Moral questions: What do Pat Robertson and Young Adults have in common?

David Brooks’ latest op-ed is getting a lot of attention. He is commenting on a study done by Christian Smith et al, Lost in Transition. Brooks writes:

Smith and company found an atmosphere of extreme moral individualism — of relativism and nonjudgmentalism. Again, this doesn’t mean that America’s young people are immoral. Far from it. But, Smith and company emphasize, they have not been given the resources — by schools, institutions and families — to cultivate their moral intuitions, to think more broadly about moral obligations, to check behaviors that may be degrading. In this way, the study says more about adult America than youthful America.

Adam J. Copeland ponders Brooks’ article and concludes:

I look forward to reading Smith’s book, but I’ll do so uneasily. When I somehow find the time to pick it up, I’ll do so with this question at the forefront of my mind: Is it that young adults truly have fewer moral resources with which to deal with moral questions than previous generations, or is it that today’s questions are so much more complex that young adults need more skills and understanding to just tread water in our consumeristic pluralized technologically-advanced globalized world?

After all, it’s much easier to teach and theologize that “murder is wrong” than it is to discuss unmanned drone strikes in remote border areas of Afghanistan/Pakistan during an unfunded “war on terror” lasting over ten years.

Christian Caryl writes about the use of drones and other robotics, how they are changing the nature of warfare, and the moral and ethical questions their current use and potential abilities raise. Particularly chilling is a first-hand account by a drone operator in Nevada of his experience targeting drones for use in Afghanistan:

Even though home and wife are just a few minutes’ drive down the road from his battle station, the peculiar detachment of drone warfare does not necessarily insulate Martin from his actions. Predator attacks are extraordinarily precise, but the violence of war can never be fully tamed, and the most gripping scenes in the book document Martin’s emotions on the occasions when innocent civilians wander under his crosshairs in the seconds just before his Hellfire missile arrives on target. Allied bomber pilots in World War II killed millions of civilians but rarely had occasion to experience the results on the ground. Drone operators work with far greater accuracy, but the irony of the technology is that its operators can see their accidental victims—two little boys and their shattered bikes, in one especially heartrending case Martin describes—in excruciating detail.

Jonathan D. Fitzgerald also considers Brooks’ article, uses it in class, and confirms Smith’s conclusion (and this is at a “Christian college”). Fitzgerald, like Brooks, blames this moral relativism on individualism, and sees the same among students identified as Evangelicals or raised in megachurches.

Christian Smith, author of the study, answers the question as well.

My experience is that most youth would like to understand and believe in moral realism—that real moral facts exist in the universe that are not merely human constructions—but nobody has taught them how that is possible, how all the pieces can fit together in an intellectually coherent way.

The problem may not be a failure of families, institutions, and culture. Moral reasoning in a complex, globalized world, is difficult.  I do think Copeland’s question is valid. I wonder whether earlier generations were better able to deal with a moral dilemma, or that they simply accepted rules as given and universal and given that the world, or the world they experienced was less complex, moral reasoning was easier. Distinguishing right from wrong is relatively simple when small communities, made up of relatives and friends, are providing the resources for moral reflection and the sanctions, too.

Unfortunately, it’s not just young adults who have difficulty with moral questions. Adults do as well, and so do so-called family values conservative Christian televangelists. Witness Pat Robertson. Here’s a takedown of his argument.

From an interview with Robert N. Bellah

Bellah’s new book, Religion in Human Evolution, is just out. I’ve linked to an earlier interview here.

This interview with Nathan Schneider is well-worth reading; full of insight and food for thought. But there are two quotations that I especially like:

The academic world is one of the few places where prejudice is supposed to be totally banned, and we’re politically correct on everything, but it’s still a place where you can attack religion out of utter, complete, bottomless ignorance and not be considered to have done anything wrong. It’s astounding to me to hear what some people can say with the assumption that everyone would agree with them, based on nothing whatsoever.

Schneider asked about “Sheilaism,” first identified in Habits of the Heart, the phenomenon that Americans increasingly create spiritual and religious meaning for themselves, without connecting to community of any sort. Here’s the interchange:

NS: An important part of your message has been the famous concern expressed in Habits of the Heart about “Sheilaism”—the kind of individualistic spirituality that you and your colleagues saw at work in the United States. Some have suggested recently, including your former student Harvey Cox, that some of these nontraditional spiritualities are finding a place in social and political life in a way that wasn’t quite recognized before. Is the way you think about new kinds of spiritualities evolving?

RB: I certainly think that so-called spirituality can have social and even political consequences. I’ve seen this among environmental activists, who often have some kind of eco-spirituality and who are very organizationally loose. They switch from one group to another, and if one group isn’t pure enough they go to another. And yet they spend a long period of their lives doing good work in a cause. In the end what I feel is most problematic about “I’m spiritual but not religious” is: what the hell are you going to tell your children? I’m allergic to the notion that so-called institutional religion—by which people mean organizations such as churches and synagogues—is bad. Institutions are very important and if you think you can get along without them, you’re putting yourself on the wrong line; you can’t.

NS: So your conclusions in Habits of the Heart stand?

RB: If you think about what has happened in American society, or even just today with what is going on with the Tea Party movement, Habits of the Heart was so right on. Radical individualism is even more evident today than when Habits was published twenty-five years ago. It describes the default mode of this deeply misguided society beautifully—horribly, but beautifully.

Bellah’s cautions concerning “radical individualism” are borne out in this article from USA today: “More Americans tailoring religion to fit their needs.”

 

 

In the category of: movie stars’ poor judgment

Mel Gibson is making a movie based on the story of Judah Maccabee, which is the historical background for the Jewish celebration of Chanukah. Given the furor over the portrayal of Jews in The Passion of the Christ and his anti-semitic tirades, what can he be thinking? Let Christopher Hitchens remind us of Gibson’s attitudes.

Allah: A Christian Response

An interview with Miroslav Volf, author of Allah: A Christian Response.

My sense, though, is that today’s exclusions stems from fear and from the need to generate enemies so that we can justify our own need for violence. Clearly, concern about “creeping sharia” in the United States is absurd; chances that sharia will be implemented in the United States are only slightly better than that Martians will invade. And yet people are really exercised by the perceived threat of Muslims “taking over America.” A few exceptions notwithstanding, there is no real enemy to speak of, but people create the enemy. Why? Because they harbor enmity and are plagued by fear and resentment. This is a deeply unchristian stance. We are supposed to love enemies and, if possible, make friends of them; we are not supposed to manufacture enemies so we can have targets for our fears and resentments.

For confirmation of much that Volf says, one only need read the comment thread.

Religious belief on the wane? Implications for the Episcopal Church

Yes, says Mark Chaves:

In “American Religion: Contemporary Trends,” author Mark Chaves argues that over the last generation or so, religious belief in the U.S. has experienced a “softening” that effects everything from whether people go to worship services regularly to whom they marry. Far more people are willing to say they don’t belong to any religious tradition today than in the past, and signs of religious vitality may be camouflaging stagnation or decline.

Bradley Wright says, “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

a decline might be overstating the case, and says polarization is a better description. He recently plotted survey data over the last 25 years recording what Americans say about the importance of religion in their lives. Those who say it’s extremely important have grown slightly, along with those who say it’s not at all important. But the number of people who said it was “somewhat” important dropped from 36 percent to 22 percent in about 20 years.

Mark Harris, who is a member of the Executive Council of the Episcopal Church, has written two posts imagining our Church’s future. They are available here and here. He is writing in response to the financial shortfall anticipated in the coming triennial budget, but I think there are deeper issues at stake. In both of his posts, he imagines something other than the existing diocesan structure. In the first, he wonders how dioceses might band together on certain matters, administrative, programmatic, and even disciplinary (we’re attempting the latter here in Wisconsin). In the second, he advocates for more horizontal networking.

The deeper question is how does our Church re-imagine itself in a post-Christian context. We’ve inherited most of our structures from past generations–the institution building from the nineteenth and twentieth century, the diocesan structure from the early Church (well, actually from the Emperor Diocletian’s administrative restructuring of the Roman Empire in the 4th century), and the question is whether these structures can be adapted to fit a context where commitment to institutions, especially religious ones, is low.

It’s not just about the money, though it is about that. It is about reaching out and meeting people where they are at, being open and welcoming to people whose journeys bring them to us, for a few days, weeks, or years, and offering Christ’s love to people in places, and in ways, unconceived by past generations. The new media revolution allows us to imagine and create new ways of encountering and connecting people, new ways of being Christ’s body in the world, and old structures. old ways of doing things, old ways of thinking may  prevent us from seizing the opportunity.

Church attendance linked to educational level

The news reports last week about a study that found better-educated Americans attending church more regularly than less-educated (and presumably less-affluent people) led to conclusions that instead of reducing religious commitment, higher education enhanced it. That’s the wrong way to read the data.

In the first place, religious involvement is decreasing across the board; it seems to be decreasingly less among the better-educated. There may be all sorts of reasons for this, most notably the increased prevalence of divorce and single-parent families among working and lower-middle class Americans. Family-friendly churches want their families to be traditional–husband, wife, and two children.

Second, there is the problem of how the research was done. It’s not clear from the piece to which I linked above, but I assume questions about attendance at religious services were asked to survey participants. In other words, people were self-reporting their activity. These sorts of studies are notoriously unreliable. The difference between the answers given by different socioeconomic groups might be due, not to actual differences in behavior, but in different attitudes toward what they think they “ought” to be doing. That is to say, it may be the case that better-educated, more affluent Americans still feel pressure to be involved in religious institutions, something other groups no longer sense.

Natural Disasters–Divine Judgment

After the earthquake and then Hurricane Irene, many (including several facebook friends) wondered whether plagues of locusts or frogs were next.

Never fear, writes Stephen Prothero. We Americans rely on science, not the Book of Revelation, for our interpretation of natural disaster:

When it comes to earthquakes and hurricanes, however, our authorities are geologists and meteorologists. Most of us interpret these events not through the rumblings of the biblical prophet Jeremiah or the poetry of the Book of Revelation but through the scientific truths of air pressure and tectonic plates.

Well, some of us do. And then there’s Michele Bachmann. Her campaign says she was just joking.

A sermon from Mark Harris on the hurricane.