Deadend

This <a href="http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/0,,248-2001602822,00.html" target="_blank">column</a> by Matthew Parris was published in the Times newspaper yesterday.

What are we doing, in God's name?
BY MATTHEW PARRIS

Has God had a good war this year? Has the new century started well for religious belief? As the last closed, politicians were talking about what they called the “faith community”; after September 2001, how is that community doing? How high, at the end of this strange and shocking chapter, is deism’s stock? The smoke has cleared in New York. Western man has witnessed a mad tragedy actuated by faith. But it is not clear whether for most people this only underlines the need for a true God — to save us from the false ones — or whether gods, all gods, were the problem, not the solution.

Never mind me: I am a convinced unbeliever. But what do my countrymen think? I listened to two old men, I would guess from lower middle-class backgrounds, talking on the train to Derby last month. Their discussion was typical of many I have overheard. They were discussing the day’s news: more violence in the Middle East.

“Them Israelis ...” began the one.

“Zionists,” added the other, by way of elaboration.

“Zionists, as you say. They’re just stirring it up, like, when they should be cooling it down.”

“Fanatics.”

“Exactly. Their religion, innit? God’s chosen people, they think. Can’t see no argument other than their own. Mind you, them Palestinians, they’re not much better. That man — you know ... the one with a tea-towel ...”

“Arafat.”

“Yes, him. No better, is ’e? Thinks Allah’s on the Arabs’ side. Won’t bend. Little children throwing stones in the name of religion — I ask you.”

“Fierce people those Muslims — from birth. Stop at nothing.”

“Fanatics. Look at that Osmara — Osama — whatever — Ben Laden. Thinks there’s virgins waiting for ’im in Paradise. ’Ow many? 72 was it? Or 77? Bloody ridiculous.”

“Cause of all these wars and terrorism and things. Christians too, just as bad, some of ’em. Look at Ireland. Grown men chucking rocks at little girls walking to their school ... sane men and women, or so they’d have you believe, claiming it’s God’s will ...”

“Y’know, Mick, I think religion’s at the bottom of all this. Don’t do no good at all.”

Or that was the drift. The sentiments are not new — they come muttering through history — but the confidence with which they are being expressed is fresh, voiced widely by morally conservative people from whom you would not expect it. Winter 2001 is not a time to express visionary religious views at dinner parties. Religion took a knock of sorts, in 2001.

I do mean religion — all religion: the generic term.

Critics might excuse the local vicar and his congregation of six kindly old ladies, but otherwise tend to lump together the Church Militant, Islam of every sort, Jews in hats on the Sabbath, Hindus with their caste system, Mormons and Adventists, people with tambourines, Roman Catholics and their views on contraception.

This is of course unfair. Hardly had the dust from the World Trade Centre settled before every responsible leader, from Tony Blair down, was making the point that this was “not about Islam”. We were all but told to believe it was not about religion at all. We were to understand (variously) that this was about fundamentalist as opposed to mainstream Islam; that this was not even about fundamentalist, but about about madcap Islam; that this was nothing whatsoever to do with Islam but the work of pure evil which had “hijacked” a religious argument; or that this was not about Islam properly interpreted, but that unfortunately some Muslims had misunderstood — and it would be helpful if mainstream Islam would condemn a little louder, and so on.

Very similar arguments are made by moderate Jews and Christians about the Likud Party and their policies in Israel: that Ariel Sharon’s beliefs and the militancy of the West Bank settlers are not inspired by Judaism properly understood; that they are not inspired by the Judaism most Jews follow; or that they are not inspired by Judaism at all.

And so it is with the Christians: sectarian hatred in Ireland (we are variously told) is based on warped versions of Christianity; based on authentic but extreme versions of Christianity; or not based on Christianity at all.

Fair as some of these arguments may be, they spit into the wind of popular understanding. The word which public imagination selects to describe the relationship between a faith which brutalises, and a faith of the same name which does not, is “extreme”. In the public mind, mainstream religions may exhibit “extreme” (or “fanatical&#8221 versions engendering fierce belief; and “moderate” versions engendering less passionate belief, whose practitioners are therefore prepared to act reasonably. In other words, “extreme” religion is a strong version of the weaker mainstream variety. Reasonableness in religion comes from a lack of total commitment.

The logic here makes some unfair jumps. We all know good people whose faith is theologically mild, yet fiercely held. Even in the theological middle it is possible to be passionate and devout.

But that is not the rule. Faith as observed in practice usually supports the popular simplification: the more consuming is a person’s religious commitment, the more likely he is to hold views we think “extreme”. Tony Blair and the Archbishop of Canterbury may insist all they like that “fundamentalist” versions of faiths do not “besmirch” the mainstream version; the public will see it differently. We will see fundamentalism as the full monty, the mainstream as Religion-Lite. History suggests the same: the world’s great faiths have tended to be reformed and reinvigorated by sects driven by a zeal to return to basics. You therefore cannot just dismiss fundamentalists as irrelevant weirdos: their beliefs will often be telling you about something hard at the core of the softer, mainstream versions of the religion.

That, at least, is what (I believe) most people suspect. In the public mind in Britain, Islamic fundamentalism — and to a lesser extent sectarianism in Ireland and the Religious Right in Israel — have done much damage to the reputation of three of Britain’s major faiths.

If you doubt it, look at recent parliamentary and public reaction to the Cabinet’s plan for the proliferation of “faith schools”. I simply observe that national disquiet at the whole idea has taken the Government by surprise. In the Commons the Education Secretary, Estelle Morris, has looked quite winded at the attacks from behind her and across the floor.

There has been a strong anti-clerical streak beneath this anger. The same streak is discernible in opposition to the Government’s plans to protect religion from those who would incite hatred against it — plans the Home Secretary has been forced to drop. Read the debates: Voltaire would have been proud of the scorn expressed.

I believe there is something quite new in this anti-clericalism among the political class, or at least in its confidence. Agnosticism (for that is what it is) used mostly to be expressed rather apologetically in Parliament, or left unexpressed. A few years ago you would not, by two small measures calculated to protect and foster faith, have roused anything like such indignation.

Yet I hinted at the start that my question — How is religion faring? — was not easy to answer. Nor is it. I write this from America. Here, clear and uncontestable published evidence points to a revival of public interest in religion since September 11, especially in the more evangelical versions of Christianity.

Stronger commitments from some, then, and stronger antipathy from others. Could things be coming to a head? Could we be seeing a polarisation of public attitudes to faith? For more than a century now the dominant attitude in the Western world has been an apathy which I would describe as covert agnosticism masquerading as weak observance. Is Osama bin Laden flushing this agnosticism out? If so, we may see an increase both in the religious enthusiasm of the minority, and the avowed scepticism of the majority. When it comes to the relationship between modern man and religious faith, the century now beginning may prove make-up-your-mind time. I hope so.


Edited to disable smilies, and to apologise for posting it in the wrong forum, I intended to post it in Miscellaneous Religion Discussions, but obviously didn’t.

[ December 30, 2001: Message edited by: Deadend ]</p>

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missus_gumby

It should be very interesting to see the letters column next week! One can almost hear the clerical quills scratching away at great speed.

I never knew Matthew Parris was a "convinced unbeliever". When seen on TV and heard on the radio he always seems to have a most rational argument - whatever his chosen subject.

Martin

critical thinking made ez

A well written piece, but here is the problem with religious John Q Public who reads it... he will say "He has a good point but it doesn't apply to my religion, I belong to the one true church. Now where is the Funny-Page Section?"

<img src="graemlins/banghead.gif" border="0" alt="[Bang Head]" />

missus_gumby

...and in reply, today's Times has published <a href="http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/0,,59-2002000286,00.html" target="_blank">this</a>, by the Bishop of Lincoln. What a maroon! And there was me thinking the church hirearchy in England were men of learning. Such a poor, easily refuted argument deserves ridicule, I'll keep my eyes peeled on the Times letters page.

Martin

Pandora

Can anyone explain, what exactly is going on with the C of E these days? It used to be full of rather well educated, soft spoken vicars and congregations who read the words but didn’t look at the meaning, and it was all very pretty and unstressful (or it seemed that way to me).

I popped along to Midnight Mass this year for a good sing song with my equally heathen brother and came home appalled: The Vicar announced that God had asked him personally to speak on God’s behalf, the congregation kept shouting Hallelujah, Praise Be and waving their arms in the air, and the sermon was packed full of inaccuracies and outright lies.

It appears that the C of E is full of the evangelical happy clappy, “wave hello to God” brigade. Is this a general trend or just in the South East?

Amos

C of E in the South East of Italy?

The charismatic movement is like a wild-fire and always was the enemy of the Church. It represents the "many are called into the promised land" where they will die nonetheless.

Pandora

C of E in the South East of Italy?


Sorry Amos, I’d better explain – I live in Italy, but I’v e just got back from a trip to the UK. There are a few anglican churches out here in the major cities, but I’ve never been to one so I don’t know what they’re like.

Amos

Thanks. Yes I would expect there to be some C of E in Italy but not likely charismatic. I know the movement well actually and probable much better than most here realize. That is, I understand it very well (they all dodge me here).

[ January 03, 2002: Message edited by: Amos ]</p>