In one sermon, Pastor Z was praising a cartoon from a recent issue of The New Yorker. I think he called it "profound". He said the cartoon featured a couple and their dog, gazing up at the starry sky, the man's arm around the woman as he says, "I'm not religious, I'm just scared to death."
Reluctantly leaving aside the inaccuracies -- the cartoon, which appeared on page 47 of the 1/29/07 issue, shows no stars in the sky, the couple have their arms around each other, the woman is speaking, and she doesn't say she is scared "to death" (the actual caption reads "I'm not religious -- I'm just scared.") -- it is still difficult for me to see a theologically helpful message in this cartoon. In fact, it strikes me as a somewhat self-satisified anti-religion message. (This is borne out also by the expressions on the couple's faces: the woman looks cheerful; the man has a complacent smile as he hears her remark.) While anti-religious sentiment is a perfectly legitimate point of view (and much more typical of The New Yorker than this week's astonishingly thoughtful work of fiction, see page 67 of the 2/5/07 issue), it is not one I necessarily expect a pastor to embrace.
To me, the point of the cartoon, on some level, is that people turn to religion (or a half-baked pastiche of "spirituality") not because they believe their particular religion is "true" but instead for comfort or solace.
Contemporary church-going New Yorkers tend to be drawn strongly to Christian themes of social justice and love (especially loving one's neighbor in the sense of embracing diversity and tolerating/celebrating alternative world views and lifestyles), but repelled by other aspects (especially themes of judgment, or restrictions on sexual freedom or divorce) and perhaps even openly skeptical of some of the miraculous goings-on reported in the gospel.
One risk for any Christian is that he or she will let go of the aspects of Christianity that strike him/her as "outdated" or "mythical"; the problem with doing this, of course, is that you are left not with Christianity, but with a religion of your own design -- a religion that doubtless jives well with your predilections, but one that is unlikely to be true. Real Christianity is very hard, and people of all backgrounds and all political beliefs who take it seriously will inevitably find themselves up against some doctrines that are very difficult for them personally. Imaginary Christianity, with all the unpalatable bits taken out, is just a bit of milk sop, a bromide for those who are scared.
Dr. Tewell made a good point several years ago one Easter Sunday: it's all very well and fine to have a cute little custom where you get up early for Easter, put on some fine Easter clothes, maybe an Easter bonnet, go to church, and then enjoy a nice Easter brunch -- but if Christianity isn't true, you are simply wasting your time. He challenged us to consider whether we really believe, and if so, how we should act. That challenge is a good one, an important one to wrestle with on an ongoing basis, even though -- or perhaps precisely because -- we all fail to live up to it at times (and he of course in an unfortunately spectacular way).
One closing thought: Dr. T's downfall was spectacular in a deep etymological sense, because his failing (unlike so many other sins great and small) became known to the public, a spectacle for others to observe and comment on.
4 comments:
I liked your post. But can't it be said that religion is not for this life but to insure you make it in to the "next life".
Like you said, people become religious out of comfort. IMO I think some people cling to religion out of fear of where their soul will end up.
"a half-baked pastiche of "spirituality"
What does that mean?
Good question. I used some pretty strong invective there, so I'll try to explain/justify it.
I was trying to distinguish between a vague and ill-defined sense of "spirituality" and a mature, intellectually honest attempt to grapple with tricky theological issues.
So by "half-baked" I meant beliefs that are not fully thought through.
And by "pastiche" I meant to describe beliefs that are basically cobbled together from a bunch of semi-random sources (perhaps drawing from the simplified religious instruction one may have received as a child, or from magazine articles or television interviews with religious leaders of various faiths, or from movies, or from hearing religious chants in foreign languages).
I can give you an extreme example of someone who has this sort of mindless "spirituality". On one of my bike trips this summer, one woman announced that she and two others in the group had seen a vision of the Virgin Mary late the night before in the "ruined abbey" where (according to her) "the nuns were murdered." She was referring to a very small, roofless stone chapel (way too tiny to be an "abbey") and her feeling that some nuns had lived there and had been murdered there (the locals were unaware of any such historical event). She is not a Christian, but considers herself to be very "spiritual" and thus open to this and other experiences.
I happen to disagree with her view that the Virgin Mary appeared to her (especially after talking to one of her two companions), but let's take her experience at face value, because I think she really believes she saw the Virgin Mary.
Now, you might think that seeing an apparition of the Virgin Mary would be life-transforming. Not for her - it was just a cool, dramatic story for her to tell, and did not affect her beliefs in any way. She made no effort to understand what this might mean, theologically. (For instance, if the Virgin Mary really appeared to her, maybe Christianity is true?) She made no effort to think about WHY the Virgin Mary would bother to manifest herself and then disappear without speaking, or WHY this brief vision would have anything to do with "murdered nuns". She was content to take this as evidence that she is really "spiritual" and somehow connected mystically with unknown force(s) that make no demand on her but are out there, somewhere, somehow coexisting with all religions and all beliefs.
I agree, concern for the fate of one's soul after death is a huge part of religion. But clinging to a religion won't help if that religion isn't true (or at least close enough to count, in light of human frailty).
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