Our school had a lot of traditions. Two in particular left their mark on me, so that even several years after leaving school they were still imprinted on my behaviour. The first was greeting people you walked past, or who walked past you, especially your elders. Teachers, parents, strangers, it didn’t matter. You gave a polite greeting, an acknowledgement of their existence. The second was walking on the grass. The grass on our school grounds was sacred. Only the staff were permitted to walk on the lush lawns that adorned our school terraces. An exception was made for your final year of school where you finally gained the privilege to do the same. It was exhilarating. An honor, even. After four years of being confined to the bustling corridors, you finally got to walk on the grass. And in that moment I understood it. Something so trivial as walking on grass became meaningful.
For years after leaving school I retained the urge to great everyone I walked past and preferred walkways over grass. When I remembered that I was no longer in school, confined by those traditions and rules, I would feel free to walk on the grass and also feel a sense of elevation. It took me years to grow out of those sensations. They were embedded in my psyche by a mini-society that upheld and enforced those values until they felt right. I look back on these small traditions fondly, but it also makes me realize how almost any “value” can be encoded into your behaviour.
In the same way, groups of all sorts can program behaviours into us that can stick around for a while, or indefinitely. I briefly played some Magic: The Gathering at a local club, and at the start of every turn my opponents would say “Untap, Upkeep, Draw”. It was a little mantra that directed your actions for the beginning phase of your turn. It helped me remember what I needed to do and the order I needed to do it in. And so I started saying it as well. It started feeling natural real fast.
What I’m getting at is that this sort of behaviour-programming happens all the time in humans and other animals. My dog Roo has similar behaviours that trigger when he hears certain sounds (such as keys being jingled) or words (such as “let’s play outside”). If I say goodbye to someone on the phone he gets excited because that often means someone is at the gate. These behaviours start to feel normal and correct to us. They become our way of doing things, automatic responses, natural mannerisms.
I remember when my mom took me to a new church as a young teenager. During the worship part of the service everyone was putting their hands up in the air. It looked so awkward. It took several Sundays for me to muster up the courage and do the same. Afterwards, a lady came up to my mother and complimented her on raising young men who worship the Lord so enthusiastically. That sealed it. Everyone was doing it, it was an outward sign of being part of the group, and the group approved of it. For years it felt wrong not to put my hands in the air during worship. If I wanted to feel more “worship-y” then that’s what I’d do. If I felt unworthy, lacking, or pensive then I would refrain from it. Even further, you could sit down during the worship service to look even more serious. Or you could wave a flag to look more enthusiastic. Or you could stand at the front so that everyone could see how seriously you took it. Obviously I didn’t think about it in such blatant terms back then. These subtleties and nuances were encoded into the behaviour of everyone around me, and I learned them through exposure.
Religion makes good use of behaviour programming. Got to read your Bible every day, pray before every meal, attend homegroup, prayer group, and church on Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday respectively. Church starts off with announcements, then testimonies, then worship, then preaching, then closing prayer, then coffee, or some variation of those steps. After a while it feels wrong not to read your Bible on a given day, or pray before a meal, or skip church on Sunday. If the pastor decides not to preach, or not to have worship on a given Sunday something feels a little off, novel even. And if you move to a different church that does it similarly to your old church then you feel comfortable. If they change things up slightly then it might not “click” for you, but if you hold out for a while then you’ll get used to it.
Religious communities create well-trodden patterns of behaviour that you can assimilate and come to think of as your own. Some of these behaviours are mundane and practical, but others are social signals of identity and commitment. They serve to show the group how much you mean it. In Psychology there is a concept known as Credibility Enhancing Displays. This is where a person performs some observable, costly behaviour that shows others how invested they are in a belief. These are usually quite extreme, such as martyrdom, self-mutilation, animal sacrifice, walking on coals. Religions still invoke milder versions of these forms of commitment signalling. Baptism, testimonies, public confession, and even the language employed in normal conversation all become signals of showing just how much you believe the propositions and are part of the group.
Religion starts to feel as natural as the air you breathe. The behaviours you engage in on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis start to feel right in your bones. This isn’t evidence of their truth, or their usefulness, but people often mistake that feeling of rightness for both of those things. It’s the way it should be done. And if you deviate then those signals are on full display for everyone to see how you’re diverging from the group.
What a powerful testimony! He’s lying on the floor in the front, how dedicated! They’re finally getting baptized! They gave a lot of tithe. They asked him to preach, what a solid Christian man! They play in the band! He’s the lead pastor. They can speak in tongues! Where were you on Sunday? When did you last read your Bible? They just started eating without praying! She didn’t stand during worship, or raise her hands. He doesn’t do devotionals with his family.
