Be wary of metaphorical religious teddy bears

Drawing conclusions from data should be done carefully.

Folks say raw numbers don’t lie and I’d give my qualified agreement to that statement.

What we do with statistics, though, can lead us to errors in thinking.

It’s true in business, in planning your household budget and when it comes to matters of religion, which is my portfolio in this bi-weekly column.

Years ago, before there was an Internet, I worked in the commercial radio business, and my employer used to send me to Columbia, Maryland, to the headquarters of Arbitron.

Arbitron is a name you may recognize.

As Nielsen is for television, Arbitron is the most powerful name in the radio ratings business.

Radio programmers, sales directors, general managers and advertisers all pay attention to the figures Arbitron reports.

Your ratings, unless you are an unusually charismatic salesperson, usually determine how much you can charge for radio commercials.

The “numbers,” the parlance for the trade, indicate who is listening, how long and when.

Long before Arbitron could upload the data into a virtual cloud, I sat in a little room and pored through ratings books from listeners, trying to get a sense for how well our radio station was performing with the public.

We could wait for Arbitron to send us a letter in the mail advising us about our ratings and sometimes we did.

When we could afford it, though, we went to Maryland and looked at the original documents with our own eyes.

I discovered, as did my colleagues, that the Arbitron folks sometimes put a spin on the ratings that the raw data didn’t entirely support.

This gap between data and interpretation is why we spent the money to fly to Arbitron, spend a night in a hotel and take a taxi.

More than thirty years later, call me skeptical when I hear data being quoted.

I recently watched a pastor lead a virtual worship service.

He quoted data points.

Citing a survey, the pastor said before the pandemic, only 15% of U.S. churches were growing. Since mid-March, when stay-at-home orders began to immobilize people in their residences, 50% now report growth.

OK, I told myself. Hmm.

It’s a survey. Just like Arbitron, we have some idea of what methodology was used to elicit the data, the numbers.

The pastor didn’t share the methodology used to arrive at the data point because he was preaching, not presenting a case study.

Ok, I thought. Interesting.

The conclusion he reached based on the aforementioned data was that it appears the pandemic has made us hungrier for God.

Hold on now. I don’t know if pure numbers alone justify the verdict.

Anyone who has taken a rudimentary statistics course in college knows to be wary when data is interpreted.

I remember pastoring a church myself when terrorists hijacked planes and killed Americans on 9.11.01.

That very evening, the church I pastor was packed to the gills with shocked and scandalized folks in my community.

The Sunday immediately after 9.11, the church was similarly full.

People are coming back to God, the national media proclaimed, noting the sharp uptick in worshippers.

The next Sunday after that, attendance was above average at my church.

The third Sunday out from 9.11?

Attendance had returned to normal.

Anecdotally, my unscientific survey of fellow clergy found similar results.

Did 9.11 make people hungrier for God?

Maybe for a little while, but I sincerely doubt it.

The numbers told me the shock of terrorism on our shores made people seek reassurance.

Once calmed, the pattern resumed and the bubble flattened.

One of my former ministry colleagues said 9.11 got people into their mental closets as they looked for a metaphorical teddy bear to remind them all would be OK.

Coming to worship, for a lot of folks I suspect, was that teddy bear.

If you’re an adult, teddy bears are items of reminiscence, reminding you of simpler, more carefree times.

You don’t leave them out for very long, though.

They go back onto the top shelf where they belong when you feel better.

It seems to me this is what happened with suddenly re-energized churchgoers after 9.11 and I would expect the same thing post-coronavirus.

Call me a skeptic but there it is.

Here’s another data point.

Something called the General Social Survey, admittedly taken pre-COVID-19, indicates 23 percent of U.S. adults describe themselves as one of the “nones,” a term referring to those who claim no religious affiliation whatsoever.

The nones are the fastest growing religious group in America, a data point sustained by multiple surveys and polls.

People are hungrier for God – or for that temporary teddy bear?

The pastor also mentioned that more people were livestreaming worship than actually were in the sanctuary pre-pandemic.

As a data point, sure, I trust it.

But to draw any sustainable conclusion is dicey, to say the least.

I clicked into the service in question for a total of three minutes.

I was making dinner at the time and my interest quickly waned and I signed out.

But I counted as having attended worship that day.

Data is wonderful but be careful of conclusions drawn.

Metaphorical teddy bears get us through tough moments. Be careful if they suggest some sort of new normal, however.