Friday, November 21, 2008

Religion & "Niceness"? Community Identity & Happiness? Faith & Spiritual Journey?

Many Americans doubt the morality of atheists. According to a 2007 Gallup poll, a majority of Americans say that they would not vote for an otherwise qualified atheist as president, meaning a nonbeliever would have a harder time getting elected than a Muslim, a homosexual, or a Jew. Many would go further and agree with conservative commentator Laura Schlessinger that morality requires a belief in God—otherwise, all we have is our selfish desires. In The Ten Commandments, she approvingly quotes Dostoyevsky: "Where there is no God, all is permitted." The opposing view, held by a small minority of secularists, such as Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Sam Harris, and Christopher Hitchens, is that belief in God makes us worse. As Hitchens puts it, "Religion poisons everything."

--Paul Bloom, Slate Magazine


And so the American cultural battle goes between theists and anti-theists. The religious seeing good resulting only from faith in God and faith community; the secular seeing only the excesses of narrow and rigid religious organizations, and the dysfunction and suffering resulting. Of course, both are to some extent right--and both are wrong. That much--to the objective and informed person, at least--is quite clear.

Religion & Niceness

In his recent Slate article, "Does Religion Make You Nice? Does Atheism Make You Mean?," Paul Bloom reviews recent research suggesting that religious people--especially when mindful or reminded of their religious identity--are more generous than non-religious people. But the reasons proffered suggest more going on than a simple transforming faith in God.

[The research authors] suggest that this lopsided outcome is the result of an evolutionary imperative to care about one's reputation. If you think about God, you believe someone is watching. This argument is bolstered by other research that they review showing that people are more generous and less likely to cheat when others are around. More surprisingly, people also behave better when exposed to posters with eyes on them.

Maybe, then, religious people are nicer because they believe that they are never alone. If so, you would expect to find the positive influence of religion outside the laboratory. And, indeed, there is evidence within the United States for a correlation between religion and what might broadly be called "niceness." In Gross National Happiness, Arthur Brooks notes that atheists are less charitable than their God-fearing counterparts: They donate less blood, for example, and are less likely to offer change to homeless people on the street. Since giving to charity makes one happy, Brooks speculates that this could be one reason why atheists are so miserable. In a 2004 study, twice as many religious people say that they are very happy with their lives, while the secular are twice as likely to say that they feel like failures.


It would be understandable, then, if based only on that information you concluded that religious people really are "nicer," however complicated the reasons. But then there are these other confounding studies and findings that might support a different conclusion.

In his new book, Society Without God, Phil Zuckerman looks at the Danes and the Swedes—probably the most godless people on Earth. They don't go to church or pray in the privacy of their own homes; they don't believe in God or heaven or hell. But, by any reasonable standard, they're nice to one another. They have a famously expansive welfare and health care service. They have a strong commitment to social equality. And—even without belief in a God looming over them—they murder and rape one another significantly less frequently than Americans do.

...The Danes and the Swedes, despite being godless, have strong communities. In fact, Zuckerman points out that most Danes and Swedes identify themselves as Christian. [And they once were devout Christian nations, a point I will return to later in reference to my own writings.] They get married in church, have their babies baptized, give some of their income to the church, and feel attached to their religious community—they just don't believe in God. Zuckerman suggests that Scandinavian Christians are a lot like American Jews, who are also highly secularized in belief and practice, have strong communal feelings, and tend to be
well-behaved.


...Denmark and Sweden aren't exceptions. A 2005 study by Gregory Paul looking at 18 democracies found that the more atheist societies tended to have relatively low murder and suicide rates and relatively low incidence of abortion and teen pregnancy.

Community & Happiness

Now, considering these additional findings, the case for needing faith in God to be nice or good appears to fall apart. Looking at this puzzle, Bloom wonders why within the United States, religion seems to make you a nicer person, while in non-religious societies, somehow, atheists are very nice people and--in many ways--nicer than religious ones. Of course, he has an opinion.

...And [also] there is the community that a religion brings with it—the people who are part of your church, synagogue, or mosque.

The positive effect of religion in the real world, to my mind, is tied to this last, community component—rather than a belief in constant surveillance by a higher power. Humans are social beings, and we are happier, and better, when connected to others. This is the moral of sociologist Robert Putnam's work on American life. In Bowling Alone, he argues that voluntary association with other people is integral to a fulfilled and productive existence—it makes us "smarter, healthier, safer, richer, and better able to govern a just and stable democracy."

American atheists, by contrast, are often left out of community life. The studies that Brooks cites in Gross National Happiness, which find that the religious are happier and more generous then the secular, do not define religious and secular in terms of belief. They define it in terms of religious attendance. It is not hard
to see how being left out of one of the dominant modes of American togetherness
can have a corrosive effect on morality. As P.Z. Myers, the biologist and prominent atheist, puts it, "[S]cattered individuals who are excluded from communities do not receive the benefits of community, nor do they feel willing to contribute to the communities that exclude them."


The sorry state of American atheists, then, may have nothing to do with their lack of religious belief. It may instead be the result of their outsider status within a highly religious country where many of their fellow citizens, including very vocal ones like Schlessinger, find them immoral and unpatriotic. Religion may not poison
everything, but it deserves part of the blame for this one.


...There is no evidence that, when you factor out community, those who believe in a deity are any better than those who don't. The important part of religion is the people who are around you, not the gods above.

A Different, Complementary Perspective

A few years ago, I addressed this question from a different perspective in my essay "Good People," the last in my Identity's Complaint series. I suggested that the influence of multi-generational acculturation within a faith community, and genetic selection by marriageable couples for the predisposition to the values of their faith community may account for much of our good behavior, whether or not particular individuals of later generations claim that faith or not.

Questions about behavior and culture almost always bump up against the age-old questions of nature or nurture—or, to what extent nature or nurture is involved in shaping them. And it would probably be easy for students of these questions to agree that most behavior is a function of both—to some degree a function of our genetic prescriptions or predispositions, and to some degree a function of family, social, and cultural learning or conditioning.

To expand on that, certainly it would seem likely that 4000-5000 years of Judaic faith and culture, on the one hand, or 1000-2000 years of Christian faith and culture on the other, would likely exert significant conditioning or shaping influence on the values, character and behavior of generations of individuals raised in families in those faith cultures. And doubtless, the reproducing young men and women in those cultures sought spouses with characteristics that those cultures and families honored and rewarded most. To the extent those were genetically-influenced traits or predispositions, they would be the most likely selected and genetically transferred through the generations. And this is no less true for other faith traditions and cultures that have endured for millennia.

So, it would seem defensible to suggest that whether or not an individual were observant of their Judaic, Christian or other faith today, they would nonetheless likely carry the same cultural values, honor the same personal characteristics of "good" people, and likely be indistinguishable in that respect from their faithful or observant brethren. That is to say, we could easily be indifferent or even antagonistic toward the faith of our forefathers, but owe our own predisposition toward the good behavior of good people to the social behavior and values conditioned or genetically passed to us through the generations of our families in their religious cultures.

Faith & Spiritual Journey: What God?

Does that mean there is no God? Does it mean that all the answers are to be found outside ourselves and our sense of identity in the more limited world of the biological and social sciences, rather than a search for a spiritual identity and transcendent truth? Later in my piece, "Good People," I suggest there is more than that, and a body of experience and knowledge to support it.

It is often more about our personal depths to be plumbed, following an internal voice faintly heard, seeking a truth which at first is more sensed or apprehended than articulated or understood. It is about seeking and finding peace about that which passes and that which endures. It challenges us with notions of humility and transcendence. It challenges us to understand ourselves as a passing experience, identity and consciousness, which is somehow part of a greater Purpose and existence that endures. This understanding and peace, ever incomplete but continually unfolding, seems more often extended by invitation and accepted than pursued. And it appears that the more attentive we are to the unfolding, the more often we accept the invitations, the deeper, more intimate the journey becomes.

But can the existence of God be proven--or disproven? What is the case to be made for faith? Of course, all people of faith have their own case to make, their own story to tell. I make mine in my What God? series of essays, and in particular in my essay "What God?"

First, allow me to respond with a question of my own: does a genetic predisposition or the involvement of biochemical, neurological or psychological processes—including necessarily, evolutionary processes—dictate that there is no greater purpose, no Author or Director Spirit, no spiritual Mystery, no God in control? How does that follow? How else might we have been ushered to this place and time, ready to ask the great questions, ready to search out the purposes for it all, ready to encounter the One who calls us?

You look askance at me, and I understand. But after all is said and seen, the work of science provides no more evidence for the absence of God than for His presence. Neuroscience, for example, struggles with the relationship between neurological processes and consciousness, whether that of everyday phenomena or spiritual experience. They even struggle with a useful, researchable definition of consciousness. And to the extent they approach questions of God at all, they are reduced to proxy questions of faith consciousness or spiritual experience, which in turn are approached only through proxy measures of attendant neurological activity. However important this basic research—and it is important—it appears to provide only another groping, attenuated and unavailing approach to scientifically answering questions about the existence of God, and adds but very little to understanding the experience of God.

...And so I am left with my epiphanies, still asking, what could be more miraculous and awe-inspiring, more beautiful, more humbling, than the complexities and unfathomable realities of evolutionary mechanisms and the progress of life? How else than through these evolving biochemical, genetic, social and psychological processes might all of creation have moved continually upward toward sentience and cognition, curiosity and questioning, the pursuit of truth and identity? For what other purpose might we be brought face to face with the history of the development of creation, and those transcendent apprehensions that lead us, than to seek the sensed Author and understandings of why we are now here?

...As I continue my faith journey, I have available to me the breadth of today's considerable knowledge and understandings set side-by-side with the shared knowledge and understandings of the ages. To that I add my own existential and spiritual experiences, and it all contributes to what I know and understand. And as my mind, heart and soul are so informed—as it all continually changes me—it also informs what I believe. And it all sets the occasion for my evolving relationship with God, and my understanding of Him. It all might seem to you epistemologically circular, but for me it forms the most important of my understandings.

So, I cannot work with the supposition that God does not exist. My experience and understandings will not allow it. I could no more deny or abandon the reality of my Spirit-of-God experience than my spirit-of-man experience—kin and connected as they inextricably seem to be, transcending our individual identities as they so often do. To do so would also render life too vain, and hope and the reasons to reach higher unacceptably less than my soul requires. Even though others seem able to deny or abandon the reality of one or both—and do—I cannot. We each must make our own choices, however informed they may be, and however they may be informed.

And I would also add my conclusion and invitation from my essay, "Being Found" (also included in the What God? series):

Be found by God. Watch for Him; listen for Him. And whenever, wherever He finds you, go with Him. Just take yourself along. His Peace He promises and His Peace He gives, but it is not easy to receive. Find, be with the people who know God and can accompany and direct you. Be ready to change and grow, continually. Be ready for challenge as well as joy. Be ready to see the world, its people and problems, your life and friends, with new, more understanding eyes. Be ready for a faith that transcends, but a life that is renewed, involved and serving. With Him, we are always growing and seeing things new—especially who He is, and our loving relationship with Him and each other. As much as you can, hold onto those caring and generous sentiments, those grateful and forgiving feelings. Hold onto Love, and let it show.

But why, then, do so many Christians appear so angry, judgmental, even intolerant, so politically contentious and alienating? Why do so many appear unloving, unforgiving, and lacking in compassion and kindness to those outside their religious community? Why do they appear to reflect so very little of the humble, nonjudgmental character the Bible ascribe to Jesus? Why do they appear to distrust the efficacy of God's work, and feel they must take into their own hands the public approval or disapproval of the choices other people make?

These are good and fair questions. Allow me first to respond that many Christians, with all their human failings, do strive to live as close to Jesus' teaching and example as they can, God willing and His Spirit leading. As to the others, I don't know the answer, not entirely, anyway. But I do know that it has a lot to do with traversing the challenging bridge of faith with the limitations and failings of our human nature and the alluring, lesser values of the world that call and claim us. But I share your concerns, and have my thoughts about it all that I expressed in my essay "Missing the Point About Jesus," found also in my What God? series.

People claim Jesus for many reasons. You know that, of course, and that their faith in Him can mean so many different things. But He may or may not change the way they consider and live their lives. But if they do claim Him, or a faith related to Him, shouldn't it change them?

There are many who attend church—regularly, perhaps, on particular religious holidays, or just unpredictably. Regardless, they know the language and rituals of their Christian church community; they know the culture and the teaching. And yet I have not seen much change in many of them—in what they do or say, in who they are. At the very least, shouldn't they reflect some of Jesus' love and forgiveness, some of His humility and compassion toward others, both within and without their faith community.

Rather, too often, their faith and church appear a convenient front, and their Jesus claimed more a cloaking justification, an excuse, for culturally-biased, sometimes bigoted views and actions. Too often, they claim their ersatz, reinterpreted Jesus—their distorted biblical teaching and Christian history, too—to support their public judgements and intolerance, their lack of public compassion and concern for the poor, their aggressive political agendas to legislate their cultural values on others. I recognize none of this in the Jesus I find in the Bible, the Jesus that abides also in my heart.

[And after exploring some of these matters further, I conclude:]

So, where do we go from here? If we would follow after Him, should we be surprised that Jesus calls us first to seek and experience the consuming love of God, and to learn to love Him in the same consuming way? Should we be surprised that in that process, Jesus calls us to move beyond our limited sense of worldly identity, it's addictive attachments and selfish strivings, and invite more of His Spirit and nature to abide in us. And, second, He calls us to allow that love to overflow in an expression of love and caring for all others.

Jesus, by His teaching and example, then makes clear his first priorities for our life of love and service. In the context and with the gravity of final judgment, He calls us to feed and clothe the poor; to visit and care for the ill, infirm and unable; to invite in the stranger, and visit the prisoner. He wants you and me to attend them, care for them, feed them. That is where we go from here. Those are the things that should fill and direct my life of faith and yours.

Faith Journey and Loneliness

And what of Bloom's conclusion in his Slate article about community marginalization and loneliness? If you really go down this path of a life more focused on Jesus teaching and example, if you are more indwelt, informed and led by His Spirit, doesn't it necessarily distance you from so many of the Christian communities that we have discussed? Doesn't it leave you feeling particularly alienated by the more publicly aggressive Christian organizations and churches? Doesn't there result a sense of division and isolation? Can that be good? No, it is not good that this situation exists, not for Christians, their churches or for society at large; but yes, it is most certainly good that you feel distanced and alienated by it. There are much better alternatives.

First of all, there are Christian churches--and there are certainly individuals--that often succeed in carrying Jesus' love, compassion, humility, and nonjudgmental teaching into their life and relationships outside the church. Seek them out. And my experience is that your faith life does not find balance in God's creation, in His work and among His people--and all people are God's people--unless you also find community and nonjudgmental relationships among the many good and nice people in the broader world at large. But most important, your sense of identity and wholeness must be invested most deeply in life with Christ seeking after God. There is no enduring loneliness in those places, most especially when--as you find community and relationship--you also find life in God.

http://www.slate.com/id/2203614/pagenum/all

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