I was particularly intrigued by your article about Christians who play football–how they reconcile their faith, with its emphasis on humility and turning the other cheek, with their sport, where hitting opponents as hard as one can, to the point of trying to hurt them, is the norm. How was that article received in our football loving culture? Did any of the feedback help you to better understand the phenomenon?
That's actually an article where my initial suspicions were only confirmed and amplified by my reporting. Football lovers like to think that team sports, and football in particular, promote virtue for those who play them. It's clear the opposite is true. The research shows that participation in high-level athletics makes one less moral, more interested just in winning. And my interviews with Christian coaches were horrifying: they all justify to themselves all kinds of violence on the field, as well as dishonesty. Take an issue like lying to a referee: "Yes, I made that catch! I didn't drop the ball!" Now, you'd think a "Christian" player would put some premium on telling the truth. But they all rationalize lying, in part because everyone does it. As if God's rules can take a back seat to the custom of the sport.
Religious believers often feel that they're treated unfairly by the media. Do they have a point? What aspects of religion do journalists regularly get wrong?
Most reporters have a superficial knowledge of whatever beat they're on; that's true of me every time I wander from the religion beat, where I actually have pretty deep knowledge. So reporters get religion wrong, but they get a lot of things wrong: labor relations, war, etc. I don't think there is a special animus against religion. One could argue there is special gentle treatment for religion. Religious believers say things all the time for which there is no real evidence — that's what "faith" is, by definition — and reporters don't call them on it, unless the religion is new and thus seems weird, like Scientology. But if a religion is old and traditional, like Judaism and Christianity, its adherents get to go on about the Rapture, or the Resurrection, or whatever, and reporters never insert paragraphs like, "Asked for evidence that the Rapture would someday come, the minister could only point to the Book of Revelation."
In recent years, you've written a lot about fatherhood. There is a tension between preserving your family's privacy and exploring this aspect of life along with your readers. How do you decide how much to share? Do you think your approach will change as your kids age?
I always ask myself if I'm writing something that will embarrass my children someday, and if so, I don't do it. Same for other family members, of course -- I don't write things that would embarrass my mom or my wife. But yes, the approach is already changing, as my eldest daughter reads and my second daughter is starting to read. They even have a vague notion that all knowledge can be found on "Google." I would add that having written a memoir about my own childhood, I know that the young child I write about in that book doesn't seem like me, but rather a different person altogether. So I trust that the young children in my fatherhood essays won't embarrass my grown-up daughters too badly, someday. But yes, I err on the side of discretion and privacy.