We all know, don't we, that people today make a pretty sharp distinction between "religion" and "spirituality." Religion means "organized religion" -- church, doctrine, do this, don't do that. (Personally, I prefer disorganized religion.) "Spirituality" on the other hand means getting in touch with the deep-down inner things that lead to God.
Now, just as an interesting aside, I did my Ph. D. dissertation on a theologian who lived in the early 20th century, and back then, "religion" was the good word. It meant personal experience as opposed to "dogma" or "theology," which was all the head stuff. So, it's interesting how things change.
In my survey I wanted to probe some of the respondents' views about spirituality.
Which of the following things help you to be more in touch with your spirituality?
And there were 12 options:
Coming to Church on Sunday
My relationships with family and friends.
Sharing my experiences with someone who understands.
Prayer and meditation.
Observing important occasions or familiar rituals.
Music.
The arts (film, visual arts, poetry)
Being out in nature.
Exercising or working out.
Science fiction or fantasy.
Reading.
Other.
And the top 6 choices were:
Being out in nature (55%)
Relationships with family and friends (55%)
Observing important occasions and familiar rituals (47%)
Music. (47%)
Prayer and meditation (39%)
Coming to Church on Sunday. (39%)
What are the implications of these findings for the way we do church? Part of the problem I am wrestling with is that the church can't with integrity simply say, "OK, that's what these people say they want, so we'll do it" and start planning Sunday morning nature walks instead of worship services. The yearning for nature, just to take an example, is right in line with a biblical view of what it means to be human, but it can never be allowed to become a kind of nature worship or nature mysticism. So how do our churches help people to connect their spiritual experience of nature with the Christian message?
A couple of things that surprised me was the large number of those who responded to "Observing important occasions or familiar rituals." Now that's something we ought to be able to sink our teeth into. I think churches should be able to help people use ritual and celebration to deepen their spiritual lives. That in turn resonates well with the Church's long tradition of using repeated, meaningful events to draw people into the life of God.
I'm also gratified that, even though it finished tied for 5th place, 4 out of 10 people still think that coming to church on Sunday is an important element of their spirituality. Remember, these are people, the majority of whom by their own admission show up in church anywhere from sporadically to never. So, that's an encouraging sign.
But one of our great challenges is to develop ways of tapping into the much ballyhooed "spiritual hunger" of postmodern people in such a way that they gain access to the riches of Christian tradition and experience.
I know people are reading this blog because they tell me. If you're reading, why not post a comment? I'd love to get some feedback, especially on this topic.
About Me
- getreconnected
- I get paid to be a preacher and pastor, but I'm really interested in the fascinating places God, faith and religion show up in people's lives. I live in the beautiful village of Fenwick in the Niagara Region of Ontario and my church is in St. Catharines. Currently, I live with my wife, Rev. Diane Walker, just we two, because all of our four little birdies have flown the nest. Two will be getting married in 2012. And we are the ridiculously doting grandparents of two.
Grandpa and Levi
4 comments:
Well, it's why we do Holy Communion every week.
But not so much as ritual medicine ("means of grace") as a ritual meal.
And every chance we get, we bless people and anoint them with oil and pray as we anoint.
So today I sat in the Baptist Church I attend and a member told us of her experience of God, as she awaited a doctor's report of her potentially cancer verdict - she felt a hand on her shoulder and saw the gown that Christ might have worn as she looked at the floor as she turned to see who came in the room. She was so sincere anbd she is not a regular church attdendee. So what do I think of that? I have asked for years for God to reveal himself to me. Do I need to be near death to hear from him? I attend chutch regularly and I atruggle with trying to sense the presence of God - maybe that is why people look to other places than the church building to experience God. Nature seems so much more forgiving and caring than the judgemental people in a church "family".
Gail, what interested me was the relatively low number of people who had an identifiable experience they could call an experience of God. I think we associate the idea of experiencing God with feeling the hand of God on our shoulder, or seeing Jesus standing in the room -- something "ecstatic" that literally takes us out of ourselves. Daniel has suggested that simply doing the practices, like the eucharist or anointing is how he experiences God. I think the problem might be that we have cultivated a pretty narrow range of phenomena that qualify as God experiences. Quite a few people in the survey said that they had had certain experiences but weren't sure whether to label them "God" or not. I think that's the conversation that needs to take place in communities of faith -- what is a God experience, and how do we know?
Sharing my experiences with someone who understands
I prefer to share my mundane experiences with someone who also doesn't understand.
I think that's the conversation that needs to take place in communities of faith -- what is a God experience, and how do we know?
A piece here, a piece there...a decade might go by before some unconnected clues that we only saw in passing make a complete picture.
I attend church regularly and I struggle with trying to sense the presence of God -
Maybe we have read too literally into death and struggle. Prayer can take the form of struggle, like anything else. Struggles have been passed down to us for centuries, and I guess that spiritual and religious struggles are good for their own sake. Death is an obvious end to struggle; and end that we even romaniticise and in a negative way, sometimes we eroticise (a lot of energy goes into thinking about our own deathss significance which is not always good energy, but is powerful and fascinating). Our fascination maybe has overwhelemd us and so we see the worshipful (?) struggles end at the same time as our deaths. I wonder if the attention we pay to death as an obvious and fascinating end to struggle blinds us to some actual revelations in our lives?
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