We clergy tend to keep a few one-liners around for those moments we encounter most often, and one of my favorites is “how’s that working out for you?”
When people come to me with struggles or issues, or they’re telling me about their non-churchy lives, the phrase “how’s that working out for you?” gives people a chance to be open and honest about their lives and struggles. Sometimes, that simple question, asked with kindness and curiosity, will jolt people into realizing that their current strategy for dealing with life’s hardships isn’t working.
I’m not the only one to ask this pointed question. In the 1980 presidential election, Ronald Reagan asked a similar question to America during the single debate he had with Jimmy Carter. “Are you better off now than you were four years ago?” That moment was hailed as the torpedo that sunk Carter’s campaign, a jolt that brought many Americans to believe that a political change of direction was needed.
Somewhere between 2010 and 2015, America ceased to be a culturally Christian nation and turned to a secular ethos en masse. By that, cultural observers mean that the de facto ethos of mainline Protestant thought ceased to be the primary culture-making influence. Many have tried to pinpoint the turning point of this trend, blaming the Obergefell Supreme Court case, the dual rise of Occupy Wall Street and the Tea Party, and the technological environment created by smartphones. Regardless of why the culture changed, there is little doubt that it has changed, changed enough that most people aged 30 and over will use language like “tectonic shift” and “whiplash” to describe it.
What does that shift look like, practically? We have all experienced the shift from a Christian-style ethic to a secular ethic, which can be summarized as the shift between the commandment “love thy neighbor as thyself” and the edict “don’t harm thy neighbor.” Those two commandments seem related, but in reality, there is a world of difference between them.
To love one’s neighbor as thyself is, ultimately, an ethos of self-negation. It puts the needs of others at the same level as personal needs. One is required to be in close contact with their neighbors, whether that’s the workplace, the kid’s school, a social club or a literal neighborhood. It also involves the struggles of forgiveness and reconciliation, and befriending neighbors who are, well, complicated. These are the communities that bring each other casseroles after funerals, mow each other’s lawns when they are sick, and help each other’s kids find summer jobs.
“Don’t harm thy neighbor,” by contrast, is an ethic of individualism and isolation, because to accomplish this goal is to simply leave thy neighbor alone. “You do you” as they say. “Live and let live. Don’t judge.” As long as it doesn’t harm anyone else, especially society’s most vulnerable, then it’s fair game. The secular person, then, lives an easier life with the autonomy of lessened social obligations, but struggles with the fact that no social obligations are set aside for them. They have no casserole deliveries, lawn mowings, or networking offers, but also, nobody is making them casseroles, mowing their lawns, or networking on their behalf.
The problem with a secular ethic is that human beings were made for connection and mutual care, and that’s true whether you believe in Darwin or Genesis. It’s how we were created, or, similarly, how we evolved to survive, but a secular ethic works against our divine image or evolutionary heritage. Many in the secular world are beginning to ask “how are things working out for us?,” and coming to disappointing conclusions.
You see it in major publications. Agnostic writers like Derek Thompson in The Atlantic start to acknowledge the grievous loss of the church’s social connectivity. Atheist stalwarts like Richard Dawkins proclaim their love of traditional Christmas carols and gorgeous cathedrals. You see it in the rise of anti-secular thinkers like Jordan Peterson, whose audience swells with those isolated by the secular ethic. Perhaps most surprising is the social media popularity of ’90s high school videos, digitized grainy VHS tapes that Gen Z high-schoolers are binging for hours on end. The Gen Z writer Freya India recalls the term anemoia to describe the trend, a word that means “nostalgia for something not experienced.” She says of these videos, “I have the overwhelming sense that something has been lost. Something communal, something joyous, something simple.”
What about you? From a secular, emotional and social standpoint, how are things working out for you? Do you have a close community of friends who will bring you casseroles when a loved one dies, or someone who can walk your dog for you when you’re laid up sick? Do you have people in your life who you care for, trusting that one day they’ll return the favor? Do you wonder at the past and see things that are communal, joyous and simple, and feel like you’ve missed out? If so, then, perhaps this question is enough to jolt you into finding another life solution beyond what the secular ethic has to offer.