So, thoughts on today's class. We spent the whole session discussing Bellah's famous essay, "Civil Religion and Biblical Religion" (1964). I actually thought it was a good and interesting discussion. I managed not to get too off-track in terms of being unable to finish my own sentences and so forth. My main point in bringing this up was more or less to get students to think beyond the notion of "church" religion as the only kind of religion. For some this is less of a problem than others, but it's not a simple idea and I'm not really satisfied that anyone got it. In fact I'm not completely satisfied that I get it -- or, while we're at it, that Bellah really gets it.
The point is neither to say, facilely, that if Bellah's perspective is to be taken seriously, it implies that "anything can be a religion" (similar to the point Tommy was arguing in his blog post, I think). Nor is it to say that we here in America have fetishized our nation to the point where it has become a religion in its own right. There are nuanced and interesting reasons for thinking about the parallels between what we typically call "religion" and what Bellah is calling "the civil religion": both possess foundational myths, they inculcate certain values, they are embodied both in long-lived institutions and in charismatic leader figures; they recreate themselves calendrically in holidays and ritually in various formalized observances; they involve a fine-grained, articulated symbolic language... Et cetera. And, I think, maybe most importantly, both American Protestant Christianity, in its most typical form at least (and indeed, most forms of Christianity in the form that we are used to encountering them in) and the American civil religion as Bellah sees it, focus adherents' minds on a transcendent entity, namely, either God or America. Blasphemy? Maybe, but maybe not. This is a thorny point too because of course Bellah makes God a cornerstone of American civil religion, but it seems to me you could have something very similar without even a concept of God -- but you would need a concept of the American nation for it to work. And like the concept of God in many Protestant denominations, the concept "America" is invisible, bound up with ideals and values, simultaneously emotionally charged, hard to define, shared, and deeply personal. Seen this way, the flag is a sacred symbolic object; the Pledge of Allegiance and the national anthem are liturgical in character; Arlington Cemetary is hallowed ground; Lincoln is a martyr saint; and Thanksgiving is a solemn feastday. Et cetera.
So what's the big deal? To me, anyhow, as I stumblingly tried to explain to Erica this afternoon, this was an exciting discovery when I was a college student. It meant that the world was not as disenchanted as I had been led to believe. "Religion," seen through this kind of lens, wasn't something you either believed in or didn't; rather, it was something that was all around you, whether you liked it or not. Even more than this, you couldn't really choose whether to believe in it or not; up to a point, sure you could, but the kind of religion Bellah is talking about is something that is actually woven deeply into the fabric of any community's day-to-day life. Even if you reject it, in a way, you're affirming its importance. Similarly to this, I think that someone who loudly claims to be an atheist is implicitly saying that it really matters whether a God exists or not. Someone who's never heard of God can't be an atheist; an atheist needs a concept of God as a starting point. Seen another way, then, an atheist can't help but talk about God every time he discusses his atheism. A nonexistent God, sure, but he's talking about God nonetheless. The discourse of God has established the conceptual framework in which the atheist is working out his view of things. Even more so, then, the American civil religion establishes, to some extent, the language that Americans speak when they -- we -- talk about national identity, even while criticizing it. Americans may disagree over what it means to be a "good" American, but most of them do agree that there is such a thing as "being a good American." Unlike, say, being a good Pennsylvanian, which would be a relatively nonsensical concept. I've never heard of a Pennsylvanian civil religion.
Okay, now I'm rambling. That's enough for tonight. Most important thing for the next couple days: come up with some simple way of getting people feedback on their blogs and informal writings. Blackboard won't work, I'm afraid. I'll have to figure something out.
The point is neither to say, facilely, that if Bellah's perspective is to be taken seriously, it implies that "anything can be a religion" (similar to the point Tommy was arguing in his blog post, I think). Nor is it to say that we here in America have fetishized our nation to the point where it has become a religion in its own right. There are nuanced and interesting reasons for thinking about the parallels between what we typically call "religion" and what Bellah is calling "the civil religion": both possess foundational myths, they inculcate certain values, they are embodied both in long-lived institutions and in charismatic leader figures; they recreate themselves calendrically in holidays and ritually in various formalized observances; they involve a fine-grained, articulated symbolic language... Et cetera. And, I think, maybe most importantly, both American Protestant Christianity, in its most typical form at least (and indeed, most forms of Christianity in the form that we are used to encountering them in) and the American civil religion as Bellah sees it, focus adherents' minds on a transcendent entity, namely, either God or America. Blasphemy? Maybe, but maybe not. This is a thorny point too because of course Bellah makes God a cornerstone of American civil religion, but it seems to me you could have something very similar without even a concept of God -- but you would need a concept of the American nation for it to work. And like the concept of God in many Protestant denominations, the concept "America" is invisible, bound up with ideals and values, simultaneously emotionally charged, hard to define, shared, and deeply personal. Seen this way, the flag is a sacred symbolic object; the Pledge of Allegiance and the national anthem are liturgical in character; Arlington Cemetary is hallowed ground; Lincoln is a martyr saint; and Thanksgiving is a solemn feastday. Et cetera.
So what's the big deal? To me, anyhow, as I stumblingly tried to explain to Erica this afternoon, this was an exciting discovery when I was a college student. It meant that the world was not as disenchanted as I had been led to believe. "Religion," seen through this kind of lens, wasn't something you either believed in or didn't; rather, it was something that was all around you, whether you liked it or not. Even more than this, you couldn't really choose whether to believe in it or not; up to a point, sure you could, but the kind of religion Bellah is talking about is something that is actually woven deeply into the fabric of any community's day-to-day life. Even if you reject it, in a way, you're affirming its importance. Similarly to this, I think that someone who loudly claims to be an atheist is implicitly saying that it really matters whether a God exists or not. Someone who's never heard of God can't be an atheist; an atheist needs a concept of God as a starting point. Seen another way, then, an atheist can't help but talk about God every time he discusses his atheism. A nonexistent God, sure, but he's talking about God nonetheless. The discourse of God has established the conceptual framework in which the atheist is working out his view of things. Even more so, then, the American civil religion establishes, to some extent, the language that Americans speak when they -- we -- talk about national identity, even while criticizing it. Americans may disagree over what it means to be a "good" American, but most of them do agree that there is such a thing as "being a good American." Unlike, say, being a good Pennsylvanian, which would be a relatively nonsensical concept. I've never heard of a Pennsylvanian civil religion.
Okay, now I'm rambling. That's enough for tonight. Most important thing for the next couple days: come up with some simple way of getting people feedback on their blogs and informal writings. Blackboard won't work, I'm afraid. I'll have to figure something out.
1 comment:
I wasn't arguing so much that ANYTHING could be a religion, as I was arguing that I didn't think Bellah had adequately defined one, or shown that I should definitely think of it in religious terms. I DO concede that there might be such a thing, especially concerning the belief in an "America", which I think Bellah would have been apt to place as the main focus, instead of the already "taken" aspect of god. However, I believe it needs a much more conclusive definition and attention to the arguments surrounding it. I must say the way you put it is already more convincing. The "fabric of society" argument is intriguing, and I think of significant worth for further exploration.
Post a Comment