Pope Francis

Pope Francis is a remarkable person.  Sincere, compassionate, and—I dare say—eloquent, it is difficult not to be impressed.  One does not have to agree with his theology in order to realize that he deserves a sympathetic hearing.

During the Pope’s recent visit to the United States, he obviously attracted a great deal of attention.   Given the wall-to-wall media coverage, it might be assumed that our nation is in the midst of a religious revival.  This, however, would be wrong.  The truth is that we are increasingly secular.

When I arrived in Georgia nearly a quarter of a century ago, I assumed that I was entering the Bible Belt.  Clones of Jimmy Carter would undoubtedly be lurking around every corner intent on lecturing me about the importance of becoming born again.  This, of course, is not what I found.

As it happens, in several of my classes at Kennesaw State University, I discuss the sociology of morality.  These sessions routinely begin with questions about the Ten Commandments.  Thus I start by asking students to identify the first commandment.  Hands almost never go up.

Then, after a little coaching, someone usually gets the correct answer.  Next I ask about the tenth commandment.  This is generally more difficult.  In fact, few ever get it completely right.

So here I am in the deeply religious South and most of my students know less about the Bible than me.  Even more amazingly, although I was born and raised a Jew, I know more about Christian doctrine than the vast majority of them.  Most are more interested in Facebook and computer games.

The implications of this disconnect are profound.  Indeed, the Pope brought many of these to our attention.  One of the primary reasons he came was to highlight the importance of the family.  He not only asked us to love one another; he pleaded for us to cherish our children.

Once upon a time, marriage was the preserve of the church.  People got married at the altar and stayed married because doing otherwise was regarded as sinful.  Moreover, those who failed to heed church teachings about these matters often found themselves excluded from the congregation and its sacraments.

Back then this was frightening.  Ordinary people worried that they might not go to heaven if they did not observe sacred traditions.  Today most don’t care.  They assume that they are going to heaven anyway.

For much of human history, religious institutions maintained family discipline.  These forcefully instructed men and women on the need to remain faithful to each other.  They likewise admonished parents on their duty to love and protect their children.  While these cautions were often ignored, they were nevertheless respected.

Today the situation is different.  Divorce is rampant, while nearly half of all American children are born to unwed parents.  Astoundingly, we are told we must take this in stride.  Everybody supposedly deserves unconditional positive regard—notwithstanding what they do.

And so we abandon our spouses and children, safe in the knowledge that we will not be judged harshly.  What is more, we will probably not be judged at all.  With the opinions of the Church no longer feared, people simply do as they please.

My guess is that ecclesiastical authority is not coming back.  Too many of us no longer believe.  Despite reminders from leaders as persuasive as Francis, we simply move on once they leave the room.  Even though we agree with their messages, we do not obey.

Morality is clearly boring.  It is the province of scolds who ought to mind their own business.  Let us be the judge of what is best for us and let them do the same for themselves.

Yet without social discipline we are lost.  If we, in our secular sanctimony, will not enforce the rules that keep families together, these unions must inevitably fragment.  And with them will go the love and interpersonal support that make life worth living.  Too bad!

Melvyn L. Fein, Ph.D.

Professor of Sociology

Kennesaw State University