This week, I came across an article by James Martin, a nationally known Jesuit priest, who spoke to the popular phrase “I’m spiritual, just not religious” and explained that this kind of thinking might be a way of saying that religion means, “abiding by arcane rules and hidebound dogmas, and being the tool of an oppressive institution that doesn’t allow you to think.” Martin wonders if people who identify themselves as “spiritual but not religious” imply that faith is something solely between you and God. But is that really true? We cannot simply relate to God alone. That would mean there is no one to whom we are accountable with regard to our “spirituality,” or to suggest when we might be drifting into troubled territory. Martin writes:
“We all tend to think that we’re correct about most things, and spirituality is no exception. Not belonging to a religious community means less of a chance of being challenged by a tradition of belief and experience, less chance to see when you are misguided, seeing only part of the picture, or just wrong.”
What happens when our “spirituality,” hits the wall? What happens when life circumstances overwhelm us and we feel that no one understands our situation or would want to? What happens when our faith gets knocked out of focus and what we thought was a solid spiritual world view no longer makes sense to us? What then?
For those of us who are connected with a mainstream Christian community, we are frequently reminded that suffering and doubt are part of the life of even the most devout Christians we know. Without the wisdom of a faith tradition we miss the encouragement and tested practices of those who have walked similar roads in ages past. No matter how intentional we might be about the spiritual dimension of our lives, we are human and make mistakes. And when we do, we can rely even more deeply on the wisdom and grace of a religious tradition. We may not fully understand or agree with all aspects of that religious tradition, but on the whole, the grace and stability it offers are invaluable. The irony is that we most often feel like giving up on the community of faith precisely when we need it most.
I commend Martin’s article to you – a helpful reminder for ourselves as well as a bit of wisdom to pass on when you engage with those who see little value in the mainline church today. Turns out you can be “spiritual” and “religious” and nurturing that relationship appears to be the better part of wisdom.
