Why religion went obsolete - Part 5
Christian Smith argues that traditional religion in America is suffering from “cultural mismatch,” a discordant relationship with general culture that is pushing it into a state of unplanned obsolescence.
In other words, there was a time in western society when traditional religion and general culture fit hand-in-glove; people sensed the need for traditional religion to support their way of life.
That is no longer the case. People aren’t anti-religious as much as they simply don’t see the point anymore. People aren’t anti-typewriter. They just don’t use them anymore because in world of personal supercomputers, other than nostalgia, what’s the point?
But if general culture no longer supports traditional religion so that the latter is perceived by most to be unnecessary, what are some of the features of contemporary culture that are so hazardous to traditional religion?
Smith leverages the German word “zeitgeist” to answer this question. Zeitgeist means something like “spirit of an age.” Think, for instance, of the “roaring twenties.” Certainly not every moment during that decade was a party, but when thinkers look back on it, especially in contrast to previous and later periods, they can see that it was mostly an age characterized by a carefree, optimistic spirit.
Every period of time has a zeitgeist.
Smith refers to the present age as the “millennial zeitgeist.” The reader should not mistake that term to mean “those damn millennials,” as some Boomers and Gen Xers are fond of thinking. For starters, Smith argues that what he calls the millennial zeitgeist began developing during previous generations, it merely hit a tipping point in the decades that flanked the turn of the century when the oldest millennials would have been teenagers. As with most things, millennials merely took what they learned from their parents and grandparents to new, though logically consistent, extremes.
While Smith is wise to point out (especially for people like me whose formative years came during this period) that the mood shifted as American society moved from the 1990’s to 2000’s—the 1990’s feeling generally unbonded and optimistic while the 2000’s felt generally gloomy—the “spirit of the age” was consistent.
And many of the “countours” of the millennial zeitgeist focus on culture’s view of the individual. Here are few examples:
Each individual possesses a distinctive, essential selfhood that they need to discover, cultivate, realize, and express.[1]
Neglecting one’s unique selfhood is irresponsible.[2]
Distinctive selves should be expected to change over time.[3]
Growing up means “becoming one’s own” person.[4]
Authentic selves are continually at risk of being denied, twisted, or repressed by both external forces of organized conformism, including parents, school, religion, workplace, peers, and media, as well as internal forces of insecurity, doubt, fear, self-judging, emotional dysfunction, and laziness.[5]
To discover one’s “true self,” individuals must rely on their own subjective intuitive responses to their own experiences.[6]
These empirical insights confirm Carl Trueman’s observations in his book The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self, which I’ve written about elsewhere on this blog (you can access post 1 of that series here). Trueman argues that what has made it possible for someone to say something like, “I am really a man trapped in a women’s body” is nothing short of an evolution in our understanding of what constitutes a “self.”
Smith is describing that evolution. The millennial zeitgeist includes a version of selfhood that is largely incompatible with traditional religion. It assumes that every person is an individual on an entirely customizable self-actualization project. Each person gets to decide for him or herself who or what he/she wants to be. Experience, then, is the realm of factors and influences that may or may not “work” in helping the individual self-actualize in whatever subjective way they’ve chosen.
This means that syncretism will be normal. Syncretism means “to borrow.” For instance, it is highly common in today’s culture to see Christians more knowledgeable about and engaged in mindfulness than prayer or for atheists to be all about Buddhist meditation.
Whatever “works.”
It also means that novel tends to be more capturing than historical and traditional. The average person is far more likely to engage in mindfulness than prayer because prayer seems antiquated where mindfulness is perceived as new and fresh, perhaps even empirically “proven.”
And lastly it means that life is lived almost entirely in that Charles Taylor calls the “immanent frame.” Life is about here and now. When we talk about what “works” we’re almost always talking about what addresses a problem in our lived experience. Does this make my current life better?
This view of the self is largely incompatible with traditional religion. Traditional religion certainly believes that every person is an individual soul with inherent dignity and worth, but that’s about where the overlap ends. Yes, traditional religion would describe our lives in the present age as a journey but not toward some subjective vision of self-actualization. We do not decide who or what we are. We are made the image of God and self-actualization is participation in the life of God.
Which means that what “works” is not self-determined. If I get to decide for myself who or what I’m going to be then I also get to determine if something is working toward that end or not. But if who or what I am supposed to be is determined for me, a created reality that I am called to live into, what “works” in terms of helping me toward that received future will likewise be received, from sources like tradition, revelation, and others.
General culture imagines each individual as a self-contained automaton. Traditional religion says you are interdependent; you only become yourself through others.
It’s not hard to see why traditional religion feels entirely foreign to so many. Social institutions like churches tend to be viewed as inherently oppressive; places that will threaten your self-made authenticity rather than as places that will help you become who you were meant to be.
When you weren’t meant to be anyone, no one can help you but you.
Jean Twenge in her book Generations would agree with Smith’s analysis. Hyper-individualism is one of the factors she sights pushing younger generations into mental health crisis. In his position paper, “My Parting Prescription for America,” former US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy says something similar, calling younger generations to re-prioritize deep, robust networks of interdependent relationships versus rugged individualism and isolation.
But while this new, uncritically accepted view of the self is incompatible with traditional religion, making traditional religion seem unnecessary at the moment, perhaps what’s old will be one day be new again. Smith notes that people are not moving from traditional religion to secularity. There aren’t just two options. On the contrary, what we’re seeing is the budding of all manner of different “spiritualities.”
People are still interested in issues of “ultimate concern.”[7] We still feel the ache that traditional religion used to address.
Traditional religion can begin with the reality of that ache and make the case for why it has the healing balm. People today expect institutions like the church to have to prove themselves, to have to make their case. So, let’s make it.
[1] P 298
[2] P 299
[3] P 299
[4] P 301
[5] P 300
[6] P 302
[7] A phrase used by psychologist James Fowler to name the focus of religion.
In other words, there was a time in western society when traditional religion and general culture fit hand-in-glove; people sensed the need for traditional religion to support their way of life.
That is no longer the case. People aren’t anti-religious as much as they simply don’t see the point anymore. People aren’t anti-typewriter. They just don’t use them anymore because in world of personal supercomputers, other than nostalgia, what’s the point?
But if general culture no longer supports traditional religion so that the latter is perceived by most to be unnecessary, what are some of the features of contemporary culture that are so hazardous to traditional religion?
Smith leverages the German word “zeitgeist” to answer this question. Zeitgeist means something like “spirit of an age.” Think, for instance, of the “roaring twenties.” Certainly not every moment during that decade was a party, but when thinkers look back on it, especially in contrast to previous and later periods, they can see that it was mostly an age characterized by a carefree, optimistic spirit.
Every period of time has a zeitgeist.
Smith refers to the present age as the “millennial zeitgeist.” The reader should not mistake that term to mean “those damn millennials,” as some Boomers and Gen Xers are fond of thinking. For starters, Smith argues that what he calls the millennial zeitgeist began developing during previous generations, it merely hit a tipping point in the decades that flanked the turn of the century when the oldest millennials would have been teenagers. As with most things, millennials merely took what they learned from their parents and grandparents to new, though logically consistent, extremes.
While Smith is wise to point out (especially for people like me whose formative years came during this period) that the mood shifted as American society moved from the 1990’s to 2000’s—the 1990’s feeling generally unbonded and optimistic while the 2000’s felt generally gloomy—the “spirit of the age” was consistent.
And many of the “countours” of the millennial zeitgeist focus on culture’s view of the individual. Here are few examples:
Each individual possesses a distinctive, essential selfhood that they need to discover, cultivate, realize, and express.[1]
Neglecting one’s unique selfhood is irresponsible.[2]
Distinctive selves should be expected to change over time.[3]
Growing up means “becoming one’s own” person.[4]
Authentic selves are continually at risk of being denied, twisted, or repressed by both external forces of organized conformism, including parents, school, religion, workplace, peers, and media, as well as internal forces of insecurity, doubt, fear, self-judging, emotional dysfunction, and laziness.[5]
To discover one’s “true self,” individuals must rely on their own subjective intuitive responses to their own experiences.[6]
These empirical insights confirm Carl Trueman’s observations in his book The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self, which I’ve written about elsewhere on this blog (you can access post 1 of that series here). Trueman argues that what has made it possible for someone to say something like, “I am really a man trapped in a women’s body” is nothing short of an evolution in our understanding of what constitutes a “self.”
Smith is describing that evolution. The millennial zeitgeist includes a version of selfhood that is largely incompatible with traditional religion. It assumes that every person is an individual on an entirely customizable self-actualization project. Each person gets to decide for him or herself who or what he/she wants to be. Experience, then, is the realm of factors and influences that may or may not “work” in helping the individual self-actualize in whatever subjective way they’ve chosen.
This means that syncretism will be normal. Syncretism means “to borrow.” For instance, it is highly common in today’s culture to see Christians more knowledgeable about and engaged in mindfulness than prayer or for atheists to be all about Buddhist meditation.
Whatever “works.”
It also means that novel tends to be more capturing than historical and traditional. The average person is far more likely to engage in mindfulness than prayer because prayer seems antiquated where mindfulness is perceived as new and fresh, perhaps even empirically “proven.”
And lastly it means that life is lived almost entirely in that Charles Taylor calls the “immanent frame.” Life is about here and now. When we talk about what “works” we’re almost always talking about what addresses a problem in our lived experience. Does this make my current life better?
This view of the self is largely incompatible with traditional religion. Traditional religion certainly believes that every person is an individual soul with inherent dignity and worth, but that’s about where the overlap ends. Yes, traditional religion would describe our lives in the present age as a journey but not toward some subjective vision of self-actualization. We do not decide who or what we are. We are made the image of God and self-actualization is participation in the life of God.
Which means that what “works” is not self-determined. If I get to decide for myself who or what I’m going to be then I also get to determine if something is working toward that end or not. But if who or what I am supposed to be is determined for me, a created reality that I am called to live into, what “works” in terms of helping me toward that received future will likewise be received, from sources like tradition, revelation, and others.
General culture imagines each individual as a self-contained automaton. Traditional religion says you are interdependent; you only become yourself through others.
It’s not hard to see why traditional religion feels entirely foreign to so many. Social institutions like churches tend to be viewed as inherently oppressive; places that will threaten your self-made authenticity rather than as places that will help you become who you were meant to be.
When you weren’t meant to be anyone, no one can help you but you.
Jean Twenge in her book Generations would agree with Smith’s analysis. Hyper-individualism is one of the factors she sights pushing younger generations into mental health crisis. In his position paper, “My Parting Prescription for America,” former US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy says something similar, calling younger generations to re-prioritize deep, robust networks of interdependent relationships versus rugged individualism and isolation.
But while this new, uncritically accepted view of the self is incompatible with traditional religion, making traditional religion seem unnecessary at the moment, perhaps what’s old will be one day be new again. Smith notes that people are not moving from traditional religion to secularity. There aren’t just two options. On the contrary, what we’re seeing is the budding of all manner of different “spiritualities.”
People are still interested in issues of “ultimate concern.”[7] We still feel the ache that traditional religion used to address.
Traditional religion can begin with the reality of that ache and make the case for why it has the healing balm. People today expect institutions like the church to have to prove themselves, to have to make their case. So, let’s make it.
[1] P 298
[2] P 299
[3] P 299
[4] P 301
[5] P 300
[6] P 302
[7] A phrase used by psychologist James Fowler to name the focus of religion.
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