This Present Age?

I trotted off the following piece just before Easter. It was an attempt to subvert the usual process of public theology a bit, given that the appeal to the usual authorities doesn't seem to work. My hunch is, that given the choice, the inert masses will actually not choose atheism. Why not goad them into making a choice. The high enrolments in church-run schools I cite as evidence...

Anyhow, when I discussed it with some older, wiser heads, the feeling was that in fact this was a foolish piece to run. I publish it now here in the subjunctive form: here is what I might have written; here is what I might think...or, possibily not as the case may be... Love to have your thoughts.

This present age is an age of such spiritual inertia and cowardice that we don’t even believe in our own unbelief.

We haven’t the courage of our secularist convictions. Churches are still afforded protection by the law. Christian organisations are still exempted from all kinds of discrimination laws and given multi-million dollar tax breaks. Church schools receive government funding. We let Christians hold us to ransom on euthanasia laws and genetic engineering. And yet, most of us never go within coo-ee of the church (unless someone carks it, or gets hitched...).

So passionless are we that we think we can repudiate the Christian church and yet
cling to the bland middle-class morality called Christian ‘values’. This is a morality for the gutless, with its thoughtless (and godless) worship of hard work and the nuclear family. ‘Working families’, and all that guff.

So mindlessly nostalgic are we that we have forgotten to scrape off the sticky residues of Christian belief. In a recent survey published by the Centre for Public Christianity and reported in the Herald it was discovered that 45% of unbelievers still believe that Jesus rose from the dead! If this is really so, why are so many people sleeping in on Sunday mornings when they think that there is another world to prepare for?

Most of us – even the professed atheists among us - still hold to the essentially Christian teaching that human beings are special. But we have no idea why we think it, other than it is convenient. The atheist philosopher John Gray, of the London School of Economics, writes that ‘contemporary atheism is a Christian heresy that differs from earlier heresies chiefly in its intellectual crudity’. An atheistic humanism, he says, is plainly ridiculous. If unbelievers are going to embrace their unbelief, they had better leave such vestiges of Christian faith behind. We are still happy to let Christian churches pick up the slack of our welfare programmes, and let them do a large proportion of our educating and our health services. Are there no secular reasons to be committed to these things? Is it only those with views we consider pre-modern and pre-scientific that believe in community?

And we still want the holidays! We can’t yet rid ourselves of these unnecessary and inconvenient reminders of all that we have left behind us. We have to keep celebrating the death of the Christian saviour and his resurrection because some of us can’t get around to finally affirming that we don’t think it happened. Can’t we at least be consistent?

The unbelief of Australians is better described as non-belief. It has nothing to do with informed opinion. It is just couch-potato stuff, unthinkingly inherited from our parents. It has nothing to do with careful consideration of the claims of the faith we reject, let’s face it. I am sure we can find other more meaningful excuses for a long weekend. How about ‘when you’re dead you’re dead’ Sunday? Or ‘Philip Adams’ Friday?

These are blasphemies against our secular faith. There are in Christianity shocking contradictions of all we hold most dear as a community. We ought to live out the meaning of our unbelieving creed and have done with it all – at least for consistency’s sake. We ought to protect our public space from such blather – if that’s what we think it is - and do so with all the vigour we can muster.

The Sin of Impiety

What disturbed the pagans about the Christians?

That in itself is a tricky historical question. But, broadly speaking, the first Christians stood accused of impiety. That word or its opposite is actually used often in the martyr-acts in the interrogation of the suspects, and despite the Christians protesting that in fact they were dutiful citizens in good standing with everybody, they could not go forward and sacrifice to the Emperor in order to maintain the peace. That is to say, their lack of worshipful regard for the spirits that were held to be the guarantors of social order and agricultural fruitfulness caused their neighbours no end of worry. Tertullian famously wrote (in Apologeticum 40): "If the Tiber rises so high it floods the walls, or the Nile so low it doesn't flood the fields, if the earth opens, or the heavens don't, if there is famine, if there is plague, instantly the howl goes up, "The Christians to the lion!" What, all of them? to a single lion?" Ha ha. Christians were labelled atheists because of their impiety.

I have mentioned Jeffrey Stout's definition of piety before:

Piety ... is not to be understood primarily as a felling, expressed in acts of devotion, but rather as a virtue, a morally excellent aspect of character. It consists in just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress through life. Family, political community, the natural world, and God are all said to be sources on which we depend, sources to be acknowledged appropriately.

We need to forget the use of piety in its strictly religious sense. In Stout's sense, there remains today a properly social piety: that 'just or appropriate response to the sources of one's existence and progress'. These may be entirely material: so, the nostrums of liberal order - free speech, rights, freedom of/from religion, equality and so on, need to be treated with due regard. They can even be sung about. It is interesting that 'good luck' or 'fate' still looms large in contemporary vision of piety, since whatever good fortune we enjoy is a result of the turn of the wheel in our favour. And so, modern culture is replete with sacrifices to fortune - in the form of gambling and divinisation; and also defences erected against the arbitrary turns of the wheel (life insurance anyone?). Also, the almost sacred regard family enjoys, even today, comes unexpectedly to those who continually rail against its demise. Environmentalism (rightly) appeals to piety in this sense.

Is it fair to say that Christians stand once again accused of impiety: for we give scant regard to 'luck', or ought not to. More importantly perhaps, we with other religious people threaten the fragile and hard won peace of our communities by bringing our beliefs to the table. Or, by becoming another special interest lobby group we cut ourselves off from our community and the duties of membership in it. We deny the absoluteness of family ties (or ought to); we shockingly tell young people that they ought not to pursue material goals or pleasure as their priority. By suggesting that all religions are not the same we again stand accused of threatening the social order, of inflaming 'religious hatred' or whatever...

Charles Taylor - A Secular Age III

Taylor's book is studded with great insights, and written with the lucidity of a chat over coffee. I have interrupted the story of the switch from the porous self to the buffered self to dip into the book at more random places today. This stood out, given my recent thinking about matters papal:

The secular age is schizophrenic, or better, deeply cross-pressured. People seem at a safe distance from religion; and yet they are very moved to know that there are dedicated believers, like Mother Teresa. The unbelieving world, well used to disliking Pius XII, was bowled over by John XXIII. A Pope just had to sound like a Christian, and many immemorial resistances melted...It's as though many people who don't want to follow want nevertheless to hear the message of Christ, want it to be proclaimed out there. The paradox was evident in the response to the late Pope. Many people were inspired by John Paul's public perpatetic preaching, about love, about world peace, about international economic justice. They are thrilled that these things are being said. But even many Catholics among his admireres didn't feel that they must follow his all his moral injunctions... (p. 727)

What does this mean for a diocese at mission, like the Sydney diocese?

Charles Taylor - A Secular Age

Well Charles Taylor's mighty effort A Secular Age is here. I am daunted by the prospect: I am still chewing over things I learnt in Sources of the Self.

His opening ploy is to say that the word 'secular' has been used in three senses. 'Secularity 1' describes the secularisation of public spaces - it is the official separation of church and state for example, or the insistence that religious arguments be inadmissable in public debate.

'Secularity 2' however has come about at pretty much the same time. And that is the decline of religious belief and practice. Now, S1 needn't mean S2: in the US there is a very strong sense of S1 but if anything a stronger sense that S2 is not occuring.

But Taylor's object in this study is S3: which he says 'consists of new conditions of belief; it consists in a new shape to the experience which prompts to and is defined by belief; in a new context in which all search and questioning about the moral and spiritual must proceed.' (p. 20) Or, earlier he says 'the change I want to define and trace is on e which takes us from a society in which it was virtually impossible not to believe in God, to one in which faith, even for the staunchest believer, is one possibility among others...Belief in God is no longer axiomatic. There are alternatives.'

Secularity in this sense is a whole context of understanding, in which our moral/religious quest takes place. Taylor interestingly argues that S1 did not bring about S2, as is commonly thought: but it did bring about or had a share in bringing about S3...

Charles Taylor on the space for religon in the modern state

Just received Charles Taylor's Modern Social Imagineries. An intriguing passage jumped out at first browse:

We can now see the space for religion in the modern state, for God can figure strongly in the political identity. It can be that we see ourselves as fulfilling God's will in setting up a polity that maximally follows his precepts, as many Americans have done...Or our national identity can refer to God, if we see ourselves as defined partly by our unique piety and faithfulness.

Taylor goes on to say that this reference to God cna degenerate so that piety fades and only chauvanism remains (examples abound), 'but this identity presence can also nourish a living faith'.

This is the new space for God in the secular world. ... in the public world, the disapperance of an ontic dependence on something higher can be replaced by a strong presence of God in our political identity. p. 193

We may live in a less enchanted universe, but God's will can be very present to us as 'the inescapable source for our power to impart order to our lives, both individually and socially.'