It is fairly obvious, although logically only coincidental, that the change corresponds to an improved economy. We might also add that greater communication with the rest of the world is also involved, as well as the increasing reliance on secular sciences, which are forever showing their value beyond the spiritual. But there has always been another problem with the great religions, and it is only the factors cited above that have allowed people to avoid them by avoiding religion altogether. This problem might be called the discomfort of guilt, but I think it is best termed as the impossibility of perfection.
This came crashing down on me the other day in a discussion of Catholic theology. One woman who leads a youth group talked of the problem for young people with the idea that masturbation was a mortal sin (as the joke goes, '95% of men masturbate and the other 5% are liars. ' It might be an exaggeration, but probably not by much). This is a big deal, because in Church doctrine, a mortal sin not disclosed to a priest for forgiveness remains as an eternal block for the passage of that person to heaven at death. I could not believe it, and added that blasphemy, too, might then be a mortal sin. Does that mean that every time I hit my finger with a hammer and swear, Oh C...t!, I will have to confess it or be eternally damned to hell? The discussion continued, with one person reading from the Catholic Catechism that mortal sin "was a purposeful act of evil." But what, then, is evil? To me, it certainly is not fooling around with one's own body or swearing when in pain. It is all those horrible things we read about, deaths and tortures and so on - right?
The following day, I was sent a list of the "grave" sins that, when committed with knowledge of their gravity, made for mortal sins. These were formally introduced by St Thomas Aquinas in (I think) the 12th century, and have become part of the cannon ever since. While blasphemy had to be of a particular vehemence against God to be 'grave' - one breaths a sigh of relief - self pleasure is there, front and center, along with many others, including the 7 deadly sins - pride, anger, sloth, gluttony, and lascivious behavior among them. Pride? Does one go to hell for pride of, say, your 14 year old winning a race? Or anger, for having a spat with one's spouse? To avoid hell, one would have to go to confession every day, and hope to be good those remaining 23 hours in between before death.
Lest the Hindu or Buddhist think he is off the hook, why, no; endless reincarnations to cleanse one's impurities await one unless he learns to detach himself from all things in life, and love all things with equal purity. I do not know, but it is my guess that Muslims face the same impossible hurdles.
Now, if we are offered a confident voice shared by hundreds of millions that states that all this is poppycock, who would not jump at the chance to avoid this impossible scenario? Certainly, most recently, the Irish.
I felt the same way, too, both in my youth, and just those few days ago after the discussion. But I realized that something was wrong here. It occurred, surprisingly, at a cathedral while I was researching a small newspaper article there. The inner voice, that deep spiritual voice, simply does not agree. Evil is evil, not foolishness or an angry moment; evil it is an accepted way of life, a willful fall into hate and disharmony. Our peccadilloes are simply that - brief moments when we fall from a sense of harmony. That can, and usually is, restored without formal intersession. In fact, in seems to me that the rules of Aquinas are similar to the rules of the Pharisees - endless formulations that, as Jesus knew, take away from the peace and unity of the heart. It seems to me that Jesus himself would rail against such moral laws just as he did against the laws of cleanliness of his own day. "Love God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself. In this you understand the law."
It is true that Aquinas built a beautiful edifice with his Summa Theologica,but he was only a man. The spirit that springs from a true attempt at conciliation with our fellows that religions offer far outweighs the drudgery of theological certitude that frightens us away. I am betting that the former is enough. I have renewed faith in this, and will continue as before, only casting a wary eye now and then in the rear view mirror at the old laws that should be meant only to guide, not to condemn. FK