As I See American Religion

I was speaking to one of my friends today. We were having breakfast as we do every Wednesday morning, and the subject of materialism came up. Materialism, for those of you who may not know, is both a formal philosophical position and a practical attitude. Philosophers who are materialists hold that the only thing which exists is the material world of space, time, matter and energy. The opposite of this are the spiritualists who either believe that the material world is a hallucination and all that exists is a spiritual realm or that both the material and the spiritual realms exist, but that, in general, the spiritual is to be preferred over the material. These are philosophically formal positions but there exists, in addition, a practical and religious element to materialist. In fact, I would argue that almost all people on earth are practicing materialists.

What is the materialist religion? Like most religions it has the usual “sacred” texts, “sacred” people, and “sacred” places. In materialism the “sacred text” are the contracts upon which society rests. As the saying goes, “if it’s not in writing it’s not worth the paper it should have been written on.” Economics dominates the sacred text of these contracts and the faith one has in the contracts, and the quality of the contracts determines how high one rises in the hierarchy of the religion. Interpreters of the text are lawyers. They are the theologians, constantly splitting hairs over mundane topics, often using archaic and technical terminology. They bless any union and negotiate any divide. They write the texts, interpret the texts, and destroy the texts, as they see fit. But they are not the only “sacred people” of the materialist religion.

Along with the legal high priests there are those who handle the worth of the individual, helping he or she to move up, or sometimes down, the religious hierarchy. They are, of course, “financial advisors,” materialist pastors who, along with the materialist theologians, lay claim to the magic of increasing your worth for a few pennies a day from their temples of stone.

And where are those temples of stone? Look at just about any bank of notable worth, look at its main building and see the heavy stone pillars. Pillars of the church of the materialist they are. Go into the bank and sit down on the heavenly seats, see the gold, the inlaid wood. Opulence like not other buildings on earth, except perhaps the office of Merrill Lynch and all those who believe they can bring you security trough a balanced portfolio and wise investing. Offerings taken by the transaction.

And if you think all this just looks like a church, consider just how sacred the subject of your worth. It’s measured in nickels and dimes but only by those who strictly “need to know.” To everybody else you can look like you too are a pillar of conspicuous capitalism. Only your bank needs to know.

And which is the more polite question: “What is your sexual orientation” or “How much do you make?” We have no problem encouraging person to “come out of the closet” but try having a group of men openly discuss how much they make and how much debt they have, and you will get no takers. It’s too personal. Faith is like that.

And, as if you really needed more, ask yourself this: why exactly can an American dollar buy a dozen eggs (more or less). I mean, think of it. It’s just paper. Why can’t I take a nice piece of copy paper and write a note for my grocer stating that I will bring him a half pound of butter (butter is currently two dollars a pound around here), or better yet, why doesn’t the grocer just take my half pound of butter in exchange for the eggs? Certainly if you or I was stranded on a desert island we would want the butter and/or eggs over ten thousand of those pieces of paper called dollar bills. The value of the dollar bill – the confidence we place it it when we take it in exchange for those eggs, is a purely faith act. We have faith in “the Almighty Dollar” as the saying goes.

So we have faith, we have priests, we have pastors, we have temples, and we hold the measure of our souls, our worth, is something that only a few are qualified to access. But There is more.

Not only do we have these things, we also have sin. Sin, in our materialist culture, is anything which causes physical, psychological or social pain. It is not the act, but the effect of the act. Which, of course, means that the worst thing you can do to a child is cause pain – as in “spanking.” And as for prisoners, you can isolate them, refuse them entertainment, and treat them like scum, but heaven forbid if you try to actually physically punish them.

These are some of the hallmarks of the materialist religion. Someday I’ll expand on this theme and how I claim at another time.