I was always the different boy who wasn’t going to grow up to be a policeman or a fireman, a soldier or a plumber, a mechanic or a businessman — no, those were great and all, but I wanted to be a scientist. Growing up for a time in a very fundamentalist/Pentecostal/Evangelical environment, my natural predisposition toward critical thinking and voracious hunger for learning sometimes met sharp disapproval from leaders who thought it was unhealthy to be one of THOSE people, the intellectuals, since they don’t just blindly believe. Doubting Thomases!
I have since gone on to pursue that dream, achieving all but a dissertation for a Ph.D. in Physics, putting my knowledge and skills to work in the space program, missile defense, forensics, and even teaching the next generation of budding scientists. More recently, I have transitioned to healthcare, participating in vaccine research. To say that science is a foundational aspect of my life would not be overstating anything. Despite what the leadership of my childhood churches worried about, I have managed to hang onto Christianity as my core motivation and inspiration. It is also true that it has managed to hang onto me. They are not competing milieus for me; instead, they are complementary.
In this context, I am frequently asked for my opinion about any number of media claims and reports of a science-like nature. While I love sharing the knowledge I am privileged to possess, I also have the occasional misfortune of bearing bad news when I recognize that an idea should be debunked. A frequent challenge I face is scientism. Not to be confused with science, scientism is a reverence for science that borders on a religious-like zeal. It is a passionate appeal to science as a toehold into the transcendent, but it doesn’t actually dig deep into scientific methodology or discipline. Much like pop psychology is a poor substitute for actual interventional care, scientism provides a candy-coated experience that feels smart and gives the adherent a sense of knowing some secret knowledge that connects them with something larger. It’s all the wonder without having to do the math.
I don’t mean to downplay a fascination with science at all — actually, I love science fiction and admire any attempt to make it more relatable to the average person who can’t do the math. The problem I am identifying is when the reverence for the science becomes the focus, so much so that it’s difficult to discern the truth from the fiction. It’s part of a larger pattern of human behavior: we seek to make sense of the physical world around us, but especially of the metaphysical like love, justice, ethics, where it all comes from, etc. Humans will build a system to attempt to answer those questions if they aren’t satisfied with one already there. We have a hunger for connection with “The Big Picture.”
Something that has been gnawing at me for a while is the notion that religion is also getting this treatment. The idea of religion, for those who still adhere to one or more, is often more appealing than actually practicing its precepts. Think of how often we interact with people who will loudly proclaim their faith, fly the flag and/or wear the shirt, and promote ideals they have no intention of living up to. They are, in a sports metaphor, the fans who cheer their team when they make the championships or armchair quarterbacks, but that’s where it ends. Sometimes it’s worse: the religious version of the football (soccer) hooligans who will turn a game into a brawl and tear the stadium down. Hypocrisy is only one aspect of this, as a large number of the disingenuous are too unaware of what their alleged religious affiliation expects to truly be labelled as hypocrites. They will use their religion’s name, but don’t preach or embody its true message because they don’t know it.
Just as scientism attracts its believers with news of wonders and exciting new developments but does not teach the humility required in practicing the scientific method — a willingness to admit an error and seek a resolution — religious pursuits without grasping the virtues expected sets one up for disillusionment and ultimately defames the religion itself. It’s more appropriate to call this sort of Christian a Christianist instead, as they often will hammer home the need for conversion or a certain lifestyle but treat the Beatitudes as unimportant. They want all the outward appearances of holiness without embracing the love and grace that is central to the teachings of the Gospels. It’s a prime reason Gandhi is quoted as saying “I like your Jesus, but I do not like your Christians.”
This isn’t solely a Christian thing — it also appears in other religions, philosophies, political movements, economic systems, etc. Islamist, for example, is a term commonly found in news reports of terrorist groups who claim to represent Islam, but have a very slanted view of what the Prophet taught and embrace violence that he would have condemned. We humans have a bad habit of supporting people and systems who grab onto ideas that could benefit the many, but instead twist them to benefit the few. It’s a selfish thing, since we naively think that if we support the powerful, they will use that power to benefit us in gratitude. We will make sacrifices to these idols — our time, our attention, our resources, our unquestioning loyalty — all in the belief that we can share in the prosperity and comfort the powerful flaunt. The darker side to this is that the rate of psychopathy, sociopathy, and narcissism among the powerful is roughly twice what is normal across all of humanity. All too often the leadership that seems most exciting is also the least benevolent.
How do we improve despite this human tendency? There is no simple answer, since we are a tribal species, but we can improve our odds of success by putting some effort into examining what motivates us individually. Everyone has something that drives them, and each person has a unique story that explains the hopes and fears that propel them into decisions and actions (or indecision and inaction). We need to do the hard work that is required to really understand the concepts we wish to embrace, rather than superficially pledge our allegiance to some larger group and wear the labels.
Be the true thing, not its shallow counterfeit … reality versus realism. Circling back to my own affiliation, Christians need to spend much more time reading and understanding the Sermon on the Mount than the endless rules and regulations of the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Old Testament) or even the musings of the Epistle writers. Put love, humility, meekness, peacemaking, etc. above simply looking well-behaved, and accept that there are sacrifices involved sometimes when we don’t get our way. It’s not all about us. If we want to see Christianity lose its troubled reputation, emulate Christ, not the Christianists.
Answer the tough question: am I a Christian or merely a Christianist?
