There is a church for the faith-less emerging in London. During any given week people from around the city gather together at the School of Life to sing Christian hymns, recite Christian liturgy, read sacred texts and listen to a sermon by a myriad of "experts" including the school’s founder, Alain De Botton. The only twist of irony is that the faithful who gather in the pews, all self-identify as staunch Atheists.
Driving the theologically inconsistent phenomenon is the fact that many Atheists who turn their backs on religion often lament later in life that they miss the religious music and liturgy associated with their previous life of faith. The School of Life, according to Alain De Botton, exists to provide these experiences as a way to enhance life and restore a sense of “religious experience” without all the cumbersome dogma and doctrine. Some might assume this penchant for a new brand of Atheism stems from a desire to pursue truth regardless of its origins. Yet, to do so would be to blithely ignore a core belief of the movement.
Alain De Botton states explicitly in his writing that the most boring question anyone can ask of a religion is “is it true.” I would agree wholeheartedly if by “boring” Botton is suggesting that the question itself is not entirely sexy. However, I couldn’t disagree more if what he means by the word is that the question of truth actually lacks importance. The question may not be a particularly attractive one in our pluralistic, inclusive culture, but it is by all means the single most important question one can ask of a belief system.
Please consider for a moment how the world might react if we applied this same sentiment to other areas of our life. Would my spouse care if I dismissed her questions about my love or faithfulness to her by stating, “questions of truth are the most boring ones you can ask.” We would agree if our nations political leaders responded in kind (as indeed they have on many occasions). Indeed questions of truth are essential precisely because it is the foundation upon which relationships and trust are built. If truth doesn’t not matter, then on what grounds do Atheists suggest my belief in God is ignorant? If the School of Life admits a disregard for the fact that they may be blatantly lying to their followers, why attend? Why would I ever trust anyone who told me that questions of truth are the most boring kind I could ask?
Apparently quite a few. And the public response is not entirely shocking given the fact that I have visited dozens of places very similar to the School of Life here in the United States as well. In fact, I would be willing to wager that the School of Life can be found around the world in nearly every location in which a Christian church has been planted. Places where people gather to hear a sermon that sounds more like self-help than Gospel, music that is window-dressing rather than worship, and a liturgy that rings of a lifeless routine rather than any sort of true confession of belief. Religious atheists: oxy moron, or just an honest assessment of the lives of many who claim to follow Christ?
Something as blatantly foolish as Botton’s experiment might be good fodder for ridicule, but when we examine our own religious lives, it should cause all of us to ask, would I really feel so out of place in a church like the School of Life?
