Lauren Jackson published a fascinating piece in the May 19, New York Times, exploring the many ways in which people search for alternatives to religion. Spiritual hunger persists even in the most secular of societies and it’s not surprising that people seek ways to satisfy it. My gut-level reaction is that there is no true alternative to religion. What is religion, after all, but a set of repetitive words and actions expressing spiritual hope—if not belief?
Religion is so integral to human life that those without it often create something to fill the void. Even confirmed atheists can turn their atheism into a kind of religion. As Jackson noted, people try all sorts of things—yoga, meditation, self-help routines, therapeutic practices. Some are on what they call a “spiritual but not religious” path that, in effect, becomes its own religion. People will make a religion out of almost anything they believe might satisfy their spiritual hunger. The most deluded make themselves their own god.
Everyone who seeks to satisfy spiritual hunger has a religion of some kind. That’s not to say everyone is on such a quest. Some go through life in a state of complacency, never giving spirituality much thought. Others are so overwhelmed by the daily grind that they lack the time and energy to consider spiritual hunger, let alone pursue its satisfaction.
The alternatives people are searching for are not to religion itself, but to the forms of religion expressed through established churches, synagogues, and mosques. As a Christian pastor, I’m well aware that church attendance has been declining for decades—for good and sufficient reason. One segment of the church became complacent in its proclamation of the gospel and provided poor instruction to young people, who grew up to find little of value in what they remembered as Sunday school fables. Another part of the church spent two decades mired in sex abuse scandals, eroding trust and credibility. A third offered a theology of feel-good prosperity, replacing the way of the cross. A fourth battered the faithful with fear of the devil and threats of eternal damnation. All of them challenged the legitimacy of the institutional church as a faithful representative of Jesus Christ.
That would be trouble enough—but it wasn’t the only challenge. The social upheavals of the 1960s and ’70s called into question the legitimacy of all established norms. Churches found themselves particularly ill-equipped to grapple with women’s roles in the church and the complex realities of human sexuality. The resulting debates were heated and divisive. As in every age since time began, accepted social norms were in tension with God’s way of truth, justice, and love. I can understand why many would look elsewhere for spiritual nourishment.
It is axiomatic that one cannot create something more moral than oneself. A religion created by human hands will eventually collapse under the weight of its creators’ own moral flaws. What truly satisfies spiritual hunger—what is undergirded by moral truth—cannot be manufactured. It must be divinely revealed. Prophets and sages have served as the agents of that revelation. Though human and imperfect, their testimony has proven trustworthy through the centuries. Likewise, our capacity to understand divine truth and live it out is limited by our own fallibility and ignorance. Yet the journey toward divine truth is never-ending—and it is a journey of progress.
More recent data suggest that the decline in church attendance has begun to level off, and in some places, even reverse. What has changed—or is changing? I believe there is growing recognition that the institutional church is merely the vessel through which God’s divine truth is proclaimed to the world. The institution and its leaders may stumble, but the light of Christ will not be extinguished. God’s truth will be made known. In Jesus Christ, God’s truth is revealed not only through prophets and sages, but through God incarnate—the Word made flesh.
The fullness of that revelation is beyond our grasp, but the essentials are clear. Spiritual hunger is never fully satisfied, but it is richly fed and nourished by God’s abounding and steadfast love. The way of peace, harmony, and true prosperity is the way of love revealed in all that Jesus taught and commanded. Faith is part belief, part trust—and even faith the size of a mustard seed is enough. No one, at any time or place, is excluded from God’s saving grace. Spiritual practices can assist us on the journey, but making them into a religion unto themselves can obstruct the fuller presence of God in one’s life. Worship, prayer, and community are necessary for spiritual nourishment.
Different denominations express our shared faith in different ways. No one denomination is the true church—but some institutions that call themselves Christian fall far short of the path Jesus set before us.
And what of other religions? It is not ours to limit how God may be working with and through others. We only know the faith that has been entrusted to us—and we want to share it with everyone. Yet we are also called to humility, reminded by the words God spoke through the prophet Isaiah:—Isaiah 55
Seek the Lord while he may be found,
call upon him while he is near;
let the wicked forsake their way,
and the unrighteous their thoughts;
let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them,
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
Responding to No Alternative to Religion,” I would add two additional factors that were part of the tumult of the 1960s and 1970s- the discomfort many in the church had related to national bodies supporting civil rights and opposing the Vietnam War; in other words challenging White racism and uncritical nationalism created conflict in which oftentimes loyalty to race and/or nation trumped commitment to Christ. I have wondered in recent years if, given the opportunity, many Methodist churches would have left the denomination over the National church’s commitments to racial inclusion.