An op-ed piece in the New York Times today reminds us of the power of the Church to satisfy the longing to be part of a group–the Sacrament of the Group as I call it in my book. Writer Margaret Renkl explains that she has periodically given up on the Catholic Church for various reasons I have mentioned in this space in the past, but she is nevertheless still drawn to it. She misses the congregation, the babies, the prayers for peace, the feeling that you’re on the same track with like-minded people.
“I seem to have been born with a constant ache for the sacred, a deep-rooted need to offer thanks, to ask for help, to sing out in fathomless praise to something. In time I found my way back to God, the most familiar and fundamental something I knew, even if by then my conception of the divine had enlarged beyond any church’s ability to define or contain it.”
The sacred can be found all around us, of course. It doesn’t have to start with the idea of a God, or gods, it’s inevitably part of who we are as human beings. Divinity is simply in us, in our thoughts and actions and connections to the world. For example, Renkl notes that she often feels that God is more present when she’s taking a walk in the woods than when she is in the church building itself (the Sacrament of Nature). She also misses the singing at Sunday mass (the Sacrament of the Arts). Our connections with nature and with the arts are essential parts of our humanity and bring us closer to a sense of the Divine, as do the other sacramental aspects of our human existence.
Renkl’s observations are an echo of the so-called “Clothes Philosophy” of Thomas Carlyle. It goes like this: clothes determine the appearance of men and women, yet underneath those clothes is a body–a body much more real than coats and dresses. In the same way our institutions like the Church are merely “visible emblems” of the spiritual forces they represent. Even in his day (early 1800s) Carlyle found the Church was worn out and almost worthless, but the Spirit beneath the Church’s “clothes” was still there and needed to be kept alive at all costs.
Where can we go with these kinds of sacred longings if we’re not happy with the churches we grew up with? How can we keep the Spirit alive? There are a few alternatives, and they are growing. Places like the Humanist Hub in Boston offer a regular meeting to the non-theists, the “Nones” out there who want to find like-minded people ready to acknowledge the need for the Sacrament of the Group. To the theists I would say, that a humanist’s conception of the Divine is not far removed from yours–it’s two sides of the same coin, or as Carlyle put it: “the name of the Infinite is GOOD, is GOD,” .