John Shook's Blog
May 24, 2012
Church-Goers Now a Minority in America
One measure of the decline of church strength and authority is church membership and attendance. And by that measure, US secularity is rising to surprising heights.
Churches try to keep track of their members, and if their numbers get a little inflated, you could understand why. People who hardly ever attend services, or who get listed just because the whole family has been listed for many years, can get included in church membership rolls. Still, there's no need to suppose that serious membership inflation is that rampant. In recent decades, many denominations have seen slow declines in attendance and membership, declines impossible to hide. Fairly honest reporting of that data is necessary to prevent denominational leaders from fooling themselves. Churches don't regard people showing up just a few times a year as real church-goers, and they search for ways to convert them into regular members. Just keeping people in the pews is a full-time job in itself for plenty of congregations.
The March 2012 Gallup poll on religious behavior in the United States exposes how lots of people are avoiding church. As Gallup reports, "32 percent of Americans are nonreligious, based on their statement that religion is not an important part of their daily life and that they seldom or never attend religious services."
About a third of Americans now report that they seldom or never go to a religious house of worship. That's a huge number of people avoiding church-going. But keep in mind, this poll does say that 68 percent of Americans claim that they do occasionally attend services. How valid is that figure? Actually, even fewer people are real church-goers.
America's congregations could only wish that 68 percent of Americans were showing up once in a while. It's terribly nice that polls can still find upwards of 85 percent claiming to be Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, and so on, but those expressions of religious identity are evidently detached from behavior. You couldn't blame churches for feeling annoyed at the way that religious people constantly exaggerate how often they attend services. Poll after poll "discover" that plenty of people go to church frequently, but it is obvious how people lie about going to church. According to studies of people's actual behavior, less than 25 percent of Americans go to church two-three times or more each month. These low numbers have been known for a while, but little noticed. University of Michigan researcher Philip Brenner has studied church attendance for many years (see his 2011 paper and discussion by Tom Rees at Epiphenom , and plenty of further data is reported by Rebecca Barnes and Lindy Lowry at churchleaders.com.
The churches' own membership lists reflect how at least three-quarters of Americans aren't showing up to church much at all. The Association of Statisticians of American Religious Bodies has periodically collected data from America's churches about their membership, and the latest report is available:
A bare majority of Americans are not connected with any religious congregation, and an even larger majority are hardly ever showing up in any house of worship. There's plenty of other sorts of religious activities and spiritual experiences to pursue, of course. Abandoning church is not the same thing as leaving the religious life. All the same, church-goers have become a minority in America.
Churches try to keep track of their members, and if their numbers get a little inflated, you could understand why. People who hardly ever attend services, or who get listed just because the whole family has been listed for many years, can get included in church membership rolls. Still, there's no need to suppose that serious membership inflation is that rampant. In recent decades, many denominations have seen slow declines in attendance and membership, declines impossible to hide. Fairly honest reporting of that data is necessary to prevent denominational leaders from fooling themselves. Churches don't regard people showing up just a few times a year as real church-goers, and they search for ways to convert them into regular members. Just keeping people in the pews is a full-time job in itself for plenty of congregations.
The March 2012 Gallup poll on religious behavior in the United States exposes how lots of people are avoiding church. As Gallup reports, "32 percent of Americans are nonreligious, based on their statement that religion is not an important part of their daily life and that they seldom or never attend religious services."
About a third of Americans now report that they seldom or never go to a religious house of worship. That's a huge number of people avoiding church-going. But keep in mind, this poll does say that 68 percent of Americans claim that they do occasionally attend services. How valid is that figure? Actually, even fewer people are real church-goers.
America's congregations could only wish that 68 percent of Americans were showing up once in a while. It's terribly nice that polls can still find upwards of 85 percent claiming to be Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, and so on, but those expressions of religious identity are evidently detached from behavior. You couldn't blame churches for feeling annoyed at the way that religious people constantly exaggerate how often they attend services. Poll after poll "discover" that plenty of people go to church frequently, but it is obvious how people lie about going to church. According to studies of people's actual behavior, less than 25 percent of Americans go to church two-three times or more each month. These low numbers have been known for a while, but little noticed. University of Michigan researcher Philip Brenner has studied church attendance for many years (see his 2011 paper and discussion by Tom Rees at Epiphenom , and plenty of further data is reported by Rebecca Barnes and Lindy Lowry at churchleaders.com.
The churches' own membership lists reflect how at least three-quarters of Americans aren't showing up to church much at all. The Association of Statisticians of American Religious Bodies has periodically collected data from America's churches about their membership, and the latest report is available:
A bare majority of Americans are not connected with any religious congregation, and an even larger majority are hardly ever showing up in any house of worship. There's plenty of other sorts of religious activities and spiritual experiences to pursue, of course. Abandoning church is not the same thing as leaving the religious life. All the same, church-goers have become a minority in America.
Church-Goers Now a Minority in America
One measure of the decline of church strength and authority is church membership and attendance. And by that measure, US secularity is rising to surprising heights.
Church-Goers Now A Minority In America
One measure of the decline of church strength and authority is church membership and attendance. And by that measure, US secularity is rising to surprising heights.
September 26, 2011
The Humanist Case Against Capital Punishment
Humanism stands for a social ethics of equality, individual human rights, justice for everyone and government that defend their citizens. Humanism cannot support the death penalty.
Death penalty supporters appeal to these principles, too. But they narrowly interpret them to justify government killings, and they coldly apply them to the weakest among us. The pro-death side behaves as if some people's value is higher than others, the rights of the victim outweigh the rights of the accused, the desire for retribution should dictate just punishment, and that the government needn't defend everyone equally.
The pro-death camp will admit that trials can deliver wrong verdicts. There's no way to ignore how many defendants get poor legal counsel, and how death-row inmates can be proven innocent on fresh evidence. Yet pro-deathers prefer a criminal system that kills all the murderous guilty along with some innocents over a criminal system that might let a single guilty murderer escape death. The rights of the victims far outweigh the rights of the accused, in their estimation. The blood of the victim on the ground cries out for retribution -- any retribution available -- and the government's overriding duty becomes the delivery of that retribution.
Dominated by that vengeful spirit, the criminal justice system encourages prosecutors to chase a conviction of whoever they can, rather than the truly guilty; it distracts jurors from the lofty standard of reasonable doubt; and it lets supervisory courts forget their supreme duty of justice for all. In that heated atmosphere of swift vengeance, the criminal "justice" system mostly executes the poor, the disadvantaged and racial minorities. Evidently, the pro-death camp is satisfied with a system that can't value some lives as much as others.
Pro-deathers should broaden their principles. Governments exist not merely to deliver criminal justice, but to protect and defend the lives and rights of everyone. When a government executes an innocent person, it violates the ultimate justification for its own existence. The death penalty permits the government to mutate into a loathsome tyrant over its own people, rather than its protector. Other punishment options, especially the life sentence without parole, are sufficient to protect the population and signal disapproval of murder.
Pro-deathers should look inside to ponder this drive to vengeance toward other human beings. The pro-death argument exalts death-retribution as an exemplary valuing of human life. Humanism replies that the rational way to respect human life is to stop killing people. The pro-death side fears weakness in the face of violence against society. Humanism replies that the true strength of a society lies in its commitment to social justice. Pro-deathers are quick to judge who should die and who should live, as if they were a god. Would they want to be on the receiving end of an all-too-human system passing judgment on them?
Humanism stands for valuing the lives of all, individual human rights, justice for everyone, and government that defends all of its people. These grounds alone are sufficient for abolishing the death penalty. Humanism also stands for elevating human dignity and pursuing the nobler virtues of common humanity. Even if some perfected criminal system could execute only the truly guilty, such murderous machinery is still unworthy of us. Any institution that still encourages vengeance and retribution over equal social justice and protection of everyone is a decrepit perversion of civilization.
Humanism looks forward to a time when society consistently respects humane virtues. But a day of execution is day of sadness and shame. May we have mercy on us all.
The views expressed are those of the author, and not necessarily shared by the Center for Inquiry or its staff.
Death penalty supporters appeal to these principles, too. But they narrowly interpret them to justify government killings, and they coldly apply them to the weakest among us. The pro-death side behaves as if some people's value is higher than others, the rights of the victim outweigh the rights of the accused, the desire for retribution should dictate just punishment, and that the government needn't defend everyone equally.
The pro-death camp will admit that trials can deliver wrong verdicts. There's no way to ignore how many defendants get poor legal counsel, and how death-row inmates can be proven innocent on fresh evidence. Yet pro-deathers prefer a criminal system that kills all the murderous guilty along with some innocents over a criminal system that might let a single guilty murderer escape death. The rights of the victims far outweigh the rights of the accused, in their estimation. The blood of the victim on the ground cries out for retribution -- any retribution available -- and the government's overriding duty becomes the delivery of that retribution.
Dominated by that vengeful spirit, the criminal justice system encourages prosecutors to chase a conviction of whoever they can, rather than the truly guilty; it distracts jurors from the lofty standard of reasonable doubt; and it lets supervisory courts forget their supreme duty of justice for all. In that heated atmosphere of swift vengeance, the criminal "justice" system mostly executes the poor, the disadvantaged and racial minorities. Evidently, the pro-death camp is satisfied with a system that can't value some lives as much as others.
Pro-deathers should broaden their principles. Governments exist not merely to deliver criminal justice, but to protect and defend the lives and rights of everyone. When a government executes an innocent person, it violates the ultimate justification for its own existence. The death penalty permits the government to mutate into a loathsome tyrant over its own people, rather than its protector. Other punishment options, especially the life sentence without parole, are sufficient to protect the population and signal disapproval of murder.
Pro-deathers should look inside to ponder this drive to vengeance toward other human beings. The pro-death argument exalts death-retribution as an exemplary valuing of human life. Humanism replies that the rational way to respect human life is to stop killing people. The pro-death side fears weakness in the face of violence against society. Humanism replies that the true strength of a society lies in its commitment to social justice. Pro-deathers are quick to judge who should die and who should live, as if they were a god. Would they want to be on the receiving end of an all-too-human system passing judgment on them?
Humanism stands for valuing the lives of all, individual human rights, justice for everyone, and government that defends all of its people. These grounds alone are sufficient for abolishing the death penalty. Humanism also stands for elevating human dignity and pursuing the nobler virtues of common humanity. Even if some perfected criminal system could execute only the truly guilty, such murderous machinery is still unworthy of us. Any institution that still encourages vengeance and retribution over equal social justice and protection of everyone is a decrepit perversion of civilization.
Humanism looks forward to a time when society consistently respects humane virtues. But a day of execution is day of sadness and shame. May we have mercy on us all.
The views expressed are those of the author, and not necessarily shared by the Center for Inquiry or its staff.
The Humanist Case Against Capital Punishment
Humanism stands for valuing the lives of all, individual human rights, justice for everyone, and government that defends all of its people. These grounds alone are sufficient for abolishing the death penalty.
August 24, 2011
Secularists Celebrate Dr. King Too
Why would nonbelievers hold back appreciation for one of America's heroes of democracy?
It's only natural to suppose that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s fervent Christianity is not esteemed by the nonreligious. His life's achievements are another matter. Like all secularists, nonbelievers regard expansion and protection of civil rights as absolutely critical to democracy's health. Still, Dr. King's faith in God can seem too alien to proper secular democracy.
How Christianity could have guided America through yet another grave Constitutional crisis is a curiosity for those proudly pointing to the Constitution's nonreligious foundations. Didn't religious justifications for individual rights and responsive government retreat into the history books a couple of centuries ago? Secularists of any party across the political spectrum surely agree that appeals to religion can't have a commanding voice in maintaining a religiously neutral government. And atheists would especially object to God-talk where our most precious rights are concerned. Where God delusions lead, only enslavement could follow.
All the same, Dr. King led a people out of bondage and led a country toward a land promised by its revolutionary declaration. Should atheists be unimpressed? Are there any atheists who would apply common criticisms against religion to Dr. King? Was his prophetic vision of universal love just a matter of regrettable brain misfirings? Was his political appeal to the Declaration of Independence flawed for omitting arguments from reason alone? Was his principled view of justice, that no one is truly free until all are free, unnaturally idealistic? Shall atheists judge this mountain of a man not by the content of his character or the impact of his deeds, but by the stain of his creed?
Dr. King's creed was actually a complex system of tenets, some biblical (he preferred liberal interpretations), some philosophical (from his humanistic training in the personalist school at Boston University) and some political (taking democracy as the best form of government). His thought is not the sort of easy target toward which some atheists aim by setting up Christians as poorly educated Bible-toting literalists eager for some divinely violent end. The role of God in ethics is no simple matter within Christianity, and ethics was about far more than just quoting scripture for Dr. King. He was no fundamentalist, and he did not take the "conservative" stance in Christian social ethics either. Instead of obsessing over biblical tradition and ritualistic purity, he identified radical ethical ideals, he invited everyone to join his social cause, and he condemned pharisaic self-righteousness. More like the "prophetic" voice in Christian ethics, Dr. King identified supreme duties we owe to each other to responsibly make this world a more humane place in our lifetimes. There's no waiting around for divine deliverance; in Dr. King's theology, the power of righteousness emerges through us as we transform our world toward the way it should be.
Dr. King's prophetic voice rang out for righteousness and justice here and now, in this life, without further delay. The recognition of who we all truly are, as equally valuable and worthy of compassion, is the needed ethical insight to understand true justice. Let the atheist who disagrees point out who among us is more equal and deserving than the rest. No, humanists cannot turn back from pursuing that ideal pinnacle of social ethics. As an ideal, it possesses no more scientific reality than things half-glimpsed in dreams. But as an ideal guiding our hopes for the future, it can be as powerful as anything in the human world.
Dr. King's appeal to hope was firmly humanistic. His mission was not about raising the hopes of a chosen people for a better invisible world after this one. Dr. King's message was about calling everyone to join a hopeful mission for a visibly better world today. When one's ethical vision perceives who we truly are as beloved and worthy individuals, there's no need to gaze into heavenly distances, but only to look out for each other right here and now. Dr. King had no intention of dividing the country with any divisive religion. Where did he say that only Christians can be righteous? When did he say that only Christians deserve justice?
In a way, Dr. King's religious stance was so universal that "God" functions as a unifying sign reminding us of our own supreme value. As a universalist, any specific religion pretty much drops out as irrelevant, and Dr. King could appeal not to duties owed to God in heaven, but to responsibilities we share toward each other right here. Such loyalty and fidelity to all in the human community transcends narrow creed. This universalism is not only humanistic in its ethics, it is also secular in its politics. As Dr. King knew well, it is secular government -- representative government that treats everyone justly, regardless of any faith or no faith -- that can deliver the promise of universal rights.
Sustaining secular government and robust human rights is an ongoing struggle everywhere, and believers can be natural allies with nonbelievers. What matters is the clear ethical vision and the fidelity to turn idealistic hope into social action. Prophetic humanists like Dr. King can turn out to be pivotal in such struggles. And let us hear no disparagement of "blind faith" where Dr. King is concerned. Those who can view humanity with compassion and see how to treat humanity with fidelity have no need for blind faith. Loyal fidelity to ethical ideals is also a kind of perception, not of what is, but of what should be. Faith becomes blind only when hope dims and fidelity to this world's future fades.
What in Dr. King's fruitful blend of humanistic ethics and universal justice could the secularist find objectionable? I see nothing unreasonable or unseasonable. Secularists celebrate the life and legacy of Dr. King, alongside everyone who still has a dream.
The views expressed are those of the author, and not necessarily shared by the Center for Inquiry or its staff.
It's only natural to suppose that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s fervent Christianity is not esteemed by the nonreligious. His life's achievements are another matter. Like all secularists, nonbelievers regard expansion and protection of civil rights as absolutely critical to democracy's health. Still, Dr. King's faith in God can seem too alien to proper secular democracy.
How Christianity could have guided America through yet another grave Constitutional crisis is a curiosity for those proudly pointing to the Constitution's nonreligious foundations. Didn't religious justifications for individual rights and responsive government retreat into the history books a couple of centuries ago? Secularists of any party across the political spectrum surely agree that appeals to religion can't have a commanding voice in maintaining a religiously neutral government. And atheists would especially object to God-talk where our most precious rights are concerned. Where God delusions lead, only enslavement could follow.
All the same, Dr. King led a people out of bondage and led a country toward a land promised by its revolutionary declaration. Should atheists be unimpressed? Are there any atheists who would apply common criticisms against religion to Dr. King? Was his prophetic vision of universal love just a matter of regrettable brain misfirings? Was his political appeal to the Declaration of Independence flawed for omitting arguments from reason alone? Was his principled view of justice, that no one is truly free until all are free, unnaturally idealistic? Shall atheists judge this mountain of a man not by the content of his character or the impact of his deeds, but by the stain of his creed?
Dr. King's creed was actually a complex system of tenets, some biblical (he preferred liberal interpretations), some philosophical (from his humanistic training in the personalist school at Boston University) and some political (taking democracy as the best form of government). His thought is not the sort of easy target toward which some atheists aim by setting up Christians as poorly educated Bible-toting literalists eager for some divinely violent end. The role of God in ethics is no simple matter within Christianity, and ethics was about far more than just quoting scripture for Dr. King. He was no fundamentalist, and he did not take the "conservative" stance in Christian social ethics either. Instead of obsessing over biblical tradition and ritualistic purity, he identified radical ethical ideals, he invited everyone to join his social cause, and he condemned pharisaic self-righteousness. More like the "prophetic" voice in Christian ethics, Dr. King identified supreme duties we owe to each other to responsibly make this world a more humane place in our lifetimes. There's no waiting around for divine deliverance; in Dr. King's theology, the power of righteousness emerges through us as we transform our world toward the way it should be.
Dr. King's prophetic voice rang out for righteousness and justice here and now, in this life, without further delay. The recognition of who we all truly are, as equally valuable and worthy of compassion, is the needed ethical insight to understand true justice. Let the atheist who disagrees point out who among us is more equal and deserving than the rest. No, humanists cannot turn back from pursuing that ideal pinnacle of social ethics. As an ideal, it possesses no more scientific reality than things half-glimpsed in dreams. But as an ideal guiding our hopes for the future, it can be as powerful as anything in the human world.
Dr. King's appeal to hope was firmly humanistic. His mission was not about raising the hopes of a chosen people for a better invisible world after this one. Dr. King's message was about calling everyone to join a hopeful mission for a visibly better world today. When one's ethical vision perceives who we truly are as beloved and worthy individuals, there's no need to gaze into heavenly distances, but only to look out for each other right here and now. Dr. King had no intention of dividing the country with any divisive religion. Where did he say that only Christians can be righteous? When did he say that only Christians deserve justice?
In a way, Dr. King's religious stance was so universal that "God" functions as a unifying sign reminding us of our own supreme value. As a universalist, any specific religion pretty much drops out as irrelevant, and Dr. King could appeal not to duties owed to God in heaven, but to responsibilities we share toward each other right here. Such loyalty and fidelity to all in the human community transcends narrow creed. This universalism is not only humanistic in its ethics, it is also secular in its politics. As Dr. King knew well, it is secular government -- representative government that treats everyone justly, regardless of any faith or no faith -- that can deliver the promise of universal rights.
Sustaining secular government and robust human rights is an ongoing struggle everywhere, and believers can be natural allies with nonbelievers. What matters is the clear ethical vision and the fidelity to turn idealistic hope into social action. Prophetic humanists like Dr. King can turn out to be pivotal in such struggles. And let us hear no disparagement of "blind faith" where Dr. King is concerned. Those who can view humanity with compassion and see how to treat humanity with fidelity have no need for blind faith. Loyal fidelity to ethical ideals is also a kind of perception, not of what is, but of what should be. Faith becomes blind only when hope dims and fidelity to this world's future fades.
What in Dr. King's fruitful blend of humanistic ethics and universal justice could the secularist find objectionable? I see nothing unreasonable or unseasonable. Secularists celebrate the life and legacy of Dr. King, alongside everyone who still has a dream.
The views expressed are those of the author, and not necessarily shared by the Center for Inquiry or its staff.
Secularists Celebrate Dr. King Too
Are there any atheists who would apply common criticisms against religion to Dr. King? Was his prophetic vision of universal love just a matter of regrettable brain misfirings?
March 25, 2011
Where Can Naturalism and Religion Agree?
The core messages of religion and naturalism do not sound so different, really. Should it be a surprise that they can converge on a morality designed for the essential needs for life?
Where Can Naturalism and Religion Agree?
Surprisingly, naturalism and religion can inspire a common humanistic spirit and ethics of responsibility.
The contest between science and religion has been going on so long that the battles lines seem fixed. Religion's complaints against naturalism are so familiar by now. We often hear it said that naturalism could never support essential human needs, human aspirations and human ideals. We also hear that a humanism grounded on the cold reality of science could never nourish the vital spirit of morality. Is a naturalism without God only able to support a modest humanism reduced to the scale of earthly matters and merely human frailties? Is naturalism unable to inspire us, guide us or console us?
I wonder whether these are fair complaints to make against naturalism. By all means, judge human nature harshly. We are still unworthy of our marvelous habitat and we have not lived up to our natural potential. But judging nature is another matter and deserves more care. And it is only fair to judge us as a living part of nature. As our knowledge of nature's secrets has grown, haven't we been growing right along? We are made greater, for our knowing how much greater is our natural home.
A serious perspective on life takes a fair and proportionate measure of a life. Stand up straight and let a mark be made, to show how tall you can stretch, to a height worthy of a human being. From that height now, survey all you can see, everything for which you care, that tiny sphere of what you call your life. Now, let's lift our eyes even higher from worldly diversions toward the eternal whole. Mounting up upon nature's heights, nature can inspire us, guide us and console us, if only we would understand.
Is naturalism's message really so different from religion's? If the spirit common to religions had but a few propositions, they would sound something like this:
That life is ultimately about a relationship, a connection with what is most supreme.
That there are two worlds, one seen and one unseen.
That the unseen world is the supreme world, and it holds the true power and destiny of all.
There is something essential in us that can survive in new lives.
That what survives of us is what is truly best in us.
That what rightly survives of us is the nobility of virtue, knowledge and wisdom.
That we should not prize the dark peculiarities of personality and ego, but the lasting light that shines through us.
So might the religious spirit speak if it had but few words. What can our knowledge of nature say on these matters? A natural perspective can tell us similar things:
That every life is interrelated, woven and composed of nature's vibrant cords.
That the unseen world of nature's energies shape life and life's beauties in endless new forms.
That your essential energy cannot be lost or destroyed but only recycled with perfect efficiency.
That there is a kind of afterlife, as the consequences of your conduct has influences far into the future of life.
That our virtue, knowledge and wisdom are inherited from prior generations, and we can pass them on to next generations.
That our spark of consciousness dims when the body dies, yet the finer part of our character can be woven into new lives.
That each person should long consider the shortness of life, and the smallness of self-importance besides the immensity of the whole.
The core messages of religion and naturalism do not sound so different, really. Should it even be a surprise that they can converge on a morality designed for the essential needs for life?
But we may be forgiven for failing to hear such harmonious chords. By fighting over knowledge for so long, religion and naturalism have stopped talking about wisdom. Indeed, both religion and naturalism themselves make a great show by distracting us with claims that only it can provide what the other cannot. But life is rarely a zero-sum game in the long run. Does a religion's claim that you must desperately want your personal immortality, lest you be selfishly immoral, really make sense? Does a science's claim that you must sternly regard morality as illusory, lest you be irresponsibly foolish, really make sense? It is time to wisely take a stand on what we all can know to be our common responsibility.
We must at least take care of the genuine human needs of life, this one life that we know we share. And what can we all know? Like the essence of religion, nature's deep ways tell us that you are more than you may appear, even to yourself. Nature shows how its supreme reality recycles everything and preserves what is necessary. Nature reveals how its real powers are available for you to conduct what is best through you into the future where everything must go. Nature tells you that you can have all of the meaningful life to which you are deserving, but not an ounce more, for the energies of life must be distributed fairly. And you waste your natural energies at your peril, for your selfish pursuits only rob you of your rightful destiny.
These are humbling messages, but they are reassuring. Together they say that you have arrived into the world where you belong and that you belong to the world that produced you. That you have no right to hope for a better afterworld until you have made this world better. That you are not entitled to fear death until you have feared to fail at life.
This is truly a message of responsibility and purpose worthy of everyone. We might call it "A Natural Faith," if only we weren't so reasonably sure of its promise. And we'd all be wiser for making it a promise to keep.
The views expressed are those of the author, and not necessarily shared by the Center for Inquiry or its staff.
The contest between science and religion has been going on so long that the battles lines seem fixed. Religion's complaints against naturalism are so familiar by now. We often hear it said that naturalism could never support essential human needs, human aspirations and human ideals. We also hear that a humanism grounded on the cold reality of science could never nourish the vital spirit of morality. Is a naturalism without God only able to support a modest humanism reduced to the scale of earthly matters and merely human frailties? Is naturalism unable to inspire us, guide us or console us?
I wonder whether these are fair complaints to make against naturalism. By all means, judge human nature harshly. We are still unworthy of our marvelous habitat and we have not lived up to our natural potential. But judging nature is another matter and deserves more care. And it is only fair to judge us as a living part of nature. As our knowledge of nature's secrets has grown, haven't we been growing right along? We are made greater, for our knowing how much greater is our natural home.
A serious perspective on life takes a fair and proportionate measure of a life. Stand up straight and let a mark be made, to show how tall you can stretch, to a height worthy of a human being. From that height now, survey all you can see, everything for which you care, that tiny sphere of what you call your life. Now, let's lift our eyes even higher from worldly diversions toward the eternal whole. Mounting up upon nature's heights, nature can inspire us, guide us and console us, if only we would understand.
Is naturalism's message really so different from religion's? If the spirit common to religions had but a few propositions, they would sound something like this:
That life is ultimately about a relationship, a connection with what is most supreme.
That there are two worlds, one seen and one unseen.
That the unseen world is the supreme world, and it holds the true power and destiny of all.
There is something essential in us that can survive in new lives.
That what survives of us is what is truly best in us.
That what rightly survives of us is the nobility of virtue, knowledge and wisdom.
That we should not prize the dark peculiarities of personality and ego, but the lasting light that shines through us.
So might the religious spirit speak if it had but few words. What can our knowledge of nature say on these matters? A natural perspective can tell us similar things:
That every life is interrelated, woven and composed of nature's vibrant cords.
That the unseen world of nature's energies shape life and life's beauties in endless new forms.
That your essential energy cannot be lost or destroyed but only recycled with perfect efficiency.
That there is a kind of afterlife, as the consequences of your conduct has influences far into the future of life.
That our virtue, knowledge and wisdom are inherited from prior generations, and we can pass them on to next generations.
That our spark of consciousness dims when the body dies, yet the finer part of our character can be woven into new lives.
That each person should long consider the shortness of life, and the smallness of self-importance besides the immensity of the whole.
The core messages of religion and naturalism do not sound so different, really. Should it even be a surprise that they can converge on a morality designed for the essential needs for life?
But we may be forgiven for failing to hear such harmonious chords. By fighting over knowledge for so long, religion and naturalism have stopped talking about wisdom. Indeed, both religion and naturalism themselves make a great show by distracting us with claims that only it can provide what the other cannot. But life is rarely a zero-sum game in the long run. Does a religion's claim that you must desperately want your personal immortality, lest you be selfishly immoral, really make sense? Does a science's claim that you must sternly regard morality as illusory, lest you be irresponsibly foolish, really make sense? It is time to wisely take a stand on what we all can know to be our common responsibility.
We must at least take care of the genuine human needs of life, this one life that we know we share. And what can we all know? Like the essence of religion, nature's deep ways tell us that you are more than you may appear, even to yourself. Nature shows how its supreme reality recycles everything and preserves what is necessary. Nature reveals how its real powers are available for you to conduct what is best through you into the future where everything must go. Nature tells you that you can have all of the meaningful life to which you are deserving, but not an ounce more, for the energies of life must be distributed fairly. And you waste your natural energies at your peril, for your selfish pursuits only rob you of your rightful destiny.
These are humbling messages, but they are reassuring. Together they say that you have arrived into the world where you belong and that you belong to the world that produced you. That you have no right to hope for a better afterworld until you have made this world better. That you are not entitled to fear death until you have feared to fail at life.
This is truly a message of responsibility and purpose worthy of everyone. We might call it "A Natural Faith," if only we weren't so reasonably sure of its promise. And we'd all be wiser for making it a promise to keep.
The views expressed are those of the author, and not necessarily shared by the Center for Inquiry or its staff.
Where Can Naturalism And Religion Agree?
The core messages of religion and naturalism do not sound so different, really. Should it be a surprise that they can converge on a morality designed for the essential needs for life?
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(yet),
but they
do have a blog,
so here are some recent posts imported from
their feed.
