6 Ways to Cope with Religious and Spiritual Struggles

In the 2023 song “God must hate me,” Catie Turner writes:

“Do you ever see someone and think ‘Wow, God must hate me’
‘Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy
Got ample mental illness personality flaws
While their only flaw seems to be is that they have none at all…
I don’t know what I believe
But it’s easier to think
He made a mistake with me.”

Have you ever felt anything like this? Although religion and spirituality can be helpful to people, they also can be sources of stress or even trauma. These lyrics demonstrate the emotional power of what psychologists often term “religious and spiritual struggles.”

What is a Religious or Spiritual Struggle?

A religious or spiritual struggle involves a tension or conflict an individual may experience in relation to what they consider sacred. For instance, like in the song lyrics above, a person may feel angry, disappointed, abandoned, or rejected by God. Someone may wrestle with their beliefs or the ultimate meaning of their lives. An individual also may be upset by interactions they’ve had with others within religious or spiritual communities or feel hurt or offended by the teachings of a faith.

The Effects of Struggling with Religion and Spirituality

Research conducted across a variety of contexts and groups consistently reveals how religious and spiritual struggles predict poorer mental and physical health. For instance, individuals who report more religious and spiritual struggles also tend to report more anxiety, depression, and suicidality as well as lower satisfaction with life and overall happiness.

Experiencing religious and spiritual struggles may also underlie why many people disengage from a religion, an increasingly common occurrence. For example, people may withdraw from a religion when they feel negative emotions toward God, such as in the lyrics that opened this article. As another example, individuals may pull back from religion if they experience judgment from others or disagreement about political issues in their religious community as well as when they feel dissonance about belonging to a group they feel has perpetrated prejudice or violence.

Given all this, what could help people wrestling with stress and trauma associated with religion and spirituality? Below are six suggestions informed by the research on this topic.

6 Ways of Coping with Religious and Spiritual Struggles

1. Realize you’re not alone. Experiencing religious and spiritual struggles appears fairly common. In one study, for example, when a national sample of adults were asked to name a specific religious or spiritual struggle they experienced in the past few months, about 40% could do so. Furthermore, many of the heroes of religious faith – from Job to Jesus to Mother Teresa, in the Judeo-Christian faith, for instance – also struggled with matters of the sacred. Realizing this may help decrease the sense of guilt, shame, or moral unacceptability you may feel.  

Is God Replaceable?

In recent years, many of us shifted our approach to religion and spirituality. Particularly in places with more resources, such as certain regions of the United States and Europe, religion generally became less popular.

As a team of psychologists of religion led by Julie Exline recently noted, shifts away from religion occur in at least three forms. First, an individual may be “done” with religion entirely. That is, they may no longer consider themselves religious and may no longer affiliate with a religious community at all. Second, a person may continue to identify as religious, but may pull back their involvement. For instance, someone may decrease attendance at religious services or spend less time reading religious texts. Third, an individual may disengage from their religious identity and religious participation and instead focus on spirituality.

New Ways to Meet Ancient Needs

In his book, “The Power of Ritual,” Casper Ter Kuile explores and advises on this third possibility. He argues that, though many people in the developed world became less religious in recent years, the underlying human needs that religion addresses continue to be vital for human flourishing. Ter Kuile writes:

“It may be helpful to think of the human longing that leads to religious culture as akin to music and the music industry, which has struggled mightily over the last twenty years, with CD sales in free fall for much of the 2000s and 2010s. But our love for music still endures… The same thing is happening in our spiritual lives… Attendance at congregations is down, but our hunger for community and meaning remains.”

In light of this, Ter Kuile puts a spotlight on something many of us may not have noticed: the creation and surge of engagement in what could be called spiritual “replacements” for religion. He continues:

“Formal affiliation is declining, but millions are downloading meditation apps and attending weekend retreats. Moreover, they find spiritual lessons and joys in completely ‘nonreligious’ places like yoga classes, Cleo Wade and Rupi Kaur poetry, and accompaniment groups like Alcoholic Anonymous and the Dinner Party… Stadium concerts and karaoke replace congregational singing, and podcasts and tarot decks replace sermons or wisdom teachings.”

Ter Kuile then notes some of the possibilities in this new era. Individuals can “unbundle traditions” and “remix them” with sacred rituals that build community and create meaning. In line with this, along with Vanessa Zoltan, Ter Kuile created the popular podcast “Harry Potter and the Sacred Text” as a way for individuals to virtually gather and ritually share a close reading of a beloved book series.  

As another example, I recently went for a hike in my local state park in Afton, Minnesota. Following Ter Kuile, as I left my car, I powered down my phone to more intentionally connect with the natural beauty I encountered. I then made a point to look for a tree in the park to connect with, a tree I decided would be old and gnarly, one that stood out from the rest. I found one matching these criteria overlooking the St. Croix River, and I mindfully walked around it three times in a kind of sacred gesture to both appreciate the tree and ritualize its significance. Next time I hike at this park, that tree will surely have added meaning for me.

Questions about Spiritual “Replacements”

There’s plenty of research evidence to show that increasing community and meaning contribute to positive life outcomes such as enhanced well-being. I do wonder, though, whether these spiritual “replacements” could start generating their own doubts and questions for people. For example, what really constitutes a “sacred” text? Is Harry Potter sufficient? Would Mary Oliver’s poetry or some other text be better?

One Insight from Indigenous Spirituality that Promotes Resilience

On February 1, 2012, American Indian Studies Professor, David Mathieu, received the call that is every parent’s worst nightmare. David’s beloved daughter, Felicity, had suddenly died when her car collided with a semi-truck on an icy, two-lane, highway in rural southern Minnesota. She was only 27 years old.

Like anyone who has lost a loved one like this, David struggled mightily with grief. He wrested with questions such as:

“Should we have done something different that would have avoided this accident? Who was at fault? What did we do wrong? Why did she choose to live in a rural area with dangerous roads? How could this happen? Was she or were we being punished? What was the role of God in this tragedy?”

In the aftermath of this horrific event, David’s long-time study of Lakota spirituality – particularly conversations at the Cheyenne River Reservation in South Dakota with medicine men Sidney Keith and Martin High Bear – took on new significance.

A central facet of Lakota spirituality is the concept of Wakan, translated as “Mystery.” In his book, “Way of Wakan: Reflections on Lakota Spirituality and Grief,” Mathieu explains:

“Wakan is, at its core, an ambiguous, yet very honest, explanation of why we cannot understand a reality we desperately wish we could. Wakan, then, is a spiritual ‘position’ on which to base an understanding of one’s spiritual and physical world as well as the relationship between the two.”

Acknowledging the Mystery of the situation helped David with his initial questions and urge to blame someone or something for his daughter’s death. He elaborates:

“Everyone from the driver of the semi-truck, to inadequate roads in southern Minnesota, to the whole area where she lived, and even to Felicity herself for not paying attention to her driving, not taking precautions, seemingly not caring… Blame has no place when all is Wakan and unknowable.”

What seems uniquely powerful about this reliance on Wakan is the humble recognition that some things are simply unknowable to us humans. To suggest anything otherwise would, in fact, be considered presumptuous. Some things just happen, and desperate as we are to find answers, we can’t really know why. This isn’t just a practical perspective in Lakota spirituality; the lack of knowing itself is deemed Sacred. As David writes:

How Contemplative Practices Promote Health and Well-Being

In a review of everything currently known about the topic, researchers recently developed a scientific model of how contemplative practices of various kinds may encourage better physical and psychological health. Published in Psychological Review, one of the flagship academic journals of the American Psychological Association, this new model advances our understanding of the adverse effects of stress and what can be done to combat it.

The researchers note there are four primary stress-related states we all experience: (1) acute stress (example: arguing with a spouse), (2) moderate threat (example: working), (3) rest (example: watching TV), and (4) deep rest (the least studied of the four, but most beneficial). Although many believe that rest is our baseline, default state, the scientists in this article suggest that, in the United States (and, by extension, in other developed countries), most adults now spend most of their daytime hours in moderate threat arousal, which drains of us of the restorative energy we need to function at our best. In fact, considerable research conducted over many decades demonstrates that this level of chronic stress contributes to various physical and psychological health problems ranging from heart disease to immune suppression, from chronic pain to depression. Individuals from marginalized groups seem particularly likely to experience this degree of toxic stress, helping to explain some of the health inequities we observe in certain groups such as people of color and individuals with poor economic resources.

Whereas acute stress and moderate threat cause sympathetic nervous system activity, deep rest is characterized by the dominance of the parasympathetic nervous system. The parasympathetic nervous system basically calms us. The researchers in the Psychological Review article further speculate that deep rest may be uniquely restorative at a cellular level. In this way – though there are surely limits – deep rest may be physically and psychologically “healing.”

Although there may be several activities that promote deep rest and enhance the body’s restorative capacity, most emphasized in the article is how contemplative practices may play a unique role. As noted by the authors, “contemplative practices are mind-body exercises that are intentionally practiced to work toward inner well-being, psychological flourishing, and deep connection with self, the world, or a higher power.” Examples of such practices include deep prayer, chanting, meditation, yoga, Tai Chi, and Qigong.

To achieve deep rest, the researchers suggest that individuals must feel safe, and that contemplative practices provide unique opportunities for doing so, for several reasons. First, contemplative practices typically are conducted in safe spaces. Examples include intentionally secluded spaces, a harmonious environment, or a natural setting. A sensory component may further cue feelings of safety, such as when essential oils or incense are used. A tactical dimension of the practices may enhance their effects as well. For instance, slowly and rhythmically advancing prayer beads through one’s fingers may promote a sense of absorption through sensations of touch. Second, contemplative practices can be performed in a socially safe environment, including trusted teachers and fellow practitioners. Engaging in a practice in unison with others may evoke a sense of group belonging and sense of awe, adding to the benefits. Finally, contemplative practices may work to create a sense of safety through reduction of distressing thoughts, increase of bodily awareness, improved attentional capacity, and strengthened skills of emotional regulation. In these ways, contemplative practices may be particularly meaningful for those who often lack safety, especially those on the margins of society.

Pexels | Thirdman

Most contemplative practices also encourage slowed and/or regulated breathing, either intentionally or as a result of the calming practice, providing another mechanism for achieving deep rest. In one study, for example, participants told to repeat prayers of either Ave Maria or a yoga mantra slowed their breathing rate to 6 breaths per minute, a rate other research has found to be linked with positive health outcomes. In fact, there is growing research evidence that long-term contemplative practice may change our baseline stress state and make it easier to slip into deep rest as well as deep, nonrapid, eye movement sleep, the stage of sleep that most restores us physically and psychologically.

In many locations in the world where chronic stress is highest, religious involvement is dropping, perhaps contributing to the increase in disorders we’re also observing in those places. Perhaps as a result, many individuals are trying contemplative practices on their own, implementing practices into their lives with the hope they will nurture higher well-being. This new model integrating what is known about contemplative practices, stress, and the body’s restorative capacity further validates the benefits of such practices, whether they occur within a community or whether they are practiced individually. For the average person, all of this may serve as a reminder that taking time to intentionally and deeply connect with one’s self, the world, or a higher power may be one of the most powerful things we can do to manage stress and attain holistic health.

Reference:

Crosswell, A. D., Mayer, S. E., Whitehurst, L. N., Picard, M., Zebarjadian, S., & Epel, E. S. (2023, December 25). Deep rest: An integrative model of how contemplative practices combat stress and enhance the body’s restorative capacity. Psychological Review, Advance online publication.

This post also appears on my Psychology Today blog.

The Question-Centered Course

Initially motivated by my concerns about how many courses seem increasingly guided by textbooks and publisher resources, this article published today at Inside Higher Ed seeks to bring together many of my thoughts about teaching and learning in higher education.

How to Make the Most of College

Like it has done for so many, college transformed me.

It started on freshman move-in day. My dad, my brother, and I drove 4 ½ hours from my small town of 300 people in rural Minnesota to the eye-popping, “big city” of Madison, Wisconsin. I enrolled in the University of Wisconsin because I had watched the University compete on television in Big 10 sports. Beyond that, I knew very little of what I was getting myself into. So, on move-in-day, I was astonished by the city: the grandeur of the state capital, the beauty of the lakes surrounding campus, and the expansive cultural life scattered throughout.

It took a while for me to orient myself, but I eventually settled into my new home, where I gradually encountered a variety of mind-stretching experiences. When the first semester started, I couldn’t believe I was being taught by renowned experts who raised deep issues and facilitated far-reaching discussions about ideas way beyond anything I previously realized even existed. I went with my friends to ethnic restaurants, with flavors I never tasted before. I visited an art museum for the first time. I attended massive political rallies, being exposed to people with passions and perspectives unlike any I had ever encountered.

I enrolled in what was to become my favorite college course – Environmental Science – during my second year. Most evocative for me was the weekly required lab, usually consisting of a field trip. One trip especially stands out. We met at our Professor’s home, located on the edge of a wetland outside Madison. It was a cold, January afternoon, and there was at least 6 inches of snow on the ground. The Professor eventually led us to a bubbling brook in which I was stunned to find vibrant, green watercress growing. He picked some for us to taste. Not only did I not realize any vegetable grew in this kind of winter climate, I was dumbfounded by the peppery, fresh flavor and icy, crisp texture of the watercress itself. This course, more than any other experience I’ve ever had, nurtured in me a love of nature and a commitment to conservation.

After four years of these kinds of encounters, my mind had expanded in ways that made me almost unrecognizable from the person I had been previously. In retrospect – and knowing what I know now – I believe this is because college regularly exposed me to feelings of awe.

According to Dacher Kelter, in his book, “Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life,” awe “is the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends your understanding of the world.” To clarify, many kinds of vastness can trigger this emotion. For instance, we might feel awe in the presence of something huge, powerful, timeless, or complex. Other people can leave us awestruck as well because of their astounding knowledge, virtue, or skill.

Twenty years of research on the emotion of awe reveals many unique positive effects. For example, awe takes the focus off of ourselves, humbling us in the presence of something beyond us. Physiologically, awe can bring tears to our eyes, chills to our bodies, and goosebumps to our skin. More broadly, awe promotes well-being and interpersonal connection. It may even decrease the body’s inflammation response.

Less research has explored how awe impacts learning and development, but a deeper inspection yields some clues. According to the great psychologist, Jean Piaget, our minds grow through two interrelated processes: assimilation and accommodation. When we assimilate, we fit new experiences into our existing mental frameworks, something not possible during awe. This is because the vastness of what we’re encountering in an awe experience cannot be comprehended with our current way of thinking. As a result, we’re absorbed into a process of trying to reduce the discrepancy between our new knowledge and our pre-existing knowledge. As we do so, we may feel confused, disoriented, or even frightened, as we feel a need to accommodate and create an expanded or entirely different mental framework. We may start to wonder and become curious about new questions. If we can successfully expand our minds in ways that incorporate the new information, we may significantly change how we think, what we believe, and potentially even how we self-identify. Even if we can’t ever fully accommodate an experience, our lives may be taken into different directions as we explore a new passion.

In his book, Keltner describes 8 common sources of “everyday wonder,” any of which could spark transformative change. These sources include exposure to lives and acts of moral beauty; the collective effervescence of big events, rallies, and ceremonies; various features of the natural world; music; visual design; great mysteries that often underlie religion and spirituality; the beginning and end of life; and ideas and truths that stretch our minds beyond what we previously believed was possible. College can regularly expose students to these kinds of stimuli.

Steven Cordes | Unsplash

Based on all this, my best advice to students is to seek awe during your time in college, inside and outside the classroom. Get involved in opportunities that stretch you, such as service learning, internships, field trips, community events, and study abroad and away programs. You may occasionally feel confused, disoriented, and even frightened because of what you’re experiencing. That’s okay: a real education requires some degree of discomfort. Pay attention to what brings you awe and follow that path, seeing what interests and passions that leads you toward. Give yourself space to wonder, to figure things out. Then, when you walk across the stage at your graduation ceremony, you, too, may find you have transformed into a version of yourself you wouldn’t have thought possible when you began.

Encounter

by Czeslaw Milosz

“We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.

And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.

That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.

O my love, where are they, where are they going
The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.”

Rediscovering a Religious or Spiritual Life

Many of us are frustrated by religion. According to the General Social Survey – a large, representative survey done every few years for the past several decades – the number of Americans who say they have no religion increased from 5% in 1972 to 29% last year, for example. The COVID-19 pandemic also provided a pause from religious attendance that allowed many of us to take a step back and reconsider how we really feel about our religious beliefs, practices, and commitments.

Why are so many people “done” with religion? Researchers in one study asked individuals who said they were once – but no longer – religious to write about their primary reason for the change. By far the most common reason (52%) was intellectual, such as when a person felt their previous religious beliefs conflicted with science or logic, or when they felt they simply “outgrew” their old beliefs. Another common reason (22%) was because individuals said they didn’t feel they could be a part of an institution they felt caused trauma to themselves or others or that they believed perpetrated hatred toward certain groups, such as members of the LGBTQ population. A third reason (15%) was because people experienced personal adversity they couldn’t reconcile with their religious beliefs. Finally, some (11%) noted social reasons, such as feeling like they didn’t “fit in” with a religious community.

Research suggests “religious dones” tend to have a history of religious and spiritual struggles but that these struggles often lift when they form a non-religious identity. On the other hand, studies show how, in religious settings and groups, formerly religious people often hide their newfound beliefs and values, again feeling a lack of belonging. In addition, a good deal of research points to the significant positive resources provided by religion and spirituality. Relinquishing these resources may come with some long-term costs. For instance, doing away with all of our religious and spiritual customs may mean our children do not experience several significant rituals or rites of passage that aid in their development.

It’s not healthy to suppress our struggles with religion. Are there ways to be honest with our frustrations while still pursuing a religious or spiritual dimension to our lives? Below are five ideas for how we might do so.

1. Go deeper into religion.

Sometimes, there are resources in our religious traditions that can help us work through our frustrations. For example, many religions have insightful analyses of how faith and science can be integrated. Traditions frequently have resources for helping us reconcile the suffering we’ve experienced with our religious beliefs. A deeper exploration often points to how our religious frustrations are rooted in how religious teachings are commonly interpreted and practiced – frequently by people less informed – instead of the best a religion has to offer. In this way, digging further into religion can be the spark for personal growth and deeper understanding.

How Awe Can Transform Students

Honored to share some thoughts with Times Higher Education on the transforming power of awe in college. Just thought I’d share the link here.

5 Ways Religion Is Better than Spirituality

I’ve taught a course in the Psychology of Religion and Spirituality for about 20 years. As part of this course, I often invite speakers to share their religious and spiritual life stories and insights with the class. One of the most provocative perspectives ever shared came from a Jewish speaker. To paraphrase, he would say:

I know many of you consider yourselves more spiritual than religious, and I know there are many benefits to personal spirituality. However, I have a different take on this. I believe religion is better than spirituality. And I believe this is increasingly so.

The Meaning of “Religion” and “Spirituality”

Although these concepts prove extraordinarily difficult – if not impossible – to adequately define, let me clarify terms as much as possible. In general, religiousness entails behavior concerning the Sacred consistent with what an institution prescribes. Spirituality, in contrast, involves an autonomous question for what is true and meaningful regarding the Sacred, whether inside or outside an institutional context.  

Thus, religiousness and spirituality are different but overlapping constructs. Religiousness involves action that harmonizes with a group’s teachings and customs to a greater extent. Spirituality focuses more on an individual’s personal and experiential quest. Common to both religiousness and spirituality is the Sacred: something that lasts forever or that evokes awe or reverence.

The Trend Toward Spirituality

Various surveys in the United States regularly ask respondents to select which of four options best describes them: (1) both religious and spiritual, (2) spiritual but not religious, (3) religious but not spiritual, and (4) neither religious nor spiritual. Results consistently show how respondents are most likely think of themselves as “both religious and spiritual.” However, individuals in these studies increasingly identify as “spiritual but not religious.” For instance, in nationally representative surveys of American adults from the Fetzer Institute, those indicating they were more spiritual than religious rose from 18.5% in 1998 to 33.6% in 2020.

Kevin Bluer | Unsplash

Five Unique Benefits of Religion

Some might consider the notion that religion has unique psychosocial benefits – compared with personal spirituality – offensive or, maybe ironically, “sacrilegious.” However, particularly at this moment in time, in our culture, consider the following:

One Powerful Way to Help Young People Who Are Struggling

As a parent, an educator, and an uncle, I worry about this generation of young people.

And there’s good reason to worry.

For example, according to the recently released Youth Behavior Risk Survey, 42% of American high school students felt so sad or hopeless during a 2-week period in 2021 that they stopped doing their usual activities (in 2011, this percentage was 28%). Sadness and hopelessness were especially high in females (57%) and LGBTQ youth (69%). As demonstrated by social psychologist Jean Twenge and others, loneliness also has been on the rise among young people. So have self-focus, individualism, and narcissism.

Do you relate to any of this? Do you personally know a young person who seems to be struggling with their mental health? Do you notice how many youths seem too narrowly self-focused?

What can we, as adults, do to help?

The short answer: we can help young people find more awe.

New Research on Awe in Kids

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about a research article, published recently in the journal Psychological Science. In two studies, researchers randomly assigned some 8-13 year olds to watch an animated movie clip eliciting awe, some to a clip eliciting joy, and some to a clip eliciting a neutral (control) response. Results showed that, compared to the joy and control conditions, the kids led to feel awe more likely participated in an effortful task and more likely demonstrated generosity toward refugees (a group not their own). Those led to feel awe also experienced more of a parasympathetic, calming bodily reaction associated with social engagement.

Awe is an emotional response to something vast that transcends our current frame of reference. The scientists who conducted the awe studies speculate about various activities that may nurture awe in young people. For instance, parents, teachers, or other adults might connect kids to stories that are highly unusual or even magical; music with unexpected harmonies or shifts in energy; amazing theatrical, artistic, or athletic performances; big buildings like cathedrals; and beautiful places in the natural world.     

Much of this stands in contrast to the common view that great literature, music, theater, art, and time spent in nature don’t have much real-world impact and that they are expendable from school curricula.

Applying This Research to Help Young People

Of course, many factors likely threaten youth mental health. Although I personally would love to see a nationwide prohibition of social media until the age of 18 – or at least a change in school policies such that times could be intentionally carved out during the school day when cell phones are not accessible to students – these changes lie largely beyond my control. As a parent, I could restrict my kids’ technology use – and I wish I had done that when they were younger – but I feel that, ultimately, in this culture, adding family restrictions may cause other problems. Overuse of technology seems to be more of a systemic, cultural problem.

A more effective, more practical strategy may be to help the young people in my life find more awe. I can do my best to encourage a love of reading, theater, music, art, and sports. I can enroll my kids in schools that are environmentally-focused. When I’m teaching, I can bring my classes outside, when possible. I can bring my son to a live concert. I can bring my nephew to the zoo.

Ian Schneider | Unsplash

Quaker Advices and Queries

Within Christianity, some traditions emphasize a more mystical and spiritual approach than others. One tradition I’ve been particularly intrigued by is Quaker spirituality.

Part of Quaker spiritual practice is to identify, share, and meditate on specific advices and queries. Some of these can be traced back to George Fox in the mid-1600s. In some ways, these advices and queries translate Quaker experiences and insights about the Gospels into modern life.

Communities might lead a service with reference to an advice or query, and individuals might meditate on one for an hour, a day, a week, or a year.

I’ve been studying Quaker advices and queries shared by meetings across the world for several years. Below I’ll share some of my favorites, which mostly come from the London, New York, and New England yearly meetings.

Apponegansett Meeting House, Jean Schnell

Advices:

Take heed to the promptings of love and truth in your heart.

Bring the whole of your life under the ordering of the spirit of Christ.

Seek to know an inward stillness, even amid the activities of daily life.

While respecting the experiences and opinions of others, do not be afraid to say what you have found and what you value.

Try to find a spiritual wholeness which encompasses suffering as well as thankfulness and joy.

Each of us has a particular experience of God and each must find the way to be true to it.

Listen patiently and seek the truth which other people’s opinions may contain for you.

Avoid hurtful criticism and provocative language.

Think it possible that you may be mistaken.

Try to make your home a place of loving friendship and enjoyment, where all who live or visit may find the peace and refreshment of God’s presence.

Let your life speak.

Responding to divine guidance, try to discern the right time to undertake or relinquish responsibilities without undue pride or guilt.

Search out whatever in your own way of life may contain the seeds of war.

Do not let the desire to be sociable, or the fear of seeming peculiar, determine your decisions.

Try to live simply.

Stand still, wait for divine guidance, then act.

Be grateful for the gifts you have. Neither be too proud of them nor value them too little. Do not waste time coveting the gifts of others.

Attend to what love requires of you.

Beacon Hill Meeting Room, Jean Schnell

Queries:

Are you open to the healing power of God’s love?

How does Jesus speak to you today? Are you following Jesus’ example of love in action? Are you learning from his life the reality and cost of obedience to God?

Do you respect that of God in everyone though it may be expressed in unfamiliar ways or be difficult to discern?

Five Spiritual Practices that Increase Well-Being

For thousands of years, religious and spiritual communities around the world have organized themselves around specific practices they find meaningful. In recent years, psychological scientists have been in conversation with such communities, trying to learn about these practices, sometimes refine them, and test the effects of related interventions on well-being. For those who consider themselves somehow spiritual – about 86% of American adults in one recent nationally representative survey – these activities may hold special significance. Although whether or not a practice really is “spiritual” depends on the person and what they hold sacred, these activities may be central parts of a lifestyle that prioritizes and integrates spirituality and well-being.

Below are five forms of spiritual practice that psychological research suggests increase well-being.

1. Meditation

Meditation practices refer to a broad collection of activities that seek to focus the mind. Really almost anything can be a support for attention during a meditation practice. For example, we can focus on our breathing, a meaningful word of our choice, a raisin, the movement of light on the floor as it comes through a window, the sound of a bird, sensations of emotional or physical pain, a text that holds spiritual significance, the kindness of a loved one, or the presence of the divine, just to name a few.

In recent years, a variety of apps have become available to help people engage in these kinds of activities. My favorite is the free “Healthy Minds Innovations” app from the Center for Healthy Minds at the University of Wisconsin – Madison.

2. Awe

Dacher Keltner defines awe as the feeling we get when we’re in the presence of a vast mystery that transcends our understanding of the world. For instance, we might feel awe in the presence of something huge, powerful, timeless, or intricate. Other people can leave us awestruck as well because of their astounding virtue, knowledge, or skill.

Priscilla Du Preez | Unsplash

Taking an intentional awe walk is one way we can seek awe. This might involve taking at least 15 minutes to stroll through a natural area, maybe one that brings us through a wooded area or field of flowers, or near a lake or river. Alternatively, we can take a walk under the night sky, at dawn or dusk, or while a thunderstorm is taking shape in the distance. As we take our walk, part of the practice entails taking our time to really try to take in what we notice as vast, for example by allowing ourselves to by swept away by a view or amazed by the detail of a flower.

3. Forgiveness

Forgiveness refers to a process of letting go of negative emotions and the urges to seek revenge or avoid another because of the pain they caused us. Importantly, forgiveness need not involve telling a person we forgive them, condoning or forgetting a hurtful action, or restoring a relationship.

In Awe of Death

My mom died from cancer when I was 14. Although her death wasn’t unexpected, it stunned me nonetheless.

One particular moment in the days following my mom’s death stands out. The night before the funeral, there was a wake in which her dead body was laid in an open casket so mourners could say their final goodbyes. For various reasons, I did not want to see my mom’s body, and I awkwardly tried to avoid it. Our priest – a good friend of mine, as well as my mom’s – must have noticed. He slowly walked up to me and, tenderly, asked if I’d like to go with him to see my mom one last time. He took my hand into his and we made our way. I believed I was supposed to feel sad and maybe even angry, and I felt those emotions as well. But, more than anything, as I gazed at my mom’s dead body, what I most felt was awe.

Dacher Keltner’s recently released book “Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life” most surprised me with its’ discussion of how often death evokes awe. In a study of 2,600 narratives coming from 26 countries, as described in the book, stories of death and awe were common. In a surprising demonstration of this, Keltner – the pioneering Berkeley psychologist most responsible for leading the way for a new science of awe – tells a story in the book similar to my own. As his beloved brother, Rolf, lay dying of cancer in front of him and his family, Keltner recounts:

“I felt small. Quiet. Humble. Pure. The boundaries that separated me from the outside world faded. I felt surrounded by something vast and warm. My mind was open, curious, aware, wondering.”

Keltner defines “awe” as “the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends your understanding of the world.” Given this definition, it’s easy to see why death so often evokes awe. When I stood in front of my mom’s dead body, for instance, I felt dumbfounded by questions such as “where did my mom go?,” “what does life mean?,” and “what is eternity?” These vast mysteries went well beyond anything my 14-year-old mind (or any mind) can comprehend, but my wondering led me to develop curiosities and eventually gain insights that have impacted the rest of my life. Of course, I wish my mom had lived much longer. At the same time, I wouldn’t be the person I am today – in a positive sense – if I hadn’t had to face her death like I did.

This connection between death and awe is, at least in part, why so many people become so fascinated by the morbid. For example, dark tourism may enable individuals to feel awed and to probe essential issues of life, death, sacredness, and meaning. I have led courses in the Psychology of the Holocaust, for instance, including trips to Holocaust sites in Europe, and rarely have I seen students so absorbed or impacted by phenomena being studied as when we directly encountered the overwhelming memorials of death we visited.

JJ Montalban | Unsplash

One Insight to Bring Into 2023

One habit I’ve sort of unintentionally fallen into in recent years is a year-end review. That is, I’ve been finding it interesting to take some time between Christmas and New Year’s every year to consider the highs and lows of the year, reflecting on what I can take from this year to build on for the next. With all the highs and lows that made up 2022, this poem I first heard on Parker Palmer and Carrie Newcomer’s podcast stands out:

Small Kindnesses, by Danusha Lameris

“I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs
to let you by. Or how strangers still say ‘bless you’
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. ‘Don’t die,’ we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us ‘honey’ when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, ‘Here,
have my seat,’ ‘Go ahead – you first,’ ‘I like your hat.’“

In particular, what gives me pause are lines that “we have so little of each other, now… only these brief moments of exchange.”

Like so many others,’ my life has changed during the past few years. COVID has meant I see students and colleagues far less often. My kids are getting older – one now in college – and they spend less time with us. The people I care for the most I don’t actually spend that much time with.

I resonate with the notion that the moments we have together may be “the true dwelling of the holy.” If I can remember to take one thing from this year into the next, it’s this: remember the sacredness of the times we have together – really appreciate them and make the most of them – for they are the essence of a good life.

Staying in Awe

The Emotional Life of Jesus

When I imagine Jesus – similar to when I imagine the Buddha – what initially comes to mind is someone who was pretty emotionally flat or emotionally neutral. If there’s an emotion I associate with Jesus, it’s one of serenity. Maybe this is because, when I consider Jesus, my mind’s eye turns to paintings and statues I’ve seen throughout my lifetime, such as the one my mom hung in our living room when I was a boy. In these, Jesus seemed to be beyond human emotion.

Heinrich Hofmann’s 1894 Painting | Wikimedia Commons

I’ve long been fascinated by emotion. Part of what inspired my calling to Psychology as an undergraduate were experiences at the University of Wisconsin helping to do research in influential emotion labs exploring embarrassment (with Dacher Keltner) and interest (with Judy Harackiewicz). In graduate school, at the University of Minnesota, I conducted research investigating correlates of emotional well-being, including anxiety, depression, hostility, and happiness (with Pat Frazier). I’m generally curious about how individuals feel, and I watch for non-verbal indications of how people react to life. It seems to me that someone’s emotional life reveals something deeply important about who they are.

I’ve also long been a follower of Jesus. Surely, a lot of this has to do with being raised in a Christian family in an often times Christian-dominant culture. But, there’s also something about the stories of Jesus that intrigue me. There’s something about who Jesus was that seems different, countercultural, and stunning.

It wasn’t until recently that I started to seriously explore the intersection of these two parts of myself. That is, I’ve started to wonder about the actual – not the imagined – emotional life of Jesus. In contrast to the sense I’ve received in some parts of Christianity to which I’ve been exposed, as I read it now, Jesus was a person of deep, passionate emotional intensity.

To explore Jesus’s emotional life, I did a focused study of the Gospel of Mark. This Gospel generally is considered by Bible scholars to be the earliest Gospel – written about 40 years after Jesus’s death. As the progressive Bible scholar, Marcus Borg argued, this account of Jesus’s life likely includes elements of both metaphor and remembered history, but the emotions attributed to Jesus, as discussed below, seem most likely to be traceable to the historical Jesus. As one reads this Gospel, there’s also an evident sense of immediacy to it, which lends itself to an investigation of Jesus’s emotional life.

To better understand context, as I read through Mark, I noted passages that described where Jesus chose to spend his time. He seemed to spend a lot of his days by the water (1:16; 2:13; 3:7; 4:1; 5:1), in the mountains (3:13; 6:46), in Synagogue (1:21; 3:1; 6:2) and, maybe not surprising for someone who didn’t seem to have a home of his own, in other people’s homes (1:29; 2:15; 3:20; 14:3). He seemed to frequently withdraw into nature to get away from the demands of the crowds, and to pray (e.g., 1:35; 6:46). This begins to give an indirect glimpse into Jesus’s emotional life.

In looking for more direct descriptions, what most surprised me in studying the Gospel of Mark was how often Jesus seemed to experience great irritation, sometimes to the point of almost seeming impatient. Jesus was said to speak “sternly” (1:25). On several occasions, he was described as being “indignant” (1:41; 10:14). At one point, Jesus looked at his skeptics “in anger… deeply distressed at their stubborn hearts” (3:5). When he finds people selling in the temple courts, he drives them out, overturning tables in anger (11:15-17).

Why Religious Fundamentalism Can Inspire Hatred (and what to do about it)

Intermixed with much of the worst of human history is a religious motivation. This can be seen in the involvement of a religious motivation in the genocide committed against American Indians and the Holocaust. More recently, this can be seen in the motivation behind tragedies such as the 9/11 terrorist attacks and the January 6 attack on the United States Capital. Other examples include the involvement of religion in motivating prejudice and violence directed toward members of the LGBTQ population and various cases of religious persecution.  

Hooded Members of the Ku Klux Klan Displaying Christian Imagery, 1935.

As Blaise Pascal once reflected: “human beings never do evil so completely and so joyously as when they do it from a religious motivation.”

How can great world religions – which generally teach love, compassion, and justice – become powerful instruments of prejudice and violence?

Although acts of religiously-inspired hatred are complex and caused by many variables, one common factor concerns religious fundamentalism.

Religious fundamentalism involves a rigid kind of certainty in the possession of the “one truth” and the “one way” to live. It typically relies on a literal interpretation of a sacred text and an absolute reliance on that text. Other sources of knowing what’s true or other ways of determining what’s valuable are rejected – such as when science or a different group offers an alternative perspective – in favor of what’s unquestioningly accepted within the group.

With this all comes a strong urge for fundamentalists to form a sense of who are “insiders” and who are “outsiders.” Explicitly or implicitly, it’s easy for all of us to believe members of our groups are superior, while others are inferior. One way for religious fundamentalists to address this is to develop an evangelical zeal to bring outsiders to the inside through attempts to convert them. However, when individuals reject their arguments or invitations, fundamentalists can develop even stronger attitudes against them, to the point where outsiders can become seen as less than their human equals, sometimes even leading to consciously or unconsciously dehumanizing them. At this point, prejudice and violence toward members of the outgroup become more likely.

Because fundamentalist groups also tend to draw like-minded people to their communities, individuals in these groups often decrease or completely lose contact with those different from themselves. As a result, the kinds of reality checks most people tend to naturally have happen to them when they interact with people different from them become less likely, creating the conditions for stronger stereotypes and prejudices to develop.    

What It Means to Have a Relationship with Jesus

One of the most basic – and yet for me, personally, one of the most confounding – aspects of Christian faith involves what it means to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. I’ve always been confused by Christians who talk about their personal relationship with Jesus with total certainty, as if it was as obvious as their personal relationship with their spouse. To me, it hasn’t been obvious what it means to have a relationship with a Being I can’t directly perceive.   

In light of this, I’ve been thinking a lot about a story that appears in the Gospel of Luke (Luke 24:13-35). For context, this occurs after Jesus was said to have been resurrected.

“… two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking with each other about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things with each other, Jesus himself came up and walked along with them, but they were kept from recognizing him.

He asked them, ‘What are you discussing together as you walk along?’

They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, ‘Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do you not know the things that have happened here in these days?’

‘What things?,’ he asked.”

They then proceeded to discuss Jesus, particularly his death and rumors of his resurrection. They talked about the Scriptures.

After this discussion, “as they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus continued on as if he were going farther. But they urged him strongly, ‘Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over.’ So he went in to stay with them.

Later in the story, the two friends walking to Emmaus recognize Jesus (after which Jesus mysteriously disappears, raising other questions). But, at this point, the two friends don’t recognize him.  

So, here’s my question: Even though they didn’t recognize him, were they in relationship with Jesus?

It would seem to me the only fair answer must be “yes.”

Remembering Why We Live in this Place

My wife and I have often told a pretty bleak story about the town in which we live. Common refrains include “there’s nothing to do here,” “it’s too conservative,” and “there’s nowhere good to eat.” Our kids have picked up on this. They share these sentiments with us and their friends as well, and actually have taken it a step further. They have sometimes wondered aloud: “Why do we live somewhere so flat? Why not live where there are mountains, or at least an ocean?”  

Most of our friends live outside our town, and we have been gifted with some great ones. Some of our dear friends live in the city, others live outside the state, and some even live in different countries.

One of the ways we’ve learned to connect with our friends is to share photos of our everyday lives. In particular, after recently spending a week with some dear friends from Scotland, we started trading photos back-and-forth as a quick way of staying in touch. After all, a picture’s worth a thousand words.

We really enjoy these friends from Scotland, so much so that we’ve tried to convince them to visit us in our town. Of course, it’s hard to convince someone from another country to visit you in a town you portray so bleakly. So, as we’ve shared photos, we’ve started to make more of an effort to feature locations and happenings in our town we’re pleased with or even proud about.

As we do this, we’re slowly coming to a realization: being intentional about sharing photos of the lovely and the meaningful in our town is turning our attention from what we don’t have to gratitude for what we do.  

There’s a small body of research exploring the effects of taking photos on personal well-being. Studies find that taking photos of the good increases positive emotions such as gratitude and overall life satisfaction. When these photos are shared with others, it tends to build connection. Other research shows that the task of taking photos increases engagement in the positive aspects of a situation. Furthermore, feeling grateful is tighly linked with overall happiness.

View of the Mississippi River, taken with my IPhone SE

Sharing photos of the lovely and the meaningful from our town has helped us remember why we chose to live in this town in the first place. Very few towns the size of ours have the trails we do, giving us access to three beautiful rivers. There’s a charming vineyard on the outskirts of town that produces the area’s best wine and that features sangria and jazz every Sunday during the summer. We live on a quiet and safe street where we can sit at the end of a long day, kick up our feet, and enjoy each other’s company. In the winter, we have access to some of the region’s best winter activitieis, such as skiing and snowshoeing. The list goes on and on.

But, we couldn’t appreciate these good things until we started being intentional about taking and sharing photos with our friends. We needed an intentional activity to break us out of our pessimism.

So, you might join us in this practice. Think about someone you wish you were closer with, someone with whom you’d like to stay more connected. Start sending them a photo when you become aware of something positive and meaningful in your everyday life, and see if you can get them to reciprocate. You very well might find this creates a new perspective in you as well.