Are churches politically divided?
Plus, why the legal definition of "minister" is crucial for the future of Christian higher education
Last weekend our family spent two nights camping with friends at a local state park. Between us there were six adults and 10 kids ranging from 4-11 years old. Several boys slept in a tent, while the younger kids and adults shared two pop-up campers. It lightly rained early each morning, but it was clear and warm by after breakfast.
So I like to think I speak with some authority when I say this: Anybody who tells you how relaxing family camping trips are is lying.
Sure, it was a memorable—and, in retrospect, refreshing—trip. The lake was less than 100 yards away, and the kids spent several hours over the weekend swimming, floating, and battling in the water. We had good food with good friends — and, once the kids were asleep, even enjoyed some peace and quiet together.
But it was decidedly not a relaxing weekend. Kids are needy. They are busy. And after hours of nonstop play followed by late nights, they are cranky.
My wife later said a friend sent her a meme with the following message: “Want to come camping this weekend so we can watch each other parent our kids and maybe have five minutes of uninterrupted conversation?”
Still, we can’t wait to do it again.
Two recent bits of news caught my eye as I was recuperating from our camping trip. The first is from journalist Kelsey Dallas, who has appeared in this space more than a few times. In her latest State of Faith newsletter, Kelsey reports on a new survey from the Public Religion Research Institute on political divides among churches. Conventional wisdom holds that American churches are increasingly divided along political and cultural lines, with the Trump presidency and coronavirus pandemic acting as important accelerants.
Interestingly, PRRI’s findings paint a different picture. In a survey of nearly 6,000 people, just 13 percent of Christians reported that their church was more divided by politics today than it was five years. That number was highest among Democrats (19 percent) and Hispanic Catholics (18 percent), and lowest among Black and Hispanic Protestants (eight and nine percent).
I shared this study with my wife, and she offered one explanation: Perhaps people experience fewer divisions today due to previous social sorting and the prevalence of echo chambers in our social networks. It’s a reasonable explanation. Then again, PRRI also finds that a majority of people from almost all Christian traditions report being at their current church for more than 10 years — this includes 59 percent of all churchgoers, and 70 percent of Black Protestants.
If nothing else, this study challenges the prevailing narrative of churches left and right being plagued by political and cultural divisions, while leaving the door open for compelling anecdotes to the contrary.
The second item—and, really, the one that prompted today’s entry—comes from Reuters, describing a recent court decision involving Liberty University and one of its former faculty members. And while the court ultimately dismissed the faculty member’s lawsuit against the evangelical university, it was dueling concurring opinions from two federal appellate judges that grabbed my attention.
Let’s back up a bit. In 2018 Eva Palmer was fired from Liberty, where she had been an art professor for thirty years. Palmer, who was 80 years old at the time, sued the school on the grounds that her termination was motivated by age discrimination. Liberty disputed Palmer’s account, but also argued that faculty at the university are effectively ministers, and thus ineligible to make employment discrimination claims under federal law.
Why is this an important argument? Because in 2012, the U.S. Supreme Court affirmed in Hosanna-Tabor v. EEOC that employment discrimination laws do not apply to churches and their religious schools. The justices, in a unanimous, 9-0 decision, stated that churches and religious entities have the freedom to hire and fire pastors and religious instructors at will, bolstering what is known as the “ministerial exception” in employment discrimination law. A church, the Court held, “must be free to choose those who will guide it on its way.”
In Palmer’s case, a district court judge dismissed her lawsuit due to lack of evidence, but also stated that Palmer was not a minister for the purposes of employment law. And while the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals upheld the dismissal of the case, two judges issued concurring opinions1 with very different understandings of the ministerial exception.
The question of who qualifies as a minister in terms of employment is one of major consequence for Christian higher education.
In his concurrence, Judge Julius Richardson explained that the ministerial exception should be read to cover all sorts of employees at religious institutions. Professors like Palmer, the judge reasoned, are expected to incorporate a “Biblical worldview” into their instruction. Indeed, Palmer previously stated that she “integrate[s] principles and concepts from scripture” into classes. Faculty, Richardson wrote, are therefore an essential part of the university’s mission of providing Christian education.
Moreover, Richardson cited the Supreme Court’s recent decision in Our Lady of Guadalupe School v. Morrissey-Berru as reason to apply the ministerial exception broadly. That decision, the judge wrote, confirmed there is no “rigid formula” for determining when—and to what positions—the ministerial exception applies. Religious institutions, therefore, ought to be given flexibility when determining whether certain positions serve ministerial functions, particularly when the institutions are not churches.
The other concurring opinion, from Judge Diana Motz, characterized the ministerial exception in a much narrower way. For Motz, this exception should reasonably apply to faculty teaching, say, religion and theology. But as Palmer taught art, and was apparently not in the habit of “incorporat[ing] a single theological lesson into her course syllabi,” the ministerial exception should not apply.
“It is a mistake,” Motz continued, “to conflate Palmer’s personal devotion to her faith with whether she was the type of key employee who performed a vital religious function for her employer.” Understanding the exception in this way, the judge argued, was consistent with the Supreme Court’s earlier precedents, not a departure from them. Our Lady, Motz said, did not create a blanket exemption for any employee at a religiously-affiliated entity.
The question of who qualifies as a minister in terms of employment is one of major consequence for Christian higher education. Currently, many Christian universities base their hiring—and, occasionally, firing—decisions on a person’s commitment to their institutional mission and statement of faith. If someone does not affirm that mission or faith statement, they are not seen as qualified to teach at that university.
Consider my employer, John Brown University. During the interview process candidates are interviewed by a committee that explores the candidate’s faith commitments. Candidates also have one-on-one meetings with the president, where he asks them what they think about the university’s view of Christian doctrine and mission. I can only imagine this is common practice at other Christian colleges and universities.
Now suppose a candidate—say, a chemist—affirms a university’s faith statement but also reveals that he is in a monogamous relationship with another man. Suppose this contradicts the university’s stated beliefs about the nature of sexuality and marriage, making it highly unlikely that the candidate would be hired. Could this candidate then sue for employment discrimination?
University officials would argue he could not, as faculty are considered crucial in the university’s commitment to the integration of faith and learning, and are therefore ministers of the university’s religious mission. On the other hand, the candidate might argue that, as a chemistry teacher, his role is to instruct science classes, not material related to Christianity or the Bible. A chemist, the argument could go, should not be seen as a minister as the law currently understands it. Universities might reasonably expect their faculty to be Christians, but that does not make them ministers.
So, should faculty at Christian universities be covered under the ministerial exception? As someone who has taught in Christian higher education for almost a decade, I think the answer has to be “yes.” Faculty are interviewed and regularly evaluated on the basis of teaching, scholarship, service, and “spiritual modeling.” It is expected that faculty attend and contribute to a local church body. It is common for faculty to lead their classes in prayer. It is normal for faculty to counsel students in the midst of a crisis of faith, and to pray with them during particularly difficult moments in life.
If the law were to hold that faculty at Christian colleges and universities are not covered by the ministerial exception, it would be the beginning of the end of holistic Christian higher education in the United States.
As a political scientist, I do not teach classes on theology. I am not a scholar of the Bible. But I do aim to cultivate in students a thoughtful and critical vision of what it means to a faithful Christian citizen in a world marred by sin and selfishness. I consistently raise questions about what is required of Christians living in a pluralistic democracy. I may not be a minister in the same way that my pastor is, but that does not mean I serve no religious purpose for my university.
If the law were to hold that faculty at Christian colleges and universities are not covered by the ministerial exception, it would be the beginning of the end of holistic Christian higher education in the United States. Christian universities would be told that they must employ faculty who do not conform to their institutional missions. Such a perspective would render principles found in the First Amendment—including free exercise of religion, speech, and association—essentially meaningless.
Would some colleges and universities engage in discrimination having nothing to do with their religious missions, only to invoke the ministerial exception as cover? Probably. It would be unethical to terminate an employee for medical reasons, or to not hire a faculty member because of his or her race or gender. These decisions, while not illegal under the ministerial exception, would nevertheless be wrong.
So consider perhaps the most famous line from any comic book: “With great power comes great responsibility.”2 Christian colleges and universities must meet the lofty principles afforded to them by the law and the Constitution. It falls to these institutions to set a consistent and positive example in their employment decisions. Otherwise, while the law will respect and affirm their conduct, an increasingly skeptical culture will not.
Concurring opinions are not legally binding in the same way majority opinions are, but they do communicate how judges understand the law and can serve as signals to future litigants bringing future cases.
Amazing Fantasy #15 (1962).