A recent Gallup poll on Americans' views of the Bible got fairly broad media attention, though it wasn't entirely clear what made the poll newsworthy. Was it that "Most Americans see the Bible as the Word of God"? Hard to see the news there—that's been true for as long as Gallup has been asking the question, and it remains true of 75 percent of the country.

But New York Times columnist Charles Blow still said he was "shocked and fascinated" by the religious literalism found by the poll. "What worries me is that some Americans seem to live in a world where facts can't exist," he wrote.

Others noted the poll's uptick in those who say, "The Bible is an ancient book of fables, legends, history, and moral precepts recorded by man." The 21 percent of Americans who agreed with the statement is up from 17 percent in 2011, but matches the number from 2008 (and all of that falls within the poll's 4% margin of error).

"The 21% viewing the Bible in secular terms nearly matches the combined 22% who identify with another religion or no religion," the Gallup release said. But further down, in discussing a new way the polling firm is starting to ask its Bible questions, it noted that only half of non-Christians agreed with the description of the Bible as "an ancient book of fables."

And then came something truly "shocking and fascinating": 11 percent of non-Christians say the Bible "is the actual word of God and is to be taken literally, word for word."

Before we get to this strange group of people who think the Bible is the literal word of God but don't identify as Christians, we need to take a closer look at the question.

Generally, CT hasn't reported much on answers to the poll item, which is used more or less verbatim among many social science surveys, not just Gallup's. It always struck us as strangely worded, attempting to divide those who view the Bible as "the actual word of God, to be taken literally word for word" and those who view the Bible as "the inspired word of God but not everything in it should be taken literally."

WASHINGTON (RNS) We like ourselves!

A new Pew Research survey finds U.S. adults feel most warmly about people who share their religion or those they know as family, friends or co-workers.

Americans give their highest scores to Jews, Catholics and Evangelicals on a zero-to-100 "thermometer" featured in the survey, "How Americans Feel about Religious Groups," released Wednesday (July 16). They're nestled within a few degrees of each other: Jews, 63; Catholics, 62; evangelicals, 61.

In the middle of the chart: Buddhists, 53; Hindus, 50; Mormons, 48. Trending to the chilly negative zone: atheists at 41 and Muslims at 40.

Pew took the thermal reading because "understanding the question of how religious groups view each other is valuable in a country where religion plays an important role in public life," said Greg Smith, Pew's associate director of religion research.

Jews, one of the nation's smallest religious groups, benefit from cultural, theological and historic ties with Christians — gaining what might be called a friends-and-family ratings boost.

Meanwhile, America's largest religious groups, Catholics and Protestants, benefit from self-regard. Pew found, perhaps unsurprisingly, that people rate their own groups higher than others. Still, the groups' overall average scores are pulled down by those who don't share these faiths. Catholics give themselves an 80 score while non-Catholics give them a 58. Evangelical Christians score 79 with people who called themselves "born-again" or evangelical, but only 52 with others.

"People are somewhat polarized about evangelicals," Smith said. The survey finds "roughly as many people give evangelicals a cold rating (27 percent) as give them a warm rating (30 percent)."

"I think it speaks to evangelicals' prominence in American life. Lots of people know something about them," he said.

And, according to the survey, some don't like what they know.

When Betty Kincaid's first husband asked her to marry him, she had one question:

Would he go to the Salem Camp Meeting with her every year?

When he said yes, she said yes.

"I would have married him anyway," said the 85-year-old retired teacher from Covington. "I just wanted to make sure he knew how much the camp meetings meant to me."

This year's 186th camp meeting, which runs July 11-18, will be Kincaid's 85th. Her mother brought Kincaid — diapers and all — to her first Salem Camp Meeting just a few months after she was born.

Five generations of her family have attended the Salem Camp Meeting in Covington since it began in 1828. The only time the meetings have ever been interrupted was two years during the Civil War (although since some people showed up anyway, they generally count this as the 186th).

"It's a very religious experience," Kincaid said. "It's a family reunion and a homecoming with all your friends at the same time. I wouldn't miss a camp meeting for anything."

Couples have met at Salem. They've raised families and each summer set aside one week to come to Salem. People have become ministers after visiting Salem.

They come back year after year for the preaching, praying, singing and fellowship. Services, which attract more than 1,300 a day, are open to all.

A teary-eyed Marvin Franklin, a Methodist bishop from Mississippi, was at the campground when the Japanese surrendered, said Sam Ramsey, chairman of the Salem board of trustees. When he was governor of Georgia, Jimmy Carter once led the morning prayer, Ramsey added. And, according to Ramsey, it was at one camp meeting that Carter privately asked Ramsey to pray for him because he had "just about decided" to run for president.

Over the next few days, Kincaid's clan, some coming from as far away as California, will stay in the family cabin — or tent. Like other tenters — as they're called — several generations of a family may stay in the semicircle of cabins, which bear the family name. Some of the "tents" date back to the 1800s.