World Religions News

(RNS) — Back in 2021, a group of evangelical families, including the founders of Hobby Lobby, began funding a new ad campaign, hoping to help skeptical Americans give Jesus a second look and to convince people to be a little kinder to one another.

The website for the campaign describes the mission this way: “Our hope was that more people could encounter love. More joy. More peace. A greater sense of purpose.”

Known as “He Gets Us,” the campaign, which launched in 2022, focused on the human side of the Christian Messiah, with billboards and black-and-white video ads showing people with loneliness, anxiety and other struggles, and ending with the claim that Jesus understood those struggles. Other ads showed Jesus as an immigrant or a rebel against the status quo, who loved those he disagreed with.

An ad for the 2023 Super Bowl, titled “Love Your Enemies,” featured images of Americans at each other’s throats and in each other’s faces, as English singer Rag’n’Bone Man’s hit song “Human” played.

“Jesus loved the people we hate,” the ad claimed.

For the 2024 Super Bowl, “He Gets Us” offered an ad with a series of foot-washing tableaus, each featuring an unexpected pairing: an older woman washing the feet of a young girl, a cowboy the feet of an Indian, a white Catholic priest the feet of a queer Black person.

Last year’s Super Bowl ad continued the “let’s all get along” theme, showing Americans from different walks of life helping each other, including a man in a John 3:16 hat embracing another man at a Pride march, with the tagline “Jesus showed us what greatness was.” That ad also featured Johnny Cash’s cover of “Personal Jesus.”

Yet four years — and more than $700 million – after the launch of the ad campaign, Americans remain just as polarized. Few seem to buy the idea that Jesus can bring the country together or feel a need to love their political enemies. And while the decline in religion in America has paused for now, that decline will likely be short-lived, according to long-term polling data.

That reality, along with pushback from evangelicals that the ad campaigns were too “woke,” has led the “He Gets Us” campaign, now run by a nonprofit called Come Near, to shift course.

In the last few months, and leading up to the 2026 Super Bowl, a new set of ads, known as “Loaded Words,” focuses less on social conflicts and more on the pressures and noise of modern life.  One online ad, called “Don’t,” which has been viewed more than 68 million times, starts with a close-up on a newborn, with a mother’s voice saying, “Don’t be afraid.”

That’s followed by a host of other voices, giving warnings like “don’t mess up,” “don’t make a scene” and “don’t you dare let us down.”

“What if the only expectation was love,” the ad asks. “Jesus doesn’t expect us to earn it.”

Another ad, called “Do,” looks at the pressure to do it all — to be popular, to be beautiful, to be a team player, to be the best. Simon Armour, creative director for Come Near, told RNS in an interview that the ads were developed using what he called a “neighbor-led” approach, built on research that asked Americans about their spiritual needs and life experience.

That research, said Armour, showed that Americans felt pressured to be busier, to acquire more stuff, to gain more recognition —so that life would then be meaningful.

“What we kept hearing was that was failing them — that their life is not turning out how they wanted,” he said. “They’re in this place where the noise is constant, with digital media, social media, our phones.”

Adweek, an industry publication, summed up the new take on “He Gets Us” this way: “In its fourth Super Bowl appearance, He Gets Us is getting personal.”

In the four years since “He Gets Us” launched its first campaign, the videos have been viewed nearly 10 billion times, while 56 million visitors have clicked on the HeGetsUs.com website, which has averaged about 700,000 visits a week since the “Loaded Words” campaign launched in December.

This year’s Super Bowl Ad, titled “More,” takes on the noise of modern life, with images of online influencers taking selfies and of a race car driving in circles and getting nowhere.

“The spot is really showing the thing we all feel, which is the absurdity of where things are at,” Armour said.  “We’re chasing our tails, we’re going fast, but going nowhere.”

Armour hopes the new ads will connect with the spiritual needs of viewers.

“It doesn’t matter who you are, where you’re from, where you’re at in a spiritual journey,” he said. “Jesus has something relevant for you. He gets you. He sees you. He knows you.”

For the campaign’s fourth Super Bowl, Armour said, the “He Gets Us” ads were due for a new direction. He said brands often evolve — otherwise, the message gets stale.

“After a period of time, people can see it coming,” he said. “It’s less surprising. It doesn’t cut through as much.”

The “He Gets Us” ad isn’t the only faith-based message that will air at the Super Bowl. The Blue Square Alliance Against Hate, a campaign to combat antisemitism and other forms of religious-based hatred, will also air an ad, called “Sticky Note,” during the NFL championship. That campaign was founded by Robert Kraft, owner of the New England Patriots. The Patriots will play the Seattle Seahawks for the Super Bowl title on Sunday (Feb. 8).

The “He Gets Us” ads have been controversial from the start, in part because the project was funded through The Signatry Foundation, a Christian donor-advised fund that has also donated to anti-abortion and anti-LGBT groups and had ties to conservative donors. Conservative critics, including the late Charlie Kirk, claimed the ads presented a distorted version of a Jesus who didn’t care about politics or who tolerated sinners, or that the ads were too weak and woke.

“The marketing group behind ‘He Gets Us’ has done one of the worst services to Christianity in the modern era,” Kirk said in 2023, after the foot-washing Super Bowl ad aired that year. “The Green family are decent wonderful people who have been taken for a ride by these woke tricksters. So sad!”

The ads have been costly.

According to disclosures filed with the IRS, the Signatry Foundation spent $429.8 million on “He Gets Us” from 2021 to 2024. Come Near, the nonprofit that took over the project in 2024, is organized as a church and does not disclose its finances. However, the nonprofit projected it would spend $345 million on the campaign between July 2024 and June 2026, when it applied for tax-exempt status. A spokesperson for Come Near said those figures “represented a reasonable and good faith projection of future finances.”  

Organizers told RNS in the past that the goal was spend a billion dollars on the campaign. 

Nicole Martin, a member of the Come Near board of directors, said that “people have a lot of opinions” about the “He Gets Us” ads. She said the ads aren’t aimed at people who already believe in Jesus and go to church. Instead, she said, they are meant to speak to outsiders.

“This is for people who just need to believe in something — and Jesus is the way to reach them,” she told RNS in an interview. “That’s why I am involved.”

Martin, who was recently named president and CEO of Christianity Today, a prominent evangelical publication, said the ad campaign has made Jesus part of the public conversation around the Super Bowl. That’s especially important in a time when religion in America has been on the decline, and many young people don’t know as much about Christianity.

“I think the goal is to try and shift that trend by a few degrees so that there would be a generation who wouldn’t grow up without knowing Jesus. That’s what I think they’re trying to do.”

She hopes the new ad will remind people there’s more to life than the noise of social media and online debates. And to take a break from the hectic pace of life.

“I’m hoping that this commercial will give us a chance to breathe,” she said.

(The Conversation) — On the 800th anniversary of the death of St. Francis of Assisi, founder of the Franciscan order, his body will be displayed for the first time ever in February 2026, at the Basilica of San Francesco. Millions of visitors are expected to converge in the small Tuscan town of Assisi to honor the 13th-century saint.

Francis, who died on Oct. 4, 1226, espoused care for the poor and reverence for the natural world. Those values were reflected centuries later in the actions of Pope Francis. The late pope chose his papal name in honor of the medieval saint’s embrace of the poor and his teachings on the moral responsibility of caring for all creatures on Earth.

As a scholar of medieval religious history, I’m aware that several dramatic episodes near the end of Francis’s life played a decisive role in shaping his legacy as the founder of the Franciscan order. These events also explain why his radical messages around poverty and the environment still resonate today.

Born rich, yet sought a life of poverty

Born into a merchant family in the Umbrian town of Assisi, in present-day Italy, around 1181, Francis famously renounced his family’s wealth. One narrative recounts how he shed his garments in the public square, much to the embarrassment of his father. Early biographers described him as “Il Poverello,” or “The Little Poor One.”

In 1209, he founded the mendicant Franciscan order, a religious group devoted to works of charity.

What historians and theologians know about Francis comes primarily from his own writings and hagiographic texts. Hagiography is a form of religious biography that celebrates the virtuous lives of saints, often recounting miracles attributed to them, both in their lifetime and after their death. Devotees often visit their tombs to seek a miraculous intervention. Some of the hagiographies of Francis were written shortly after his death in 1226.

Thomas of Celano, a Franciscan friar who knew Francis personally, wrote “The Life of Francis,” published just two years after his passing. This hagiography played a central role in his rapid canonization. It provided a detailed account of Francis’ life, and Pope Gregory IX relied on its evidence that Francis’ deeds merited sainthood.

Thirteenth-century theologian and philosopher St. Bonaventure wrote the “Life of St. Francis,” now regarded as the most comprehensive account of Francis’ life. This second religious biography captures not just the key events of Francis’ life, but it also articulates his enduring legacy as the founder of the Franciscans. There are currently about 650,000 Franciscans worldwide. Members of the Franciscan order are active in over 100 countries worldwide, focusing on issues of poverty, mission and education.

Both narratives describe key moments from Francis’ early years: After taking a vow of poverty, Francis begged for alms and also worked in leper colonies near Assisi. During this period, he founded the Franciscan order.

In 1210, he traveled to Rome and received papal approval for the order from Pope Innocent III.

In 1219, Francis traveled to Egypt to meet with Sultan al-Malik al-Kamil during the Fifth Crusade. He initially attempted to convert al-Kamil to Christianity through his preaching. According to Christian texts, the meeting ultimately led to safer conditions for prisoners of war during the Crusades.

Miracles and legends

The end of Francis’ life was believed to be marked by spiritual encounters that many Catholics interpret as signs of his holiness.

Recounted in great detail in the 13th-century hagiographies, these stories explain why he later became closely associated with animals and protection of the natural world. These encounters have also been replicated numerous times in artistic renderings of Francis.

As an itinerant preacher, Francis regularly traveled throughout Italy to spread the Gospel. But on one occasion, Francis paused to preach to a flock of birds. According to legend, they listened in rapt attention.

Thomas of Celano notes that from that day on, Francis’ sermons were not just intended for people but for “all birds, all animals, all reptiles, and also insensible creatures, to praise and love the creator.”

The idea that animals became transfixed by Francis’ preaching was reiterated in other devotional texts. In the 14th-century account “The Little Flowers of St. Francis,” there is another legendary story that Francis’ preaching reportedly stopped a wolf from terrorizing the Tuscan town of Gubbio.

Francis spoke to the wolf and extended his arm. According to the legend, the wolf then stretched out his paw as if to shake his hand. Such stories became central to shaping Francis’ identity as the patron saint of animals and, later, of the natural world.

In 1224, a severe illness left Francis nearly blind. Unable to write, he dictated the “Canticle of the Sun,” or “Canticle of the Creatures,” often considered the first major work in Italian vernacular literature.

Despite his failing eyesight, this devotional text reflects poetically on the beauty of God’s creations, referring to animals as “brothers and sisters.” It praises how the Earth “sustains us and governs and … produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.”

A fresco by Pietro Lorenzetti shows St. Francis receiving the stigmata. Basilica of San Francesco, Assisi, Italy.
dmitriymoroz/iStock/Getty Images Plus

Notably, Francis became the first person believed to receive the stigmata – wounds believed to mirror those of Christ’s crucifixion. Eyewitness accounts of Sept. 17, 1224, later recorded by Thomas of Celano, noted:

“A little before his death, our brother and father (Francis) appeared as if crucified, bearing in his body the five wounds which are truly the stigmata of Christ. In fact, his hands and feet had something like perforations made by the nails, front and back, that retained scars and showed the blackness of the nails. And to his side, he seemed to be pierced and blood often flowed out.”

Italian Renaissance artist Giotto di Bondone depicted these scenes in an elaborate fresco cycle in the Basilica of Santa Croce in Florence. These wounds furthered the idea of Francis as Christ-like: a motif explored often in devotional writing.

Influence on the modern-day papacy

Though Francis of Assisi was already recognized as a formative historical figure, he received renewed global attention on March 13, 2013, when then-Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio broke with the church tradition of taking a name in honor of a papal predecessor. He took the name Francis.

The choice was deliberate, given that Francis of Assisi’s mission was tied to living a life of poverty and caring for others. Soon after his election to the papacy, Francis expounded on his reasoning of his papal name, affirming that his namesake was “the man of poverty, the man of peace, the man who loves and protects creation.”

Basilica di San Francesco in Assisi.
Rosmarie Wirz/Moment Open/Getty Images

The “Canticle of the Sun” later shaped the pope’s signature 2015 encyclical, “Laudato Si’” – “Care for Our Common Home.” The first papal encyclical devoted to the environment, the document called for global dialogue and action to protect the planet. In it, Pope Francis wrote that Francis of Assisi “shows us just how inseparable the bond is between concern for nature, justice for the poor, commitment to society, and interior peace.” Since the death of the pope, “Laudato Si” has been hailed as one of the lasting contributions of the first Jesuit and Latin American-born pope.

As pilgrims travel to Assisi during this special Jubilee year of St. Francis, the church has emphasized it is not just about seeing the remains of the medieval visionary but to remember this “model of holiness of life and a constant witness of peace.”

Although this medieval saint, most commonly known through frescoes and fragmented texts, may seem like a distant historical figure, Francis’ teachings on care for the poor and responsibility toward the environment offer a lasting message to the 21st century.

(Vanessa Corcoran, Adjunct Professor of History, Georgetown University. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)

(The Conversation) — On Jan. 28, 2026, Bruce Springsteen released “Streets of Minneapolis,” a hard-hitting protest against the immigration enforcement surge in the city, including the killings of Renee Good and Alex Pretti. The song is all over social media, and the official video has already been streamed more than 5 million times. It’s hard to remember a time when a major artist has released a song in the midst of a specific political crisis.

Yet some of the most powerful music coming out of Minneapolis is of a much older vintage. Hundreds of clergy from around the country converged on the city in late January to take part in faith-based protests. Many were arrested while blocking a road near the airport. And they have been singing easily recognizable religious songs used during the Civil Rights movement of the 1950s and ‘60s, like “Amazing Grace,” “We Shall Overcome, and ”This Little Light of Mine.“

I have been studying the politics of music and religion for more than 25 years, and I wrote about songs I called “secular spirituals” in my 2004 book, “How Sweet the Sound: Music in the Spiritual Lives of Americans.” Sometimes called “freedom songs,” they were galvanizing more than 60 years ago, and are still in use today.

But why these older songs, and why do they usually come out of the church? There have been many protest movements since the mid-20th century, and they have all produced new music. The freedom songs, though, have a unique staying power in American culture – partly because of their historical associations and partly because of the songs themselves.

Stronger together

Some of protest music’s power has to do with singing itself. Making music in a group creates a tangible sense of community and collective purpose. Singing is a physical activity; it comes out of our core and helps foster solidarity with fellow singers.

Young activists working in the Deep South during the most violent years of the Civil Rights Movement spoke of the courage that came from singing freedom songs like “We Shall Overcome” in moments of physical danger. In addition to helping quell fear, the songs were unnerving to authorities trying to maintain segregation. “If you have to sing, do you have to sing so loud?” one activist recalled an armed deputy saying.

And when locked up for days in a foul jail, there wasn’t much else to do but sing. When a Birmingham, Alabama, police commissioner released young demonstrators he’d arrested, they recalled him complaining that their singing “made him sick.”

Test of time

Sometimes I ask students if they can think of more recent protest songs that occupy the same place as the freedom songs of the 1960s. There are some well-known candidates: Bob Marley’s “Get Up, Stand Up,” Green Day’s “American Idiot” and Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power,” to name a few. The Black Lives Matter movement alone helped produce several notable songs, including Beyonce’s “Freedom,” Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright and Childish Gambino’s ”This Is America.“

But the older religious songs have advantages for on-the-ground protests. They have been around for a long time, meaning that more people have had more chances to learn them. Protesters typically don’t struggle to learn or remember the tune. As iconic church songs that have crossed over into secular spirituals, they were written to be memorable and singable, crowd-tested for at least a couple of generations. They are easily adaptable, so protesters can craft new verses for their cause – as when civil rights activists added “We are not afraid” to the lyrics of “We shall overcome.”

Protesters sing at a civil rights demonstration in New York in 1963.
Bettmann Archive/Getty Images

And freedom songs link the current protesters to one of the best-known – and by some measures, most successful – protest movements of the past century. They create bonds of solidarity not just among those singing them in Minneapolis, but with protesters and activists of generations past.

These religious songs are associated with nonviolence, an important value in a citizen movement protesting violence committed by federal law enforcement. And for many activists, including the clergy who poured into Minneapolis, religious values are central to their willingness to stand up for citizens targeted by ICE.

Deep roots

The best-known secular spirituals actually predate the Civil Rights Movement. “We Shall Overcome” first appeared in written form in 1900 as “I’ll Overcome Some Day,” by the Methodist minister Charles Tindley, though the words and tunes are different. It was sung by striking Black tobacco workers in South Carolina in 1945 and made its way to the Highlander Folk School in Tennessee, an integrated training center for labor organizers and social justice activists.

It then came to the attention of iconic folk singer Pete Seeger, who changed some words and gave it wide exposure. “We Shall Overcome” has been sung everywhere from the 1963 March on Washington and anti-apartheid rallies in South Africa to South Korea, Lebanon and Northern Ireland.

“Amazing Grace” has an even longer history, dating back to a hymn written by John Newton: an 18th-century ship captain in the slave trade who later became an Anglican clergyman and penned an essay against slavery. Pioneering American gospel singer Mahalia Jackson recorded it in 1947 and sang it regularly during the 1960s.

Firmly rooted in Protestant Christian theology, the song crossed over into a more secular audience through a 1970 cover version by folk singer Judy Collins, which reached No. 15 on the Billboard charts. During Mississippi Freedom Summer of 1964, an initiative to register Black voters, Collins heard the legendary organizer Fannie Lou Hamer singing “Amazing Grace,” a song she remembered from her Methodist childhood.

Opera star Jessye Norman sang it at Nelson Mandela’s 70th birthday tribute in London, and bagpipers played it at a 2002 interfaith service near Ground Zero to commemorate victims of 9/11.

‘This little light’

Another gospel song used in protests against ICE – “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine” – has similarly murky historical origins and also passed through the Highlander Folk School into the Civil Rights Movement.

It expresses the impulse to be seen and heard, standing up for human rights and contributing to a movement much larger than each individual. But it could also mean letting a light shine on the truth – for example, demonstrators’ phones documenting what happened in the two killings in Minneapolis, contradicting some officials’ claims.

Like the Civil Rights Movement, the protests in Minneapolis involve protecting people of color from violence – as well as, more broadly, protecting immigrants’ and refugees’ legal right to due process. A big difference is that in the 1950s and 1960s, the federal government sometimes intervened to protect people subjected to violence by states and localities. Now, many Minnesotans are trying to protect people in their communities from agents of the federal government.

(David W. Stowe, Professor of Religious Studies, Michigan State University. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)

ROME (AP) — There is a long tradition of painters depicting real people in their religious art, but the appearance in a Roman church of a cherub that bears a striking resemblance to Premier Giorgia Meloni has sparked a minor scandal for both church and state in Italy.

The diocese of Rome and the Italian Culture Ministry both launched investigations into the recent renovations at the Basilica of San Lorenzo in Lucina, after photographs of the Meloni-esque cherub were published in Italian newspapers this weekend. Their swift and harsh reactions indicated little tolerance for the profane in a sacred place.

The ruckus has given the basilica, already well known as one of the oldest churches in Rome, newfound celebrity status. It was jammed on Sunday and Monday with curiosity-seekers straining to photograph the angel in a side chapel up near the front altar, at times disrupting Mass.

Meloni, for her part, tried to tamp down the outcry and make light of it.

“No, I definitely don’t look like an angel,” Meloni wrote on social media with a laughing/crying emoji alongside a photo of the work.

The basilica is located on one of Rome’s fanciest piazzas just down the block from the Spanish Steps. It was consecrated in 440 by Pope Sixtus III and subsequently enlarged and rebuilt. It is now the property of the Interior Ministry, which is responsible for its upkeep.

In 2000, one of the front chapels was renovated to include a bust of the last king of Italy, Umberto II. Included in the decoration was a cherub holding a map of Italy, seemingly kneeling down before the king.

That figure is now under scrutiny since the cherub’s face, after a recent restoration, appears modeled on Meloni’s. It is problematic because the cherub appears in a position of deference to the king. Italians rejected the monarchy after World War II because of its support for Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini; Meloni’s right-wing party has its roots in the neo-fascist party that succeeded Mussolini.

The cherub was restored after water infiltrations damaged the basilica starting in 2023. The parish priest, the Rev. Daniele Micheletti, acknowledged the resemblance to Meloni but dismissed the significance, noting that plenty of artists depicted real life people in their works.

Caravaggio is said to have modeled the Virgin Mary on a prostitute in one of his works; Michelangelo painted himself as St. Bartholomew in the Sistine Chapel’s “The Last Judgement.”

“The priest is not responsible for the decorations in the sense that the owner is someone else,” Micheletti told The Associated Press on Monday in his office, as his phone rang constantly. “So, what do they want from me? I did not do the painting.”

Over the weekend, the Culture Ministry sent a special delegate, Daniela Porro, and ministry officials to the basilica to survey the angel. Their aim, according to a ministry statement, was to “ascertain the nature of the work” and “decide what to do.”

The restorer, for his part, has denied wrongdoing and denied he used Meloni as a model. In interviews with Italian media, Bruno Valentinetti said Meloni was in the eye of the beholder and that he merely restored the original painting, which he himself had made in 2000.

The investigations are looking to determine what the original 2000 cherub looked like.

The vicar of Rome, Cardinal Baldassare Reina, was far less forgiving. He announced an investigation and criticized Micheletti’s blasé attitude in insisting that a political figure had no place in church art.

“In renewing the diocese of Rome’s commitment to the preservation of its artistic and spiritual heritage, it is firmly reiterated that images of sacred art and Christian tradition cannot be misused or exploited, as they are intended exclusively to support liturgical life and personal and communal prayer,” the diocese said a statement.

___

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.