You would have to be a cartoon atheist to declare that religion is of no benefit.
Most atheists on the ‘militant’ end of the spectrum say it’s not worth it. No matter what benefits it brings, they say it’s not worth the crusades, intolerance, anti-science, brainwashing, corruption, and human rights violations.
And so the search begins:
Can you get all the benefits of religion… without the ‘religion’ part?
The cynics who say that religion is nothing more than the opioid of the masses fail in this project. They come up with an Xbox, realize they already exist, and then give up in frustration.
Other doomed projects involve copying the elements of the surface. They meet every week, read On the Origin of Species, and say that the only way to salvation is through objective and rational investigation.
When you mimic superficial details without understanding why they’re there, your project falls apart ‘for no reason’.
The wisest people realize that part of the appeal (and the trap) of religion is community. This is how religion keeps its hooks on those who have lost their faith: if they stop going to church, they lose their friends, family, and support network.
So these people create not just another group of atheist fans, but they create a community.
However, most of them fail because they still have pieces of the puzzle missing.
What makes religion so powerful to people—so powerful that they are willing, eager even, to give up titles, kinky bedroom fun, and even their lives—is more than just community.
It’s a regular dose of altered states of consciousness.
Altered states plus strong communities create strong bonds.
And that’s where the staying power of religion comes from. Many atheists look at religious cultures with frustration, wondering why another tribe of ‘smarter’, ‘less deluded’ people didn’t outdo them.
A naive view is that fairy tales from the afterlife give them hope. Or the fear of eternal damnation motivates them to work and fight harder.
Maybe.
But think about what religion really does for a religious person:
They work all day, maybe in the fields like feudal peasants, maybe in an office like a corporate drone. They spend every moment solving the problems in front of them, lost in memories and daydreams, unable to spend much time in deep thought.
Then they go home, eat a good meal… and pray.
They spend time connecting with something inside of them… and something bigger than themselves. They can focus on the moment and imagine a better future. Old buried emotions work their way up and you get a chance to work them out.
It is a form of meditation.
Once a week they go to church. They hear fantastic stories about the fundamental forces of the universe that fight with each other. These tales contain clear lessons for their own lives. If they can’t see the metaphor, the preacher will point it out to them.
They sing, sing, laugh and dance as a community, as a collective, where their sense of identity blends with the crowd.
It’s like philosophy, therapy, and socialization all at once.
Ignore the benefits of that at your peril.
Secular surrogates for religion often miss this part. As such, they miss out on great opportunities to solve problems and cleanse themselves emotionally. They come together, talk, share… but they don’t transform.
Here is my advice to anyone looking to fight the benefits of religion from the clutches of religion:
Hypnosis.
Hypnosis, hypnosis, hypnosis.
That’s all preachers do anyway.
When a person learns to pray, they learn a simple form of self-hypnosis.
When the preacher speaks passionately about a Bible verse and the lessons it contains for the life of the congregation, they are performing hypnotherapy.
Once you see hypnosis within religious rituals, you can cut out everything that doesn’t make sense and double down on the things that work.
If your people are not experiencing psychological transformations every week or more, even subtle ones, then you don’t have a church. You have a vague association of humans.
Do you want proof of my outlandish claims?
Tabletop RPGs, like Dungeons & Dragons, have these benefits. They forge strong social connections and induce altered states of consciousness, which leads to psychological growth.
At least, well-executed games do.
D&D exploded in popularity among people who rejected the churches. The nerds, the outcasts, the burnouts, the gays, the eccentrics, the artists, and anyone else too maverick to benefit from religion.
If you know your history, you will know that this is also how Christianity began. Like D&D, Christianity reaches a critical mass among the fringes before going mainstream.
The only reason D&D isn’t a literal religion (yet?) is that the playgroups are too small. If you could play in a group of 40 people without losing the magic, so to speak, you would create a group as strong as any church.
Gary Gygax didn’t have that intention when he created D&D, he just wanted to play. And since he died a devout Christian who adored tabletop RPGs, my comparisons can’t be offended either.