Fundamentalism has one interesting insight.1
It perceives the science-based, libertarian, humanist
culture of the modern era as being itself a kind of
new religion — and its deadly enemy. We fail to see4
this because we are immersed in it, it dominates
more than nine-tenths of our lives, and it is so
amorphous. It has no officially recognised scriptures,7
creeds, prophets or organisation. Rather, it is a loose
coalition of many different forces, kept on the move
and in constant self-criticism and self-correction by10
an active and striving ethic derived from
Protestantism. So far as this new faith — if that is
what it is — has theologians, priests and prophets,13
they are, respectively, the scientists and scholars
whose business it is to criticise and increase
knowledge, the artists who refine our perceptions and16
open up new life-possibilities, and the armies of
idealistic campaigners who urge us to become active
in hundreds of good causes.19
So seductive and compelling is this new faith
that it is somehow impossible to avoid adopting its
language and its way of thinking. They are22
everywhere, and irresistible. That is what makes it
like a religion: once we are in the midst of it and do
not appreciate how strong and distinctive a flavour it25
has, we are largely unaware of its awesome,
unstoppable, disruptive evangelistic power.
Don Cuppitt. The sea of faith. London: British
Broadcasting Corporation, 1985, p. 181 (adapted).