God On Their Side

If God is indeed up there – on a throne, in the clouds – then what He's watching is a wildly unbalanced game of Red Rover. The exuberant kids have all run to one side. The quiet kids, who used to have a pretty good team, are drifting away one by one. And the cool kids stand in a knot, making fun of the players.

The cool kids, a small but increasing minority, profess no religion at all. They're mainly pro-Kerry Democrats.

The exuberant team, the evangelical Christians, is growing so fast, and in such determinedly political ways, that they've tipped the country Republican. They're also boosting traditionalist attitudes toward religion within the party.

And the big loser, the team whose members are walking off the field? Mainline Protestantism, the calm, reasoned faith that shaped this country from its colonial beginnings through the 1960s. Its liberal clergy pushed hard for social reforms, economic equality and civil rights. Its members, who used to be the northeastern sort of Republicans, are increasingly Democratic, more comfortable with John Kerry's style than George Bush's.

But the mainliners are quiet – and their numbers are diminishing so fast, they're not sure they'd be heard if they screamed.

The Vanishing Protestant Majority, a recent University of Chicago study, reports that the overall percentage of Protestants in the U.S. may have already fallen below 50 percent. The total started to slide noticeably in 1993; and by 2002, it had fallen 11 percentage points, to 52 percent. "The change," said Tom W. Smith, director of the General Social Survey whose data fed the study, "is big in magnitude and rapid in terms of demographics. The country is moving toward becoming a nation of minorities."

In a Tower of Babel where everyone speaks a different moral language, one needs vast patience to learn the nuances. It's easier to grab a phrasebook and make big gestures. Reach for people's deepest needs, allay their fears, repeat the same simple phrases so people can nod in eager agreement.

It's especially helpful if you can state, categorically, that God is on your side.

Getting Filled Up

West of St. Louis, in a moat of malls, farmland and faux-gentry subdivisions, the Family Church is holding its 7 a.m. Sunday service, the first of four. It's barely sun-up, yet there are more people in these cushy movie-theatre chairs than most traditional churches see in their pews at their main service. The music is recording studio quality, and when Pastor Jeff, as though on impulse, invites someone to read from the Bible, the passage is instantly projected in big white letters on the wall.

He's following the megachurch formula, anchoring his down-to-earth preaching in the Bible's most hopeful passages and avoiding shame or hellfire. Thousands come to listen, excited by global missions and social outreach and eager for the 24/7 programming that addresses their personal problems, giving them firm rules and Biblical certainty without ever, ever judging them.

"We're literally coming to the gas tank and getting filled up," Pastor Jeff calls out, and a ripple of assent goes through the room. "So how do we obtain help from God for our needs?" He jokes that he made 35 altar calls before he felt secure about his own salvation. "Now I know His ear is inclined to my prayer. How do I know that? Because I found it in Scripture! You pray for a good surgery and there's a good surgery – is that a miracle? Of course it is! Because it could have been a bad surgery."

On the wall behind him, where other worshippers might hang a crucifix or rest the Torah, huge brass letters spell out "HONOR GOD" and "HELP PEOPLE." Replacing the mysteries. Because when Pastor Jeff scans his flock's anxious faces, he sees a hunger for clarity and peace, success, love, reassurance.