So religion will be extinct by 2035 and it’ll mostly be the fault of do-gooder organisations like the ones I work for who are trying to end poverty. Bloody charities! (Christian ones, I might add…) Why couldn’t they just leave well enough alone?
This is the view of a new paper published by Psychology Today which tracks the rise and fall of religious belief and pretty much concludes that as poverty falls, so too does the need for God. Afterall, if you’ve got an iphone, why would you need a deity? You can ask Siri for just about anything and she’s more than happy to oblige. God, on the other hand…
Atheism, anthropologist James Fraser argues, is pretty much the domain of those who believe they can provide for themselves. People who live in economically developed countries are more able to predict and control forces of nature – thus, science supplants religion as a major belief, the paper concludes. Likewise, countries with more stable governments able to care for them and with longer life expectancies see less need to rely either on the hand of God or the idea of an afterlife.
Fair call. Makes perfect sense. And it’s hard to argue with the stats. Heaps of the growth in religions does take place in the developing world. But the growth is significant, at 25 000 000 new converts each year to Christianity alone, still the fastest growing faith. The sheer weight of numbers alone in a country like China, where Christianity is undergoing a massive boom, is enough to make clergy who are desperate for growth here in Australia drool into their dog collars.
It’s a little depressing, however, to conclude that people primarily reach out for God when life has dealt them such a poor deal they have no one else to hang onto. Perplexing to imagine that as soon as we have the means we dump the deity along with the analogue TV. That our minds evolve away from the possibility of God-ness.
I’m pretty sure it’s not accurate to equate all faith in developing countries – or anywhere else – with the simple notion of supply and demand suggested by the authors of the study. There’s a richness and diversity to faith that goes far beyond the stereotype presented here. But let’s suppose, just for a minute, that there’s something in it. Exactly what kind of God, in that case, would it be who’s being ditched?
If the religion that’s being rejected is the religion of the old white guy in the sky who holds our fate in the palm of his hand and doles out either blessing or suffering according to his ‘divine will’ then I can’t say I’m either too surprised or bothered by his passing. This is the God who is the product of what I’d describe as a pretty flat reading of the Scriptures and a distorted PR campaign by the Church – a God whose main function is to keep us honest lest we fall foul of his judgement, provide us with comfort in the knowledge that somewhere out there He’s on our side even when it doesn’t feel like it and ultimately pluck us safely away to Heaven where we can spend eternity stroking a harp and singing His praises.
The death of that God? No great loss.
I had a conversation with Jem a few weeks back, both of us tucked up in her bed, which began with my suggesting, straight faced, that actually the mainly great thing about Easter is the chocolate.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” Jem says in mock horror. “You’re supposed to be telling me that your life revolves around JESUS and nothing in the world is more important than JESUS!”
“Are you not getting that impression, then?” I say.
“Well…” says Jem thoughtfully, beginning to wave her hands around in a vaguely circular motion. “I kind of get the impression that Jesus is… you know…”
“A window cleaner?” I ask, pointing at her hand gestures because I’m in one of those moods to just be a pain in the rear.
Jem laughs and then hauls up short.
“Well actually, yes.” she says, suddenly thoughtful. “That’s quite a good metaphor for what Jesus seems like in your life to me. It’s like Jesus makes things clearer. So you can see more easily. So yes. He’s a window cleaner.”
Bam! We go on to unpack together what all that might mean and how my faith has evolved blah blah blah, but actually I’m just incredibly chuffed that my 11 year old thinks Jesus is the window cleaner in my life.
Please forgive me if this sounds heretical, arrogant or misguided. But I don’t look to God as the source of either my blessing or my suffering. I don’t beg God for protection and for me, the game isn’t about eternal life. I am agnostic about a million things that classic religion probably regards as essential. My scientific knowledge sits happily alongside my wordless wonder and joyful thanks. But God seems to me the ultimate expression of Love – Love that’s with me regardless of the circumstances of my life, Love that calls me to be with others regardless of the circumstances of theirs. Love that is stronger than death. And yes – seeing life through the lens of the person of Jesus makes things clearer for me. For this, I am truly grateful even as I realise I no doubt understand actually very little.
I would fight to keep that relationship alive in the face of this so-called onslaught of atheism born of prosperity. I would. But something tells me I won’t have to.
Alain De Botton might be one of atheism’s finest spokespeople, but his book on Religion for Atheists only convinced me more deeply of religion’s merits. Wisdom, community, kindness, education, tenderness, perspective, art – these are the gifts that Botton recognises religion brings in abundance. I’ve been a glad recipient all my life.
If ‘ending poverty’ ends belief in a God of a particular kind, so be it. But if in its place grows relationship with the God who is Love and calls us to fearlessly embody that love for people and planet, then bring it on.
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