Admitting a certain atheist bias up front, I must say that it seems that progress and tradition do not go hand in hand. And, thus, religion, dependent as it is on tradition, does not fit well with progress. Outside of what we have covered in class, of course, there seems a certain irony in that early temples—where religion began—it has been suggested, came into existence because of supposed “progress” i.e. the agricultural revolution. But, separate from that—an argument certainly to be made, but not in this essay—religious cosmology and religious adherence to the immaterial quite readily holds people back from advancing thought and understanding about the universe, and sometimes quite actively obstructs such advancement (the excommunication of Galileo comes to mind). In Nakae Chōmin’s “A Discourse by Three Drunkards on Government,” the character of the Champion makes a clear political distinction between what he calls the “lovers of nostalgia” and the “lovers of novelty.” That same distinction fits quite handily upon the dialectic of religion vs. modernity or tradition vs. progress.

Not to bring in too many outside sources in the first week[1], but Max Weber argued that of the various religions—some being more conducive to progress than others—Protestantism, in particular, promoted Capitalism in the West (which many would, of course, see as progress) by legitimizing individualistic profit seeking, making it a duty willed by God; by justifying capitalist exploitation and work discipline by making conscientious labor a sacred duty; and by creating a climate in which poverty was seen as a result of individual failing. In America today, it’s almost too easy to see how this Protestant work ethic has remained, so that we have long debates over healthcare or any sort of welfare for the poor. Christianity (or either of the other two Abrahamic religions). Hinduism, Buddhism—these religions love the idea of charity, but in practice do not necessarily live up to it because of ideas like those Weber described. Religious tradition, even relatively new ones like Protestantism, get in the way of “progress.”

As said in class, seeking the holy, especially in the modern era, is about finding continuity, finding order. The religious person—even, the atheist, but after a different fashion—seeks a way to give meaning to everyday existence, to put a purpose to all we must experience. And, the empirics of science discount this meaning. Having grown up in a religious environment, I understand how comforting such a thing can be (the meaning, not the discounting of it), and in an increasingly chaotic world, an increasingly populous world, the individual almost has to seek something outside empirics to make living worth it. Religious cosmology, whatever one a person may choose, provides a (relatively) straightforward explanation for how the universe is constructed and how it is supposed to work. Any unknown portion is attributed to the supernatural and even for that there are rules and guidelines for how the supernatural is to act. Outside of say ancient pantheist religions like the Olympian, just about any religion also provides a moral code, and this puts further order on life, and order is generally more comforting than chaos.

It is worth noting, as well, that any religion with an eschatology—that is, a specific belief about the end—like the Abrahamic religions, like Christianity, there may even be a sense that, since we are near the endtimes, certain progress is, even if potentially positive, unnecessary. Chomin’s Champion compares the lovers of novelty to “living flesh” and the lovers of nostalgia to “a cancer.” While this may be a bit hyperbolic, it is fitting. Science, modernity, progress—these are living, evolving ideas whereas religion, tradition—these are dead notions whose very stillness is what makes them so comforting at times.