Post-Christianity
I’ve heard a great deal lately about the post-Christian era. Everyone seems to be armed with statistics to prove that we either are or are not falling away from organized religion. Here in Mississippi I’ve witnessed both a falling away and a reemergence of the church. Some churches are dying. Others are thriving. Largely, however, we do live in a post-Christian society in which those actively practicing a personal faith are seen as misfits, artifacts of another age.
This begs the question, “What do we have to show for it?”
There is a country song with the line, “I don’t know why you are so angry all the time,” that almost seems to sum up society as a whole, not just one disgruntled wife. We have disallowed everything sacred other than self-esteem, and for that we are raising the Prozac Generation. People are angry and dissatisfied as a way of life. So many people have gotten themselves diagnosed with chemical imbalances and personality disorders as to almost render the terms meaningless. At what point are we allowed to say that people are suffering from character flaws rather than disorders beyond their own control?
People need something to believe in. They need something to work toward. This is human nature. Our psyches fall apart without a sense of where we belong, to whom we belong, and to what end.
Max Lucado’s latest book, Cure for the Common Life, says that people live in their “sweet spots” when they fulfill their own unique God-given purpose.
This kind of thinking in a post-Christian era usually results in people quoting Karl Marx: “Religion is the opium of the people.”
It is true, however, that there is a kind of satisfaction and fulfillment that can only come from living by what we believe in our hearts to be right.
Ask the volunteers who show up in disaster zones if they are happy. Ask a retired missionary who has lived her whole life in service to others if she is happy. Ask the father who coaches his daughter’s softball team despite the fact that he can ill-afford the time if he is happy.
No need to ask. We all know these people, and their faces are all the witness they require. We can see for ourselves that they are somehow exempt from the standard-issue angst of our time.
Perhaps religion is a drug. Perhaps we live in a world that has gotten too smart to fall for dogma. But as drugs go, dedication to a God-given purpose is far more effective than the army of anti-depressants now available at your local pharmacy.
Of course, there is a time and a place for everything, and I am not against seeking medical and/or psychological help as necessary. I’m just saying we can’t all be chemically maladapted. Some of us really do have character flaws. Some of us really are unhappy because we’ve made bad choices. Some of us really are dissatisfied because we have nothing to believe in. I’m just saying.
This begs the question, “What do we have to show for it?”
There is a country song with the line, “I don’t know why you are so angry all the time,” that almost seems to sum up society as a whole, not just one disgruntled wife. We have disallowed everything sacred other than self-esteem, and for that we are raising the Prozac Generation. People are angry and dissatisfied as a way of life. So many people have gotten themselves diagnosed with chemical imbalances and personality disorders as to almost render the terms meaningless. At what point are we allowed to say that people are suffering from character flaws rather than disorders beyond their own control?
People need something to believe in. They need something to work toward. This is human nature. Our psyches fall apart without a sense of where we belong, to whom we belong, and to what end.
Max Lucado’s latest book, Cure for the Common Life, says that people live in their “sweet spots” when they fulfill their own unique God-given purpose.
This kind of thinking in a post-Christian era usually results in people quoting Karl Marx: “Religion is the opium of the people.”
It is true, however, that there is a kind of satisfaction and fulfillment that can only come from living by what we believe in our hearts to be right.
Ask the volunteers who show up in disaster zones if they are happy. Ask a retired missionary who has lived her whole life in service to others if she is happy. Ask the father who coaches his daughter’s softball team despite the fact that he can ill-afford the time if he is happy.
No need to ask. We all know these people, and their faces are all the witness they require. We can see for ourselves that they are somehow exempt from the standard-issue angst of our time.
Perhaps religion is a drug. Perhaps we live in a world that has gotten too smart to fall for dogma. But as drugs go, dedication to a God-given purpose is far more effective than the army of anti-depressants now available at your local pharmacy.
Of course, there is a time and a place for everything, and I am not against seeking medical and/or psychological help as necessary. I’m just saying we can’t all be chemically maladapted. Some of us really do have character flaws. Some of us really are unhappy because we’ve made bad choices. Some of us really are dissatisfied because we have nothing to believe in. I’m just saying.
posted by Sharon Gerald | 7:09 AM
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