Wednesday, December 14, 2011

The Weakness of Religion

Dietrich Bonhoeffer once wrote that "Jesus calls men, not to a new religion, but to life." Bonhoeffer takes his cue from Jesus who said, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly," as recorded in John 10:10 in the Bible. Religion is no stranger to battle, and this is a major blight on the image of faithful people everywhere. Many have rightfully argued against the need for a 'faith,' based on the adherents who claim the faith, but is this the logical conclusion to every bad encounter or negative perception of faith?

Many would say it is. After all, what else is needed? I would offer that the discussion begins at a deficit when the word, or idea, addressed is 'religion;' but if we speak instead of 'faith,' our dialogue not only continues but enables all parties to share and disagree and leave the conversation validated. I would hope that all reading this may discover, by the article's end, that none of these processes are mutually exclusive... unless we let them become so. I hope you will not fault me for, as a Christian, at times transitioning from talking about faith in general and the Christian faith in particular, as that is my major chosen frame of reference.

Query Quagmire
The search for the Divine is not new, nor is the multiplicity of places one can go to for another's opinions on the search. So reading the thoughts of those who claim the need for "a new way of being religious" strikes me as disingenuous or historically oblivious. Or who knows? It could just be a hook for another book. Eric Weiner, in an Op-Ed article for the New York Times called "Americans: Undecided About God?" (referenced throughout), brings a blithe and pop-referenced, but ultimately photo-copied, perspective on the human - not just American - quest for the Divine. Whether we search for the Divine, a divinity of our own selves, or the nature of the Divine, we all find ourselves somewhere along the path from this life to the next and wonder about it all.

In Weiner's book*, pictured here, the author is prompted on his quest by his own mortality. The Amazon product description states: "When a health scare puts him in the hospital, Eric Weiner - an agnostic by default - finds himself tangling with an unexpected question, posed to him by a well-meaning nurse. "Have you found your God yet?" The thought of it nags him, and prods him - and ultimately launches him on a far-flung journey to do just that." The resulting book, which I have not read, seems to be like numerous others I have read by the 'faithfully-unencumbered' - a personal journey put to pen that, regardless of its purpose, will likely serve to instruct others in the never-ending pursuit of questions.

Questions are good, being able to ask them yourself is better (a.k.a. humility doesn't claim to know all things), and groups of people searching through questions communally is best, but is it possible to get bogged down in the questions themselves? Many may, and certainly will, disagree, but I don't believe questions are to be the end in themselves. Does the one who asks the most questions win, in the soul-searching, theoretical sense? No, but neither does the one who asks no questions, or claims to already have all the answers. In the search for the Divine, it is not the process or the destination that really matters. Ultimately, what really matters, is the focus of the pursuit.

I have no desire to say that religion and faith, if they are true, will possess all the answers to every question you could possibly have. You don't need to ask God if you should eat eggs and bacon or whole bran cereal for breakfast - you've got choices and can stand on your own two feet. If you're about to run into something or someone and believe it prudent to first pray about the direction of your dodge, maybe you deserve 1) to hit the obstruction and 2) the corresponding doubt of the Divine that follows because you weren't spared the collision. I'd say that you have a brain to check Google Maps if you're looking for an unfamiliar location, but if you'd prefer to ask God for Divine guidance, maybe getting lost is God's way of instructing you in the delicate balance between reliance and common sense.

Some questions necessitate the re-asking and re-telling, and that creates growth and fellowship and a sense of belonging. But others must be answered definitively and the answers relied upon and referenced as needed. Ask, remind, repeat. Without this decision, what is to stop people from changing their minds for any and every different idea or, worse, believing any and all ideas whether they are in conflict or not? Is this possible? Is it even a new idea?

Yes to God, No To Organized Religion: Breaking New Ground?
Weiner coins the adjective the "Nones" for those of no particular belief system. "Nones are the undecided of the religious world. We drift spiritually and dabble in everything from Sufism to Kabbalah to, yes, Catholicism and Judaism." He says, with shoulder-hunched ambivalence ("Apparently..."), that the number of those rejecting organized religion is growing in the United States. Is it? Or are we seeing the theological chickens coming home to roost? I would offer that perhaps the numbers are the same they've always been, but now the parents' lax religious upbringing is undeniable in their children and the cultural climate for discussions about God has warmed. Talking about God, the Divine, the afterlife, etc. has become more popular, even as the stigma attached to those who speak without much knowledge about such things has been removed. It's okay to oscillate.

I don't think our being "terrible when it comes to talking about God" is anything new. Rather, it's become more acceptable for the currently living generations to know very little about what they espouse and elevate the garden-variety opinion to the platform of truth. The writer of Ecclesiastes in the Bible says repeatedly that there is nothing new under the sun. In much the same way, we cannot come upon a new meadow of personal thought - at least new to us - and just ignore the centuries-old ruins of previous discussions.

Weiner's article was written Dec. 10, 2011 and his book was published Dec. 5, 2011. What he may or may not know is that the 2001-2005 survey called the National Study of Youth and Religion recorded the sentiments of his 'Nones.' In book form the survey's frontrunner, Christian Smith, offers all interested a sneak peak into the "religious and spiritual lives of American teenagers." His 2005 book, "Soul Searching," and the survey it addresses, is given (Christian) ministerial legs by Kenda Creasy Dean's 2010 book "Almost Christian." Both of these books are excellent - I highly recommend to any interested in spiritual matters, especially those of youth - and deal with the ongoing nature of people passing down spiritual ambivalence to their children. However, I would assert that not even Smith and Dean have uncovered something new so much as something previously ignored.

In the amazing movie, "To Save A Life," the pain of modern teens intersects the faith discussion. When the interested-but-guarded Jake asks youth minister Chris why there are so many fakers in the youth group, Chris responds with words that describe every church - and, for that matter, every faith - that has ever existed: "I know there are fakers in there..." Just so, there have always been people who do not ascribe to any set standard of religious belief or faith practice, even though they coast along in the confines of a particular belief system. Youth have not started to drift from the secure moorings of their parents' faiths but have sadly mirrored back to their parents their own autopilot pursuits of religion. Asking 100 - even 10? - members of any faith system about even a single tenet of their faith will certainly yield at least two differing viewpoints. Varying degrees of knowledge or comprehension of the faith they profess, as well as pervasive doubts, are surely to blame for such differences. But can the differences be blamed on ignorance and doubt alone?

Shopping Cart Spirituality
What Weiner speaks of, and numerous pursuers of the Divine have articulated throughout the centuries, is the inevitable result of prizing the search without regard to the conclusions. The search for enlightenment or spiritual discovery is elevated without thought of consequences or repercussions, surely because we are taught from infancy to avoid what is uncomfortable or loathsome to us. By the time the consequences become clear, our minds are already entangled in the circular reasoning of our religious preference. If you are a Christian you have no doubt, at some point or another, heard something like this aimed at you or your faith. Christians are often caricatured as blind followers, ignorant, or back-woods illiterates in conversation and media outlets (I would hope this article does at least some work in dispelling these misconceptions!).

Rather, what I see as blind-leading-the-blind ignorance at work is what you might call shopping cart spirituality. When at the store, we choose items we need - for some reason or another - and place them in the basket. Sometimes we then remove one item to replace it with another we prefer. What we convey by even these shopping habits is who we are. What we buy, the food we eat, is a reflection of who we are - the beliefs we hold to. These beliefs are extensions of us, and so also something of a reflection of the real 'us.'

In much the same way, what Weiner proposes is much the same as what Smith and Dean refer to as 'moralistic therapeutic deism.' Now, the ideas were handled in depth in the two books referenced above and, again, I suggest you read them both. But if you'll allow me a run-on sentence, I'll try to summarize what this term means: Moralistic therapeutic deism is the religious belief that living a life of mostly good works and ways not only makes you feel better about yourself but will endear you to the heart of the god you believe in, whatever that might be. Or, the god you believe in wants you to do good, which is good for you too, and will accept you if you do good. Or, if I feel like I'm a good person then surely God will accept me.

Now, if you've had much experience in the Christian Church, this probably screams, "WORKS!!!" to you, and you want to run and hide in a corner, sucking your thumb and repeating a calming mantra. I wouldn't call this works-initiated religion, though, so much as selfishness with a thin, godly-flavored coating. Let's look at the pursuit of a relationship as an example: we could hunt for someone to fit every criteria in our minds for a mate, but even the most exhaustive search would fail to plot the future definitively. We could pick the perfect candidate and things could move along swimmingly, but what about when arguments or differences appear? Do we adopt the life philosophy of Dory, from Finding Nemo: "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..."? Not likely! Not after all the hard work we put into finding this perfect person! We move on, because accepting that some parts of our lives are out of our control isn't preferred unless we've already exhausted other options. Depression and anxiety medications are a testimony to how frustrated we become when we feel like we're not in control.

"Let Us Make Them In Our Own Image"
So we took the control back. We established our non-negotiables for what God should be like, and then set about the business of finding the god that fit the list. And let's be honest - in many ways the North American Church has become a business, providing a product to a consumerist society that is ever in need of a new fix. And if the local church doesn't provide the right fix, then the consumer goes elsewhere and the church shuts down. This isn't the failure of Jesus Christ - we must understand this! - but the failure of the Church. The Church is the people, not the building. The building is the place for the Church to gather and fellowship together, but even that idea has been trounced on by an individualistic culture. Consider these examples - from Christian thought alone - that surround us with the illusion of singularity, if only as a means of directing us to a better way (all italics mine):
"If only my one heart was all You'd gain from all it cost. Well I know you would have still been there with the reason to willingly offer your life. I'm not just a man that's lost in this world - lost in a sea of faces."                           Kutless, Sea of Faces
"Life without my God is no life at all..."                                                                                    Aaron Keyes, Dwell
"I love my Master, I will not go free."                                                                                       Christy Nockels, Life Light Up
"In my own little world, Population: Me."                                                                                 Matthew West, The Story of Your Life
and now for the real hum-dinger, the nowhere-in-scripture-but-defended-to-the-death...
"... and I accept Him as my personal Lord and Savior."
But this isn't a Christian issue alone. Weiner's nurse asks him if he'd found his God yet. Not only does this convey the belief that truth is subjective, but the religious pluralism point of view that reinforces that subjective worldview. Now, before you flood the comments below, I understand the desire of these songs and statements and do not say that the artists mentioned above are advocating a possessive theology of God, much less religious pluralism. I'm not trying to make fun of these beloved rituals and practices, or suggesting that we dissect lyrics of Christian songs with a theological barrel and trigger itching to be pulled. I understand that the point of saying and singing these things is to acknowledge the deeply personal love God feels for each of us. That we are not insignificant or worthless but hold infinite worth to the God who created us. That we must personally place our allegiance somewhere and realize the story is not about us. My point is not to dismantle anyone's faith, but to reorient our spiritual eyes to the biblical perspectives of community.

We say we love Jesus, but we consider ourselves above rebuke or reproach when we do His name a disservice - and church discipline, a deeply scriptural tenet, is all but gone. We say we are followers of Jesus but we reject the Church Jesus died for. We say we don't need the community. We say we don't need, or can't stand, the fellowship of all those hypocrites, and we consider ourselves outside the label. It's a dangerous game to say that the worst and the ugliest in today's churches is a reflection of the whole Church, or even what allegiance to that Church produces, and then assert that our pursuit of God is a reflection of God's unadulterated goodness. It's dangerous to imbue all Church leadership with goat/wolf hair and horns in remembrance of those who have devoured the flock in the past, while at the same time supposing that you, however, are one who's example is worthy of being followed. Even in the most simplistic of definitions, that's a mantle of leadership, and it brings followers.

But many don't see it like that. For their limited perspectives, they set off on a quest of faith that was never meant to be made alone and fall into the religion trap even as they rail against it. You can find them on church website chat feeds during a streaming church service, practicing their pseudo-fellowship without the danger of personal connection. They troll the cyber-avenues for snack-sized friendships devoid of commitment, not as a temporary necessity but as a rule. There they can protect themselves from the hurts of real relationship. There they can control their religious world while uttering divisive and unfair invectives about the ones who risk the pain, risk the heartache, and risk the weaknesses of the faith they profess. Confronting them with the importance of face-to-face communication is hardly worth it, since they all but where the t-shirt that claims, "my faith is personal." But our beliefs are a reflection of us, even if we try to keep it locked away in the dark.

The Israelites were a community of people chosen by God to be God's own. The Church is a community of people chosen by God - consisting of Jews and non-Jews - to be God's own through Christ. And neither of these communities were purposed for their own benefit, but so that the entire world would come to know the living God through them and acknowledge God's glory and God's name and God's greatness. This isn't accomplished through one, but through many. This was, is, and will be God's design for humanity. But God saves us through the One - Himself in the flesh, Jesus - and last time I checked none of us fit the bill. God saves through One and testifies to the world through the many.

And so, Christianity is not a religion for lone rangers, but a faith for communities. Even still, many people who flock to churches all over the world have no concept of the part they play in God's design. They don't know their place in God's economy of grace. And they don't know that some questions have actual answers, much less where to go to find them. And their support of oscillating points of views keep them from knowing the true God.

The Itch of Eternity
Weiner wrote in his article that "a health scare and the onset of middle age created a crisis of faith," which I hardly find strange. God has set eternity in our hearts, according to Ecclesiastes 3:11, but more important is why God has set eternity in our hearts - so we will acknowledge God's existence even without being able to see the breadth and depth of all that God is. Thousands of years before Smith or Dean or Weiner, the smartest man to have ever lived comes to the end of all pursuits - even intellectual - and finds meaninglessness in everything but fearfully - with reverence and awe - keeping God's commandments (Eccl. 12:13). He acknowledges that our 60 to 100 years (sometimes less, sometimes more) are not enough to fully comprehend the vast reaches of God. We can't see or hear enough (Eccl. 1:8) to satisfy our deepest longings because eternity is forever without end toward the past and toward the future, and the only one to claim that knowledge is God (Isaiah 43:13, Micah 5:2, 2 Timothy 1:9) - all else is arrogance. What makes us think that we can know, in our short stay on earth (much less as the all-knowing teenagers we once were), the farthest reaches of the universe? When we yearly discover how little we know even of this universe, what arrogance propels us to box God into easily observable data?

I would think that even we rebel against another's attempts to box us in, to more narrowly define us than we think is necessary. I know I do. Still, we make the claims of greater knowledge than we possess by saying God doesn't exist; or God wouldn't do this or that; or that a God that lets certain things happen in this world isn't worth serving in the first place. These are easier things to say than more observable truths: like how our opinions are subjective; how God certainly owes us no explanations if we don't even expect to personally hear any from our own President; and how we draw our lines of acceptability somewhere far afield from where we are. We are not keen on thinking that perhaps this standard would also leave us on the outside.

Our culture's premium toward issues of individuality and self-esteem and tolerance/acceptance have done more to create God in our own image than they have to produce strong, competent individuals for the betterment of society. Contrary to what Weiner claims, we are actually excellent at talking about God and religion. Where we fail is in chasing after every new idea and ignoring the prodding of God's eternity. If we continue to do so, the constant call of God's truth - not to mention the abundance of new ideas - will quickly become insufferable.

The Weakness of Religion
Weiner closes his article with a dense, but hopeful, description of his desires for religion:
We need a Steve Jobs of religion. Someone (or ones) who can invent not a new religion but, rather, a new way of being religious. Like Mr. Jobs’s creations, this new way would be straightforward and unencumbered and absolutely intuitive. Most important, it would be highly interactive. I imagine a religious space that celebrates doubt, encourages experimentation and allows one to utter the word God without embarrassment. A religious operating system for the Nones among us. And for all of us. 
I know people may read that and resonate deeply with it. I'm sorry. I don't mean to insult you, and I don't mean to deny your right to agree with him. What I do mean to offer is that celebrating doubt can quickly become a never-ending cycle of regression. Encouraging experimentation without guidelines will lead us quickly to undeniable, unwanted, empirical evidence that answers, once and for all, the question of whether we are born basically good or not. And the phrase 'absolutely intuitive' seems an intellectual mockery and an impossibility, to know truth apart from reasoning. I don't question that a red ball is red, and I don't have to think about it at all anymore, not because I was hard-wired to know it intuitively but because I am not colorblind and I learned my colors at a young age. Now, identifying the primary colors is as natural as breathing - discerning salmon pink from autumn sunrise or forest green from sea-foam green is another matter entirely. My point is, maybe what is simple still requires work on our part; and what is easy still requires doing.

Why do people find Christianity complicated? Maybe because we have made it so, and maybe because our natural laziness has avoided the work that anything worth having entails. More likely it's a combination of both (and some other things thrown in for good measure).  But I believe that Christianity can "be straightforward (get to know God, with others, through the Bible) and unencumbered (read and discuss things, in grace, with others) and absolutely intuitive (you have to read or listen to it yourself!)." As I said above, absolutely intuitive doesn't work, because no 'thing' that's new to you is immediately possible without a time, no matter how short, of familiarizing. That last need might just single one out as lazy, but, at any rate...

It can be straightforward and unencumbered, but we currently don't have the technology to download the Bible into our minds like something from The Matrix or through skin-contact-transference. To my knowledge, no one has yet figured out how to fill a Tweet with the God-inspired fullness of God's word with a conveniently searchable hash tag. And Facebook status updates can only get a person so far. That means we have to read it for ourselves and discuss it with others. We have to learn from those who know more than us, teach others if we know more than them, and never take for granted that we are receiving from another what is actually true just because someone says it is. The weakness of religion exists in our streamlined lives and easy-makes-better lifestyles. So when some religion fails to meet our expectations, we've actually conditioned ourselves to believe that the problem is with the religion and not with ourselves.

Many have turned faith into religion, into something that we do instead of something that we are. We are a community of people living life together, and when we join a faith we are a new community doing life together. Faith has not ever been, is not, and never will be an individualistic pursuit, no matter its personal dimensions. We are seen properly as individuals only in the context of our community. Without each other, we cannot hope to understand the greatness of a God that is singularly majestic, known to us as three distinct-yet-combined Persons, and wrap our minds around the mystery and wonder of it all. This community - as imperfect and helpless as we always are - is the vehicle through which God has chosen to make Himself known. The comparison surely makes God's greatness all the more startling and worthy of awe and honor!

In the end, it's not about anyone "winning" the race to fully explain the Divine. It's not about being able to say you're right and others are wrong, either. It's not even about being open to the search as you look for the religion that best suits you. In the end, it's all about the truth, despite our earnest search or heartfelt intentions.

And that has been - and always will be - an uncomfortable thing to say, hear, and believe.

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* For the record, I do not recommend Weiner's book to anyone, having not read it myself and for other reasons addressed in this article, and certainly not to anyone who is not secure in their belief. I have read books by non-Christians before and do not intend to stop, but hope that anyone who chooses to do so would read as I do: under a blanket of prayer, in the direction and guidance of the Holy Spirit, and with a firm grasp of the nature and work of Jesus Christ in human history. As a Christian, I believe it's my duty to behave as Christ in the world, see Christ in others, and point all to Christ through my words and deeds. For reasons further addressed in this article, it would be a tacit support, or celebration, of doubt to exclude this disclaimer. I am unashamed of this gospel of Jesus, for it is the very power of God to salvation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 1:16).