Of What Use is Religion?

In a multi-cultural country, it is usual to see a lot of edifices of various religious denominations. This is so because religion is part and parcel of culture; and so where culture is heterogenous, religion cannot be homogenous. In my place, for instance, everywhere there is Surau (even in malls and in schools) and bigger places for worship for Allah believers. These buildings cannot be mistakenly identified as they all have the symbols of the moon and an onion-shaped block atop their roof, sharing the space with a sound system that broadcasts their bellows of prayers on particular periods of the day and night.

Still in the malls, there are Christian groups that have their Sunday assembly place side-by-side with stores and even restaurants; of course, more established Christian religions — like the Catholics and other main line Protestant groups — have their own separate structures, usually making their presence felt by the symbol of cross that they make very conspicuous. (To my mind comes an atheist who once remarked that everytime he sees a cross, he sees a symbol of arrogance and exploit; of course, if taken from his context, he lived in a time when Catholicism was into witchhunting against the “unorthodox”.) Along the street, too, one sees different forms and sizes of temples with varying degrees of elaboration of design.

Despite our living in modern — or post-modern — era, religions are sprouting like mushrooms. Side-by-side with established religions, there are new religions being found. (There is one site, actually, whose line of ad reads: Be ordained and start your church today!)

With this phenomenon, one may ask: Of what use is religion? What do people really get out of their participation in the worship and other activities in the Church? Why is religion still not dead, despite the so many predictions of its demise?

There is a book purposely written for philosophy of religion making a claim that religion humanizes people. According to the author, it is the real utility of religion — and hence should be the measuring stick for any religion — that is, how well are believers transformed into human beings.

This is a clear hypothesis, but at the same time an obscure claim. Why? Because this is like opening a door to lead one to the answer, but closes another (door) so that the pursuit of the total answer is not possible. After making the assertion that the use of religion is for humanization, the book stops in telling us what in essence humanization is.

To a certain extent, of course, the book is justified since there is no universally accepted notion and practice or formula of humanization. It is as varied as philosophies and theologies are. It could mean one thing for one group strapping one’s body with bombs and detonating the explosives where there are a lot of people, or hijacking an airplane to hit a building, or leaving one’s comfortable life in Saudi Arabia to join a holy war in another country like, say, in Afghanistan. Similarly, it could mean another thing for another group “leaving the world,” deciding to live in a monastery surrounded by very high four concrete walls, where one’s entire life is devoted in prayer. For still another group, it means occasional giving of dole outs to those who are in need — notwithstanding that the dole outs are from one’s economic surplus, if not excess from the fruits of corrupt practices.

The divide is actually not only between and among the different religions, but also between and among different groupings that characterize the landscape of any religion.

But, at least, that humanization is the reason for existence of religion is at the surface level — delaying for now a deep probe into its meaning(s) and repercussion(s) — pushing one to see for him/herself (thus, subjectively) whether in the context of his/her religion he/she is really humanized.

At the end, we point out the such line of thinking is in keeping with the words of a saint of the first century of Christianity. He said that the reason why Christ became human (referring to the mystery of incarnation) is to teach us how to become divine.

Likewise, one remembers Feuerbach, a 19th century atheist, who boldly asserted: theology is anthropology.