I don’t believe in God but I’m very interested in her.
— Arthur C. Clarke
It’s not too hard, at this time of year, to find myself siding with the so-called New Atheists — Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris and the like. My skepticism stems from a long-time disenchantment with the world of organized faith. I was 10 when my father died. A relative, meaning nothing but the best, insisted that losing my beloved parent was God’s will. I wanted little to do with Him after that.
The brouhaha that surrounds the holiday season has only added to my doubts over the decades. I’m Jewish — and the relatively minor holiday of Hanukkah was necessarily elevated far beyond its importance when I was a kid. Why? Children of my faith had their noses pressed against the glass throughout December, chronically envious of their Christian neighbours. My financially struggling mother felt the need to jump on the bandwagon — that is to say Santa’s overburdened denominational sleigh — and make a point of giving gifts to her offspring for the full eight days of the Festival of Lights. We were appeased, temporarily, but we weren’t fools. We still felt we were on the outside looking in.
Perhaps that’s my biggest gripe against organized religion: In the name of divine love, it separates us into clubs that, at their worst, resemble fraternities — complete with hazing rituals.
So from my perspective, the season seems to have little to do with spirituality and a lot to do with a rabid, frothing-at-the-mouth kind of consumption that strikes me as just a tad unseemly.
I suspect I’m not alone. Between 1991 and 2001 — the last figures available — the number of Canadians who declared that they had no religious affiliation increased by more than 44 per cent, according to Statistics Canada. What’s more, says the StatsCan report: “British Columbia was the only province, other than the Yukon Territory, that had ‘;no religion’ as the most frequent response reported in the 2001 census. Just under 1.4 million British Columbia residents reported that they had no religion, a 39 per cent increase since 1991. They accounted for 35 per cent of the population in 2001, compared with 30 per cent in 1991.”
But here’s the kicker. As our cohort ages, we appear to have a yearning — a longing for meaning. According to Canada’s National Advisory Council on Aging, seniors are more overtly religious than any other age group. As well, those who were once religious tend to return to the fold as they age.
Clearly, the religious impulse lingers, although many of us want the milk but not the cow. Some people find religion in ideology or various utopian experiments. Others believe the arts can deliver us to a higher plane.
My guess is that many are attracted to the comforting ritual that religion provides. Enter Alain de Botton. He suggests that those of us who stubbornly resist the congregation can satisfy our craving for pomp with a temple devoted to atheists. He’s raising money to build one in the United Kingdom even as I write. He also believes non-religious institutions should adopt rites and habits associated with organized worship. To that end, he supports the creation of communal restaurants that mimic religious gatherings. Atheists would sit at communal tables and make use of ceremonial documents that pose questions such as, “Whom can you not forgive?” or “What do you fear?”
Peter Emberley, a professor of political science and philosophy at Carleton University, says the spiritual searchings of Canadians of the baby-boom generation is ongoing. He maintains that we’re trying to find a way to reconcile our inherent disbelief with a fundamental urge to understand why we’re here. He proposes three means for achieving that understanding. Some of us are clinging to traditional faith, of course. But others are seeking out ways to make the humanist elements of religion serve as guides for the way we conduct our lives. Still others are embracing the rituals we grew up with, without the baggage of religious belief.
One of my personal tenets is tolerance. I’m convinced that inclusion is a cure for what ails us. If, for some, that takes the form of religious belief, I support that vision. If God is an equal-opportunity deity, I’m all with Her.
