Religion Fits Better with Age By LEONARD PITTS of Miami Herald (from the SAN RAMON VALLEY TIMES, Friday, March 10, 2000) OUR TEXT FOR today's sermon comes from, of all sources, actress Alyssa Milano, who recently unburdened herself of Deep Thoughts on the subject of religion. Specifically, she was quoted in the USA Today as saying: "The religions that held up 50 years ago don't really hold up for the younger kids today. They want something new to believe in." So let me get this straight. Islam, having weathered 1,390 years of existence; Christianity, having endured to each 2000th anniversary; and Judaism, having persevered for 3,700 years, have met their match in the Pokeman generation? Gadzooks! Somebody create a fresh faith for those kids, quick! Paging the new Jesus. The next Mohammed? Ahem. Milano, it's worth noting, is all of 27. I have TV Guides older than that. I don't mean to use youth as a proxy for stupidity. No, I mention Milano's 27 years only to point out how age changes things. When you're young and immortal, it seems as if there's all the time in the world to figure out who God is or even if God is. Then winter begins to settle upon your bones and the quest takes on sudden urgency. After all, you might be taking a meeting with the Big Guy someday soon. Not that the picture of Milano points of young people being disconnected from religion is entirely accurate. According to a Gallup poll, 45 percent of Americans between the ages of 18 and 29 describe religion as "very important" to their lives (an additional 39 percent call it "fairly important"). Yet Milano is right in suggesting that religion matters more to older people; after the 70th year, the number of folks calling it "very important" jumps to nearly 80 percent. It's a telling progression. Me, I won't see 75 for a long time. On the other hand, age 29 disappeared from the rearview mirror many miles back. I'm in the middle. And I remember talking about religion once with a friend who's in the same place. I was struck by how similar our thinking is. How, as we plow through the halfway years, we suddenly find our selves trying to fill empty places left untouched by money, career, sex, and even love. How the old rituals of faith, the once that seemed such an awkward fit in our fast-forward lives, now slip into those empty spots as snuggly as puzzle pieces. How those things center us now. I remember when I was Milano's age, though. Remember learning that the world was capable of meanness and mendacity and feeling as if I'd discovered something nobody else had noticed before. Most of all, I remember asking hard questions for which there never seemed to be satisfactory answers. Years later, I still do and there still are not. But I've come to realize that you just live with it. Or not. I'm reminded of the Bible story of Job, who lived with it. For no reason that he can fathom, the poor guy is visited with a plague of death, desease and ruin. And Job says, Hey, God, what's up with this? Why you doing this to me? To which God says: Back up, son. Who are you to question me? Where were you when I laid the Earth's foundations? Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place? In that exchange lies the essential conundrum of human existence, the fulcrum of faith -- and doubt. Young people want something new to believe in, the actress says, but it occurs to me that maybe the question is less what to believe ... than how. When you know how capricious and cruel the world can be, how can you accept the idea of a higher purpose, an architect of all whose design is beyond understanding? For what's worth, that's the same question I asked when I was 27: How can I believe that, somehow, this all make sense? Now the question is how can I not? Pitts is columnist for the Miami Herald. Write to him via e-mail at leonardpitts@mindspring.com. or call him at 800-457-3881