I hear it quite often as well. I usually hear it said with a bit of pride added in for good measure.
I understood it better when I was first moving away from atheism into somethingism. It felt safe. It didn't require any black-and-white absolutes. It felt like protection from having to hold well-formed theological positions about which I knew very little and, at the time, had no need to know.
It took time and God's grace to keep moving closer and closer to the very Corporeal Holy Eucharist.
I like to think of 'spiritual but not religious' as an estuary, a vital, sheltered nursery that protects some of us from large, false religious predators.
John, this is a really thoughtful reflection. I appreciate the way you described that stage as an “estuary.” That image stays with you.
What you said makes a lot of sense. For many people, “spiritual but not religious” is not rebellion. It is a kind of beginning. A place where something has awakened, but has not yet taken full form. It can feel safer there. Less defined. Less demanding. More open.
And in that sense, I agree with you. It can be a protected space. Even a necessary one for some.
But what struck me in your comment is where the estuary leads.
An estuary is not the final destination. It is a place of transition. Like a place where fresh water meets the ocean. A place that prepares life for something deeper and more expansive.
And that is exactly what you described. Moving, over time, by grace, toward something more real. More grounded. More fully revealed. Not just an idea of God, but a "living" encounter.
What you called “the very Corporeal Holy Eucharist” is not something we arrive at by accident. It is something we are drawn toward.
In other words:
Spirituality can awaken the desire.
Religion, properly understood, leads us to the encounter.
Thank you for sharing that. There is a lot of wisdom in it, and I think many people will recognize themselves somewhere in that journey.
I hear it quite often as well. I usually hear it said with a bit of pride added in for good measure.
I understood it better when I was first moving away from atheism into somethingism. It felt safe. It didn't require any black-and-white absolutes. It felt like protection from having to hold well-formed theological positions about which I knew very little and, at the time, had no need to know.
It took time and God's grace to keep moving closer and closer to the very Corporeal Holy Eucharist.
I like to think of 'spiritual but not religious' as an estuary, a vital, sheltered nursery that protects some of us from large, false religious predators.
May God bless us all.
John, this is a really thoughtful reflection. I appreciate the way you described that stage as an “estuary.” That image stays with you.
What you said makes a lot of sense. For many people, “spiritual but not religious” is not rebellion. It is a kind of beginning. A place where something has awakened, but has not yet taken full form. It can feel safer there. Less defined. Less demanding. More open.
And in that sense, I agree with you. It can be a protected space. Even a necessary one for some.
But what struck me in your comment is where the estuary leads.
An estuary is not the final destination. It is a place of transition. Like a place where fresh water meets the ocean. A place that prepares life for something deeper and more expansive.
And that is exactly what you described. Moving, over time, by grace, toward something more real. More grounded. More fully revealed. Not just an idea of God, but a "living" encounter.
What you called “the very Corporeal Holy Eucharist” is not something we arrive at by accident. It is something we are drawn toward.
In other words:
Spirituality can awaken the desire.
Religion, properly understood, leads us to the encounter.
Thank you for sharing that. There is a lot of wisdom in it, and I think many people will recognize themselves somewhere in that journey.