Religion United States

In the beginning, there was disappointment--the Great Disappointment, as the faithful of the Seventh-day Adventist Church would come to call it. It happened on a brilliant Maine day in the fall of 1844. A sickly teenage prophetess named Ellen G. White, the church's scriptural architect, waited with her brethren for Jesus Christ's predicted return. When he failed to materialize, White urged her disheartened followers to cherish the surety that such a day indeed would dawn.

Kneeling on thorns in the darkness of an old adobe chapel, 9-year-old Larry Torres gazed at an altar lined with brooding religious images and vowed a lifelong commitment to Los Hermanos Penitentes. The boy was taking his deceased grandfather's place in the secretive 400-year-old Catholic brotherhood rooted in charity and religious observances, including self-flagellation.

With almost no fanfare, the United States is experiencing its most dramatic religious transformation in this century. What has been a nation steeped in the Judeo-Christian tradition is fast becoming the most spiritually diverse country in the world. "More religions are being practiced in the United States than anyplace else," said Paul Griffiths, professor of philosophy of religions at the University of Chicago. At least 200 denominations coexist here, and the number continues to grow.

A ranking Israeli cabinet member on the front line of efforts to end the "who is a Jew" controversy wrapped up a five-day mission to the United States on Wednesday that left Jewish leaders here uncertain over progress. Finance Minister Yaakov Neeman emerged from a closed meeting of the Southern California Board of Rabbis to say that he was "encouraged" that many U.S. Jewish leaders want to press forward in efforts to win official recognition of non-Orthodox streams of Judaism in Israel.

Think fast: How many Americans went to church last weekend? Forty percent? Twenty percent? Somewhere in between? Whatever the guess, it might be right. For years, some polling groups and sociologists who specialize in tracking the religious behavior of Americans have been at odds trying to get a handle on how many of us go to worship services on a regular basis.

Deciding to don the hijab, the head scarf worn by traditional Muslim women, was a difficult decision, says Anjum Smith. A member of a USAir ground crew in Richmond, Va., and the only Muslim member of the staff, she held the job for more than five years before summoning the courage to wear the hijab at work. "I was afraid of ridicule," she said. Two and a half years later, her fears were realized when a new boss wrote a letter demanding that she take off the hijab.

Japanese tea ceremony teacher Yoshiko Koizumi, elegant in kimono and coiffed hair, spoke of spirits. Generation Xer Brian Kimura hung out in shorts and sunglasses, and talked about software. But in the American culture's bubbling brew of freedom and innovation, ancestral spirits and leading-edge software managed to merge in Little Tokyo, at the Zenshuji Soto Mission's Obon, a Buddhist celebration to honor the departed.

Japanese tea ceremony teacher Yoshiko Koizumi, elegant in kimono and coiffed hair, spoke of spirits. Generation X'er Brian Kimura hung out in shorts and sunglasses, and talked about software. But in the American culture's bubbling brew of freedom and innovation, ancestral spirits and leading-edge software managed to merge in Little Tokyo, at the Zenshuji Soto Mission's Obon, a Buddhist celebration to honor the departed.

Nowadays, when a chaplain opens each day's session of the House or Senate, the blessing is over in a matter of seconds and few people give it much reverent attention. In the time of the Founding Fathers, Congress was a far more worshipful place. Even Thomas Jefferson, who coined the resonant phrase "separation of church and state," rode over to Congress from the White House regularly to attend Sunday services, at which the Marine Band played psalms.

Barry Lynn likes Nativity scenes. "I like going by churches that have fancy Nativity scenes and live Nativity scenes," Lynn said. "It's a neat thing. I've been known to stop the car and say, 'Whoa, let's look at that Nativity scene.' But I don't want Nativity scenes on the courthouse lawn."