I left religion. Should I raise my child as a Christian?

Your mileage may vary. This is the advice section.It provides a new framework for thinking through ethical dilemmas and philosophical questions. This unconventional The column is based on value pluralism, the idea that each of us holds multiple values ​​that are equally valid but often conflict with one another. Below are questions from Vox readers, condensed and edited for clarity.

I was raised an evangelical Christian and was very devout until I turned away from religion in my 20s. Now I no longer believe in the Christian doctrines I was raised with. But I think growing up that way gave me something very valuable: a springboard for spirituality and morality. I developed values ​​like kindness and charity, and was able to help others even when it was inconvenient.

Now I’m pregnant with my first child, and I’m worried how I’ll be able to instill morality in my child if I don’t have a platform for him. Should we raise our children as Christians, even if we no longer actually believe in Christianity, and let them figure it out over time? Or is it possible to achieve positive effects from growing up in religion without actually growing up in the religion?

Dear spiritually grounded people,

First, may I say the following? I feel you! This dilemma hits close to home for me as someone who grew up in Orthodox Judaism no longer identifies as Orthodox but still finds much value in the religious tradition. So the answer I will give you is supported not only by research (I’ll talk about history, psychology, and philosophy) but also by personal experience.

To lay my cards on the table: I do not believe that religion is necessary to live a moral life. I’m sure you know this too. Because if you think about all your friends and colleagues, you will probably realize that many of them are very nice and kind people who grew up in a worldly world. It is all proof of existence that man can be good without God.

This is the basic premise of the movement known as humanism. Its roots go back to the ancient Greeks, who emphasized the role of human rationality in finding ways to lead good and prosperous lives. However, by the Middle Ages, Greek philosophical texts had become virtually inaccessible to European Christians. European Christians believed that humans were too miserable to find good without a supernatural god.

When translations of Greek texts flooded Europe in the 14th and 15th centuries, their impact was transformative. The Renaissance was born. From scholars to popes, people gained an understanding of the human body and mind, a pride that was reflected in the art of the period (think Michelangelo’s “David”). They did not abandon their Christian faith, but began to value both faith and reason, and they developed greater confidence in the human ability to find truth and improve the world through science.

Modern humanism includes both ‘religious humanists’ and ‘secular humanists’. The former are generally atheistic. They reject the idea of ​​God intervening in human affairs. But they still find inspiration in religious rituals, the wisdom of texts, and the structure of congregational life. For example, many Unitarian Universalists fall into this category. They won’t tell you that you need Jesus to save you. But they will happily meet in church for morally uplifting sermons and songs.

Then there are the staunchly religiously unaffiliated secular humanists. Think of people like Salman Rushdie and Steven Pinker, and the 28% of Americans today who describe themselves as atheists, agnostics, or “nothing in particular.”

Both of these broad paths are valid options to consider. What unites them is the belief that “one can be good without God.”

Although there is some data to suggest that religion helps promote prosocial behavior, such as tolerance toward strangers, we also know that religious ideas and institutions sometimes promote violence against certain groups. And if you look closely, the evidence for prosocial behavior is actually quite mixed.

The link between religiosity and prosociality seems to depend largely on how these things are measured. If you measure religiosity through simple belief in God or religious self-identification, you will find that it is not a strong predictor of moral behavior. However, if we examine people’s behavior immediately after engaging in a specific religious practice (e.g., prayer), we find that they tend to be more prosocial because the practice evokes moral emotions.

too religious practice It can be an effective technique for cultivating morality. But it’s not the only one! Psychologists have discovered that we can still be moral without religion. if We establish conditions that can trigger moral emotions regularly and effectively.

One of those emotions is what they call a cat. Whether it’s Mahatma Gandhi, who led nonviolent civil disobedience, or Susan B. Anthony, who campaigned for women’s rights, it’s a great feeling of inspiration when you hear a story about someone who did something you consider truly noble. Feeling uplifted makes us want to act nobly. In other words, it induces moral behavior.

Another such emotion is awe. It’s a feeling people often feel when they encounter towering mountains or a starry night sky in nature. Reminding yourself that you are a speck in the universe takes you away from focusing on yourself and your problems. You move into what psychologists call a “small self” mindset. And that mindset makes us feel more connected to others and promotes more moral behavior.

The third emotion is gratitude. When you feel grateful for all that you have been gifted, your attention naturally turns to the source of the gift. The source is often someone else. Research has shown that expressing gratitude not only makes you want to return the favor to those who directly contributed to your happiness, but it also makes you want to be generous to people in general.

So what I would like to suggest to you is this: As your child grows, find regular ways to use uplift, awe, and gratitude to build moral character. Of course, you’re not limited to just these three, but I think they provide a great jumping-off point.

What does it look like in reality? To bring uplift, use all the wonderful children’s books about great people, real and imagined. One of my friends who improved his secular GPA Miss RumphiusThe protagonist travels the world, planting flowers wherever he goes, teaching her to be fiercely independent and fervently devoted to good causes. I’m interested in books by what I call “first women,” whether they’re about the first woman to discover a pulsar or the first woman to become a rabbi. We also recommend checking out our collection of wonderful spiritual examples from around the world.

To experience a sense of wonder, you can engage in dedicated activities such as camping trips that include hiking and stargazing. But let’s be realistic. You will be busy. So think about ways to create a sense of awe in the small spaces of everyday life, like your walk home from school. According to a study published in the journal emotion“Awe-inspiring Walks” — Take 15 minutes outside each week to see a spectacular sunset, a giant spider web, or “Wow!” This is an outdoor walk where you can see everything that will leave you amazed. — You can effectively foster a “little self” mindset.

To encourage gratitude, practice writing thank-you cards regularly with your child. You can also express gratitude for the food before you start eating. Like the prayers many religious people say before meals, there is no mention of God. Research has shown that prayer successfully generates gratitude, whether children are mentally expressing gratitude to a higher power, a teacher, or a friend.

Such practices may feel familiar from your religious upbringing. Now your project is to revamp them in a way that rings true to you. Yes, it takes some effort, but in your case it’s worth it. Because sticking to a prefabricated, ready-made religion would have serious disadvantages.

C. Thi Nguyen, a philosopher at the University of Utah, has a term for this shortcoming that I really like: This is “value capture.” This happens when a technology presents a specific way to do something and users adopt that method as a substitute for real value. Think about it: Instead of finding ways to improve your health overall, you’re obsessively logging high step counts on your Fitbit. Although prefabricated methods like these have the advantage of convenience, Nguyen reminds us that outsourcing decision-making to them can oversimplify or distort our values.

In this case, technology is religion and many people outsource all their moral thinking. But you can create custom scaffolding that supports the virtues and ideas you actually believe in. In doing so, you will honor the value of intellectual honesty while also honoring the value of effectively building your child’s moral character.

However, I would like to offer a word of caution. Prefabricated religions have major advantages. Unlike Fitbit, this is technology that has been debugged over thousands of years. The ritual has been fine-tuned and time-tested to serve human needs. As psychologist David DeSteno writes in his book How God WorksThese rituals contain deep insight into these needs and how to meet them effectively.

Often it forces us to do things we don’t want to do, but that’s probably good for us. For example, when I was mourning the death of my father, I did not want to gather a large group of people to talk about him, but the Jewish Shiva ritual would have forced me to do so. It surrounds you with community when you want to be alone but need company. I hope you enjoy the benefits.

When we personalize our spirituality, we can end up with something that feels shallow, in part because it strips us of lineage. And this is where I think religious humanists have an advantage over secular humanists. They retain whatever lineage they can while revamping their beliefs to match their current beliefs.

This allows them to benefit from a tradition that requires them to do things they might not do if left to their own devices, such as spending a lot of time in community (something religion is great, but modern society often fails to do) and disconnecting periodically. Technology (Sabbath was the first digital detox). It also allows them to feel connected to their ancestors and maintain the aesthetic beauty of the songs and customs that are unique to their background.

So, even if you’re building your own scaffolding, keep an eye out for old materials that might be worth incorporating. There’s no need to completely reinvent the wheel. And there is no need to cede the realm of spirituality or even religion to the doctrines we encountered in our childhood communities. It’s theirs, but it’s also yours. I want you to take ownership of it, be creative with it, and yes. I pray for the confidence to subvert it in community with people who bring to life your vision of a moral life for you and your children.