Sunday 25 May 2014

A Point of View: Is it better to be religious than spiritual?


 More and more people are rejecting religion but embracing spirituality. But have they got things the wrong way around, asks Tom Shakespeare.

After a relationship break up a few years ago, I signed on to a dating website. Filling in my online profile, I was interested to discover that the question on religious belief included an option that was new to me. You could tick boxes for the major religions, or for atheist, or for SBNR, which I discovered stands for "Spiritual But Not Religious".

Whereas the word "religion" generally refers to organised forms of worship and a wider faith community, "spiritual" often describes people's private individual beliefs.

A few minutes on Google revealed that SBNR is more than just an acronym. One in three Americans defined themselves as spiritual but not religious. Millions of people now think of themselves as on their own personal spiritual path, but not affiliated to any specific religion. American sociologists Robert Putnam and David Campbell talk about "Nones" - people who belong to no religion but still believe in God. Others have used the term "moralistic therapeutic deism" to refer to how young people are turning towards a vague belief that God exists and the point of life is to be happy. You could also call it "pseudo-religion".

The people who tick the SBNR box are distinguishing themselves from atheism. They would probably believe in some supreme being or higher power. Perhaps they're interested in Eastern spirituality or some eclectic mixture of ideas.


SBNR reflects a rejection of the dogmas of organised religion, even repugnance at the abuses committed in the name of Christianity and Islam and Judaism and Hinduism and Buddhism. I think it connects to the explosion of so-called personal growth movements in the West since the 1960s, such as yoga or transcendental meditation, as well as to new religious movements like paganism and Scientology.
The rise of SBNR comes in the context of declining organised religion, at least in the UK. Fewer of us are calling ourselves Christians. According to the Census, numbers fell from just over 70% in 2001 to less than 60% in 2011. That's still a majority of the population - and other religions make up another 5% or so - but only one million of us will attend church this week. More than a quarter of Britons do not identify with any particular religion,

But few members of this group are fully paid-up followers of Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris or other humanist prophets. People might say, "I am not interested in organized religion, but I do have room in my life for spirituality." They have a sense that there is something "above and beyond" the everyday. They have beliefs, a faith in some transcendental force, or whatever, however inchoate it may be. It reminds me of the quotation from Carl Jung: "You can take away a man's gods, but only to give him others in return."

I want to challenge this approach, and explain why I was unwilling to tick the SBNR box on that dating website. I worry that SBNR can just be vague, lacking the rigour which comes from centuries of refinement and debate. And unlike traditional religions, it doesn't have much to say about charity and justice.

Perhaps this is because it is a reflection of the individualism that seems to be such a problem in western societies. People want a reassuring set of beliefs that makes them feel better about their own life, rather than being challenged to help others or make the world a better place.

For all these reasons, I agree with the writer James Martin when he says that "spirituality without religion can become a self-centered complacency divorced from the wisdom of a community". But then Martin is a Jesuit, and so of course he wants those wishy-washy spiritual believers to sign up to his organised faith.


Whereas my biggest problem with SBNR is the opposite. It's that it often retains the mumbo-jumbo, aspects of religion. People have rejected the shelf with the ready-made religious beliefs, and gone straight around the corner to the pick'n'mix shop to buy a more or less random set of beliefs which are, if anything, even more incredible. Many people who are spiritual but not religious reject the organisation but hang on to the supernatural bit. But I don't want to be required to have faith in a supreme being or miracles or reincarnation, or any entity for which there is no scientific evidence.

So, that makes me a humanist then? Not at all. Because don't we have four options?

We can be religious and spiritual - which is the traditional faith approach
We can be spiritual but not religious - which is the new age pick and mix approach
We can be humanist - which is neither religious nor spiritual
Or, perhaps, we can be religious but not spiritual
This last choice works best for me.

The word "religion" is thought to derive from Latin "religare", to bind or connect. I think that sense of a connection is the key point. Religion offers a bond between individuals and it helps them form a connection to the wider universe. The great French sociologist Emile Durkheim differentiated between belief, which was private, and religion, which was social.

I think what we need today is more connection with each other, and with our damaged world. I don't think humanists offer us much help with that. Humanism is not positive but negative - it centres on rejecting religion. I think traditional religions do offer connections, but at the cost of demanding that we believe improbable things. So that's why I'd advocate being religious in a non-traditional way.


Without religion, the danger is that an individual thinks that he or she is the centre of the universe. Religion asks more of you than just to look after yourself. Because religion is a collective practice, it enables us to learn from others around us, and from a history of sincere and disciplined examination of the problems of life - a history which is sometimes called the Wisdom Traditions. Through reflection and discussion in the context of religion, we can achieve discernment, which means seeing reality more clearly.

I think that many people who identify as religious are not spiritual, at least in the sense of having a belief in a god or supernatural force. They may have a non-realist view of religion, which means that they consider religions to be human and pragmatic, not supernatural and god-given.

In my case, I am a Quaker, so I sit in silence for an hour a week with like-minded people, and I try to live according to Christian principles. But a few years ago, I stayed with a colleague's family in upstate New York. They were Jewish, and around the house there were mezuzot, a menorah and the newsletter from their local synagogue. But as we talked, I realised that although they attended services regularly, they did not have any particular belief in God. In fact, they had pretty much exactly the same outlook on the world as I did. And I suspect many people who sit in Anglican pews on Sundays are similar. They're going through certain rituals, and value membership in a community of folk trying to lead more meaningful lives, but their belief in a supernatural being is minimal or non-existent.

If you're an atheist, I can heartily recommend involvement in religion. It offers a sense of belonging and it offers tradition, which can be reassuring and comforting. It offers discipline, teaching us that there is something outside ourselves to which we should bend our personal will. If we do it right, religion helps us lead better lives, with a commitment to justice and social action. Sociological research shows that involvement in organised religion is good for our health and well being.


So this week, why not find a time to sit in silence with your fellows, or sing with them, or read a holy book with them, or commune with them. Take a moment to reflect on your place in the universe and your obligations towards others. Belief in God is strictly optional.


What is the Difference Between Religion and Spirituality?


I'm in recovery and suspect that my addictions keep me from knowing something. But what?
Addictions are like mud on a mirror: when we look into it, we cannot see our true self. Addictions keep us from seeing ourselves as a manifestation of God the way a wave is an extension of an ocean. Moving beyond addiction leads us to the greatest freedom we can know: the freedom to be who we are — creative agents for justice and compassion.

What is the difference between religion and spirituality? 
Religion is often about who’s in and who’s out, creating a worldview steeped in “us against them.” Spirituality rejects this dualism and speaks of us and them. Religion is often about loyalty to institutions, clergy, and rules. Spirituality is about loyalty to justice and compassion. Religion talks about God. Spirituality helps to make us godly. The two need not be at odds. Religion at its best is spirituality in community. 

As a kid I was deeply wounded by my church, but I want to return. What can I do to protect myself from being traumatized again?
Religious institutions that do harm are those that insist you surrender your will to them, rather than to God. Clergy who do harm are those who insist you worship them, rather than God. When a religion insists it speaks for God and asserts that by rejecting it, you are rejecting God, it is a danger to everyone. If you need a church, make sure it is one that points beyond itself to a God of love, justice, and personal autonomy and freedom. If you need clergy, make sure they free you for God, rather than chain you to themselves and their view of God.

I am tired of listening to pastors rant about sin. Yes, I sin, but I do good things as well. We aren’t sinners; we are doers. Why focus on sin and damnation?
Frightening people with sin and threatening them with eternal damnation is meant to keep people in line. Religion is often about getting people to conform to the beliefs and mores of those who run the religion. We would be better served if our religions could uncover, cultivate, and support our capacity for justice and kindness, rather than harp on our failures.

I am single, childless, and financially unsuccessful. How can I get comfortable with myself and learn to accept what’s happened to me in my life?
I would need to know so much more before answering your question directly, but I would offer two points: First, nothing happens to you. There is no you outside the happening. Things happen with you or maybe as you but not to you. Life is completely participatory. Saying that things happen to you implies that there is a you separate from the happening — a you who should be married, who should have kids, who should be successful — but this is only fantasy. There is just the you that is happening now. Second, to be comfortable with yourself, you have to know who the “me” is that needs to be comfortable. Are there two “yous,” one who is unmarried, without kids, and poor, and another who needs to be comfortable with this state of affairs? As long as you are split this way you will always be uncomfortable, even if you marry, have children, and become wealthy. To explore this further, I suggest you read Byron Katie’s book Loving What Is .

Spiritual practice often calls upon us to surrender the self, but people suffering from trauma or abuse need to build the self up, rather than tear it down. Is spirituality a danger to such people?
Spirituality is a process for discovering who you are and why you are here. Who you are is God: the singular divine Self manifesting as your unique self. Why you are here is to cultivate the self in such a way as to be a more effective vehicle of the Self and in this way, make your world more just, loving, meaningful, and holy. Authentic spirituality heals the traumatized self by opening it to the divine Self, and then releases the healed self to make the world more godly. There is no need to surrender or abandon the self, only the need to place it in its proper relationship with Self.

I believe I was a Jew with Moses in Sinai. Can I claim to be Jewish in this life?
Some Jews believe in a pintele Yid, a Jewish spark that gets trapped in a non-Jewish life. Honoring this spark means converting to Judaism. The last time you were a Jew, you wandered for 40 years in the wilderness. Don’t make the same mistake twice.

I have been reading your column and this magazine for several years, and I’m so blessed by what I read. I want to know if it’s all right to quote you.
No. We quote sources to support our own thinking. The sources are authorities. I’m not an authority. All I do is share my opinions. If you agree with me, then share with others what you believe is true. You don’t need me to back you up. If you don’t agree with me, why share what I say at all? Speak your truth, not mine.

I can forgive others but not myself. Why is this so? What can I do to forgive myself?
I won’t presume to know your specific situation, but in general, people who can forgive others but not themselves are often people who think way too much of and about themselves. Can it be that your failings are so much worse than those of others? Can it be that you, alone in all the world, are unforgiveable? This smacks of narcissism. The issue may not be forgiving yourself but getting over yourself.

If this isn’t too personal, when you pray, what does God “look” like? 
I make a distinction between prayer and meditation. Prayer engages the soul, that level of consciousness that maintains a sense of I/Thou as part of a greater whole. Meditation engages the spirit, pure I/I consciousness that cannot be turned into an object and thus cannot become an object of conversation. When I pray, I encounter God as Thou. For me, this Thou is the Divine Mother — Chochma/Sophia/Wisdom — that aspect of the divine that manifests in the world as the world. I speak with her daily, and feel blessed and humbled as she mirrors back to me the madness of my life, and encourages me to move beyond it. When I meditate, there are moments when “I” am gone. Of these moments of pure spirit I can say nothing. When they pass I find myself filled with compassion for and from all beings.