The internationally growing Cursillo movement, or "short course in Christianity," founded in 1944 by Spanish Catholic lay practitioners, has become popular among American Catholics and Protestants alike. This lay-led weekend experience helps participants recommit to and live their faith. Emphasizing how American Christians have privileged the individual religious experience and downplayed denominational and theological differences in favor of a common identity as renewed people of faith, Kristy Nabhan-Warren focuses on cursillistas--those who have completed a Cursillo weekend--to show how their experiences are a touchstone for understanding these trends in post-1960s American Christianity. Drawing on extensive ethnographic fieldwork as well as historical research, Nabhan-Warren shows the importance of Latino Catholics in the spread of the Cursillo movement. Cursillistas' stories, she argues, guide us toward a new understanding of contemporary Christian identities, inside and outside U.S. borders, and of the importance of globalizing American religious boundaries.

Since its inception in Roman Catholic Spain in the 1940s, the Cursillo movement has been a steadily-growing phenomenon and has spread into many Protestant churches worldwide under various names. The weekend initiation is often a deeply-felt experience that boasts of many conversions and recommitments. Yet in this comprehensive analysis of Cursillo the author finds theological concerns, questions about the propriety of the methods, and complications such as disaffection from the local church, transfer of loyalty to the Cursillo community, and a significant drop-out rate, raising implications for similar, spiritual movements. Interviews with former Cursillo participants confirmed many of these conclusions but also raised a challenge to the church: many Cursillo participants do not perceive vital faith in their local church. The author suggests that the Cursillo attempts to imitate the work of the church in an extraordinary form and that this might initiate some of the unhelpful results. The church would be better served by seeking to revitalize its ordinary ministries of Word and sacrament, prayer, community, and Sabbath observance.

Whether valorized as the heartland or derided as flyover country, the Midwest became instantly notorious when COVID-19 infections skyrocketed among workers in meatpacking plants—and Americans feared for their meat supply. But the Midwest is not simply the place where animals are fed corn and then butchered. Native midwesterner Kristy Nabhan-Warren spent years interviewing Iowans who work in the meatpacking industry, both native-born residents and recent migrants from Latin America, Africa, and Asia. In Meatpacking America, she digs deep below the stereotype and reveals the grit and grace of a heartland that is a major global hub of migration and food production—and also, it turns out, of religion. Across the flatlands, Protestants, Catholics, and Muslims share space every day as worshippers, employees, and employers. On the bloody floors of meatpacking plants, in bustling places of worship, and in modest family homes, longtime and newly arrived Iowans spoke to Nabhan-Warren about their passion for religious faith and desire to work hard for their families. Their stories expose how faith-based aspirations for mutual understanding blend uneasily with rampant economic exploitation and racial biases. Still, these new and old midwesterners say that a mutual language of faith and morals brings them together more than any of them would have ever expected.