Secular Is As Secular Does

Harry T. Cook

By Harry T. Cook
2/13/15
 

 

It would be my choice to see what follows here on the op-ed page of the New York Times, but I play in the minor leagues -- not even at the AAA level.

Nevertheless, I take issue with David Brooks' column that appeared in the Times on February 3. He was at work trying to "correct" his readers' understanding of what he called "secularism." The piece included the declaration that "you either believe in God or you don't" and concluded with the word "sanctification," demonstrating that Columnist Brooks does not understand very much about what it means to be "secular."  For one thing, there is no such thing as "secularism."

One who defines herself as "secular" does not begin with the cataloging of propositions in which she does not believe, e.g. "in god," but with what she does believe. What she does believe -- that is, takes as the conditional truth of a matter -- is what she has been able to rationalize through analysis of experience.

 

Thus one who thinks of herself as "secular" believes what, in that way, she has learned so far. She is careful to acknowledge that what she says she knows is contingent -- that is, open to revision as new information may emerge.

A secular person by this description does not say, for example, that she does not "believe in God" or that she does. She says she does not yet know enough to be able so to believe or not to believe. She will say that she has insufficient information to say one way or another, so that, in jurisprudential terms, she stands mute on the subject.

Moreover, the secular person is concerned primarily with the here-and-now -- which is what "secular" means: of this world. She looks ahead, not behind. She looks at where she is. She is utterly unconcerned with "sanctification," viz. "growing in divine grace" (Merriam-Webster) mostly because she hasn't the faintest idea what that means.

 

She is, though, concerned with the welfare of family, friends and neighbors, and certainly understands the answer Jesus of Nazareth gave to the lawyer who asked "Who is my neighbor, anyway?" The answer was the parable of the Good Samaritan. To the degree anyone wishes to say that what the Samaritan did was cause for his "sanctification," she's OK with it. She just calls it "being human."

The secular person is generally positive about life but is not above engaging in the philosophical exercise known as praemeditatio malorum, i.e. contemplating the worst that can happen.

That leads her further to consider what she might do to avoid or mitigate its effect. Because the focus of her attention and care is "this world," she will naturally enlist others in her concern and offer her own ideas for how to turn that "worst" into "not so bad," or even "not bad at all."

She will not pray to any god of whose existence, power or disposition she has no useful knowledge. Yet she will not mind if others pray. Her goal is not to be right but to be effective.

That would be sanctification enough.

 


Copyright 2015 Harry T. Cook. All rights reserved. This article may not be used or reproduced without proper credit.
 


Readers Write
Re essay of 2/6/15 Christian Madrasas
 

Eunice Rose, Southfield, Michigan:

About 20 years ago I found myself working as a librarian at a Detroit Christian private school. I thought I could tolerate it, since I was one of the "specials," i.e. library period. Oh boy, was I ever wrong! Their narrow view of Christianity stuck in my craw, especially their summer program. The school year was August to July, with one month off before starting again. The July program included Bible study with young interns. They were sickening in their sweetness. I swear that I thought I was in the middle of a horror movie as I looked at their eyes. They reminded me of the zombies in every awful movie I saw as a teenager. Talk about the undead! Talk about what was filling the heads of the children! I lasted at that place for two years, and was fired because of my two sins: 1. being outspoken and 2. being white and Jewish. Down deep in the administration's "inclusion policy" was a distrust of anyone who tried to bring some kind of sanity into the equation. I wonder how my "babies" there have fared lo, these many years later. Probably doing well in scholastics, but I shudder to think of what a spiritual mess they are living with today.

 

Carl Hetler, South Bend, Indiana:

When you question belief, I think of Fowler's generic categories of meaning and value. Do you agree with that universal definition, and does it work to describe the Christian goal of finding meaning and value through Jesus?

 

Clarke Raymond, Halifax, Nova Scotia:

We read you here in the Maritimes and wonder how you fare in the States. Your points of view are much respected by the Progressive Christianity crowd here and elsewhere in Canada. Thank you for the article on the Vacation Bible school thing. The Bible is a dangerous book and ought to be treated in just that way.

 

Susan Hibbins Carroll, Pleasant Ridge, Michigan:

Your essay brought me back to my childhood when my sister wanted to sign up for every Vacation Bible School available. She loved the crafts. She does not belong to a church today.

 

Hannah Provence Donigan, Commerce, Michigan:

As a college student, I studied the Bible as literature. I learned to take the Bible seriously through understanding metaphors and other forms of poetic language. Your suggestion of teaching that way while avoiding dogma is pertinent. Sadly, fundamental, evangelical theists have great power. Liberal parents and relatives can and do influence children in interpreting meanings of passages. 

 

Bradley Hunter, Edina, Minnesota:

You've gone too far, sir, in dissing Vacation Bible schools. If it hadn't been for a church in my old hometown and my mother insisting that I go to that summer school, I would not know Jesus today. I'm sorry that you don't. You are perishing already.

 

Todd Bauer, Medina, Ohio:

Thank you so very much.  For years I've struggled with vague 'issues' with certain Christian programs, Vacation Bible schools being one of them.  You are able to take my vague confusion and mild knee-jerk 'something is wrong with this' feeling and articulate it perfectly.  If you haven't already done so, perhaps you can articulate why there is something 'off' but compelling about missions trips.  I'm tempted to go on one just to see if I can better understand what bothers me about the seemingly generous and selfless act of love.

 

Molly Parmenter, Ft. Myers, Florida:

I endured those Vacation Bible schools as a child in Ohio. And, you are right: it was my mother's free child care. I refused to commit to memory any bible verse except: JESUS WEPT. I figured he was weeping for me having to go to one school after the other one was over for the summer.  

 

Tracey Martin, Phoenix, Arizona:

My sole remaining recollection of summer Bible school is the biblical coloring books. But only one image intrudes on my mind: Jesus talking to some people in front of a house. Details my mind does not accord, but the color blue escaping its line of definition is included in the meager memory. Nothing of substance, however. But I don't recall it as at all unpleasant. Rather, I looked forward to it for some (gregarious?) reason. Fortunately for me, it was not trauma that carried me into early nonbelief. Lack of compelling credibility was enough.

 

Thad Benson, Portland, Oregon:  

I don't know how you avoid assassination at the hands of the Jesus People. I read your book SEVEN SAYINGS OF JESUS. It converted me, but not to "praise the Lord" religion, but to a religion -- like you said -- of behavior that thinks of the other first. I go with a nephew of mine every summer to a Habitat for Humanity project somewhere. That's his Bible school.

 

Mark Bendure, Grosse Pointe Park, Michigan:

Having attended a few Vacation Bible Schools in my day, I think you overestimate them in suggesting that the little munchkins are introduced to deep philosophical-textual discourse requiring that teachers have an advanced degree in theology or ancient languages. As I recall, they were more like institutional babysitters who gave us crayons to fill in pictures of Jesus or conducted a group songfest led off with, "Jesus loves me." Biblical discussions went no deeper than the beatitudes and Ten Commandments. Yes, it was a form of indoctrination, not really any different than any other church program for youth, with no apparent lasting damage.

 

Richard Schrader, Jacksonville, Florida:

Your essay on summer Bible schools brought to mind what the NRA did to bring about a total misunderstanding of the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. The Bible schools ignored history, misinterpreted the written texts of the Bible to create a Pabulum Belief System. It was probably unintentional, but the results can be seen in our body politic. The NRA's misinterpretation was intentional...designed to sell more guns! The Right to Bear Arms in 1790 meant that adult males had a duty to serve in the militia, a volunteer group whose purpose was to maintain civil order. Each militia member was to supply his own weapon...a barrel loading, single shot musket with a range of 75 or so yards. This is a far cry from the NRA's promotion of "self protection" with fast firing, multi-shot weapons with a range of 1/2 mile! What has happened? We have lost our ability to think hard-headedly and to confront sloppy thinking. Pogo was so right!

 

Fred Fenton, Concord, California:

Teaching religious texts in public schools, although a good idea, is not the cure for what ails this "Christian nation." The only way Christianity can be saved is by costly discipleship. As long as two million people can be deported during the Obama years, tearing families apart, Christian teaching of neighbor love is revealed as pious pretension.

 

Gary M. Wilson, Grosse Pointe Woods, Michigan:
The name "Isaiah" still gives me the creeps, long after the several days I suffered at a Vacation Bible School circa 1971. A friend of a childhood friend invited me to the affair held at what I think remains Salem Memorial Church in Detroit. A similar feeling arises from my experience of 12 years of catechism (coyly renamed "CCD'"somewhere in the early '70s, which I believe was short for 'Cramming Christian Doctrine') at St. Paul's on the Lake Catholic Church in Grosse Pointe Farms. I can still conjure the smell of floor wax and vomit when I think of St. Paul's school. The once per week Tuesday afternoon classes were attended by public school kids who were spirited away from our elementary schools via bus 45 minutes before the rest of the students were released. Taught by nuns early on and then the lay instructors you so accurately describe, one of them was the mother of an archbishop. She was as earnest as they come. And as clueless about conveying any message of any kind to kids our age, let alone a clear and engaging doctrinal message, as she could be.
 

What do you think?
I'd like to hear from you. E-mail your comments to me at revharrytcook@aol.com.