Christianity Isn't the Only Religion: How I Found a Sacred Space That's Aligned

I’ve typed and deleted so many opening lines to this article. For reasons both obvious and personal, this one feels like a doozy. 

It’s both the confronting of the explicit societal norm to avoid casual religious dialogue and also the thought of sharing my soul that’s got me on edge. 

But, it’s important. Or at least it feels important to me! So, here's as few words as I possibly can give on the topic—if you want to talk more, you know where to find me. 

I grew up in a Catholic household and attended Catholic private school for my entire childhood. I’m happy to prove it through the loud singing of some Catholic bangers like Raise You Up and Table of Plenty. IFYKYK. 

I have so many beautiful memories of being truly immersed in that faith—practicing my first Holy Communion with my grade school besties, lighting the Advent wreath, and crowning a statue of Mary with handmade paper flowers every year in celebration of her. 

I can also recall moments that eventually led to me leaving the community. 

Systemic scandal and abuse. A culture that demanded absolute obedience. Punishment for behaviors that were developmentally very normal. 

And, ultimately I just realized I didn’t actually believe some of the teachings. So, I stopped participating and for years wrote off religion altogether as a fruitless exercise. 

Years later, I’ve realized that when I lost my faith it was like this cynicism swept into every corner of my world. 

With the acknowledgment that this leans towards the dramatic, it was like I stopped sniffing flowers, wondering the “why” of it all, and thinking broadly about the life I wanted to live. Because I’d fallen into this trap that it was all or nothing when it came to religion. 

I was either a staunch atheist who used logic as a defense mechanism against feeling uncertain or I was a born again Christian (which I am really, really not). And, to be honest, I’m not really sure why. 

My parents took us kids to different kinds of services as we grew up for cultural exposure and I even took a class in high school deep-diving in theologies around the world. I was no stranger to the hundreds of options for me. 

And still, I was uninterested in exploring that part of myself until two years ago. It was complicated, it was uncool, it was an acceptance of my roots that I wasn’t ready for. 

I thank myself damn near every day that I took the plunge. Because it turns out there’s so many communities available that aren't situated in Christianity if that’s not your thing (it’s okay if it is!). 

I feel brighter, more connected to nature and other humans, and more excited to create a beautiful life than ever before. And, guess what?! I’m still asking questions and figuring it out. 

It’s intimidating and personal and, at times, political, so I get why we all shy away from it and make jokes anytime spiritually is mentioned. But you owe it to yourself to take it seriously. Or, at least, I felt like I owed it to myself. 

If community, connection, questioning, and setting aside time for your spirit every week is your jam, then this article may be for you. 

It’s a few lessons learned, a few options that worked for me, and a complete acknowledgement that I’m an ever-changing human, and that what I write today could change tomorrow. 

A brief moment of gratitude to so many people who’ve dove into this journey with me over the last few years, but especially to Vanessa, Jordan, Dan, Katie, Ryan, and my dad for their endless curiosity and support. 

Christianity isn’t the only thing out there.

When you grow up in a rural community in America, the religious tradition of your neighbors is pretty homogeneous. It’s primarily Christian and the righteousness of that is reinforced through federal holidays and even our Constitution. 

I’m not here to contradict that teaching or argue for something different. It’s not the hill I want to die on. But I do want you to know that there is so much more than Christianity. 

I’d always assumed that in order to have any kind of religious community again I’d have to accept some kinds of unbreakable, unquestionable truths about where we come from, who we are, and where we go from here. Primarily, the teachings of the Bible. 

The first step in my journey was seriously considering what else is readily accessible in my orbit. 

Quakers (roots in Christianity, but not explicitly required for entry), Buddhism, Universalist Unitarianism, and Ethical Societies were things that came to my mind. 

A cursory google search was enough to get my mind working and my soul searching, cheesy as it sounds! 

And, my search led me to the Washington Ethical Society which is a dually affiliated humanist and Unitarian congregation in the nation’s capital. 

Ethically Living & Universalist Unitarianism 

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the feeling I had when I went to my first service of my own choosing as an adult. 

I was fucking nervous. 

Catholics have very strict rules and timelines during mass and I was convinced I’d somehow miss a social cue or expected response and expose myself as a wannabe. Yikes. But that didn’t happen! 

Instead, I entered a diverse, curious, fun group of children and adults creating community through common ideas. 

Let me clear that I’m still learning and not clergy, so in the paragraphs that follow give me some grace if I get some things wrong. 

As pulled directly from the website, the Washington Ethical Society (WES) is “a humanistic congregation that affirms the worth of every person.”

They continue, “We strive through our relationships to elicit the best in the human spirit. With faith in human goodness, we appreciate each person’s unique capacities. We joyfully celebrate together and support each other through life. We nurture a sense of reverence and responsibility for each other and the earth. We warmly invite you to join our community of children and adults as we work for a world where love and justice cross all borders.” 

Dually associated with the American Ethical Union and Unitarian Universalism (read the UU seven principles here), this group is diverse in belief and creed but grounded in a deep history of writing on humanism, ethical culture, a deed before creed mentality, and various other philosophies.

Some people in the group believe in God and others don’t. I’m somewhere in between. I think?! Ask me again tomorrow. 

While the platforms are overseen and typically administered by a clergy person, Rev KC Slack in WES’ case, the values of this community encourage individual participation during service and allow for plenty of soul searching. 

For example, during each platform, members and guests are permitted to reflect either quietly or at the open-mic to share their thoughts and reflections on the week’s sermon. 

So, what’s that actually look like? 

It’s a group of people from all sorts of cultural and religious backgrounds convening weekly to ask the big questions, to address the challenges of the time, and to sing, mourn, and celebrate together. 

Recent platforms include it’s expensive to be poor, the only way to begin is by beginning, what is a community of communities, the cultural production of evil, and anger is information. 

Clearly, we’re covering a lot of ground here. But, each platform includes a grounding meditation, a reading of the statement of purpose, a reading from either a hymnal, poetry book, or philosophical teaching, a lecture for lack of a better word, and an opportunity to share. 

That ritual is soothing and scratches the itch in my brain that begged for structured time to just sit with the big ideas we’re all wrestling with in the community about the universe, human connection, and systemic challenges. 

I could go on and on and on about the things I’ve learned about philosophical and theological teachings, the compassionate interactions I’ve had, and the connection to my spirit I’ve felt while attending services at WES and, when I’m in Pennsylvania, the Unitarian Universalist Church of Meadville. 

Despite being in Wyoming, I still virtually attend as many of these meetings as possible so those learnings, interactions, and feelings continue to grow. 

But, I think the real takeaway here is the transformation in my day-to-day life and why, at the very least, I think it’s worth reconsidering religion (because yes, humanism, ethical cultural, and, obviously Unitarianism, are both legally classified and self-defined as religions) if you’ve lost it or are considering it for the first time altogether. 

How does this show up in my routine? 

It's felt increasingly important over the past few years to define for myself what is sacred space and how I want to show up in those spaces. 

I’d rather be in the mountains thinking about my essence, the human experience, or the existence of a higher power than sitting in an ornate building where I’m supposed to be having those thoughts, but instead wishing I was in the mountains.  

So, I prioritize being in spaces that allow me to be curious and to feel challenged or inspired. Even more critically, I’ve prioritized the people in my life that want to have these conversations too. 

At the risk of exposing my grandma-like behaviors, I saw this post on Facebook recently that I deeply resonated with. In short, it argued for an expansion of the definition of prayer to include positive thinking, wishing well for others, hugging a person in pain, cooking for friends or family, and giving time and energy to someone you love. 

They said “prayer is a vibration, a feeling, a thought, prayer is the voice of love, friendship, genuine relationships, prayer is an expression of your silent being.” 

I had to read that a few times to really get it. So, it’s okay if you do too. 

If this is the definition, then I’m praying all the damn time. I’m handing out as much positive energy as I can and getting rewarded spiritually and interpersonally. 

This embrace of my essence and the essence of those around me, and the collective space we’re sharing, is a direct result of leaning into religious and spiritual spaces rather than running from them because of childhood experiences and perceived ideas of what it means to be in religious spaces. 

And, maybe for some of you, you’ve already had these thoughts and feelings and revelations outside of traditional and untraditional religious spaces. Awesome! But if you haven’t, I deeply encourage you to give it a try.