In the Land of Believers

Everyone vilifies everyone; that’s just how politics works. But with the rise of the Christian right, it’s gotten weirder: The supposedly forgiving Christians are calling Obama the Antichrist and the angry left consider Christians hate-filled. That’s not really how it’s supposed to go. Welch, an atheist Jew who moved from California to Virginia in 2002, had the idea to go “undercover” at Thomas Road Baptist Church, the pulpit of the Rev. Jerry Falwell, maybe known best to you as the guy who blamed September 11 on homosexuals and the ACLU.
Welch is determinedly open-minded and, no surprises here: She finds the people who attend the evangelical church aren’t demons of the right, they’re mostly caring people. She helps them in soup kitchens and accompanies them to off-site ministries. What’s fascinating to her is how she falls under the spell of Falwell. Though she abhors his message on TV, she admits to being drawn by his charisma. In fact, the most fascinating and illuminating chapter of the book happens roughly halfway through, when the reverend dies, and Welch feels legitimate grief, while Bill Maher and Christopher Hitchens take to the airwaves to celebrate. Welch feels adrift: “Suddenly I feared that my homeland was no longer my home.”
Which actually speaks to the somewhat silly premise of this book: Most of us on the Left, or even a little to the Left, don’t think Hitchens and Olbermann and their ilk actually speak for us. Why is it assumed that the hatred Falwell tossed into the ether would be the default setting for Christians? There’s a bit of a false feeling to the “investigation,” even if it does yield some interesting finds.
Though Welch loves a preacher’s hyperbole (“I felt scalped by surprise”), her devotion to her mission runs as deep as some of her new, religious friends. And she shares the same wide-eyed hopefulness with someone new to the flock, which allows her undercover work to take on a degree of sincerity that far surpasses stunt journalism. Of course, the book is essentially a 300-plus page argument for empathy and nuance. But hey, neither side’s devoted that much time to understanding each other since before Falwell was televangelism’s biggest star.



