Religiosity and Levels of Tolerance

Earlier I noted that the authors of American Grace, Robert Putnam and David Campbell, had suggested that religious people are more generous and more likely to volunteer, not just for religious causes, but secular ones as well.   That's the good news, religious people tend to be more neighborly, but on darker side of things, they tend to be more intolerant of dissent and the civil liberties of others than are their secular neighbors.  The possible reason for this is that religious people tend to be more concerned about obedience than seculars, who are more likely to embrace self-reliance (which may explain why they are less engaged civically).  They suggest that "one reason that religious people are readier to suppress dissent seems to be that they are particularly concerned to safeguard authority" (American Grace, p. 489).   

But, that said, even the most religious Americans have become more tolerant of dissent than they were forty years ago -- despite all the recent intolerant rhetoric we've been hearing.   Still, the more you go to church, the more intolerant you seem to be. 

The authors write:

Something about American history over the last century led younger religious cohorts to adopt a "live and let live" attitude to cultural differences.  So the dark side of religion's civic impact has become slightly less dark in recent decades, but the shadow remains.  A substantial gap persists between religious American and secular Americans in their support for civil liberties, even among the youngest cohort.  (p. 487). 

 

As noted before, the reason for this is greater respect for authority, which is one of the reasons why I continue to say that if we're going to deal with social questions like homosexuality, we have to wrestle with those authorities that guide religious life.   

That said, we in the church need to be aware that one central reasons why younger adults are leaving the church or reject religion is that they perceive it to be intolerant, especially of especially of gays and lesbians.  So, the question then is this:  how do we remain true to our faith traditions and not be intolerant?  Or maybe the better question is this -- is at least  a degree of intolerance of other ideas and beliefs inherent in religion?  I'm not sure that it is, but it would appear that even the most broadminded of religious people express a degree of intolerance of certain ideas and practices.  So, what shall we do? 

Good Neighborliness: Religiosity and Generosity

As I mosey my way back and forth through American Grace, my book of the year, I want to go back to an important chapter entitled "Religion and Good Neighborliness."  In this chapter the authors, using data from several sources, demonstrates that in terms of volunteering time and giving of money, religious people stand far above seculars in their generosity.  Now, you might say, well, they do give to their churches, but that's not all.  A majority of regular church goers also make up the bulk of volunteers at schools and service organizations, and more.  Consider this:

Of all people who volunteered for a religious group, 91 percent also volunteered for at least one secular group, whereas of those who did not volunteer for a religious group, 69 percent did not volunteer for any secular group either.  Those of us who volunteer for religious groups are two or three times as likely to volunteer for secular groups as well, compared to those of us who don't volunteer for religious groups.  Americans, it seems, mostly choose between volunteering and not volunteering, not between religious and secular volunteering.  (American Grace, p. 445).

And the same goes for giving of money -- if you give to religious groups you're more likely to give to "secular" ones as well. 

The authors note that in essence "religious Americans are more civically active."  They're more likely to join community organizations, engage in community problem solving, participate in civic and political life, and press for social and political reform.

Oh, and if you think that it's just the Religious Right that's active in the public arena, the surveys say quite the opposite.  The authors write:

Indeed, for many measures of civic engagement, such as club membership, organizational leadership, and (as we have seen) local reform activity, religiosity matters more for the self-described liberals than for self-described conservatives.  That is, the difference in activism between a religious liberal and a secular liberal is even greater than the comparable difference between a religious conservative and a secular conservative." (American Grace, pp. 456-457). 

In this regard, the authors are able to put to rest the claim that conservative Americans are more generous than liberals (Arthur Brooks).  While it is true that religious folks tend to be more generous and conservatives are more religious than liberals, the key is not conservatism but religiosity.  That is, its the faith and not the politics/economic theory that leads to generosity.  Again, just to be clear on this, the authors write that with all things being kept constant (size/numbers, etc), "liberals are never less generous than conservatives, and are, by some measures, better neighbors than conservatives" (p. 458).  Yes, read closely:

Liberals, for example, work more often on community projects, cooperate more to solve community problems, and volunteer more often to help the sick, the needy, and neighborhood and civic groups, whereas on none of our measures of generosity and civic engagement are conservatives more active.  Holding religiosity constant, ideology has little significant effect on total giving or total volunteering, nor on any of the fifteen good deeds discussed earlier, but liberals assuredly give and volunteer more for nonreligious causes than conservatives do.  According to the best available evidence, the "civic good guys" are more often religious liberals, not religious conservatives. (American Grace, p. 458).

 So, who do you want for a neighbor? 

 

Who is Going to Heaven? Enquiring Minds Want to Know!

Before anyone decides to register a complaint about the phrasing of the question, suggesting that heaven is metaphor and not fact -- let me just say that for this exercise we're going to err on the side of tradition!  So, then, the question is, according to the studies, who is going to heaven?  Is it just members of the one true religion (whatever that might be) or is everyone going to make it?  Remember that in my last posting I noted that the American people, by and large are faithful, but not fanatical!  Ours is a moderate faith.

The context here is understandings developed within a context of religious diversity.  And the answer to the question -- who gets in?  Well, according to the Faith Matters Survey undertaken by Robert Putnam and David Campbell, 89% of Americans say that people outside one's own faith will get to heaven.  They write:

Their hesitation to adopt a "members only" perspective on who goes to heaven illuminates their positive attitude toward religious diversity.  It is not just that they have adopted Jefferson's minimal standard of avoiding picked pockets and broken legs.  Rather they endorse the legitimacy of others' religious beliefs.  Large majorities of even stricter religious traditions believe in an equal opportunity heaven.  Eighty-three percent of evangelicals, for example, say that other religions can bring salvation; eighty-seven percent of Black Protestants believe so.  (American Grace, p. 535).

Indeed, their studies show that the group with the highest percentage of people saying that a good person not of your faith will get to heaven are Mormon at 98%, with Mainline Protestants coming in second at 96%. 

What is even more interesting is that they're not getting this openness from their clergy.  Indeed, whereas laity by and large have an open view of heaven, even mainline Protestant Clergy take a predominantly exclusivist view.  Consider that 63% of Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (ELCA) clergy say that salvation is through Jesus alone, while 59% of United Methodist and 57% of PCUSA clergy agree.  Now, it's possible that these mainliners have a more nuanced view -- that salvation come through Jesus, but one need not confess Jesus in this life to be welcomed into the presence of God.  This view is often called inclusivist rather than universalist.  I myself would sort of fit into this camp.  But what is clear is that one's view of salvation for those outside one's religion is being determined not by one's clergy, but by one's context living in a pluralist society. 

So, what should we do?  Should we work harder to teach people the "truth"?  Or do we admit that maybe the pluralists have a point?  The fact that even Missouri Synod Lutheran Clergy, one of the most conservative Christian denominations, can't convince their people is telling. 

Faith without Fanticism -- America's Creed

As I continue to blog my way through American Grace, the book I named Book of the Year for 2010, I thought it worth noting this observation about the American people and their religious perspectives. 

Robert Putnam and David Campbell enlighten us about the realities of American religious life.  We may be more "religious" than most other Western nations, but our religious preferences can be well described with a phrase traditionally reserved for Episcopalians -- "In all things moderation."  We're spiritual, even religious, but we're not fanatics.  There is a small core of what the authors call "True Believers," but they make up only 10% of the population.  This is a group that, according to the authors, that "live in religiously monochromatic social environments."  That is, they tend not to marry outside their religious group and are much more insistent that their children remain true to the true faith.  Perhaps more importantly, they have fewer social/kinship ties to people outside their faith community (American Grace, pp. 546-547).  

Here is a kicker that needs to be considered, and I'll be coming back to this point later, is that while 52% of "True Believers" are Evangelicals -- that is, they believe that their faith alone is the true faith -- 75% of Evangelicals cannot be categorized as "True Believers."  And the reason for this?  Well, the message that comes through time and again is that our pluralistic context means that we are simply not able to write off what the authors call our "Aunt Susan's," the members of our kinship circle who are outside our faith tradition.  But, even more common than having someone of another faith in our kinship circle, is our wider friendship circile.  The authors note:

Most Americans have at least one close friend of another religion, and many have multiple friends of other faiths.  Even over a short period of time, we have seen that a small increase in such religious bridging corresponds to warmer feelings toward at least two relatively unpopular religious groups (Mormons and non-religious).  Furthermore, we have seen that a religious bridging can expand American's sense of who is fully a member of the national community. (p. 548).

There is a lot of "exclusivist" yelling going on in our socieity today, but it would appear that these voices represent a very small percentage of the American population.  Of course, as I'll show later, clergy are much less likely than laity, to believe this way!

Understanding the God Gap

The census report is out and from what I've heard a number of "blue states" will lose

Congressional representation, while a number of "red states" will gain representatives.  This, according to the pundits bodes ill for Barack Obama's reelection chances.  I really can't comment on the latter, the next election is two years away, so who knows how this all will work out.  But I'd like to think about some of the assumptions, like the idea that the God Gap we currently see in our political landscape will have long lasting governing implications.

I'm reading American Grace by Robert Putnam and David Campbell, and have been reporting from my experiences reading this tremendously important book.  I've reached the section of the book that looks at the relationship of religion to American Politics.  One of the interesting points that the authors make is that prior to 1980 there really wasn't much of a God Gap between the two parties.  Things changed around 1980 with the election of Ronald Reagan and the decision of the two political parties to place in their platforms planks both pro and con abortion.  The authors write:

Remember, though, that a political issue can only divide the electorate when voters are presented with a choice on that particular issue.  In the case of abortion, the Democratic and Republican parties did not diverge sharply on the issue until the 1980s.  In 1976, the Republican platform was more or less neutral on abortion.  By 1980 it unequivocally endorsed a constitutional amendment to ban abortion, language that has been preserved ever since.  Meanwhile, as described by political scientist Christina Wolbrecht, 1980 was "the first time the Democratic party firmly established itself as pro-choice and expressed its opposition to the curtailment of federal funding for abortions."  Beginning in the 1980s, voters had a choice on abortion.  The battle lines had been drawn. (American Grace, p. 391). 

  

From then on the GOP became the party of "moral traditionalism," and at least for religiously observant whites, it became the "God party."  The authors of this book note that Blacks, who are the most religiously observant group within American society, are the exception to this rule -- with few blacks voting GOP!  Although many Blacks share the GOP view on abortion and gay marriage, their list of social issues is much broader and thus they do not find themselves able to make common cause on these issues.  

So, what does that portend for the future?  Does it mean that you can't be religious and a Democrat?  I hope that's not true, but those who take a more secular view are more likely to be Democrat than Republican.  

And then the question is -- what is the electoral impact of this Gap?  Here is where the future is uncertain -- with a growing number of voters declaring themselves Independents -- religion apparently plays little role in their views.  So, with this growing swing group making itself felt, maybe religion will fade into the background in the near future?  Only time will tell, but I think this is a conversation worth having for both the sake of the church and the state!

Wooing the "Nones"

As we noted in a previous post there is an increasing number of people, especially young adults, who the authors of American Grace term "Nones."  They are "Nones" because they choose not to identify with any particular religious tradition.  We've noted that many have been turned off by what they perceive are the "political overtones" of religion -- especially conservative politics.   So, is it possible that these disaffected younger adults might be enticed to come into the church?  Well, the authors say it's possible -- because they aren't by nature "ardent secularists."  They write that "a large portion of those who demur from indicating a formal religious affiliation believe religion is important, pray regularly, and even attend a congregation on occasion" (American Grace, p. 176).  They are, what sociologists Michael Hout and Claude Fischer call "unchurched believers."  They are, thus to quote the Putnam and Campbell, "an inviting target for "religious entrepreneurs."  

The term religious entrepreneurs might sound a bit off putting, but their point is well-taken.  It will take people who are willing to take risks and try new things to reach this group of disaffected people.  And what would this look like?  Well, if its partisan politics or a merging of religion and politics, especially relating to sex and family issues that can be seen in the evangelical/GOP alliance, that pushes them away, then it would be helpful to  deemphasize these kinds of issues in favor of others.  That might be a harbinger of good things for mainline churches that aren't as linked to such emphases.

Of course there is the possibility that something more geared toward them, such as the emerging church or emergent church movements might be more successful.  The reality, as the authors see it, innovation is at the heart of the effort.  I would add that from watching the young adults I'm in conversation with, there is a strong desire to be doing something, not just watching something be done.  They're not interested in committees, but they do want to make a difference. 

Can this be done?  Yes, I believe it can.  That is the possibility raised in a more detached way in American Grace and in a more direct way by Carol Howard Merritt in her book Reframing Hope (Alban, 2010).

Social/Moral Views of the "Nones"

In my series of reflections on the evolution of American religious identity from the 1950s to the present, which draw upon the Putnam/Campbell book American Grace I have noted that we've seen the nation's religiosity swing back and forth, from highly religious, to not so religious and then a return back to conservative religious values.  That last more conservative era of young adults began to end early in the 1990s.  Since then we've seen the pendulum swing the other way, and it is seen expressed most clearly in the movement away from "organized religion."  

The question that lies before us is why this is happening, or more specifically -- what markers are there that suggest a trend.  Robert Putnam and David Campbell point to attitudes among the rising generation toward homosexuality and marijuana.  And, not surprising those who take a more liberal view of these two issues tend to predominate among "Nones."  That is, as the authors note:  "liberal views on sexual morality contributed to their disaffection from religion" (p. 130).  This likely isn't news to many.  In fact, while I don't care for the Kinnaman/Lyon's book UnChristian, they also demonstrate that those most disaffected by organized forms of religion find the church's views on homosexuality distasteful.    

Consider what Putnam and Campbell write:

We make no strong claims about causation here, and we do not believe that it was simply differences over public policy that weakened the ties of this generation to organized religion.  Rather, we suggest, the dramatic contrast between a young generation increasingly liberal on certain moral and lifestyle issues (though still potentially open to religious feelings and ideals) and an older generation of religious leaders who seemed consumed by the political fight against gay marriage was one important source of the second aftershock. (p. 130).

This change of attitude has led to increased unease about mixing religion and politics -- and thus engaging in culture wars.  By continuing to fight these battles the church seems likely to continue pushing younger folks away.

Do give a little context from the news to bolster this change of attitude, I'd point to the debate over abolishing "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" in the military.  According to the Pentagon Report, about 70% of rank and file military have no problem or are neutral regarding the presence of gays serving openly in the military.  Where the problem seems to lie, is among older officers and the large contingent of evangelical chaplains (and certain members of Congress). 

Whether older generations or culture warriors like it or not the times, they are a changin'."  The question is -- how will the church respond?  And if it seeks to keep gays and lesbians at bay, push the upcoming generations further away from the church?

America's Religious Identity -- Boom, Shocks, and After-shocks (Part 4 -- Second Aftershock)

If you can remember back that far, the 1950s and early 1960s were the hey day of institutional religion.  I was, as I've noted, born at the end of the 1950s, grew up in the 60s and 70s and came of age in the early 70s.  I was born into a mainline church, but left it for a more "charismatic" and conservative religious orientation in the mid to late 70s.  Over time I grew disenchanted with my charismatic context, in large part due to the anti-intellectualism that I found there.  I will add, that I also found a lot of hypocrisy in that group as well.  We were very competent in covering our ways in spiritual language.  But, I didn't go "liberal" overnight.  I went to a premier evangelical seminary, though in evangelical circles Fuller is considered liberal, and while I continue to value my education at Fuller, I continued to chaff under the evangelical sub-culture that seemed unable to wrestle in meaningful ways with the intellectual challenges of the age.  That's my story, but there is another story of a more dramatic aftershock to the conservative aftershock of the 1970s and 1980s.

Robert Putnam and David Campbell, writing in their book American Grace, suggest that when we look at demographics, we need to keep in mind that the overall numbers change slowly as one generation gives way to another.  Consider that yesterday we observed Pearl Harbor Day.  World War II began for Americans on December 7, 1941.  That was 69 years ago.  Even the youngest survivors of that day are in their late 80s.   The Greatest Generation, the generation that birthed the Baby Boom and that fueled the religious surge in the 1950s and 1960s is dying off and soon their presence will no longer be felt.  This generation, along with the one that came of age right after WW II, the folks that fought in Korea and have not made as much of a dent in the public mind as either the Greatest Generation or the Baby Boomers, they're aging as well.  Both of these generations are relatively conservative.  As they pass away, the younger generations will begin to make themselves felt. 

Well, if the later Baby Boomers (sometimes called the Jones Generation) and the GenXers were more conservative, leading to the first aftershock, there is a new generation coming of age, and they are both more liberal and increasingly disaffected from institutional forms of religion.  I know one of these people quite well --he's my son!  

One of the key changes in this new generation is the growing presence of what have come to be known as the "None's."  They're a bit like the growing numbers of Americans who choose as their political party affiliation -- Decline to State.  Putnam and Campbell note that in the pre-boomer years maybe 5-7% of the population would have claimed no religious affiliation ("nones").  That doubled among boomers (10-15%), and that has doubled again to 20-30% among those who have come of age in the past two decades.   The authors note that there is no evidence to show that as these younger generations age they're becoming more attached to institutional religion.  Here is the kicker:

Since 2000 generational succession has meant that cohorts of whom barely 5 percent say they have no religious affiliation are being replaced by cohorts of whom roughly 25 percent say they have no religion, massively increasing the nationwide incidence of nones.  (American Grace, p. 123).

It's not that they don't believe in God or seek some kind of spiritual sustenance, as the authors note there are few atheists or agnostics in this bunch.  The New Atheists are making a big splash, but they're really not making many converts!  Many of this new cohorts of "Nones" emerge from homes that were not religious to begin with -- that is children of Boomers who never got introduced to the church or synagogue, but they are also increasingly present among children of the devout, even among the evangelicals.  

And, note this:

The new nones are heavily drawn from the center and left of the political spectrum.  Hout and Fischer have shown that the rise of the new nones closely corresponds (with a lag of about half a decade) to the visibility of the Religious Right in the public media, suggesting that the rise of the nones might be some sort of backlash against religious conservativism.  Our Faith Matters surveys confirm that few of the new nones come from the right half of the political spectrum. (American Grace, p. 127).

Although there are more progressive alternatives to conservative forms of religion, it would appear that the younger cohort isn't paying much attention to these alternatives.  Institutional forms of religion seem to them to be inherently politicized, and they'll get their politics elsewhere.

So, what does this bode for the church?   Although evangelicalism continues to have some presence, the trends don't look good for them either.  Evangelicals could be in much the same place that Mainliners were four decades ago.  And the movements that are tapping into all of this change are what have been called Emergent or Emerging churches.  

I think that the past two election cycles are good examples of this.  In 2008, President Obama and the Democrats had an amazing year, sweeping the Republicans out of the White House and creating huge majorities in Congress.  They did this with a lot of help from young voters.  In 2010, the situation reversed itself.  But all of the polling suggests that the electorate of 2010 was much older than the general population.  Will this reverse itself in 2012?  It's too early to say, but I think it's interesting to note that the Fox viewership mirrors the 2010 electorate, it's getting older.  Younger adults, who didn't show up at the polls in 2010, are turning to Stewart and Colbert!   Oh, and I thought interesting that the median age of viewers for Sarah Palin's Alaska was 57 years old, 15 years older than the typical TLC audience.  

The second aftershock is only now making itself felt -- the question that political parties and religious institutions need to consider, is how this shift will affect their longevity!   

America's Religious Identity -- Boom, Shocks, and After-shocks (Part 3A -- First Aftershock)

I want to spend a bit more time on the first aftershock to the 1960s reaction to the 1950s religiosity.  Robert Putnam and David Campbell, in their book, American Grace, have gone into some detail exploring the rise of evangelicalism in the 1970s and 1980s, a period in which the nation itself saw a conservative reaction to the more liberal 1960s.  They note the usual explanations, including higher birth rates and retention, as well as the possibility of converts. 

They note that conversion rates to evangelicalism rose signficantly during this period, with 1/3 of evangelicals today not being raised in evangelical homes.  They have also not suffered as much from intergenerational loss as Mainline and Catholic Churches (Catholic stability is the result of immigration, especially Hispanic immigration).  They note that as late as the 1960s, evangelical churches tended to lose some among their younger generations to Mainline churches as they rose into the middle class -- trading Baptist for Episcopal, even as they traded Chevy for Buick.  But in this period educated young adults stayed home. 

As they explore the demographics, they note that the studies suggest that the nation may have, during this period began to move in a rightward direction.  And if you look around, you'll find much evidence to support this -- especially for those who are forty years and older.  Although there are younger people in the Tea Party ranks, if you look closely the majority are 50 plus.  I think if you check, Fox News does best among the same demographic. Oh, and the demographics for Sarah Palin's Alaska series -- the median age for week 2 was 57 years old, 15 years older than the typical TLC audience. 

But, back to the period of the 1970s and 1980s when a conservative aftershock was first being felt (when I was just coming of age).  It doesn't seem as if this change was just theologically driven, as affirmations of biblical literalism have declined through this entire period.  Part of the answer may be simpler than you'd think -- "greater organizational energy and inventiveness" (p. 113).  Why have conservative evangelicals thrived?  It's not necessarily their theology or even their politics, but their entrepreneurial spirit -- their inventiveness -- contemporary music, worship, etc.  Going back to the 1970s, while mainline churches continued to affirm traditional liturgy and music (with the brief exception of folk mass forays), evangelicals embraced contemporary Christian music.  Jesus music proliferated.  They also made better use of small groups and of course they built churches in the suburbs and along freeways.  Oh, and they were strongly present on college campuses -- Campus Crusade for Christ, Navigators, and InterVarsity all being good examples -- while mainline campus ministries went into steep decline.

Still, the authors don't think this is the final explanation for the growing influence of conservative evangelicalism.  They suggest that the answer might be found in a Pauline injunction to "stand firm."  

This was an age of turmoil that many Americans found deeply repugnant to their fundamental moral and religious views.  Other trumpets might be uncertain, but evangelical trumpets were not.  Evangelicals were prepared to heed Paul's advice and stand up for their values.  (American Grace, p. 113).  

Even as Mainline churches expressed uncertainty in the face of change -- they seemed to cling to traditional liturgy and structures, while allowing more diversity in theology and moral practice, evangelicals seemed to stay true to traditional theology and values (even if they did so with new liturgical forms).  Consider:

Evangelicals' distinctive moral outlook, inherited from their fundamentalist forebears, is dark and somewhat puritanical (or Victorian).  They share a view of the world as sinful and of God as a harsh judge.  For them, heaven, hell and judgment day are realities, not metaphors, and moral issues are framed in absolute, black-and-white terms.  (American Grace, p. 113-114). 

And after the 1960s, this firmness of conviction seemed attractive to many, including to many younger adults who came of age at about the same time I did.   

I wanted to dig a bit deeper into this reaction, because it sets up a major aftershock to the first aftershock, and it helps explain why younger adults are fleeing churches today, whether conservative or liberal.  So, on to part 4!

America's Religious Identity -- Boom, Shocks, and After-shocks (Part 3 -- First Aftershock)

I graduated from high school in 1976, and we were by most measures a rather religious bunch.  My principal told my mother that my class was the most religious he'd ever seen come through the school (and he'd been there a long time).  Back in the mid to late 70s we saw Jimmy Carter ride a wave of evangelical support into the White House.  Being a Republican at the time I had to defend Gerry Ford's Christian faith.  The Moral Majority was active, Pat Robertson was popular, and Bill Bright sponsored his "I Found It" campaign, wherein blue bumper stickers got placed everywhere imaginable.  Oh, and I left my Episcopal church home for the excitement of the local Foursquare Church, along with a lot of other mainliners, who were attracted to the Jesus People message, and the Christian rock and roll (Love Song, Larry Norman, Barry McGuire, Keith Green, et al). 

According to Robert Putnam and Dennis Campbell, I was part of a conservative aftershock.  The excesses of the 1960s, which had been accompanied by major social/cultural changes, including the Civil Rights Movement and the Sexual Revolution, led to Richard Nixon's election in 1968 as voice of the so-called "Silent Majority," the "majority" that had not come of age in the 1960s.  As I came of age, I was caught up in this reaction that stemmed for a time, at least, the attendance decreases in the churches -- only the more liberal mainline churches continued to empty out -- in part due to a lower birth rate -- but also because many young adults, like me, chose to move over to the more conservative evangelical churches.  My cohort, which came of age in the late 70s and early 80s even saw an increase in attendance.  

Putnam and Campbell write that conservative religiosity in the 1970s and 1980s was most visible in the same niche as was the radicalism of the 1960s -- the college age group.  They note that while student radicalism peaked around 1968, by 1971 a new quietism had hit the campuses.  Interestingly, a more liberal view of sex continued through this era (we didn't go back to the 50s in this area).  What is interesting is the change in religious identification.  Whereas the number of college freshman who rejected a religious identity doubled between 1966 and 1971, it went up just as quickly in the following decade (my decade).  

But, again the key component here is not just that they returned to church, but the churches to which they turned.  

Just as in politics, many Americans of all ages were deeply troubled by the moral and religious developments of the Sixties.  For the next two decades, these people -- conservative in both religion and politics -- swelled the ranks both of evangelical Protestant denominations and of the rapidly growing evangelical megachurches that disavowed denominations and termed themselves simply "Christian." (American Grace, pp. 102-103). 

Thus, we can see the evangelical boom as a conservative reaction to the 1960s, but like all things, booms tend to come to an end, even if their after-effects continue long afterward.  One of the explanations for evangelical growth has been higher birth rates and more effectiveness in retaining one's young people.  

But as important as this growth in evangelicalism, Putnam and Campbell note that this evangelical rise began to dissipate in the early 1990s, and that over the past two decades the number of evangelicals has actually declined.  In fact, without the increases in non-denominational churches, the evangelical decline would have been even greater.  Therefore, and here is the kicker, "In twenty-first century America expansive evangelicalism is a feature of the past, not the present" (American Grace, p. 105). 

What this leads us to is the current cohort, and another aftershock -- a response to the aftershock of the Carter/Reagan era!  But that's for Part 4 of this series.  What is clear, and what Putnam and Campbell want us to understand is that the aggregate picture changes, gradually and slowly, but it changes none the less.  The 1960s provided clear change, especially in reaction to the perceived political radicalism of the age and the moral excesses (but even then a more permissive attitude persisted, even if tempered by a more conservative religious perspective).  But, as the Greatest Generation dies off, their conservatism will dissipate, and the early Boomers (those who came of age in the 1960s will see their influence grow), and on we go until we reach the current cohort, my son's cohort. 

Where will the political and religious trends take us?

America's Religious Identity -- Boom, Shocks, and After-shocks (Part 2 -- Long 1960s)

In the Post World War II era, religion boomed in America, along with all sorts of other service and fraternal organizations.  Their wives, many of whom had worked at America's factories during the war, returned home, had babies (remember Leave It to Beaver?).   This is the generation to which the famed Baby Boomer Generation was born, and as the War babies and post-war babies matured into adulthood, they encountered a new kind of world, and in many ways remade the world -- especially religiously. 

According to Robert Putnam and Dennis Campbell, writing in American Grace, there has been one major shock (the Long 1960s) and two Aftershocks since the religious boom of the 1950s.  Religious attendance among young adults reached its apex in 1957, when 51% of young adults claimed regular church attendance (growing from about 31% in 1950).  That number would fall just as quickly as it rose as the 1960s hit.   

This new era of "Shock" is labeled the "Long 1960s" by Putnam and Campbell, because it stretched into the early 70s. As for me, having been born in 1958, I was spending my days in elementary school and junior high.  This was a decade of exceptional change, as war babies and the first cohorts of Baby Boomers started coming of Age.  During this long "decade" we witnessed the full expansion of the Civil Rights movement, the Vietnam War, three assassinations (two Kennedys and a King), and the birth of the sexual revolution.  Yes this was the era of "Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll," and of course the period in which a group of theologians declared that "God is Dead."   Historian Sydney Ahlstrom is quoted by the authors:  "It was perfectly clear to any reasonably observant American that the postwar revival of the Eisenhower years had completely sputtered out, and that the nation was experiencing a crise de conscience of unprecedented depth" (p. 92). 

Of course not everyone joined in embracing this season of change -- it was the youngest of adults who came of age during this period -- the older generations continued attending church and doing what they had been doing, and many as we'll see in Part 3, were scandalized by what they were observing, especially regarding the change in understanding of the permissibility of premarital sex.  In the cohort that came of age in the 1960s 80% said it was only sometimes wrong or not wrong at all, and in 1970 nearly 50% of Americans reported that they were more liberal on this subject than were their parents.  Although we will witness a conservative reaction to the alleged excesses of the 1960s, even among younger adults (first aftershock) there would continue to be considerable liberality on this subject.  

But, our focus here is not on politics and sexuality, but on religion, and here things were changing as well.  The authors note that whereas huge numbers were heading off to seminary in the 1950s and early 1960s, a survey of clergy in 1971 showed that 40% of clergy under forty were considering leaving the ministry.  The sale of religious publications dropped by a third.  Oh, and this was also a period of religious experimentation -- the beginnings of what has become known as the "spiritual but not religious" group.  

Here is the kicker that I want to leave with you, before I turn to the first aftershock in the next posting.  Concerning the dramatic decline in religious observance that was seen in the 1960s, Putnam and Campbell write:

The fraction of all Americans who said that religion was "very important" to them personally fell from 75 percent in 1952 and 70 percent as late as 1965 to 52 percent in 1978, while the fraction who said that "religion can answer today's problems" dropped from 81 percent in 1957 to 62 percent  in 1974.  According to the Gallup Poll, weekly church attendance nationwide plummeted from 49 percent in 1958 to 42 percent in 1969, by far the largest decline on this measure ever recorded in such a brief period. (American Grace, pp, 97-98). 

What is most telling is that even as total attendance figures saw  a decline, this was most pronounced among young adults.  They note that "among twenty-somethings, the rate of decline was more than twice the national average."  For those fifty and over, there was no change recorded, but for those who were age 18 -29, the drop from 1957 to 1971 was from 51% to 28%.  This cohort is now in their late 50s to early 60s, and while some of them came back to church, not all did.    The reasons for the decline are many -- including reactions to war, civil rights, sexuality, and more. 

This was the period of Shock, there was an aftershock to follow, and we must move to it in the next posting.

America's Religious Identity -- Boom, Shocks, and After-shocks (Part 1)

The 1950s saw one of the largest booms in religiosity that Americans have ever witnessed.  All you had to do was open the doors and the churches were full.  Liberal and conservative, Mainline, Catholic, Evangelical -- everyone was doing well.  And the key to success, interestingly enough, were the men returning home from the War.  Yes, it was the returning GI's and their wives, the so-called "Greatest Generation" that fueled this incredible spike in religious (and civic) involvement.   Robert Putnam and Dennis Campbell lay out this scenario in American Grace.

[T]he distinguishing features of the men now accompanying their wives to church were that they were mostly young fathers, mostly veterans, and mostly college-educated.  The postwar boom in church going was fueled above all by men who had survived the Great Depression as teenagers and World War II as grunts, and were now ready at last to settle into a normal life, with a steady job, a growing family, a new house, and a car, and respectable middle-class status.  Church going was an important emblem of that respectability. (American Grace, pp. 85-86).

Thus, between 1940 and 1960 church membership climbed from about 49% of the population to 69%.  My parents were part of this generation -- well, my father was in the war, my mother was still in her mid-teens when the war ended and the Baby Boom began.   During this period Mainline churches were out front, the bastions of religious respectability.  I remember growing up in the late 1960s and early 1970s in Klamath Falls, Oregon, and our Episcopal Church was full of families.  The Disciples of Christ, like many denominations, purchased land in new subdivisions and planted churches there, expecting them to boom.  Consider that, according to the authors, between 1945 and 1960, in inflation-adjusted dollars, church construction went up from about $26 million to $615 million dollars.  As the construction of churches expanded, people did come, at least for a time, but then as the 1960s set in things began to change.  A new generation came of age and they were looking for something else besides religious respectability.  But more about this "shock" generation in Part 2. 

What needs to be noted here is that this generation of joiners and builders, the men and women who provided the backbone for our religious institutions and "peopled" our churches with children, are passing from the scene, and they are being replaced by generations much less interested in sustaining religious institutions.  [To be continued]

Buddhism and Violence -- Sightings

Last night the Troy-Area Interfaith Group held it's annual Thanksgiving Service at the local Hindu Temple.  It was good to gather together and affirm our common humanity, which transcends our religious and cultural differences.  One of the values of gatherings such is this is that they allow us to get to know each other as human beings, recognizing that each religious tradition has its positive and negative attributes.  In today's Sightings column, Martin Marty takes note of something pointed out in the book American Grace, which I myself am currently reading with great fascination.  As the title of the posting suggests, it has to do with Buddhism.  Robert Putnam and David Campbell in comments, which I've yet to come upon, note that Americans don't have very warm feelings toward Muslims, Mormons, and Buddhists.  The last might seem surprising since most Americans deem Buddhists a fairly peaceful group.  But then, they don't know much about them.  But, in the interest of having a balanced understanding of our religious professions, Marty notes that there is evidence that Buddhism also has a dark side -- just as Christianity, Judaism, and Islam do.  So, I invite you to read and respond.

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Sightings 11/22/2010

Buddhism and Violence

- Martin E. Marty

Buddhism and Islam came off as the two “faith communities” to whom other Americans feel least warm, according to a Faith Matters survey of 2007. Robert Putnam and David Campbell ponder this in American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us, which Sightings has visited twice before. Mormons come in third as a stimulator of “least warm” feelings among others. The authors comment that negative media attention hurts Mormons and Muslims, but “Buddhists do not get the same negative media attention” as do those two. So something else must account for the negative ratings of Buddhism.

Reach for your search engine, Google or otherwise, and ask “which religion is most peaceful?” Once you get past the answers of apologists—of course, Muslims think Islam is, and Christians think Christianity is—it’s clear that Buddhism is seen as most peaceful. What gives? Read on in the polls and interviews and you will find that Buddhists are kept at a distance by some because they are at a distance from others. Buddhists profit from their distance. If familiarity breeds contempt against Muslims, unfamiliarity also does not help them or Buddhists. Despite this picture derived from those polls and interviews, one still has to ponder: Jews, Christians, and Muslims suffer in the media because their texts and traditions are often so warlike. Ask your friend who practices Buddhism why it does not suffer? Answer: Because its texts and traditions breed peace.

As an equal opportunity admirer and critic of the “faith communities” on this subject, I also have wondered how Buddhism gets its peaceful reputation. A review by Katherine Wharton of two books, Buddhist Warfare and The Six Perfections illuminates. Buddhist Warfare, says Wharton, “forms an accurate history of violence in the name of religion,” and cites sutras which shock, since they “justify killing with detailed reference to the Buddha’s central philosophical tenants. The book therefore presents a uniquely Buddhist ‘heart of darkness.’” Brian Victoria’s essay in The Six Perfections brings the issue to modern times: D. T. Suzuki (d. 1966), “the most influential proponent of Zen to the West in the twentieth century . . . gave his unqualified support to the ‘unity of Zen and the sword.’” Between ancient and modern times, as another contributor to these symposia finds and cites, was Chinese monk Yi-hiuan, who urged his hearers to “kill everything you encounter, internally as well as externally! Kill the Buddha! Kill your father and mother! Kill your closest friends!”

In the eyes of many apologists and observers, the Buddhist concept of “emptiness” is, from a distance, a guarantor of peace, over against the fullness of Warrior-God texts in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. But Wharton is convinced by these books that “emptiness” can and does also promote violence, and is not by itself the solution.

Now, why does Sightings, which keeps track of celebrations of peace and reconciliation, so often point to violence in texts and traditions? To give aid and comfort to “the New Atheists,” who solicit our aid in killing all religion(s) to assure peace? Hardly. To suggest that condemning Muslims (or specific others) because of the violence of some among them is unfair? Partly. Most important it is to provide a basis for hope for those who work on ecumenical or interfaith grounds and to point to the reconciliatory texts and work on the basis of them, but without illusions. Respondent publics agree that the religious texts point finally to shalom, peace, reconciliation. Their final promise deserves attention all along the way. The final word might come first.


References


David E. Campbell and Robert D. Putnam, American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2010).

Michael K. Jerryson and Mark Juergensmeyer, editors, Buddhist Warfare (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010).

Katherine Wharton, “Buddhists at war: The dark side of what is often thought to be the most peaceful of religions,” The Times Literary Supplement, September 29, 2010.


Dale S. Wright, The Six Perfections: Buddhism and the Cultivation of Character (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009).















Martin E. Marty's biography, current projects, publications, and contact information can be found at www.illuminos.com.



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Editor’s Note: Sightings will take a break for Thanksgiving and will return on Monday, November 29.







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Sightings comes from the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School.

Religious Pluralism Coexisting with Religious Polarization?

Last night I got home from Bible Study to find a copy of American Grace lying in the entryway (graciously provided by the publisher, Simon and Schuster).  It is a massive book, that I think will have a profound impact on our conversations going forward.  I've just read a few pages in, but already recognize it to be an important contributor to the discussion of the religious situation we find in America today. 

The subtitle of the book -- "How Religion Divides and Unites Us"  -- is helpful, in that it reminds us that religion can have both effects.  Early in the first chapter the authors, Robert Putnam and David Campbell, note the change that occurred between 1960 and 2004.  In 1960 John F. Kennedy ran for President and garnered the vast majority of Roman Catholic votes, even though he differed from his church on a number of issues, and won a close election against the Protestant Richard Nixon, who garnered much of the Protestant vote (remember that Charles C. Morrison, the longtime Editor/Publisher of the Christian Century warned that a Kennedy victory would make the nation subservient to Rome).  In 2004, another Roman Catholic ran for President, and he too differed from his church -- especially on one particular issue -- and a majority of Catholics voted for his opponent, an Protestant Evangelical.  What had happened?  Well, back in 1960 denomination mattered, in 2004 it was a matter of how religious you actually were.  That is piety not affiliation.  

There is much to wrestle with, and I've only read about 19 pages -- but the authors raise the issue that will transfix us -- how do pluralism and polarization coexist?  They write:

The answer lies in the fact that, in America, religion is highly fluid.  The conditions producing that fluidity are a signal feature of the nation's constitutional infrastructure.  The very first words of the Bill of Rights guarantee that Congress -- later interpreted to mean any level of government -- will favor no particular religion, while ensuring that Americans can freely exercise their religious beliefs.  In the legal arena, debates over such matters as whether the Ten Commandments can be displayed on public property hinge on the interpretation of the Constitution's words.  More broadly, the absence of a a state-run religious monopoly combined with a wide sphere of religious liberty has produced an ideal environment for a thriving religious ecosystem.  Religions compete, adapt, and evolve as individual Americans freely move from one congregation to another, and even from one religion to another.  In the United States, it seems perfectly natural to refer to one's religion as a "preference" instead of as a fixed characteristic. (American Grace, p. 4).   

This fluidity allows for both the pluralism and the polarization.  And if we don't like one version we can move to another, and if none works, then we can join the increasing number of "nones," who form, according to the authors, the third largest grouping after Evangelicals and Catholics -- and growing.  And just as a reminder, the "nones" are highly present in the under 40 crowd.   That fact has religious and political implications -- in case you are wondering.