Though a somewhat unenthusiastic atheist, I am also a big fan of the holiday season. Not the mass consumerism, or the festivities, or the lights, or the presents, but theology. Put Christ back in Christmas, I say.

I’m often asked how my appreciation for religion can coexist with this apostasy. Really well, actually. Chestertonian notions of tradition, the importance of old-fashioned nuclear families, the notion of free will, the respect for life, the stigma and guilt that help mitigate bad personal behavior — and the forgiveness afforded those who fall — are all quite appealing concepts. If the masses need an opiate, Judeo-Christian values are as good as any other.

Indeed, it is alarming that the share of Americans who consider themselves members of a church has plummeted to below 50 percent, according to Gallup. We are at a national nadir of religiosity — at least since Gallup first began asking the question in 1937, when 73 percent of Americans attended church regularly. While we remain more devout than Europeans, the United States is inarguably on a similar trajectory. It’s not going to be long before most houses of God are transformed into 24-hour gyms and high-end supermarkets.

More distressing is the fact that so many who reject the idea of a personal savior fill the faith void with cults of personality, “science,” animism, witchcraft, fascism, socialism, utopianism, wokenesss, politics, and other quackeries.

It is one thing to reject thousands of years of Western thought as incompatible with a modern, rational age. It’s quite another to snub Aristotle and Aquinas for a grifter named “Zelda” whose dilapidated ranch home on Route 80 is lit by a neon sign promising two-for-one Tarot card–reading specials on Sundays. Yet, according to Pew, more than 40 percent of Americans believe that psychics have powers. Nearly 30 percent believe in astrology, with large numbers of Americans looking to astrology completely to offer them guidance in personal matters.

And the younger you are, the more likely it is that you believe that the quirks of your personality and your future prospects are predetermined by the random placement of the sun, moon, and planets in the twelve sections of the sky. At this point, there is a strong chance that more American Millennials believe in horoscopes than in the Transfiguration.

The “mystical-services market” — which includes crystals and other such hokum — brings in over $2 billion in the United States. There are 100,000 self-employed astrologers in the country — which is to say, around 90,000 more self-employed astrologers than there are employed rabbis. It’s a growth industry. Silicon Valley venture-capital firms, reports the New York Times, have been pumping millions into new apps and companies that cater to Zodiac-obsessed consumers. To put that in some context, Catholic Charities USA, the fifth-largest charity in the United States, collects around $714 million in private donations every year.

Now, it’s true that 37 percent of those who say they believe psychics can predict the future also identify as “Christians” themselves. But 47 percent of those who believe in horoscopes are atheists, agnostics, or those who are “nothing in particular.”

The latter, of course, is not a real thing. People have an innate need to make sense of a chaotic world. Most of us believe in something. The moral structures, hierarchies, and values provided by Judeo-Christian ideas — and obviously these are generalizations, as Christian denominations disagree on numerous theological issues, so much so that they fought centuries-long wars over what would seem like trivial differences to the modern secular person — make us better people, and society more bearable, beautiful, and generous. Whether we like it or not, whether church leaders are hypocrites or not, these values remain our moral compass. At least for now.

It is also the case that we need more people in the pews to save the Republic. Mostly because God-fearing Americans tend to be more serious about other vital institutions. Maybe it’s because they believe in something bigger than themselves — or even the CDC, if one can imagine such a thing. Inalienable rights make sense to the person of faith in the same way a pliable set of guidelines that perpetually bend to accommodate the vagaries of contemporary life does not. Putting man above God as the final arbiter of “rights” is a haughty and perilous enterprise, as we witnessed in virtually every tragedy of the 20th century. There is far too much of that going on.

And, obviously, if you’re willing to throw away a few thousand years of history, what’s a mere 200-odd years of constitutional law?

Faith is being exchanged not only for sorcery and stones, but for vacuous modern concepts such as “spirituality” and “social justice.” Our new political movements are often stripped of forgiveness and grace, propelled by an ever-expanding list of grievances and demands. Having grown up in the community of American Jews, I am aware of the destructive nature of sub-denominations that appropriate half-baked trendy progressive ideas as doctrine. They have a tenuous mooring in faith. They have no lasting power. These political social clubs are off-ramps from faith and tradition. They ask nothing of parishioners other than to feel pious about their alleged tolerance. I see more rainbow flags in front of big-city churches than crosses. No thanks.

Is it illogical to celebrate faith without believing in God? Maybe. I envy those who believe in an all-powerful celestial being that creates order and metes out mercy and justice. Even if you don’t believe in God, you should act like He exists. Because trust me, the prospect of eternal salvation is far more enticing than the idea of being thrown into a six-foot-deep pit. That, as it were, is my cross to bear.

Anyway, Merry Christmas!