Is Religion the Problem?

Did you hear that Harvard University’s new chief chaplain is an atheist? The other 40 or so chaplains—representing all the major religions and denominations—elected him unanimously. Greg Epstein is author of Good Without God. Some students were raised in a religious tradition but more and more consider themselves unidentified. Which means some are “nones” and others are “dones.” Epstein and many students see humanism as an answer to meaning and purpose in life. “We don’t look to a god for answers,” Epstein said, “we look to each other.”

I’ve heard it said that Lutheranism has a pretty low anthropology with all its talk of our sinful human nature. And it can be hard to take at times. Take Jesus’ words today about evil and the intent of the human heart, for example.

But is religion the problem? Is it the opiate of the people as Marx purported? Is it the virus that infects everything and everyone? We talk about viruses on our computers. And since Covid, we are hyper-sensitive about transmission of airborne viruses. For a year and a half we have been told to wear a mask, practice social distancing, wash our hands. Even before that I was told that I wash my hands too quickly and that my two-second splash wasn’t enough. In February 2020 Beau hung up signs that suggested a song to sing while you wash your hands. Then we hear of Jesus and his disciples not washing their hands before eating in today’s gospel. This text raises issues about purity codes in biblical times. The role of Judaism under colonization. And the problem with legalism in religion. But don’t go literal and stop washing your hands!

We spend a lot of time trying to identify the problem—the virus, so to speak—that is infecting society and even the earth. Is it the internet and social media? Is it politics? Is it addiction? Is it injustice? Is it racism? Is it the widening gap between rich and poor?

Or is it religion? We can name the extremes of religion around the world today and through history. And we know that it isn’t just Islamic extremism. Christianity has blood on its hands, too.

Several weeks ago, conservative New York Times columnist Russ Douthat (yes, the New York Times has conservative columinists!) wrote a defense of God, “A Guide to Finding Faith.” Yet one of the letters to the editor following the article is worth considering: “The decline in commitment to organized religion is often not the faith itself, but the rules and regulations that come with it... the cultural demands of organized religion — be they wearing certain garments or symbols, ignoring science and medical treatment in favor of mysticism and religious rules, and disliking those of other faiths and behaviors — these ‘religious’ demands drive them away.” The letter’s author is a Unitarian Universalist who is proud that they accept all beliefs or none, and that you build your own faith.

If I could get a dollar for every conversation I’ve had in which someone named the problems with religion, I’d have quite a fund!

Holy Trinity prides itself on welcoming all, even though who struggle with organized religion. At the same time, we say that we value tradition. Can we hold these things simultaneously or is it a contraction?

Remember, though Jesus criticizes the religious zealots of his time, he continues to practice the rites and rituals of Judaism. He seems most upset about religious tradition that is legalistic and hypocritical. Being so concerned with the externals that we miss the internal motivation and purpose. It’s not about what goes into our bodies that makes us impure, he says, but what comes out: the lives we lead. If religion causes more harm than good, and doesn’t lead to the fruits of justice, integrity, and gratitude, then step back and examine it. 

I just finished a book that got me thinking. It is a critique of evangelical Christianity in this country. Let me name the danger in bringing it up. Mainline and progressive Christians already look down on the religious right. Yet the book is so helpful to understand what is going on in our country with politics, partisanship, and even the pandemic. By tracing the evangelical movement for the past fifty years, you begin to understand how evangelicals could vote for someone so far removed from what we assume are Christian values. Or what’s behind the resistance to vaccines and masks.

The book is called Jesus and John Wayne. The author, raised evangelical Christian, and in many ways writing to her peers, shows how the hyper masculinity of evangelicalism has influenced a political and religious approach to gender, sexual orientation, power, and sex. How Jesus and John Wayne get merged into an Americanized, individualized Christianity wedded to military might, patriarchy and authoritarianism. The subtitle is the zinger, though: How white evangelicals corrupted a faith and fractured a nation. 

I hope we can read, discuss and learn from the book. It certainly doesn’t solve the problems of our country but gives a new lens to understand how religion can produce the fruits of legalism and hatred, rather than compassion and justice.

Of course, being in a denomination and Lutheran tradition that uses the word “evangelical” in a completely different way doesn’t help, does it?

For us who are religious and value tradition, today’s texts should cause some soul-searching. What is the problem? What is the virus? Religion? Politics? Intolerance?  What would Jesus say? Sadly, in today’s text he says that the problem is us. All of us. Our human nature. Our natural tendency to seek our own welfare over the common good. The selfishness that infects even our best intentions. How we form tribes and groups with insiders and outsiders. And how our natural human sinfulness can corrupt even religion and the best of our traditions. Look within, Jesus seems to say. The problem isn’t them, it’s us.

Hold your tongue, the writer of James urges us. Be quick to listen. Slow to speak. Or as we might say today, take a breath, calm down, and wait before you post. 

Greg Epstein says to look not to a god but to one another for answers. We still value the depth and honesty that centuries of religious tradition and wisdom offer us. But we value one another as we come together as an assembly. Confessing our sin and turning to a power and presence beyond merely ourselves. 

Grounded in divine grace and mercy, today’s texts invite us, as one writer puts it, “past lip service, past tradition, past purity, past piety.” We as a community are invited to practice, as James puts, pure religion: a love for the widow and orphan, a love for the stranger and outcast, a love even for those who vote and believe differently than we do. It isn’t easy, that’s for sure. That’s why we gather together—around word and table. And a God not only of history and heritage, but a God who breathes new life into this present moment. And the challenges of our time.