National Catholic Reporter
 
 
 
 
 
Review: How the West Really Lost God, Part  1



 
 
 
_Michael Sean  Winters_ (http://ncronline.org/authors/michael-sean-winters) 
  |  July 2,  2013 




    
Mary Eberstadt has written an important book. 
How the West Really Lost God is also a frustrating book. 
While Eberstadt's central thesis is provocative and causes us to think 
about  secularization in new and interesting ways, the book also evidences a 
disturbing  trend in academia in which professors, like MSNBC or Fox News 
anchors, only  speak with people who already agree with them. The result is a 
book that could  have been better if Eberstadt had thought to allow herself to 
be challenged,  rather than confirmed, in her biases. 
The central thesis of the book is simply stated and immediately 
recognizable  as a significant contribution to the discussion of 
secularization: 
"[This book's] argument, in brief, is that the Western record  suggests 
that family decline is not merely a consequence of religious  decline, as 
conventional thinking has understood that relationship. It also is  plausible 
-- 
and, I will argue, appears to be true -- that family decline in  turn helps 
to power religious decline." (Emphasis in original)
 
In short, while many scholars have agreed that lower levels of religiosity  
result in smaller families, Eberstadt wonders if the causal relationship 
between  family life and religion is not a two-way street, or a 
"double-helix," as she  suggests, in which it is the experience of family life 
itself that 
invites  greater levels of religious devotion in Western culture. 
Before presenting her argument in its full expression, Eberstadt considers  
other theses about the causes of secularization. She does so for the most 
part  critically but sympathetically. The tour of contemporary literature on  
secularization that Eberstadt brings the reader on spans several chapters 
and is  well worth the time in part because she is never dismissive of 
others' findings  and tries, with varying degrees of success, to address the 
issues these other  theorists raise. 
For example, she acknowledges the insight of British sociologist Grace 
Davie  that even while Europeans today are less religiously observant than 
their 
 forebears, they still pay taxes to fund their churches, tend to identify 
as  Christians no matter whether they attend church services, and seem to 
like the  values Christianity proposes, even if they can't or don't live up to 
those  values. And Europeans, like many Americans, insist they are spiritual 
even if  they are not religious. But Eberstadt also cautions that such 
observations do  not obstruct the brute fact that in Europe, religion has 
declined, not merely  morphed, and that much of the morphing involves the 
abandonment of key Christian  ideas in favor of "nebulous forms of 
'spirituality' " 
that lead Eberstadt to  bracing questions: "How many doctrinal particulars 
can be jettisoned before any  given individual can fairly be called un- or 
even anti-Christian, un- or  antireligious? At what point would St. Paul, say, 
find this modern syncretic  'Christianity' altogether unrecognizable?" 
Eberstadt confronts the secularization theory that "people stopped needing  
the imaginary comforts of religion," a meme that is especially popular with 
 atheists old and new. She acknowledges that the Christian religion 
promises  eternal life and that "the promise of more life is a weighty 
consolation" 
and  therefore attractive. "But that attractiveness," she writes, "... is 
outweighed  by something that those who think along these lines have not 
thought to  emphasize, because it undermines their argument, namely, the heavy 
stings  attached to that same offer of ultimate salvation, as verified by a 
quick  checklist of Judeo-Christianity's other and profoundly burdensome 
claims on  those same individuals." Here, the reader begins to get suspicious. 
The  observation Eberstadt makes is spot-on, but there is no such thing as  
"Judeo-Christianity" outside of conservative political talking points, and 
the  word "checklist" betrays a strange, and uniquely modern, understanding of 
the  nature of faith claims. 
The suspicions only grow when, a few pages later, Eberstadt confronts the  
thesis that Christianity has weakened in the West because of our growing  
prosperity, what she deems the "fat-and-happy argument." She notes that  
sociological data actually demonstrate that people who are wealthier tend to be 
 
more, not less, religiously observant. She also notes that Christianity did 
just  fine amidst the opulence of ancient Rome and Renaissance Florence and 
in many of  today's wealthy U.S. suburbs. And she notes that religious 
observance in the  U.S. remains significantly higher than in Europe despite our 
comparative levels  of material prosperity. 
All of this is undeniably true. It is also undeniably true that the Gospel 
is  good news for the poor, and so perhaps at a deeper cultural level, our 
wealthy  ears have trouble hearing it anymore or twist it to make it more 
palatable. The  other night, I watched the movie "Auntie Mame," in which Dwight 
Babcock of the  Knickerbocker bank pledges to "make a decent, God-fearing 
Christian out of this  boy [young Patrick] if I have to break every bone in 
his body." Babcock was, of  course, a bigot, a banker, and mean to boot. Yet, 
for how many people, such as  the fictional Babcock, is religion a sign of 
social propriety covering a  multitude of sins, with little or nothing to do 
with the Gospel? 
Eberstadt's biases unfortunately are found throughout the book and they  
obscure, not help, her core thesis. For example, she writes on page 16,  
"Alternatively, as the state has expanded to take on duties once shouldered  
instead by those nearest and dearest, the incentives to do the hard work of  
keeping a family together have increasingly elicited the tacit response, why  
bother? ... In this way, once can argue, the expanded social welfare state  
competes with the family as the dominant protector of the individual -- in 
the  process undercutting the power of the family itself." Here is standard 
neo-con  fare, but it involves a leap in logic and an ignorance of history. 
The causal  connection between the growth of the welfare state and the decline 
in family  life is asserted, not proven. And the welfare state was not 
intended to destroy  the family, but to meet needs that actual families were 
incapable of meeting.  Certainly the vast advances in modern medicine would be 
out of reach for most  family budgets, and not every family has a doctor 
capable of performing heart  surgery, or a team of nurses to help with 
recuperation. 
On pages 109ff, Eberstadt examines historical studies of the decline of the 
 family and religiosity in 18th-century France and 19th-century Britain. 
These  studies illustrate the link between family and religion, to be sure, 
but they  undercut one of the dominant memes of the book, that everything went 
to hell in  the 1960s. On page 131, she titles a subsection thus: "The 
Family Factor helps  explain something that comes up repeatedly in the 
scholarly 
literature, which is  the mystery of why 1960 or thereabouts is such a 
pivotal year in  secularization." So between p. 109 and p. 131, the earlier 
centuries are  forgotten? Surely those earlier studies of earlier centuries 
should invite a bit  of scholarly humility before making assertions about the 
uniqueness of the  present moment. 
The most problematic, and unfortunately emblematic, of Eberstadt's chapters 
 is chapter 6, in which she blames doctrinal laxness in mainstream 
Protestantism  for creating "Assisted Religious Suicide." I am no fan of 
mainstream  
Protestantism, to be sure, but it is as obvious to me as day that the 
problem  with religion in America, a problem that attaches to Eberstadt as much 
as to  mainstream Protestantism, is that it reduces religion to ethics. For 
the left,  the reduction boils down into social justice. For the right, it 
boils down into  sexual Jansenism. In both cases, what was lost long before 
the 1960s was the  idea that the Christian religion is fundamentally about a 
series of outrageous  claims about the supernatural, based upon the 
revelation of Jesus Christ. This  had to be set aside as a consequence of the 
Reformation, which was not a secular  event. In America, the necessity of 
living in 
a pluralist society has forced  religion into this role of an ethical 
authority since the Founding. When  preachers stopped preaching the empty tomb 
of 
Jesus Christ, that is when the  laity, who came seeking the living, found 
themselves amongst the dead.
 
--------------
 
 
 
 
Review: How the West Really Lost God,  Part 2



 
 
 
_Michael Sean  Winters_ (http://ncronline.org/authors/michael-sean-winters) 
  |  July 3,  2013 




    
As I related yesterday, Eberstadt spends fully half the book examining  
alternate theories of secularization, critically but sympathetically for the  
most part, but her treatment of the subject is uneven. And, having set the 
table  so unevenly, one is not surprised to find that the entrée is served 
before the  soup, or that the pasta needs salt. 
It is in Chapter 7 that Eberstadt lays out her central thesis, which, as  
explained yesterday, is this: 
[This book’s] argument, in brief, is that the Western record suggests  that 
family decline is not merely a consequence of religious decline, as  
conventional thinking has understood that relationship. It also is plausible –  
and, I will argue, appears to be true that family decline in turn helps to  
power religious decline.
 
This is an important insight, not least because no one has made the 
argument  previously. Determining causality in broad sociological trends is 
always  
difficult, and Eberstadt is at pains not to overstate her case. But, she 
need  not hold back. 
She notes that for many people, the experience of childbirth itself is an  
experience that tends to lead a mother and father to think in more 
transcendent  terms. People use words like “transcendent,” and “ethereal,” and “
magical” to  describe the event. (N.B. My dear, departed mother was not one of 
them. Having  been awake through the birth of my sister, when it came time 
for me to be born  she instructed the doctor, “Knock me out at the first pain 
and wake me up when  the hairdresser shows.”) Eberstadt notes that the 
primordial familial  relationship is a central theme in humanity’s artistic 
record, and how  violations of the norms of family life make for the best 
tragedies, from Medea  to Lear to Michelangelo’s Pieta, which captures what for 
most people is the most  horrific of human events, the death of a child. “Thus 
does a complementary  religious anthropology begin to emerge, grounded on 
the primal fact that the  mother-child and father-child bond, as no other, 
appears to push at least some  people toward an intensity of purposeful 
connection with the divine that they  might never otherwise have experienced,” 
she 
writes. 
Perhaps the most compelling section of the book is found on pp 160ff., in  
which Eberstadt points out that the link between familial and religious 
decline  might have a lot to do with the fact that the Christian story is 
itself 
brought  to us in familial garb. “Like it or not, the Judeo-Christian 
tradition has  anthropomorphized the Deity in one particular way: by analogy to 
a 
wise,  protective, loving, ever-present male parent. The fact that many 
children, in an  age of broken or unformed natural families, do not associate 
those adjectives  with their male biological parent makes for elemental, 
ongoing confusion and  heartache among some of the subjects of the 
Marquardt/Glenn study [which she had  previously cited].” 
In these same pages she also makes the obvious, but often overlooked, point 
 that “People do not like to be told that they are wrong, or that those 
whom they  love have done wrong.” Surely, the cult of self-esteem can, and 
should, always  and everywhere be exposed as a profoundly anti-Christian 
project. The Gospel  call to chastity may stir some hearts and the Gospel call 
to 
charity may stir  others, but if the Gospel call is robbed of the call to 
repentance, it is no  longer the Christian Gospel. I do wish Eberstadt had 
spent more time on the  effects of urbanization on the family, which she 
acknowledges far too briefly.  This, as well as the emergence of a spread-eagle 
capitalism that accompanied  urbanization, is a bigger part of this tale than 
Eberstadt lets on. 
Having stated her thesis, the frustrations with Eberstadt’s crimped moral  
compass and predictable neo-con asides, only mount. For example, on page 170 
she  cites Charles Murray (always a dangerous proposition) and W. Bradford 
Wilcox in  their work correlating economic well-being with traditional 
family structures.  No one can doubt the link, but here Eberstadt’s 
praiseworthy 
willingness to see  causation as a two-way street ceases: She moves on to 
the horrible social  consequences of the phenomenon without pausing to think 
that maybe poverty, and  the pathologies that accompany it, may cause family 
break-ups to be more  frequent. 
On page 172, Eberstadt makes the case that “the spread of non-traditional  
families further weakens the traditional family in another way: because  
nontraditional and antitraditional families encourage skepticism and even  
mockery of the notion that the traditional family is a legitimate norm.” I  
suspect that the mockery is confined to the professoriate, who tend to inflate  
the importance of their analysis in any event. But, Eberstadt’s very next  
sentence demonstrates her neo-con bias in all its unchristian vigor: “Some do 
so  inadvertently – as when, say, the sheer volume of fatherless homes 
leads people  to treat all families with moral equivalence for the sake of 
politesse.” Really?  I find that “for the sake of politesse” comment very ugly. 
Might it not be that  many people approach such tragic phenomenon as 
fatherless homes with a strong  sense of compassion and are not willing to kick 
a 
fatherless family when they  are down, still less to prove a point? 
I note in passing that on page 173 Eberstadt writes that the fundamental  
story of Christianity is “the creation of the Son of God as man,” which 
happens  to be a heresy. “Genitum, not factum,” as the Creed says. 
Eberstadt correctly notes the plight of the black family in America, and 
the  controversy surrounding the Moynihan Report back in 1965, and how the 
situation  has only gotten worse since then. She is correct, indeed, that this 
is a huge  societal problem. But, black Americans also continue to register 
the highest  rates of religiosity in the country. At the very least, 
Eberstadt needed to stop  the gloom-and-doom scenario for a moment and wrestle 
with 
this fact. 
There is something prim, and as I say, crimped about Eberstadt’s view of 
the  Christian faith. She writes, “The point of being a Christian is to save 
one’s  soul and to get to heaven. Many tests and requirements might be 
involved along  one’s earthly path to that ultimate goal – good works, 
attendance 
in church, the  practicing of virtues and the resisting of vices, and so.” 
Not a word about  love. This is the neo-con problem, and a large part of the 
reason for religious  decline. The face of Christianity in America is too 
often a scolding,  finger-wagging prelate or minister or, in Eberstadt’s 
case, intellectual. Or our  understanding of Christianity is too wedded to a 
set 
of neo-con understandings  (“politesse”!) that lack natural, let alone 
supernatural, empathy. Not once in  this important book does Eberstadt really 
come close to the heart of  Christianity and its social relevance which was 
captured, as well as by anyone,  in Balthasar’s observation: Only love is 
credible. This is the secret of Pope  Francis, is it not? In word and gesture, 
he reminds us that God loves us by  showing that he loves us. I suspect that 
in the fight with secularism, it will  be the image of Pope Francis next 
week, acquiring the smell of the sheep when he  visits Lampedusa and communes 
with the immigrants there, many of them  non-Catholics, it is that image for 
which secularism has no answer. I do not  know Eberstadt, so I do not know 
what she and her friends at the Ethics and  Public Policy Center really 
think of Pope Francis. But, if they are not made  uncomfortable by him, they 
are 
not paying attention. He makes me uncomfortable  every day, uncomfortable 
and excited to be a  Catholic.

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