Beautifully articulated. I feel that in the effort to put God in a box through cherry picked beliefs and practices, we have actually been the ones put in the box. Grace and love have been pushed out and replaced with dogma and spreadsheets and rules and regulations to form us into robotic Christians worshipping the golden calf. Your voice and your books are a light in the darkness and a slender path to follow back to God.
I wish I could remember where I read this. It was - I think - in a book written by an Episcopal priest. “Whenever I have to choose between Jesus and the Truth, I choose Truth and I find Jesus there.” I am pretty sure it wasn’t Frederick Buechner but I find his take on the Bible inspiring.
There you go again, John, you have an uncanny ability to reach inside so many of our souls, hearts and minds, tapping into the well of sadness, doubt, bewilderment and anger at what we are witnessing on a daily basis. The barrage of cruelty, of disinformation, the bastardization of Christianity, spirituality, religion in general, or whatever you believe in… or don’t. And yes, I am constantly questioning if there IS a God, how can he let this continue? When so many of us, who may or may not have a specific faith, but believe in decency, kindness, empathy, compassion, and equality, are left feeling hopeless and helpless. I think of all the undocumented, people of color and other marginalized groups, who are living in a constant state of fear, they don’t have the luxury of trying to be positive every day,or trying to look for the beauty in the ugliness that seems to be consuming us. Their very existence, their families existence, is on the line as they try to hide in the shadows, attempting to go unnoticed. I know these beautiful people personally and I can feel their terror.. and it’s honestly more than I can take. So yes, I’m struggling to believe that there is some benevolent being out there who is watching this and allowing it to continue. And these monsters, who perpetuate this insidious cruelty seem to get through unscathed, only gaining more power, like vampires, sucking the life force out of every decent, loving human being who only wants for everyone to have the opportunities that they’ve been given, and all the while, getting pleasure from others pain.
I really appreciate your note at the end to those who don't operate from a religious worldview. As someone who's stepped away from religion, I think it's really important not to push back on, or characterize as silly or delusional, those who still operate out of religious faith. I believe that there are countless ways on the road to "the good." If religion is your road to caring and loving and decency and compassion, by all means keep following it. I'm not religious, but if it takes us to the right place, that's good enough for me. I'm fortunate to know religious people who are searching for the same outcomes, pursuing the same values, that I do. And that's what counts to me.
I feel the same way. I live in what most would consider a rural town. It's predominately LDS and evangelical, with a few Catholics and mainstream Protestants in the minority. I have family in all the categories. I try to focus on the shared beliefs and ignore their reaction when they find I'm a nonbeliever. There is SO much good in most of them, so I focus on that...and the flowers in my garden. Embracing the joy Mother Nature provides is the best healer.
Great article. I find myself thinking about this sometimes. Being raised Catholic. Being taught everything you do could help you go to heaven or hell. I no longer go too church of any kind. I feel more spiritual than religious. One big problem is the hypocrisy. Christians that feel they are better than others. Peace
I've known lots of Christians like the ones you describe, who think themselves superior. I also grew up Catholic but eventually left the church for many of the same reasons you mention. But one of the people who most shaped my values about how to behave and how to treat others was a Catholic nun. She had none of that hypocrisy, none of that judgment, none of that looking down on others. I think I was lucky, but she taught me not even all religious people--including Christians--are the same.
Gandhi said, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians; they are nothing like your Christ.” I think that has always been the case. Most days I feel like my faith is slowly trickling down the drain. I still operate within the disciplines that have governed the practice of my faith throughout my life, but something is now missing. Most days I ask God to help my unbelief.
Thank you - I needed this reminder to find the little joys in life and not let my struggle with my faith overshadow that which is still good in a world of ugliness.
Your words moved through me like a tide I’ve known in my own bones.
I come from the other side of the threshold—no longer a believer, no longer part of the tradition I was raised in. The Church and I parted ways long ago, but the questions? The ache? The longing for what once felt simple and safe and sacred? That never left.
What you’ve written here is one of the most generous gifts a person of faith can offer in times like these: not certainty, not dogma, not a rescue rope tied back to a doctrine—but presence. Understanding. Permission to be in the wilderness and still call it sacred ground.
As someone who no longer believes, I found in your reflection the very essence of what I do hold dear: that beauty, gratitude, love, and quiet awe—those things are real. They are not diminished by doubt. They do not disappear when belief fades. They can outlast even our theology.
There’s a tenderness in how you speak to the heartbroken faithful, and I want to say: there are many of us out here who also walked away, or drifted, or woke up one day and found that the words no longer fit. And we carry no glee in that loss. Just a deep, human understanding. And sometimes grief.
But I also believe—and I sense you do too—that faith, if it means anything at all, must have room for the broken, for the quiet, for those standing at the edge of meaning trying to make peace with what remains. Whether they call that God, or love, or simply life itself.
You said it plainly: to simply live and to find appreciation in the living is itself a spiritual pursuit. I’d offer this echo from my campfire—that to show up for others in their sorrow, to honor beauty without needing it to prove anything, and to keep walking when the road vanishes under your feet… these are sacred acts.
Even to a godless man like me.
So thank you for this. Not because I’m looking to believe again—but because it reminded me that people of faith and people like me are not so far apart, when we meet one another honestly. There is room, even now, for a communion of the heart.
Thank you John for your continued thoughtful posts. Though I can tend to be cynical or hardened at times, I want to share a bit about my recent experience of walking the Camino de Santiago with my wife. We took six weeks (late May through early July) away from home and work to do this, which took some planning and was itself a leap of faith, leaving our small business in the hands of some wonderful employees. We took the French Way, about 500 miles total and walked the whole thing. You can imagine that the alone time and walking through some beautiful countryside was wonderful. I pretty much disconnected from social media, news, and only used my phone for navigation when needed (well, and to record mileage). It was a challenge both physically and mentally at times. But it was largely the encounters that we had with people from all over the world that gave me hope. Though the opinions of almost every single person we met were in line with regard to the current US administration, we made wonderful connections with so many. We would often cross paths several times with other pilgrims (that's what they call all those on the Camino), and we discovered that after about three encounters we were on a hugging basis. I was reminded that hugging is a universal language. It's an acknowledgement of our shared humanity and common pilgrimage, and a celebration of that reality. We often felt the need to apologize for what was happening as we encountered both disappointment and fear of what the future could hold. But we assured everyone that the actions and positions taken by the current leadership were not representative of a significant number, if not most Americans - and almost none of the Americans on the Camino.
I want to share one experience that was particularly moving for me. We were in Santiago de Compostela, the destination of most pilgrims, sitting outside a cafe with some other Americans. A group of folks at a table near us broke out in a song in French, and they all new the words which made me curious. After a bit I went over to the table and asked about the song. They said it was just a popular song by a well know French artist. Then they asked where I was from and I told them and went into my usual explanation that I was against what was happening in the US and what the US was doing, and how powerless so many of us feel right now. I mentioned how I had heard the irony that people in countries like Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and oppressive regimes with whom the US has allied itself with often have great disdain for Americans, while people in those countries that the US is at enmity with are often much more curious and welcoming of Americans. Then one of the women shared something that brought me to tears. She said that she was from Iran, and that she had family living there. This was barely a week after the US had bombed her country. She said that on her first day of the Camino she met a woman with whom she connected with and of course the conversation let to where each was from. She said that she was from Iran, and the other woman said that she was from Israel. There was a pause. And the woman from Israel said that she wanted this Iranian woman to know that neither she nor most Israelis support the actions that their government were taking. There was an embrace that I can only imagine was one of deep human connection, frustration, and solidarity. Everyone at the table was amazed that such an encounter happened, and this on the first day of this woman's Camino. But this is some of the beauty of the Camino. And now, I must remind myself that I'm still on the Camino - we all are. I want to be intentional about making these type of connections with all who cross my path. And maybe I won't wait until the third encounter to give a hug. Buen Camino!
OK, I’m in tears reading this. What a beautiful beautiful story and thank you for sharing. I will definitely be giving many people hugs today as a reminder of our human connections and how important they are to center us. A hug is like the exchange of energy and hopefulness.
It's not loss, it's evolution. It's opening our eyes to that which we may have kept hidden. It's looking within and deepening a more personal relationship with the intelligence that created us. It's finding the love that includes everything, even the rage at the cruelty one sees unfolding every day. I am not there, that's for sure, but I sense it as a possibility.
It can be disorienting to have your anchor of faith shaken. When old beliefs no longer hold, we don’t have to sit in emptiness (although that may feel and be good for some, at least for a while). We can find new understandings -- whether in nature, in rituals not tied to doctrine, new belief systems, or leaning into love. This may lead to an opportunity to drop anchor again, while knowing that our faith anchors, like physical anchors, are designed to be lifted and moved when we determine we change our perspective again. Please remember that which is beyond our earthly understanding is Infinite and there are infinite ways of interacting with and understanding this divine mystery of Love. Sending peace and love to those who are in this place of uncertainty.
Some faith traditions suggest God, whatever or whoever that is, had some kind of mortal existence too. God can handle your anger and disbelief because of hard experience. Don't beat yourself up about where you are spiritually, just be there, learn from it. Whatever path it takes will actually deepen your faith if you do it at peace and with patience. Grieving the loss of my religious traditions and faith practices lead me to deeper comprehension because of experiences I would not otherwise have had.
I thank you for this beautiful and timely posting about faith. I am a practicing Roman Catholic as I have shared many times. I still love my faith but at times I find it hard to “love” my fellow Catholics. For me it all is based on trust that the God I believe in is there through it all. The good the bad and the really ugly. Our country and even our families are very divided right now however I must keep my heart open to things getting better. So I am encouraging my fellow doubters to know that God is good and we will be ok. 🙏🏻👍🏼🙏🏻
Beautifully articulated. I feel that in the effort to put God in a box through cherry picked beliefs and practices, we have actually been the ones put in the box. Grace and love have been pushed out and replaced with dogma and spreadsheets and rules and regulations to form us into robotic Christians worshipping the golden calf. Your voice and your books are a light in the darkness and a slender path to follow back to God.
I wish I could remember where I read this. It was - I think - in a book written by an Episcopal priest. “Whenever I have to choose between Jesus and the Truth, I choose Truth and I find Jesus there.” I am pretty sure it wasn’t Frederick Buechner but I find his take on the Bible inspiring.
That is the essence of faith in many ways. Thank you
There you go again, John, you have an uncanny ability to reach inside so many of our souls, hearts and minds, tapping into the well of sadness, doubt, bewilderment and anger at what we are witnessing on a daily basis. The barrage of cruelty, of disinformation, the bastardization of Christianity, spirituality, religion in general, or whatever you believe in… or don’t. And yes, I am constantly questioning if there IS a God, how can he let this continue? When so many of us, who may or may not have a specific faith, but believe in decency, kindness, empathy, compassion, and equality, are left feeling hopeless and helpless. I think of all the undocumented, people of color and other marginalized groups, who are living in a constant state of fear, they don’t have the luxury of trying to be positive every day,or trying to look for the beauty in the ugliness that seems to be consuming us. Their very existence, their families existence, is on the line as they try to hide in the shadows, attempting to go unnoticed. I know these beautiful people personally and I can feel their terror.. and it’s honestly more than I can take. So yes, I’m struggling to believe that there is some benevolent being out there who is watching this and allowing it to continue. And these monsters, who perpetuate this insidious cruelty seem to get through unscathed, only gaining more power, like vampires, sucking the life force out of every decent, loving human being who only wants for everyone to have the opportunities that they’ve been given, and all the while, getting pleasure from others pain.
I really appreciate your note at the end to those who don't operate from a religious worldview. As someone who's stepped away from religion, I think it's really important not to push back on, or characterize as silly or delusional, those who still operate out of religious faith. I believe that there are countless ways on the road to "the good." If religion is your road to caring and loving and decency and compassion, by all means keep following it. I'm not religious, but if it takes us to the right place, that's good enough for me. I'm fortunate to know religious people who are searching for the same outcomes, pursuing the same values, that I do. And that's what counts to me.
I feel the same way. I live in what most would consider a rural town. It's predominately LDS and evangelical, with a few Catholics and mainstream Protestants in the minority. I have family in all the categories. I try to focus on the shared beliefs and ignore their reaction when they find I'm a nonbeliever. There is SO much good in most of them, so I focus on that...and the flowers in my garden. Embracing the joy Mother Nature provides is the best healer.
Beautifully stated, Miguel.
Great article. I find myself thinking about this sometimes. Being raised Catholic. Being taught everything you do could help you go to heaven or hell. I no longer go too church of any kind. I feel more spiritual than religious. One big problem is the hypocrisy. Christians that feel they are better than others. Peace
I've known lots of Christians like the ones you describe, who think themselves superior. I also grew up Catholic but eventually left the church for many of the same reasons you mention. But one of the people who most shaped my values about how to behave and how to treat others was a Catholic nun. She had none of that hypocrisy, none of that judgment, none of that looking down on others. I think I was lucky, but she taught me not even all religious people--including Christians--are the same.
Gandhi said, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians; they are nothing like your Christ.” I think that has always been the case. Most days I feel like my faith is slowly trickling down the drain. I still operate within the disciplines that have governed the practice of my faith throughout my life, but something is now missing. Most days I ask God to help my unbelief.
thanks I needed to read this!
Thanks. It helps to know you are not alone in your doubts and struggle to get back to faith.
Thank you - I needed this reminder to find the little joys in life and not let my struggle with my faith overshadow that which is still good in a world of ugliness.
This is exactly how I feel! Exactly!
Your words moved through me like a tide I’ve known in my own bones.
I come from the other side of the threshold—no longer a believer, no longer part of the tradition I was raised in. The Church and I parted ways long ago, but the questions? The ache? The longing for what once felt simple and safe and sacred? That never left.
What you’ve written here is one of the most generous gifts a person of faith can offer in times like these: not certainty, not dogma, not a rescue rope tied back to a doctrine—but presence. Understanding. Permission to be in the wilderness and still call it sacred ground.
As someone who no longer believes, I found in your reflection the very essence of what I do hold dear: that beauty, gratitude, love, and quiet awe—those things are real. They are not diminished by doubt. They do not disappear when belief fades. They can outlast even our theology.
There’s a tenderness in how you speak to the heartbroken faithful, and I want to say: there are many of us out here who also walked away, or drifted, or woke up one day and found that the words no longer fit. And we carry no glee in that loss. Just a deep, human understanding. And sometimes grief.
But I also believe—and I sense you do too—that faith, if it means anything at all, must have room for the broken, for the quiet, for those standing at the edge of meaning trying to make peace with what remains. Whether they call that God, or love, or simply life itself.
You said it plainly: to simply live and to find appreciation in the living is itself a spiritual pursuit. I’d offer this echo from my campfire—that to show up for others in their sorrow, to honor beauty without needing it to prove anything, and to keep walking when the road vanishes under your feet… these are sacred acts.
Even to a godless man like me.
So thank you for this. Not because I’m looking to believe again—but because it reminded me that people of faith and people like me are not so far apart, when we meet one another honestly. There is room, even now, for a communion of the heart.
Let’s strive always for that.
Thank you John for your continued thoughtful posts. Though I can tend to be cynical or hardened at times, I want to share a bit about my recent experience of walking the Camino de Santiago with my wife. We took six weeks (late May through early July) away from home and work to do this, which took some planning and was itself a leap of faith, leaving our small business in the hands of some wonderful employees. We took the French Way, about 500 miles total and walked the whole thing. You can imagine that the alone time and walking through some beautiful countryside was wonderful. I pretty much disconnected from social media, news, and only used my phone for navigation when needed (well, and to record mileage). It was a challenge both physically and mentally at times. But it was largely the encounters that we had with people from all over the world that gave me hope. Though the opinions of almost every single person we met were in line with regard to the current US administration, we made wonderful connections with so many. We would often cross paths several times with other pilgrims (that's what they call all those on the Camino), and we discovered that after about three encounters we were on a hugging basis. I was reminded that hugging is a universal language. It's an acknowledgement of our shared humanity and common pilgrimage, and a celebration of that reality. We often felt the need to apologize for what was happening as we encountered both disappointment and fear of what the future could hold. But we assured everyone that the actions and positions taken by the current leadership were not representative of a significant number, if not most Americans - and almost none of the Americans on the Camino.
I want to share one experience that was particularly moving for me. We were in Santiago de Compostela, the destination of most pilgrims, sitting outside a cafe with some other Americans. A group of folks at a table near us broke out in a song in French, and they all new the words which made me curious. After a bit I went over to the table and asked about the song. They said it was just a popular song by a well know French artist. Then they asked where I was from and I told them and went into my usual explanation that I was against what was happening in the US and what the US was doing, and how powerless so many of us feel right now. I mentioned how I had heard the irony that people in countries like Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and oppressive regimes with whom the US has allied itself with often have great disdain for Americans, while people in those countries that the US is at enmity with are often much more curious and welcoming of Americans. Then one of the women shared something that brought me to tears. She said that she was from Iran, and that she had family living there. This was barely a week after the US had bombed her country. She said that on her first day of the Camino she met a woman with whom she connected with and of course the conversation let to where each was from. She said that she was from Iran, and the other woman said that she was from Israel. There was a pause. And the woman from Israel said that she wanted this Iranian woman to know that neither she nor most Israelis support the actions that their government were taking. There was an embrace that I can only imagine was one of deep human connection, frustration, and solidarity. Everyone at the table was amazed that such an encounter happened, and this on the first day of this woman's Camino. But this is some of the beauty of the Camino. And now, I must remind myself that I'm still on the Camino - we all are. I want to be intentional about making these type of connections with all who cross my path. And maybe I won't wait until the third encounter to give a hug. Buen Camino!
OK, I’m in tears reading this. What a beautiful beautiful story and thank you for sharing. I will definitely be giving many people hugs today as a reminder of our human connections and how important they are to center us. A hug is like the exchange of energy and hopefulness.
Thank you John for your kindness and thoughtfulness. I appreciate your messages so much.
It's not loss, it's evolution. It's opening our eyes to that which we may have kept hidden. It's looking within and deepening a more personal relationship with the intelligence that created us. It's finding the love that includes everything, even the rage at the cruelty one sees unfolding every day. I am not there, that's for sure, but I sense it as a possibility.
It can be disorienting to have your anchor of faith shaken. When old beliefs no longer hold, we don’t have to sit in emptiness (although that may feel and be good for some, at least for a while). We can find new understandings -- whether in nature, in rituals not tied to doctrine, new belief systems, or leaning into love. This may lead to an opportunity to drop anchor again, while knowing that our faith anchors, like physical anchors, are designed to be lifted and moved when we determine we change our perspective again. Please remember that which is beyond our earthly understanding is Infinite and there are infinite ways of interacting with and understanding this divine mystery of Love. Sending peace and love to those who are in this place of uncertainty.
Some faith traditions suggest God, whatever or whoever that is, had some kind of mortal existence too. God can handle your anger and disbelief because of hard experience. Don't beat yourself up about where you are spiritually, just be there, learn from it. Whatever path it takes will actually deepen your faith if you do it at peace and with patience. Grieving the loss of my religious traditions and faith practices lead me to deeper comprehension because of experiences I would not otherwise have had.
I thank you for this beautiful and timely posting about faith. I am a practicing Roman Catholic as I have shared many times. I still love my faith but at times I find it hard to “love” my fellow Catholics. For me it all is based on trust that the God I believe in is there through it all. The good the bad and the really ugly. Our country and even our families are very divided right now however I must keep my heart open to things getting better. So I am encouraging my fellow doubters to know that God is good and we will be ok. 🙏🏻👍🏼🙏🏻