Has the worldwide suspension of normal life started to seem normal to you yet? It will do at some point. For me, it’s still feeling strange, though less so than when we began. Outings to the shops, or for exercise, expose us to the full strangeness, allowing us to become slowly accustomed to it. In this way, our minds adapt to a new reality. And as we get a handle on the new reality, this touches our beliefs. Coronavirus is challenging and changing our faith.
Big changes in our way of life have always produced a shift in what we believe. Some Sociologists of Religion believe that religion inevitably declines in modernising societies. This is known as the Secularisation Thesis. But many sociologists think differently. Belief, they argue, is actually shaped by factors such as large-scale migration, new patterns of living, and the accompanying threats to our sense of identity. In short, great change leads to a spiritual surge.
This explains the religious revivals at the time of the Industrial Revolution. It’s a phenomenon that’s been observed more recently in the rapid industrialisation of South Korea, where churches are packed. That’s one reason why I’m so optimistic about the prospects for spiritual and religious renewal in the UK. We’re living in a changing world, with high levels of migration, so expect more and more people to start looking for spiritual ways to explain and manage their existence.
And don’t be surprised if your own religious assumptions are being put through a stress test at the moment. I can’t be the only person who has recently asked myself: ‘Has my faith got what it takes?’
In a crisis we need our beliefs to give us meaning, purpose, and hope, and to be credible. We’re asking if our faith is adequate for this new world we've all stepped into, and in this process, some beliefs will be abandoned, adopted, and refined.
It’s helpful to be able to distinguish different ways in which belief changes during a crisis. Let’s use belief in God as an example.
Someone might say that, since this crisis, they still believe in God, but not as much as they did before. They used to be 95% sure that God exists, now they’re only 50% sure. That’s a change in their certainty of just one belief - that God exists. But sometimes a change in faith is not a matter of how much we believe something, but how many propositions, related to our faith, we still believe. So maybe we still believe in the existence of God, but we’re starting to doubt whether this God loves us, or is even interested in what we do and think. Some will be saying: ‘I still believe in God, but not as much as I used to,’ when what they really mean is, ’I believe that God exists as much as ever, but my ideas about what God is like have changed’.
That our beliefs should be shaken and re-evaluated is to be expected. But don’t expect it to be all in one direction. Crises strengthen faith as much as they weaken it.
There’s a faulty assumption behind the notion that suffering destroys belief. In ‘The Problem of Pain’, C.S. Lewis points out that the world’s religions have been practiced for millenia ‘in a world without anesthesia.’ He wrote these words in 1940, conscious that for many of his readers, the problem of reconciling pain and suffering with faith was far from abstract, and was about to become acute.
Lewis was countering the idea that modern people lose their faith because they are more aware than their ancestors of all the pain and suffering in the world. In truth, it’s only relatively recently, and in certain parts of the world, that pain, suffering, and death have ceased to be woven into the everyday consciousness of humans. Our planet isn’t secular, only those countries where the chances of experiencing pain and an early death are the lowest.
Faith does seem to be related to the amount of danger and insecurity in a person’s life. It has to be equal to all the circumstances of our lives. So, when our lives change as dramatically as they have now, of course we ask ourselves: ‘Is my faith still fit for purpose?’
This isn't a problem, it's an opportunity.
Now is the time to get off the fence and face some critical issues. What are we on this planet for? Are we merely the product of a series of random processes, or is there some sort of intelligence behind the universe? Is morality something that humans have invented, or is it somehow part of the deepest layer of existence?
It is impossible for us to be truly alive unless we are able to ask and answer the most important questions. But that doesn’t mean having all the answers. We all need to get off and on the fence. Off the fence for the questions that matter, and waste no more energy on wrestling with the questions that don’t.
Jesus kept running into people who were agonizing over how to follow God’s law. He cut through all that, saying:
“‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”
He went on to make it clear that our ‘neighbour’ is not limited to the same street, family, nationality or religion.
In your heart of hearts, you know what matters and what doesn’t. One day when this is all over we can debate the finer points of theology, but right now, we need to get to the core. Whatever your beliefs, you need to be able to boil them down to what really matters, so that you can act on them. So if your faith is undergoing a stress test, don’t be overwhelmed by the complexity of religious options. Listen to your heart. Faith is challenging and profound, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be simple.
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