Breakpoint

John and Maria discuss that parents who are engaged in community organizations or events can promote Christian morality, and even have a redemptive influence, without being deemed Christian nationalists. Afterwards, they point out how Lila Rose, founder and president of the pro-life organization Live Action, powerfully debated with Dr. Phil and other audience members on the Dr. Phil show. They conclude with how the story of the lawsuit against Oberlin College shows the "critical theory mood" of our culture.

A new workplace trend, called "Quiet Quitting," isn't about quitting your job but about how hard you work while there. It's about rejecting "the idea of going above and beyond," said one influencer. "You're still performing your duties but you're no longer subscribing to the hustle culture mentality that work has to be your life." There's been so much upheaval in the economy and the workforce lately, and Christians can point to a better way: God designed humans to work, but not for work's sake or even consumption's sake. Work is a way we image God, making the world all it can be. And God also gave the gift of rest, baking the Sabbath into the creation and even modeling it for us. It's almost as if God knew that after the fall, humans would be tempted to make work an idol. (Hint: He did know.) What "quiet quitting" misses is that it's not about whether or not to "go above and beyond." It's about whether our work has purpose, not as an end in and of itself, but as an act of worship, excellence, and love of neighbor.

It's tempting to think that secularized academics are too intellectual to ever come to the kind of "childlike faith" that Jesus described, or that, if they ever were to trust Christ, they'd have to abandon their academic pursuits. However, like once-liberal theologian Thomas Oden or once-radical feminist English professor Rosaria Champagne Butterfield, the case of Rodney Stark suggests otherwise. Dr. Stark's research and reading, specifically about the impact of Christianity in history, was part of what moved him to become a committed believer. Stark was born in North Dakota in 1934. Oddly enough, he played high school football with Alvin Plantinga, the great Christian philosopher. After a stint in the army, he studied journalism in college, graduating in 1959. Once, during his early career as a reporter, he covered a meeting of the Oakland Spacecraft Club where the speaker claimed to have visited Mars, Venus, and the moon in a flying saucer. After Stark reported the story straight, with no sarcasm or snide comments, he was assigned all of the odd stories that came along. Stark's ability to treat people's beliefs seriously and recognize that, at least for them, these beliefs are plausible, was a key element in his decision to shift from journalism to sociology. In 1972, after completing his graduate work at the University of California-Berkley, he was hired as a professor of sociology and comparative religion at the University of Washington. Stark focused his research on why people were religious. How did they understand their faith? What did they get out of it? How did they live it out? From this focus, Stark developed a theory of conversion that emphasized social relationships, felt needs, and personal choice. In essence, Stark concluded that conversion was a rational choice, based on the expectation that one would receive more from the religion than it would cost to join it. He was among the first sociologists to recognize that competition between religious groups increased the overall religiosity of a community. In other words, a religious group with a monopoly tends to get lazy and neglect meeting needs and conducting outreach. Stark was also critical of the standard academic view that secularization was an inevitable result of modernization. Instead, he argued this idea was wildly wrong because sociologists misunderstood religion and failed to account for religious revivals and innovation. His book The Rise of Christianity was published in 1996. In it, Stark argued that the incredible growth and spread of Christianity were because it offered more to people than any of its competitors. In particular, Stark argued that the rapid growth of the Church was, in large part, due to how Christians treated women. This, especially compared to the pagan treatment of women, led to more conversions, which led to the faith being spread through social networks. Also, prohibitions of abortion and infanticide led to an organic growth of the Church, and how Christians responded to persecution and plague led to a growth in credibility. The Rise of Christianity was so groundbreaking that it was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. After this, Stark focused his work on the history of Christianity. After writing two books on the historical impact of monotheism — first One True God in 2001 and then For the Glory of God: How Monotheism Led to Reformations, Science, Witch Hunts, and the End of Slavery in 2003, Stark wrote what may be his greatest book, The Victory of Reason: How Christianity Led to Freedom, Capitalism, and Western Success, in 2005. In 2004, the year before The Victory of Reason was published, Stark commented, "I have trouble with faith. I'm not proud of this. I don't think it makes me an intellectual. I would believe if I could, and I may be able to before it's over." The Victory of Reason first brought Dr. Stark to the attention of Chuck Colson, who was astounded that a self-professed agnostic sociologist was clear-eyed and honest enough to recognize and highlight the effects of Christianity on the world. Chuck featured The Victory of Reason on Breakpoint and included it in the Centurions Program (now known as the Colson Fellows). After the commentary aired, Rodney Stark contacted Chuck Colson, and thanked him for the kind words. He also told Colson that he had come to faith in Christ, which he publicly announced in 2007. In 2004, Stark became the distinguished professor of the social sciences at Baylor University, as well as the co-director of the Institute for Studies of Religion and founding editor of the Interdisciplinary Journal of Research on Religion. Although Baylor is a Baptist school, Stark preferred to call himself an "independent Christian" and continued to produce important and sometimes controversial books on Christianity, history, and culture. Throughout his career, Stark was an irascible critic of political and religious biases in the academic world, especially in his own field of sociology. His intellectual brilliance is attested by his groundbreaking work, and his intellectual honesty and integrity by his faith, a faith he studied for many years.

One of the most sensational claims of abortion advocates is that "pregnancy is more dangerous than legalized abortion." This argument is largely based on a 2012 study by Elizabeth Raymond and David A. Grimes in the journal of Obstetrics & Gynecology. However, as James Studnicki and Tessa Longbons described recently in National Review, this claim is "demonstrably false." By its own admission, the Raymond and Grimes study underreported maternal deaths associated with abortion. While deaths involving pregnancy and childbirth are subject to national data collection in the United States, no consistent metric exists for reporting deaths related to abortion. In other words, the data sets Raymond and Grimes used compared apples and oranges and "should have rendered the paper's conclusions invalid." In fact, multiple other studies reach the opposite conclusion. In Finland, for example, researchers found that mortality after abortion is three times higher than childbirth. Much of the so-called "conventional wisdom" on abortion is invalid and treats pregnancy itself like a disease, unborn children as a pathogen, and abortion as a cure. None of which could be farther from the truth.

Science is supposed to be objective, an undeniable source for truth not subject to fads or fashion. The phrases "scientists say" or "the science is settled" is supposed to inspire hushed awe and open ears. Scientists are supposed to serve as arbiters of truth, at least on questions within their fields of expertise, able to settle disputes and sort fact from fiction. Many progressives, especially, employ the phrase "the science says" to silence disagreement about everything from climate policy to gender ideology. "The science," at least in certain circles, is an authority appealed to in order to end debate and dismiss critics of favored policies. Increasingly, the theory that science is a neutral arbiter or source of truth looks shaky, especially when scientific publications openly announce their commitment to ideology over evidence. Bell Curve author Charles Murray recently tweeted an editorial published by the peer-reviewed journal, Nature Human Behaviour. Murray (who is no stranger to what happens to those who publish politically incorrect findings) highlighted a section in which the editors announced they will be censoring scientific results that do not conform to a favored political narrative. Specifically, the editors reserved the right to amend, refuse, or retract "[c]ontent that is premised upon the assumption of inherent biological, social, or cultural superiority or inferiority of one human group over another based on race, ethnicity, national or social origin, sex, gender identity, sexual orientation, religion, political or other beliefs, age, disease, [or] (dis)ability …" They also reserved the right to censor content that "undermines — or could be reasonably perceived to undermine — the rights and dignities of an individual or human group on the basis of" any of these categories, as well as to refuse submissions that are "exclusionary of a diversity of voices …" It doesn't take a lot of imagination to see how language this sweeping could be used. For instance, studies that find children do best in homes with their biological mother and father could be "reasonably perceived" by the editors of Nature Human Behaviour to suggest the "inherent inferiority" of same-sex parents. Research that finds female athletes are disadvantaged when competing against biological men could "undermine ... the rights and dignities" of transgender opponents. A study that finds little girls do better in societies that don't practice female genital mutilation could be censored for its "assumption of inherent … cultural superiority." As Murray tweeted, "It is hard to exaggerate the scientific insanity this represents." Even psychologist and science author Steven Pinker, no friend of Christians or religious conservatives, slammed the journal, tweeting: "Nature Human Behavior [sic] is no longer a peer-reviewed scientific journal but an enforcer of a political creed … (how do we know articles have been vetted for truth rather than political correctness)?" It's a good question, and one more people should be asking. Increasingly, the scientific enterprise itself is looking shaky, not only because of political correctness but because the practices on which science depends — peer review and replication — are breaking down. Consider an analysis published in the journal Science last year in which behavioral economists at the University of California found that the least reliable studies are the ones other scientists cite the most. This team analyzed over 20,000 papers in some of the top psychology, economy, and science journals, and found that "studies that failed to replicate since their publication were on average 153 times more likely to be cited" than studies that did — mostly because their findings were more "interesting." And this problem was found to be worst in leading journals Nature and Science. The takeaway here is not that science is bad. On the contrary, science is a gift of God, made possible in how He made the world and His image bearers. Science has made the world immeasurably richer, and the world arguably owes a debt for these riches to Christian assumptions and pioneers. However, scientists and science editors are human and just as vulnerable to bad ideas and dangerous ideologies as other humans. Reform can happen within a field of knowledge. Thus, science can regain its authority as a source of truth and public good, rather than propaganda. Christians in the sciences have an especially important role to play, as voices protesting ideologically loaded conclusions and as examples of integrity and objectivity. Until that reform happens, anything announced with "the science says," especially on intensely politically charged issues, should be greeted with suspicion. As Pinker said, we have a right to know whether their claims "have been vetted for truth rather than political correctness."

Recently (and finally), the United Nations has released a report condemning China's treatment of Uyghurs. Given China's clout within the UN, its strenuous PR and lobbying campaigns, and its ability to intimidate scholars and witnesses, the report's release was delayed for months. Finally, in the final few minutes of UN human rights commissioner Michelle Bachelet's term, the report was released. The report strongly condemned China's actions and called for "urgent attention" from the UN, validating years of warnings by watchdogs, observers, and activists worldwide. This one report by itself may not change the terrible situation on the ground for the Uyghurs in China's Xinjiang province, but nothing will change without first telling the truth. As one article in the Associated Press noted, "That the report was released was in some ways as important as its contents." Alexandr Solzhenitsyn, was himself a witness to the internment of untold millions in the former USSR. He put it this way, "The simple step of a simple courageous man is not to partake in falsehood.… One word of truth shall outweigh the whole world."

Religious liberty is a human right. So why are American courts so confused? In recent months, American courts have continued to grapple with the size, scope, and even the definition of religious freedom. For Christians who believe that religious liberty for all is a public good, there's good news and bad news. The good news includes the decision from the Fifth Circuit two weeks ago in the case of Franciscan Alliance, a group of Catholic hospitals and doctors that sued the federal government in 2016. Rules issued from the Biden Administration would have forced doctors within Franciscan Alliance to perform so-called "transition surgeries" on patients with gender dysphoria, as well as provide abortions for patients who requested them. Lawyers for the hospital system argued that these procedures are violations of the oath doctors take to "do no harm" to their patients, and therefore a violation of the doctors' religious freedom. Thankfully, the Fifth Circuit respected Supreme Court precedent and ruled in favor of Franciscan Alliance. The bad news includes a case out of New York, in which a trial court ruled that Yeshiva University, a Jewish school in New York City, must allow an LGBTQ club to establish on campus. The university argued the club's mission openly violated the school's religious beliefs about sexuality. In a particularly bizarre ruling, a judge sided with the LGBTQ club by reasoning that Yeshiva University is not a religious institution. "Yeshiva" is the Hebrew word for "a school that studies the Talmud," or ancient rabbinic writings on Scripture. Still, the judge cited Yeshiva University's charter, which refers to the school as an "educational institution," as evidence that the school therefore cannot be religious. The question at the heart of each of these cases is the same: What does it mean to be religious? Though it is good news for everyone, doctors and patients, that Franciscan Alliance will not be forced to mutilate bodies in the name of "transgender medicine," the judge in this case ruled explicitly that the government could not violate these doctors' religious beliefs. It is not good news that the reality that men and women are different is being denied, or that bodies are being mutilated and called "healthcare," or that opposing being involved is reduced to a "religious belief." In the same way, the idea that we should not take the life of a child in or out of a mother's womb should be obvious, not reduced to merely "religious." In one sense, every law is religious in the sense that they are predicated on some view of the universe, human nature, and morality. They assume that certain things ought to be done and others ought not to be done. Everything we do, including where we work, what we value, and how we raise our kids, is built upon moral beliefs about the world, whether Christian or not. Even if we don't always act consistently with those beliefs, religious liberty ensures the right to call upon these views inside and outside of Church, synagogue, mosque, or Twitter. In our culture, however, certain views are designated "religious" and others are not. Therefore, the "religious" views are considered biased exceptions to be tolerated. In fact, progressive judges and administrations often deem policy positions they don't like as "religious" as a way of suggesting they should not be taken seriously in the public square. In other words, taking innocent human life and mutilating healthy bodies are presented as the "obviously right" views, and opposing these horrors is dismissed as "religious." All of which says a lot about the moral status of our culture. Further, it misunderstands the meaning of "religious" and leads to obvious violations of religious liberty. Christian doctors within the Franciscan Alliance cannot leave their worldviews at the operating room door. Yeshiva University doesn't stop being religious when it educates. In fact, it educates because it is religious. The Supreme Court, at least currently, recognizes this reality, but some lower courts do not. Thus, the absurd ruling that claims Yeshiva University is not religious because it educates, or the one in Colorado which held that a Christian school chaplain wasn't in a "religious position," or the lower court ruling from a few years ago that attempted to force a group of Catholic nuns to pay for abortion and contraception. In such a conflicted time, Christians must, more and more, live like Christians. We must compellingly demonstrate that the resurrected Christ we worship in one building one morning a week shapes how we live and act in any other building every other day of the week. And we continue to defend religious liberty as a public good for all people. About this, the U.S. Constitution is clear. Hopefully, our nation's courts will gain clarity too.

Recently, the world learned of the death of Mikhail Gorbachev. While living to age 91 is an achievement for anyone, it's a historical exception for a dictator to live 30 years past his downfall. Gorbachev did, having survived from when the first waves of American pop culture entered his homeland decades ago to when those same waves receded in renewed hostility. Gorbachev's legacy is, to say the least, complicated. His former subjects in Eastern Europe will likely shed few tears, his former enemies in the West have praised that he chose peace in the face of imperial collapse, and his fellow Russians mourn his role in their nation's lost status on the world stage. The last leader of the Soviet Union, Gorbachev was once one of two most powerful men in the world. He died without the acclaim and power he once commanded. His death reminds us that no matter how great, death comes to us all. We do not control the timing nor manner of our demise. All of that is in God's hands. We can only strive to live lives worth remembering and emulating.

The Queen has died. When those words were heard and repeated, over and over last Thursday, people around the world knew immediately which queen. In fact, few are alive today who can remember a time when she was not on Britain's throne. She lived to 96, not only the longest reigning monarch in British history but the second longest reigning monarch in all of history, surpassed only by King Louis XIV of France, the "Sun King." Among the many anecdotes that put her life in historical context, Elizabeth II was queen for a full third of the existence of the United States of America as a nation. When Elizabeth ascended to power, Winston Churchill was the prime minister. Just two days before she died, in a final act of royal duty, Elizabeth received a 15th person into that high office. When she began her rule in 1952, there was a British Empire, and not just in name. Though every nation within the empire would gain independence, she remained head of state of a dozen of them, including Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and other smaller countries around the world. Elizabeth's historic tenure as queen might have never happened, except for a domestic turmoil that has never quite seemed to leave the House of Windsor alone. Her father, George VI, assumed the throne only because her uncle abdicated it for an illicit romance. Her sister's temperament did not, shall we say, "fit" her royal duties. Her eldest son, now King Charles III, entered a loveless marriage in the midst of his own extramarital affairs, while her second son ruined his place in the world by falling in with Jeffrey Epstein. Her grandson Prince Harry is full of bitter words and accusations about the royal family. In this way, the royal family was a reflection of changes seen across the Western world during the Queen's reign. Marriage rates in the U.K. have dropped by double digits in the last few decades, and divorces have increased by several orders of magnitude. While the Britain she inherited in her youth famously stood up for liberty and democracy against tyranny, corporate and government powers often enforce conformity and silence. Weekly church attendance in Britain has dropped to less than a million each week in a population of nearly 70 million. Add in technological change, war, globalization, populism, the rise and fall of global powers, and it may be that the Queen's most remarkable achievement was preserving the monarchy as a legitimate institution amidst the flux and chaos of the last few decades. As one who could, as Kipling once put it, "walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch," she played the part of elegant empress, with an impish sense of humor and a delightfully ordinary demeanor. As such, Queen Elizabeth was, in many ways, an always-relevant anachronism. She was an incarnation of G.K. Chesterton's call for a "democracy of the dead" or C.S. Lewis' warning against "chronological snobbery." In an age that confuses change as progress, her life was a reminder that certain truths and duties do not change with the times—eternals that are not subject to our whims or imaginations—but are revealed, at least in part, through the accumulated wisdom of the ages. In fact, "duty" is the word most commonly used to describe Elizabeth II, as if she inherited her father's sense of it along with the throne. As Bloomberg's Adrian Woolridge noted on Twitter, "The Queen grasped Edmund Burke's great dictum that, for a true conservative, the point of change is to stay the same, at least in the things that really matter. Monarchy is a restraint on modernity or it is nothing." She was barely an adult when she declared, "I declare before you all that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong." Years later, she reflected back on that promise, "When I was 21, I pledged my life to the service of our people, and I asked for God's help to make good that vow. Although that vow was made in my salad days, when I was green in judgement, I do not regret, or retract, one word of it." There are few contentions more despised today than the idea that our rights must be balanced by our duties, but Elizabeth thought of the crown as a calling, a part of something greater than herself. How she carried out those duties in an ever-changing world points to a commitment that goes beyond tradition or even the monarchy. As she put it herself, monarchs do not lead troops into battle or rule from on high anymore. So, she committed to lead by serving, which is of course the way of Jesus, who said the greatest among us are servants. In many of her annual Christmas radio messages, she pointed to Christ as the One she sought to follow and emulate. Leading by serving is one of the things that the New Testament calls the "fruit" of faith. Having reached the end of her era, it's difficult to imagine what the monarchy will become. As Jake Meador from Mere Orthodoxy observed, "After she and Benedict XVI pass, I think European Christendom will be conclusively gone from this world. Something else will come and God will continue to work. But the loss is still immense." Indeed, it is, but what makes a person "great" has not changed. Around the world, followers of Christ are living faithful lives, committed to what God has called them to, in truth and service. Their stage may not be as global or their mistakes as public, but their lives point to the Sovereign who sits on the throne of heaven and earth and whose kingdom shall have no end. That faithfulness is, in God's economy, greatness.

Last Saturday was World Suicide Prevention Day, a time to remember that suicide is a growing problem. In the U.S., it increased by 30% from 2000-2018, and that was before COVID. In 2019, it was the second leading cause of death for ages 10-34. Christians aren't excluded. LifeWay research has shown that 32% of Protestant church-going respondents had a family member or "close acquaintance" die by suicide. Because of this great need, Colson Educators has teamed with Dr. Matthew Sleeth, a former emergency room physician and chief of hospital medical staff, to offer a free online course called Hope Always, based on the title of his book Hope Always: How to Be a Force for Life in a Culture of Suicide. This course, which you can take for free at any time, will help you know how to talk with loved ones about the difficult topic of suicide. It offers scientifically grounded information with biblically based theology to start a conversation about mental health and how the Church can offer light and hope. Go to courses.colsoneducation.org/hopealways to register for this course today.