“WHY RELIGION WILL SURVIVE THE INTERNET”
A Central Unitarian Church Sermon
Charles O’Reilly
Sunday, March 24, 2013

Back on January 16, Salon.com republished an article that Valerie Tarico had posted to AlterNet called “Religion may not survive the Internet.” The thrust of the article was that “right belief” requires a closed information system, and “the free flow of information is really, really bad for the product they [organized religions] are selling.”

That article, along with the recent Minns lecture series in Boston, prompted a minister from Colorado, the Rev. Roger Butts, to send a question to his colleagues via Twitter: “Is the Internet good for religion?” That tweet prompted the blog entry from the Rev. Dr. Victoria Weinstein that constituted today’s reading.

Of course, we’re different. This is a Unitarian Universalist congregation, and Revs. Butts and Weinstein are UU ministers. As the marketing folks up in Boston like to say, we’re “The Uncommon Denomination”. But what, exactly, are we?

When I walked into CUC thirteen years ago, I was scratching my head: Is Unitarian Universalism a religion, or is it a social club? If there’s no guiding force, no specific creed that each of us is asked to profess in order to become a member, is it really a church? I still wonder that sometimes. Our congregations still can’t seem to build their numbers. Some grow, some shrink, and the number of members nationwide continues to hold at about 160,000 – an ever-smaller sliver of our growing population, currently about 1/20 of 1 percent.

Then again, nobody else is growing either. After years of increases, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is seeing their rolls shrink. They’ve brought the term “Mormon” back into favor and they’re using it in their marketing in order to try to win (or win back) some adherents. Even the largest Protestant denomination, the Southern Baptist Convention, is scrambling to retain market share. Last year, they encouraged their members to follow the “Great Commission” Jesus is said to have given his apostles to go forth and preach the Gospel: proselytize, gain converts, and grow their membership.

But it looks more and more like a losing battle. The total number of Americans who identify as Protestant Christians has dropped below 50 percent of the population for the first time ever. Our previous minister, the Rev. Dr. Matt Tittle, reminded us in a sermon in December of the latest news: the folks who say they have no religious affiliation now number fully 20 percent of the American population.

In her article, Valerie Tarico listed five types of content, readily available on the World Wide Web for posting to a Facebook feed near you, that may be helping push people away from organized religion. She likened these content types to “electrolysis on religion’s hairy toes.”

The first content type she listed was “radically cool science videos and articles”. Many religions derive from creation myths, the stories we have told over the years to explain why the world is just so: the sun and stars in the sky, the blue waters and fertile landscapes, and the seeming domination of humankind among the thousands of animal species on our planet. But Tarico asserts that deep emotions like joy, transcendence, and wonder can be evoked just as easily by scientific inquiry, and she names several sites that specialize in evoking those emotions. Indeed, scientific discovery is one of the sources guiding Unitarian Universalism.

Tarico’s next content type was “curated collections of religious beliefs”. Many of us have seen those Internet memes that say things like “Oh, so you think gay marriage is forbidden by a verse in the Book of Leviticus? Here’s a whole list of other proscribed activities in Leviticus.” And while a lot of people shrug off those ancient restrictions that were relevant 2500 years ago but not today, folks still tend to be selective in their beliefs rather than following dogma to the letter. We hear of people who are, for instance, “cafeteria Catholics”, picking at the tenets of their faith as if they were sandwiches and desserts behind glass doors at the Automat. Of course, that’s been going on for centuries. Thomas Jefferson, who wasn’t a Unitarian but who often thought like one, cut and pasted his own Gospels, reading through it all and keeping only what he found was good. (By the way, the Jefferson Bible was republished some years ago – by Beacon Press, the publishing arm of the Unitarian Universalist Association.)

Next for Tarico was “the kinky, exploitative, oppressive, opportunistic and violent sides of religion”. History is written by the victors, of course. To the Christians of the year 1095, the Crusades were a glorious and inspired undertaking. “Deus vult! God wills it!” But try telling that to the Muslims in the Crusaders’ path. And it’s not only the Christians, as we all know. Far too many atrocities have been committed over the centuries in the name of religion, and people are only too happy to enumerate them online.

Tarico’s fourth Internet phenomenon was “supportive communities for people coming out of religion”. For years, people would lose the faith – whatever faith that was – but they’d keep it quiet. But with the rise of the Internet comes the ability to create a Web site or write a blog, and, with the right search terms, have it come up easily in a Google search. So now, there are virtual communities of former believers of just about every religion.

Finally, Tarico pointed out what she called the “lifestyles of the fine and faithless”. I’ve sometimes said that “religion is how you live your life”, and I know I’m not alone. And there are resources available for those who have decided that they are atheists, secular humanists, or what have you. Between these resources and inspirational stories of avowed atheists who are living moral lives, it’s very possible for folks who fell away from a faith tradition to raise their children in such a way that they don’t need to go to Sunday school. They’ll turn out just fine without ever darkening the doorway of a church.

Of course, it’s been said that it takes a village to raise a child, and we went out of our way last year to bring in a Director of Lifespan Faith Development, Robin Slaw, to lead our own children (and us) in the discovery and enrichment of our own faith. Would these religious dropouts benefit from coming here and participating? I know Robin thinks so, and I think most of us would agree. But is it necessary? Many of us take a break from attending services because we need one. Likewise, many drop away from organized religion simply because they need a time-out. With all the Internet resources available to the no-longer-believing or the church-weary, religion may not seem necessary.

Except that, as any of us who have spent time online knows, the Internet can be very impersonal. And that is exactly why I believe religion will never die.

At the end of her article, Valerie Tarico quotes Jim Gilliam, a one-time fundamentalist and follower of Jimmy Falwell. Over a period of several years, he underwent a bone marrow transplant and then a double lung transplant. In the process, he came to a different understanding of the divine. In a talk in June 2011 entitled The Internet Is My Religion, Gilliam says, “God is just what happens when humanity is connected. Humanity connected is God.”

Amen.

Allow me a short flight of fantasy here. I’m talking a really short flight, a puddle-jumper. That’s it, a puddle-jumper of fantasy. I’m on my way home from today’s service, and I stop at a 7-Eleven for a snack. I’m on the checkout line, stuck behind someone who wasn’t sure which scratch-off lottery tickets she wanted to buy (because she didn’t hit last night’s $338 million Powerball drawing either). Standing next to me on the line is a very attractive lady who looks like she also just came from church. We strike up a conversation, and I say that I just came from church too. She scratches her head when I tell her that I’m a Unitarian Universalist. When I start explaining what that means, she asks, “So you don’t believe in God?” I reply, “Of course I believe in God. And I believe I’m looking right at her.” And that’s more than just a pick-up line. It’s what I believe: Each of us is a manifestation of the divine.

People have been gathering in worship for untold millennia. Jewish law requires a gathering of ten for a proper service, but any number can come together to celebrate the wonder and mystery of life. A church is a community of believers. And man is a social animal – as proven by the success not only of churches and social clubs, but also of online services such as Facebook.

From 1993 to 2005, I was a member of America Online. I’m sure many of you remember AOL from before it became just another Web site. There was a computer writer named Robin Williams who, in a book she published around 1996, quoted someone who said, “A nerd is someone who thinks CompuServe is a dating service.” She went on to say, “Of course, everyone who’s really cool knows that America Online is the real dating service.”

When I was active on AOL, we members were only identified by our screen names. We never even got to see pictures of each other unless we sent them by e-mail. Naturally, this was subject to the same abuses then as it is now: people could create any persona they desired and find a picture to go along with it. (Ask Manti Te’o about that.) As a result, many of us system users tried to “keep it real” by getting together at in-person “bashes” at restaurants, clubs, etc. They were like reunions, even if some folks were meeting in person for the first time. They gave us a chance to put faces to names – and probably inspired Facebook, where people post profile pictures in a way they couldn’t on AOL. When you’re posting and commenting on Facebook, you’re connecting with your friends even if you’re not there in person.

But despite the tendency I’ve observed for people to go to restaurants and never put their phones down because they’re in a hot game of Words with Friends, Facebook also encourages in-person interaction. People schedule events and rally the troops to attend, whether it’s an impromptu reunion of high school buddies, a fund-raiser for their Scout troop, or a gathering of people who want to visit all the covered bridges in Lehigh County. Personal interaction is important – and it’s a function that religion has provided for centuries. And despite the declines in organized religion’s numbers, as people shake off the shackles of illogical or nonsensical belief systems, people are still going to have a need to get together. And that’s what religion is – a binding together.

Indeed, Brian Wheeler of the BBC posted something in early February about a new enterprise in north London called the Sunday Assembly. They meet in a former church building, but they’re not really a church, at least in the traditional sense. On one Sunday, over 300 crowded into the building for what their leader, Sanderson Jones, called “part foot-stomping show, part atheist church, all celebration of life.” They sang along to songs from Stevie Wonder and Queen, heard a reading from Alice in Wonderland, and witnessed a PowerPoint presentation about the origins of antimatter theory.

Wheeler wrote, “The audience, overwhelmingly young, white and middle class, appear excited to be part of something new and speak of the void they felt on a Sunday morning when they decided to abandon their Christian faith. Few actively identify themselves as atheists.” He quoted a photographer who said, “It’s a nice excuse to get together and have a bit of a community spirit but without the religion aspect. It’s not a church. It’s a congregation of unreligious people.” Another attendee told Wheeler, “I think people need that sense of connectedness because everyone is so singular right now, and to be part of something, and to feel like you are part of something. That’s what people are craving in the world.” An architect said, “It will become an organised religion. It’s inevitable. A belief system will set in. There will be a structure, an ethical outlook on life.”

So perhaps this is the future of religion. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Who knows, maybe we can be a part of this revolution. Most of today’s religions have charitable arms or social action initiatives, a reason to participate for more than just an hour on Sunday morning. The Unitarians and Universalists have been around for centuries, and we have these structures in place – and we create new ones, such as last year’s formation of the Bergen UU Relief Group. But religious communities also give us a time to catch up with friends, participate as a community, and perhaps hear something you can take with you from whoever is occupying the pulpit that day.

In her blog entry last weekend, Vicki Weinstein emphasized that there is a way for congregations to better engage us during Sunday worship. We just have to think outside the box. Thanks to recent innovations like our wonderful CUC House Band and services conducted by our Youth Group, I trust that we are moving in the right direction. We are slowly but surely positioning ourselves to be a post-Internet religious community.

And there’s nothing saying that other religions will vanish into the ether, although they too will almost surely have to adjust to keep up with the times. Perhaps our Roman Catholic neighbors have taken baby steps in that direction with their recent election of a leader who seems more focused on the greater mission of the church than on the trappings of his office.

Today is Palm Sunday, which opens the holiest week in the Christian calendar. The last days of Jesus’ ministry are being recounted today in churches worldwide, culminating in next week’s celebration of Easter. Holy Week is timed to the Jewish feast of Passover, which begins tomorrow night, and we at CUC will be hosting our own Seder tomorrow to retell the tale of the oppression endured by our religious forebears centuries ago. These are great stories with lessons for all of us. Just like our Unitarian and Universalist history that is often retold from this pulpit, or the secular history of the wars and struggles that shaped us as a nation and a world, these ancient religious stories should never be forgotten.

That said, I have to confess, there is a lot of time during the year when I don’t really need CUC. I do enough socializing outside of church. Many of you know that I have a lot of outside activities, including game operations work for various sporting events. I have one specific community that’s very important to me, and that’s the Rutherford Little League baseball and softball program. This is my 33rd season working with the League in an administrative role, and as I say all the time, I’m not married but I have over 600 kids. (And the best part is, I don’t have to feed them, clothe them, or take them home at night!) Our season opens in 13 days, and I’ve been working with the rest of our leaders to make sure we get off to a smooth start. Our board of directors is another tight-knit 19-member subset of the greater society, a lot like a local congregation within a denomination – or a Covenant Circle within a congregation.

When it comes to attending church, I can use the same argument I used about not joining Facebook before I took the plunge 3½ years ago: I do my social networking at the ballpark. And my participation at CUC will vary inversely with the temperature. But it’s wonderful to have a home like this to come back to, a place where people greet you with a smile whether you’re a newcomer, a devoted weekly attendee, or a prodigal son. It’s like Cheers, the bar in the TV series that generated the theme song John Freund sang a few moments ago: a place “where everybody knows your name and they’re always glad you came.”

So even as organized religion runs head-on into societal pressures and the need to cram even more stuff into our busy weeks, religion will never die. Whenever two or three of us come together, no matter whether it’s at church on a Sunday morning or at our kids’ soccer game or at a gathering of old friends, God is with us. We may not take the time, or have the time or the inclination, to call it God, but that doesn’t change the fundamental truth. To paraphrase Pogo, I have met the divine and it is us. God is with us, God is in us, God is us.

Keep that in mind this week, as you balance work and shopping and making dinner and shuttling the kids to school and dance class and lacrosse practice. Your boss, the people you supervise, the supermarket clerk, your children’s teachers, coaches, classmates and teammates – as New York Telephone used to say, “We’re all connected.” And through this wonderful and scary thing called the Internet, we’re connected to more of our fellow human beings than ever before. Each of the seven billion of us on this planet has inherent worth and dignity, because we all contain that divine spark. And we’re all part of that larger, interdependent web of existence. We can all hear the sun and fly with the geese.

If you look at the word “interdependent”, you’ll find the word “Internet” in there. I doubt that was intentional, but even if it’s an accident, it’s a happy one. My Facebook feed may be filled at times with potentially divisive political screeds along with memes from both right and left, but there’s no denying that the Internet has connected more people than at any time in the history of the world. We have seen the Net, and online services, be a force for good both here and abroad. Not only have the more questionable features of organized religion been exposed, but so have numerous social injustices, leading in some cases to the overthrow of regimes. The Net is so powerful that some political leaders censor it for fear that their people will learn the truth – an attempt to establish the same closed information system that religions did many years ago.

But it’s too late. We’re all connected. At one point in Jim Gilliam’s speech two years ago, he said, “Each one of us is a creator, but together we are The Creator.” And he wrapped up his twelve-minute sermon with the lines, “I have faith in people. I believe in God. And the Internet is my religion.”

Works for me.


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