Religion is Relevant: Connection
When I was a teenager, I left the Catholic Church and spent nearly two decades living a “spiritual but not religious” life. During that time I felt a little lost. I knew what I believed, but had no one to share my beliefs with. It was a lonely time.
After the birth of my daughter, I found my way back to organized religion. I didn’t realize how important having the support of a spiritual community really was until I had one again. I wish I had figured that out sooner and saved myself years of feeling isolated. With my series “Religion is Relevant,” I will share what I’ve learned along my journey so far. Hopefully it will help you with yours.
Where I live in Massachusetts, we are more than a week into some serious social distancing. Our governor closed the schools and banned gatherings of more than 10 people, including church services. Because my daughter is not yet school age, and my husband and I have been working from home together on and off for months, we don’t feel too much of a disruption in our day-to-day lives, but we are experiencing the effects of social isolation. My daughter feels lonely without her play group friends, I miss being able to go out to stores and restaurants, and my husband is coping with his Saturday morning running club being on hold.
Fortunately, we live in the age of the internet and can stay connected to friends and family via text, Facebook, and FaceTime calls. Admittedly, it is kind of fun to catch up with some friends I haven’t talked in a while. There is an unexpected loss in all of this, however: church. While I know I could watch any number of live-streamed services from other Unitarian Universalist churches, the sermon isn’t what I’m missing.
I miss the in-person connection to my fellow church members. The friendships I’ve made through church are different from my other friendships. They exist in a separate realm from the friends I’ve made in through school, work, and my daughter’s play groups. They satisfy a different need in my life. Although I miss Sunday service, I am grateful I’ve made these connections, because they are helping to keep me sane.
A few of us have enjoyed walking through a local park together during our now free time on Sundays. We stay six-ish feet apart as we disrupt the woodland serenity with our laughter and chit-chat. We catch up on how we’ve coped with a week of isolation, homeschooling, diminished work schedules, and anxiety. Even though I’m still in the early “getting to know you” stage with some of these individuals, we all have a special connection already. I can be vulnerable with these people. Vulnerable in a way that doesn’t elicit memes, platitudes, or judgment.
The truth of it is, we are vulnerable together every Sunday morning when we worship, because to open yourself up to any type of spiritual fulfillment means you are also open to harm. I know this from when I opened myself to Catholicism (twice) and was hurt each time. I know this from when I explored neopaganism alone and remained unfulfilled. I know this from when I looked into other Christian sects, but still couldn’t reconcile my personal beliefs with Christianity’s — no matter how “liberal” the denomination.
By the time I found the Unitarian Universalist church, the stakes were already pretty low. If I didn’t like it, I would simply go back to being unchurched. There was no big risk involved. As it turns out, that small risk had a big reward. I found a place where my vulnerability was met with compassion, my need to keep my own beliefs was honored, and my desire to connect with others sated.
If I didn’t have these new connections, I would be a lot worse off emotionally right now. I’ve learned that you can be vulnerable alone, or you can be vulnerable with a group. And only during the latter will your vulnerability be soothed.
