An AP reporter explored religion in Utah. She was surprised by what she found
One of the reasons I loved starting my religion reporting career in Utah is that Utah is full of faith-related surprises.
Yes, it's fair to associate the state with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but you can't stop there. Its religious character is complex, and includes vibrant non-Christian faith communities, as well as plenty of religious 'nones.'
Deepa Bharath, a reporter with The Associated Press' Global Religion Team, recently put a spotlight on Utah's religious diversity with two stories about interfaith engagement.
One was about Latter-day Saints who access physical and spiritual health benefits by practicing yoga and the other was about the Hindu temple in Spanish Fork, Utah, that's breaking down barriers between different faith groups.
'The temple (Shri Shri Radha Krishna Temple) is surrounded by Latter-day Saints, and a lot of people going to practice yoga there are LDS,' said Bharath, who is based in Los Angeles.
After seeing her stories, I called Bharath to learn more about what she uncovered during her reporting trip and how to lean in to your faith-related curiosity.
This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Kelsey Dallas: How did you end up on a reporting trip in Utah?
Deepa Bharath: Jessie (Wardarski — a visual journalist on AP's Global Religion Team) and I realized we would both be in Salt Lake at the same time for an awards ceremony. We decided we had to do some stories, so I started looking into ideas.
I found so many, but Latter-day Saints doing yoga kind of popped out because of my own background. I think I was uniquely positioned to write this story because of my knowledge of yoga and its origins.
I started with the LDS people and they led me to the Hindu temple in Spanish Fork. It was really interesting. I didn't quite expect to find that amount of diversity.
KD: So your research and trip changed some of your preconceived notions about religion in Utah?
DB: Yes, I was surprised. I was surprised that there was this temple in an area that is overwhelmingly LDS and even more surprised at how accepting the community was.
The LDS yoga practitioners I met with have deep knowledge of the concepts behind yoga and link it to their religion. And Phil McLemore, who was one of my main interviews, has icons in his house of different Hindu deities. I didn't expect to see that.
And there were other types of interfaith engagement going on. Kids in the area visit the temple to volunteer and, in the process of serving, learn about this other culture.
KD: How does the Hindu temple in Utah compare to other temples in the U.S.?
DB: It's pretty unusual because Hindu temples are usually located where there is a large Hindu community or Indian community.
You see them in Los Angeles, New Jersey and several cities in Texas.
And this temple also stands out because it's a Hare Krishna Temple. Each temple under the ISKCON (International Society for Krishna Consciousness) is unique because it's run by a different person.
KD: What advice do you have for non-journalists who'd like to learn more about the religious communities in their neighborhood or in the places they visit?
DB: What I do is, if I see something interesting, a sign or building that's interesting, I just walk in — without trespassing.
I just follow my natural curiosity. I've always been drawn to anything that looks cultural or religious. I walk in and ask questions.
Ask questions about what catches your eye in your neighborhood. That's a great way to get to know your neighbors. It's a great way to expand your mind and heart.
The 5 biggest Supreme Court decisions to watch for this month
A Christian baker was sued for not serving a lesbian couple. The Supreme Court may hear her case
Why the Justice Department just sued a small Idaho town
Can Pope Leo remain a U.S. citizen? Will he?
The Supreme Court just rejected a religion case. At least 2 of the justices aren't happy about it
I've been reading through lawsuits somewhat regularly for the past decade, but Thursday was the first time I noticed the phrase 'Prayer for relief.'
After doing some digging, I learned that this is a common phrase in civil procedures. It refers to the part of a legal complaint where the people filing the lawsuit list the 'damages or remedies' they're seeking, per Cornell's Legal Information Institute.
'Prayer for relief is also called demand for relief,' Cornell's article explained.
In the Justice Department's religious freedom lawsuit against Troy, Idaho — a case I covered last week — the prayer for relief section includes requests for a ruling saying that Troy leaders violated the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act, as well as that the church seeking to meet in the town's downtown district should have its request granted.
The Trump administration is coming to the defense of schools being pressured to stop using Native American mascots, according to The New York Times.
I really loved The New York Times' coverage of the wedding of one of the internet's favorite couples.
My friend, Holly Meyer, dove into the world of Sacred Harp singing in her latest story for The Associated Press. Sacred Harp groups bring together people from a variety of religious backgrounds, including people of no faith and people from non-Christian traditions. 'There's no other experience to me that feels as elevating,' one singer told Holly, 'like you're just escaping the world for a little while.'
Last week, I stumbled on coverage of a fascinating situation at Harvard: A professor known for her research on honesty and ethical behavior has lost her job — for being dishonest.
Also last week, Chris Del Conte, Texas' athletic director, shared a relatable explanation for not wanting Texas football to play a Sunday night game: He said, 'I just said no to Sunday. I gotta go to church.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
15 hours ago
- Yahoo
The International Fellowship of Christians and Jews mobilized emergency aid for Syrian minorities
The International Fellowship of Christians and Jews has mobilized emergency aid for Druze and Christian communities in Syria's Sweida region (Video: The International Fellowship of Christians and Jews.)
Business Upturn
20 hours ago
- Business Upturn
Who was Rahaman Ali? Inside the life and family of Muhammad Ali's younger brother
Rahaman Ali, the younger brother of boxing legend Muhammad Ali, has passed away at the age of 82. A quiet but steady presence in Muhammad's life, Rahaman was more than just a sibling — he was a boxer, author, and lifelong supporter of his brother's journey both inside and outside the ring. A Humble Beginning Born Rudolph Arnett Clay on July 18, 1943, in Louisville, Kentucky, Rahaman was raised in a close-knit Christian household alongside his older brother, Cassius Clay Jr., who later became the global icon known as Muhammad Ali. Following in his brother's footsteps, Rahaman also converted to Islam and adopted the name by which the world would come to know him: Rahaman Ali. Their parents, Cassius Marcellus Clay Sr. and Odessa Grady Clay, instilled discipline and values in both brothers — and it was this grounding that helped shape their lifelong bond. Life in the Ring While his brother lit up the world stage, Rahaman quietly built his own boxing career. He fought professionally from 1964 to 1972, compiling a respectable record of 14 wins, 3 losses, and 1 draw, with 7 of those wins coming by knockout. He may never have reached the same level of fame, but Rahaman was known for his technique, heart, and unwavering sportsmanship. He also played a crucial role in his brother's success — serving as a sparring partner and traveling companion throughout Muhammad's career. Inside Rahaman Ali's Family Life Rahaman Ali was born into a working-class African-American family in Louisville, Kentucky, in 1943. He was the younger of two sons born to Cassius Marcellus Clay Sr., a sign painter and muralist, and Odessa Grady Clay, a domestic worker and devout Baptist. The Clays raised their sons with strong values, discipline, and deep pride in their heritage — a foundation that shaped both Rahaman and Muhammad's future. Devoted Brother and Author Rahaman was always by Muhammad's side — during his prime, in the face of controversy, and even through his battles with Parkinson's disease. He was more than just a sibling; he was part of the foundation that supported the champion behind the scenes. In later years, Rahaman documented his experiences through books. He co-authored two significant works: That's Muhammad Ali's Brother! My Life on the Undercard (2014), a personal memoir. My Brother, Muhammad Ali – The Definitive Biography (2019), a more in-depth account of their relationship and Ali's life, co-written with journalist Fiaz Rafiq. These books gave fans a unique glimpse into the private side of the global sports icon — told by the one person who knew him longest. Family Ties and Personal Life Rahaman Ali was a deeply family-oriented man. While he kept his personal life mostly private, those close to him describe him as gentle, kind, soft-spoken, and full of warmth. He remained in Louisville for most of his life, never straying far from the city that raised him and his brother. He was particularly close to Muhammad's children, especially Hana Ali, who often spoke of her 'Uncle Rock' with great affection. In a touching tribute after his passing, Hana remembered him as 'a sweet, peaceful soul with a playful spirit and that same light that made my father shine.' Rahaman's Final Days Rahaman Ali was admitted to Norton Audubon hospital on July 19, 2025, and later transferred to hospice care, where he passed away on August 1. The family has not yet released official funeral details, but a memorial is expected to be held at the Muhammad Ali Center. Tributes have poured in from fans, historians, and sports personalities alike, honoring Rahaman's quiet strength, humility, and the profound role he played in one of boxing's greatest stories. Ahmedabad Plane Crash
Boston Globe
a day ago
- Boston Globe
A bid to undo a colonial-era wrong touches a people's old wounds
Their efforts to repatriate ancestral remains, which have been in a British museum for more than a century, have been 'a trigger for the Nagas,' said Dolly Kikon, a professor of anthropology at the University of California, Santa Cruz, who is Naga herself. Naga society has changed immensely since those remains were taken. To contemplate their return means reckoning with those changes, and with how many of them are the result of external forces and violence. Advertisement Members of Naga communities in northeastern India have worked for five years with the Pitt Rivers Museum at the University of Oxford, whose collection of Naga cultural objects is the largest in the world, toward the goal of repatriating the hundreds of human remains in the collection. In June, a delegation of 20 Naga leaders, elders and scholars visited the museum and saw those objects for the first time. 'I stood there beside them quietly, feeling a deep sorrow in my heart,' Kikon said. The human remains in the collection, which number more than 200, include a warrior's cranium, a woman's skull decorated with buffalo horns and a piece of skin with hair attached. Naga tradition holds that human remains are sacred, carrying life and spirit. 'They are restless, the spirits will not be in peace unless they find a resting place,' said K. Ongshong, a Naga elder from Longleng village in the Indian state of Nagaland. Advertisement Most of the remains were donated to the museum by J.P. Mills and J.H. Hutton, British colonial administrators in northeastern India. While some were given to the men as gifts, most were collected against Naga people's will during military expeditions into villages, according to experts. For years, the skulls were included in a Pitt Rivers exhibit titled 'Treatment of Dead Enemies,' under the label 'headhunting trophies' alongside remains from other Indigenous groups, including the well-known shrunken heads of the Shuar people of South America. That changed in 2020, when 120 of the human remains in the collection, including the shrunken heads and Naga remains, were removed from display and put in storage. In their place stand blue information boards explaining the contentious collection and the museum's decolonization efforts. 'These displays didn't match with our values any more,' Laura Van Broekhoven, the museum's director, said in an interview. Headhunting was practiced among Naga warriors, who collected the heads of enemies they killed in raids or war. (Despite the labeling by the museum, experts said it was unlikely that all the Naga skulls were enemy trophy heads; some may have been taken from burial sites.) Because of the gruesome nature of the practice, and the way it helped to feed a persistent stereotype of the Nagas as violent and warlike, some Nagas are hesitant to bring the remains home. The repatriation discussions are also touching on deeper wounds for many of the Naga people, who number about 2.5 million. Advertisement That is clear from the difficulties raised, in this case, by one of the first questions in any repatriation process: Where should these objects go? Today, most Nagas live in the Indian state of Nagaland. But Naga communities can also be found in the states of Assam, Manipur and Arunachal Pradesh -- and in Myanmar. Before the British colonists drew their borders, the Nagas lived in a contiguous region loosely known as the Naga hills, now divided among those modern states. In 1928, Nagas began making formal demands for independence, not wanting to be a part of the British Raj or India. 'The Nagas shared no cultural similarities with India,' said Akum Longchari, a peace and conflict activist based in Nagaland. But when the British left the subcontinent in 1947, Nagas were brought under the control of the Indian state. Decades of political struggle and armed resistance followed, broadly known as the Naga National Movement. India saw it as a threat and suppressed the insurgency. The fighting killed thousands over the years. India implemented laws that gave sweeping powers to its security forces and protected them from prosecution, which experts say led to human rights violations. Although a ceasefire was reached in 1997, the state of Nagaland remains one of India's most militarized regions. For some Nagas, the truce feels precarious, and much suspicion and mistrust remain. Longchari said Naga society had been in a constant state of struggle since British colonization in the 1800s. 'Nagas have had no time for reflection,' he said, adding, 'One colonizer left and another took their place right after.' Another factor complicating the repatriation process is the enduring legacy of American Christian missionaries, who first arrived in the Naga hills in the 19th century. Advertisement If the remains are laid to rest, some Nagas wonder, what funeral rituals should they be accorded -- the rites of Christianity, since that is the religion most Nagas now follow, or traditional, animistic ones? Knowledge of those older rites may now be limited, since the missionaries changed the region's culture along with its religion, said Nepuni Piku, a human-rights activist. 'They did not just come with their Bible, but with their cultural baggage,' Piku said. Naga culture was painted as backward and outdated, Christianity as modern, which led to the abandonment of many Naga cultural practices and rituals, he said. Naga activists and scholars, along with the Forum for Naga Reconciliation in Nagaland, a civil society organization, have been trying to build consensus on these questions and more. Once there is agreement on a plan for repatriating the remains and artifacts, a claim will be made to the university. If the university accepts the claim, then the governments of both countries will get involved. Last fall, a two-day conference on the proposed repatriation brought together community elders, scholars and students in a nondenominational Christian church in Dimapur, the largest city in Nagaland. A college student at the conference asked what relevance the traditions of the past had for the urban world he inhabits. Loina Shohe, a sociologist, replied that Naga culture, like any other, is not static but evolves with time. 'Our ancestors were self-sustained, not primitive or savage,' she said. The Nagas' history has caused them immense intergenerational trauma, Dr. P. Ngully, a psychiatrist in Nagaland, said in an interview last year. He was part of the delegation that visited Oxford, one month before he died in July. Such trauma, which he called an 'invisible epidemic,' can exacerbate alcohol and substance abuse, he said, problems that Naga society is trying to address among its youth. Advertisement Some younger Nagas are looking for ways to reconcile with that traumatic history. Throngkiuba Yimchungru, 35, conducts art workshops that he calls DeConstructing Morung. Long ago, morungs were youth dormitories where Nagas came together to socialize -- one of the traditions lost to Christianity and time. Yimchungru said he wanted to adapt the concept to the present. 'Morungs can be anywhere -- in a school, office, within a big city,' he said. 'They needn't be within an architectural structure.' Nagas' discussions with the Pitt Rivers Museum have also been an attempt to reconcile with the past. But the return of the remains in the museum's collection could conceivably take decades. The fastest repatriation the museum has ever carried out took a year and a half, while the longest -- the repatriation of Tasmanian human remains -- took 45. The Naga delegation to the museum opened its June visit with an Indigenous chant that alludes to the original parting of the Naga ancestors from their creator. The chant concludes with the hope that the ancestor will be reunited with the creator and help to heal the wounds of the past. 'I don't know if the process of repatriation will do the healing for us,' Kikon said. 'But I do know there's a lot of trauma and we need the healing.' This article originally appeared in
