himself as a "gay Christian" in a straight marriage. His articles were honest, raw, and uncomfortably unresolved. He affirmed his commitment to Christ, his commitment to his marriage, and the complicated task of being faithful to both—as a man who is same-sex attracted in a church culture ill-equipped to help him.

Reactions to Sevilla's posts were strong, both in the comments as well as in emails our editorial team received. Many readers applauded the courage and transparency evident in the articles, while others were bothered by the ambiguity of Sevilla's theology and how he identified himself. Some, however, assumed that Sevilla's articles carried a hidden message about where PARSE's editors stand on the controversies surrounding homosexuality in the church and same-sex marriage in our culture. That was not the case.

I am ordained in a denomination that holds to a traditional theology of marriage and sexuality. But that was little help when a couple like Aidyn and Joy walked into my church office years ago.

Over the last few years, I have been increasingly engaged in conversations about LGBT rights and religious liberty. I recognize the enormity of these matters for the church and its mission in North America, as well as the divisions they can cause in both congregations and households. I'm also cognizant of the challenges organizations are having as the historically homogeneous sexual ethic of evangelicals begins to fracture. (The whiplash caused by World Vision's recent decisions are a vivid example.)

Our decision to publish Aidyn and Joy Sevilla's articles, however, had nothing to do with these social, political, or theological controversies. We launched PARSE to host conversations about the intersection of ministry and culture. Unlike articles in Leadership Journal, we don't expect every piece on PARSE to be a self-contained and complete thought. Posts are intended to start discussions, not end them. We are looking for ideas and authors that will stir discussion, and then guide discussions that will stir learning. Sevilla's posts met these criteria because they raised important questions even without providing many answers. While this made some readers very uncomfortable, that is exactly what good blog posts do.

More important for me than the articles' form was their resonance with pastoral reality. Many of us would like to keep the issue of homosexuality on a theological or theoretical level. I am ordained in a denomination that holds to a traditional theology of marriage and sexuality. I affirm this position and can provide a theological argument to defend it, but that was little help when a couple like Aidyn and Joy walked into my church office years ago. Those are the moments when we need the wisdom to connect the ideals of our theology to the realities of our ministry.

When reality walks in

I enjoy watching Pawn Stars on the History Channel. It features three generations of the Harrison family operating a Las Vegas pawn shop. At the opening of every episode Rick Harrison says, "One thing I've learned after twenty-one years—you never know what is going to come through that door." Anyone in local church ministry can resonate with that. Our editorial intent for PARSE is to publish articles that help church leaders wrestle with the messy cultural realities that walk through their ministry's doors. When I first read Aidyn Sevilla's article, it immediately resonated with what I've experienced in pastoral ministry, and it fit with conversations I've had with pastors around the country.

Last year I spoke with a pastor friend about "tough cases" he's facing in his church. He also serves in a denomination holding a traditional theology of sexuality and marriage, but his church is in an urban neighborhood with a sizable LGBT community. "A lesbian couple has been coming to my church for the last year, and they're honestly seeking to learn about Christ," he reported. "They want to dedicate their new baby to the Lord in our service. I don't know what to do."

Another ministry friend described being approached by his gay neighbors for counseling. "They're married, they don't know God, and they're going though some serious conflicts," he said. "I don't know what my goal should be. Do I want their relationship to get better? Do I want them to split up? I want them to know God, but how does that apply to their presenting difficulties in their relationship?" Then he asked the most pastoral question, "How do I bring the presence of Christ into this situation?"

Realities of ministry today go far beyond theological truth. The people coming into our lives are not blank canvases waiting for us to apply our paint-by-number theology.

These are the tough realities of ministry today that go far beyond theoretical truth. The people coming into our lives are not blank canvases waiting for us to apply our paint-by-number theology. They come pre-painted and very often with abstract compositions that we can't begin to understand without the Holy Spirit's wisdom.

It is important for pastors, church, denominations, and organizations to gain theological and pastoral clarity about sexuality and marriage. I'm grateful for the resources that exists to help with these questions–including what we publish in Christianity Today and Leadership Journal, but PARSE is not such a resource. It exists to help ministry practitioners wrestle with the realities and ambiguities of their calling. If we are serious about shepherding people, and not just about arguing positions, then we need to have our theology pushed to ground level. We need to hear from the Aidyn and Joy Sevillas in our communities. And we need to be asking, "How do I bring the presence of Christ to whomever comes through my door?"

Skye Jethani is executive editor of Leadership Journal and PARSE.

"No, I can't mentor you."

That was the blunt answer I gave to a wide-eyed young woman four years ago. She came up to me at church with a plan that included meeting at Starbucks every Monday morning.

I added "sorry," but it didn't help. Her expression caved. She wanted, needed, longed for attention. Lots of it.

I've been to mentoring workshops. I've taken on and taken in many young women over the years. I've followed the steps in articles I've read on mentoring, and here's my conclusion: I am a terrible mentor.

After serving alongside my husband for 25 years in youth ministry and then as a lay leader for the last decade, I've come to understand my strengths and weaknesses quite well. Spending hours listening to people's problems is not my gift. I'm kind of afraid of needy, self-absorbed women. I've been hurt by such women before. I've been drained to the last drop and then asked to give more.

Surely I would disappoint this young woman because I wouldn't be able to show up every week. I wouldn't have three hours to linger over coffee the way she could since she only worked part time and lived at home. It wasn't in my heart to try to fulfill her expectations for a mentor/mother/counselor.

Better to say no on the front end, I thought. Avoid the messy stuff.

So why did my "no" bother me so much?

My blunt "no" bristled up against my core belief that we're called to hospitality in all its various forms. As an "older woman," I agree with Paul's admonition in Titus 2:3-5 that I am "to teach what is good, and so train the young women." But I didn't want to. As an "older woman" I also feel like I have less energy and fewer hours in the day.

I asked a few of my friends what they thought. Each had a story about being burned in a mentoring relationship. But each of them also had wonderful experiences that made them smile and get teary-eyed. I live in Hawaii, and one of my friends said, "You have to view these young women as your extended ohana (family). Family members drive you crazy, too, you know."

Another friend softly said, "These young women we spend time with are the future generation of Believers. They are our kuleana." Her use of the Hawaiian word for "responsibility" went deep. My spirit softened. I knew what she saying.

Kuleana is a layered word that means to accept responsibility with humility and use the resources uniquely available to you to care for something or someone. This responsibility is viewed as an honor. When you live out your kuleana you recognize when an opportunity is being offered to you as a gift, and you receive it with aloha.

One of my friends would tell you it's her kuleana to care for her infirmed mother at home. Another knows that her kuleana is to work at the local food bank. These women are energized by the responsibilities they've taken on. They see their opportunities as an honor and not a burden.

So, what is my responsibility, my kuleana with the young women at our church? What resources do I have? What energizes me? What would make it feel like an honor and not a burden?

I thought of something Oswald Chambers said in My Utmost for His Highest: "The need is not the call; the need is the opportunity." Days later, the opportunity was made clear once again. I was approached by another college-age woman asking if she and her roommate could meet with me for a weekly mentoring time. My kuleana became clear.

Instead of meeting with these young women one-on-one, I could change the model. I would invite them to come to me for a weekly study. I had just finished writing a book with Tricia Goyer titled Praying For Your Future Husband. I could receive their valuable input for future writing projects, and they would get the attention, affection and community they were longing for. This was exciting, not burdensome.

An eager group of young women came together. They had no problem opening up and sharing their heartfelt insights and questions. I was able to respond to the group as well as to the individuals who lingered afterwards. I loved knowing that I was planting God's truth into the hearts of young women. That's why I write. That's why I speak. And that's what happened that summer with our group. The girls grew into a sweet ohana of caring friends. It was wonderful. And sometimes a little jagged around the edges, but it was real.

As a result of that summer study, one of the young women ended up moving in with us for six months. Another got in the habit of coming by every Friday on her way home from work. She loved to jump in and unload the dishwasher, chatting merrily, while I worked on dinner. Life upon life.

Another, Alyssa, started helping me with office work. The summer study knit us together even closer. Alyssa told me about a guy named Jeff. She also told me she wanted to write a Bible study for teen girls one day. I was able to give her advice and encouragement while she blessed me with much needed office support.

By the time that summer was over I realized I'd been mentoring without trying.

That surprised me. My concept of the mentoring process shifted from how I'd tried in the past. Not once did I stop everything and go to coffee with a lonely, needy young woman. In fact, the women I spent everyday time with were delightful. Bright and tender-hearted and eager to know that they are seen by God and known by him. I found it effortless to confirm his truths to their impressionable hearts while folding laundry and baking banana bread. We simply did life together and it was energizing and beautiful.

Two years later, Alyssa had moved to Seattle and was about to marry the guy she'd told me about, Jefferson Bethke. I asked if she wanted to write a book with me and over the next 18 months we worked via email on a new study book for young women titled, Spoken For: Embracing Who You Are and Whose You Are. The book released last month and once again I'm gathering a group for a summer study.

If you were to ask me if I mentor young women, I would probably still say no; my crazy schedule doesn't allow time for me to meet weekly for coffee. But then I'd stop and say that actually, I guess I am a mentor. It happens in the everyday flow of life around our home. I'm using the gifts available to me; storytelling, writing, gathering young women, and crafting study books that have the potential of reaching far beyond the shores of this little island. I give and I receive. I'm not worn out.

More than ever I believe that customized mentoring is the kuleana of every older woman. It is an honor and a gift. Start today by watching for opportunities to be who you were created by God to be and simply invite a younger woman to come alongside and enter into the flow of your life. This unforced rhythm of grace in life upon life mentoring is elegant and messy and oh-so worth it.

Robin Jones Gunn is the bestselling author of the Christy Miller Series for teens and the Sisterchicks® novels for women. She has written over 80 books, including Victim of Grace and most recently Spoken For, which she co-authored with Alyssa Joy Bethke.

In a late February, predawn raid in Buni Yadi, a town in northeast Nigeria, Islamic militants locked the doors of a boys' dormitory and set it on fire. At least 59 students perished in the flames. The militants were linked to Boko Haram, a terrorist group that seeks to establish an Islamic state in Yobe, Nigeria.

The mainstream media cover these kinds of horrific attacks, which are often motivated by simmering religious hostility, according to recent data from the Pew Research Center. But rarely do media cover the larger, global story of religious intolerance.

That's the challenge that Rodney Stark, professor of social sciences and codirector of the Institute for Studies of Religion (ISR) at Baylor University, and Katie E. Corcoran (an ISR postdoctoral fellow) took on in their new book, Religious Hostility: A Global Assessment of Hatred and Terror. They found that one critical difference between conflicts of the distant past and today is that national armies once fought wars on religious grounds, whereas today, militant civilians—not soldiers—are the main combatants. Daniel Philpott, professor at the University of Notre Dame and author of Just and Unjust Peace, interviewed Stark, best known among CT readers for his research on the early church and the Crusades.

Why do we need another book on religious persecution and intolerance?

Much of what has been written about terrorism and the Middle East simply isn't true. There was the recent, widely publicized claim of 100,000 Christians a year dying for their faith. That's pretty stunning. When I found out how that 100,000 number was calculated, I realized it was absurd. More likely, the number was less than 7,000 a year.

Another reason for our project was the infatuation with the Arab Spring. People should have known better. President Hosni Mubarak was a tyrant, but he replaced Anwar Sadat after Sadat was assassinated by the Muslim Brotherhood. And why? Because Sadat had made a treaty with Israel. Mubarak had many flaws, but he suppressed the Egyptian fanatics, the ones who killed Sadat. If you look at Gallup World Poll data, when Egyptians were allowed to choose freely in an election, they chose a tyrant—one dedicated to attacking Christians, Jews, and Arab moderates.

Egypt's army has reinstated Mubarak's policies. That's good—probably. But we missed the whole spectrum of events. We decided to write a book that looked at real data to figure out what was going on in the world.

What surprised you?

The most stunning finding: It had been widely reported by people who were looking at survey data that majorities throughout the Middle East disapproved of the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center. Then I discovered something. The reason that overwhelming majorities disapproved is because they think it was a frame-up done by George W. Bush. Among those who accept that it was committed by Arab terrorists, most of them approve of the 9/11 attacks. That shocked me. Overwhelmingly, people approved to the extent that they rightly understood what happened on 9/11.

You continually stumbled across data showing Islam to be especially problematic in stirring up hostility. What's your explanation?

Most Middle Eastern nations have several Muslim groups that have been bitter enemies for centuries. As Mubarak modeled it, the old ruling elites in these countries managed to sit on this hostility reasonably well to keep peaceful relations going.

But these rules have broken down. Some 75 percent of the people who died from religious hostility in 2012 were Muslims killed by Muslims. Then the terrible bitterness among them gets fanned by the enormous anger in these countries toward the West: the jealousy arising from poverty; technological backwardness; and then, of course, being appalled at the West's immorality, especially as depicted in the media.

But we must be careful not to blame the "unwashed Arab street" for all this. The elites, the most educated people throughout the Middle East, share these views.

Are you distancing yourself from the claim that Islam is inherently violent and intolerant because of its theological or scriptural teachings?

Religious violence isn't something new in the world. Lord knows there were 90 brands of Christianity all busy hating each other not long ago. Tolerance is hard to come by. I hesitate to think there is anything peculiar to the Islamic tradition. There is a problem, to be sure, in that Muhammad butchered people for their irreligion. But the fact is, Christians have killed each other by the millions too.

Pakistan reported the highest rate of religiously motivated atrocities in 2012. What is it about the country that puts it at the top of the list?

Pakistan's curse is that they are not only split up among the Shia and Sunni and smaller Muslim sects, but that the Sunni have been heavily backed by the Saudis, which affected their education. The Sunni have been educated into a radical nasty brand, at least compared with the Shia, who are in turn being armed and backed by the Iranians.

So Pakistan is a little battlefield on which outsiders have been pouring an awful lot of gas. Pakistan is next to Afghanistan, so the Taliban has made inroads in Pakistan and has a long history of involvement with al-Qaeda. Pakistanis are victims of outside interference.

Media report that in the Central African Republic, Christians are resorting to violence against Muslims, as a reaction to Muslim violence against Christians. Does this call for you and Corcoran to revise your findings from 2012, that little to no religiously motivated violence among Christians exists in the world today?

Yes, it does, although we made it clear that in Nigeria, Christians were beginning to strike back. Who would expect otherwise when you have the enormous number of murders that were going on? You had people driving by on motorcycles and shooting everybody in a restaurant or the like on religious grounds.

Focusing on the West, you and Corcoran find evidence that evangelicals aren't so different from the general population in their attitudes about church and state. So why are they often perceived to be more theocratic?

They have been very misrepresented by the press, which basically doesn't like religious people, particularly if they go to church and aren't lukewarm about it.

But who are the evangelicals? Usually they are defined on the basis of denomination. They are thought to be in conservative denominations like the Baptists and Nazarenes, and then you look at the Episcopalians and Presbyterians and say, "Well, these are not evangelicals." But if you ask people whether or not they are evangelicals, you find that half the people in so-called evangelical denominations don't accept the term evangelical, and that a whole lot of people in the nonevangelical denominations do define themselves as evangelicals. Fourteen percent of Roman Catholics identify themselves as evangelical.

Evangelicals differ from the liberal press on church-state matters, but they are not different from other Americans on these issues. They do differ from Americans in that they go to church more frequently and are far more likely to witness to their faith (inviting others to their church or prayer group). They are much less likely to believe in Bigfoot, Atlantis, astrology, ghosts. They are far more favorable toward Israel.

Do these stereotypes about evangelicals come largely from the media?

Sure they do. When I was a reporter, if you were a religious person you kept it to yourself.

By the way, there are more religious people in those newsrooms than anybody realizes. At a recent press conference, we revealed some of the results of the Baylor National Religion Surveys, and I mentioned that 52 percent of respondents said they had been rescued by a guardian angel. This attracted the attention I thought it would. Two different members of the press, when nobody was looking, pulled me aside and said, "It happened to me."

You and Corcoran argue for religious pluralism as a source of tolerance and support for religious freedom—a theme that you have returned to many times in your scholarship. By your theory, pluralism leads to peace. But in Pakistan, the factions are killing each other.

Initially, of course, pluralism leads to war. The most dangerous thing is having two, three religious groups in a society. If you had only one, there'd be nothing to fight about. Of course there never really is one—there's always variation within it. We miss, even among Sunnis, the enormous diversity within Islam, just as Muslims fail to grasp the diversity within Christianity. Neither is monolithic.

I'm echoing Adam Smith, whose great insight was that if you want religious peace, you need an enormous number of religious groups, all of them way too small to amount to much on their own. It's in everybody's interest to create a civil religion, papering over the diversity because any one of the groups could be crushed. The United States is a good model of that. I'm sure the founding fathers would have established a church if there had been a 60 percent Anglican population. Instead, they had to invent rules to govern religious freedom and the separation of church and state. There was no established church, because there was nobody dominant enough to play the role.

Couldn't it also work the other way around—that only when there is a relaxation of authoritarianism can more factions and a diversity of views emerge?

Saudi Arabia is not a good place to suggest you are not a very orthodox Sunni. So it depends on the time and place. The authoritarian regimes in the past century have been sitting on a powder keg and keeping it from exploding. It's really hard to say how all this can work out. You know, democracy isn't really the answer to intolerance.

Right. Even when we say democracy, don't we have to distinguish between democracy defined as elections and liberal democracy, which has freedoms and rights and free spaces as well?

It's important for Americans to realize we are spoiled. We have a pretty good situation. But this is all very recent and very precarious. Hitler came to power in a democratic Germany; Mussolini was elected. Democracy has never ensured tolerance.

Go back to ancient Athens, where twice, following a war with another city-state, citizens voted to kill all the men and enslave all the women and children. The wonderful British democracy excluded Roman Catholics from Oxford and Cambridge until the 1890s. Our own great civil rights struggle was in the 1950s and '60s.

Why are we still surprised when the overwhelming majority of Egyptians think the nation should be ruled by Muslim law (Shari'ah)? And why should we be surprised when they elect a president who promises to implement it? Elections are tolerant only to the extent that the voters are. The point is that democracy is nice, but it doesn't necessarily answer questions of tolerance.