“When the Church is at its best, it can provide a counter-narrative to the empires and false gods of our time,” writes Alisha Fung.
By Alisha Fung
I became a Christian because of a spiritual experience in a Pentecostal church service.
It felt like how Julia Baird describes ‘awe’ in her book ‘Phosphorescence’: an experience that humbles us, makes us aware we are part of something larger, makes us kinder and more selfless.
For me, the ‘awe’ was experiencing God in a way that left me feeling seen, known and loved that, consequently, propelled me to see, know and love others more deeply too.
Even though I was a church-goer up until that point, it was this experience of God’s love not as a concept, but something to be embodied, that solidified my faith.
In my 20s, I left the church.
It wasn’t because I stopped experiencing God’s love – it was because of religious trauma.
This propelled me towards safer places like yoga studios where I could still feel spiritual connection, but without the pain.
As a candidate for ministry in the UCA and a yoga instructor, I find myself continually bridging these two worlds.
My story is far from unique.
Many people are leaving the church. According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, 38.9 per cent of Australians identify as non-religious, revealing Australia is no longer a predominantly Christian country.
This does not, however, mean spirituality is declining.
Rather, it suggests a shift in how people express their spirituality.
Enter the term Spiritual But Not Religious, or SBNR.
As a millennial, I belong to a generation raised in an increasingly secular, media-driven, individualistic society.
Even though only 14 per cent of Australians identify as SBNR, the increasing adoption of spiritual practices suggests a broader trend.
New-Age spirituality growing from the 1970s has contributed, but the booming wellness industry has done the heavy-lifting more recently.
Valued at $8.5 trillion, this industry has commodified religious and spiritually significant cultural practices like meditation, yoga, nature connection and pilgrimage as products to be consumed.
Though the rise of the SBNR movement is new, the yearning for ‘awe’ isn’t, and is part of the Christian tradition.
Rather than standing on opposite ends of the spiritual spectrum, SBNRs and Christians could learn from each other: lessons that could benefit our increasingly disconnected world.
Churches have the opportunity to create authentic communities of connection, says Alisha Fung.
So, what can the UCA learn from the SBNR movement?
While some churches, like Hillsong, have attracted younger people with an atmosphere created to heighten the sense of awe, abuse of power and exclusive beliefs have led to a decline (albeit slight).
On the other hand, the UCA, known for its inclusive beliefs, safe practices, and social justice initiatives, is experiencing an exponential decline with a noticeable absence of young people.
So, what’s the deal?
The UCA isn’t generally known as the Church you go to experience awe.
Not only is there nervousness in creating services that affect feelings, there is also unease in displaying a sense of passion for what the UCA does stand for.
In ‘Beyond Belief’, Australian social researcher Hugh Mackay finds when churches do not incorporate experiences of awe they end up feeling boring, irrelevant and rigid when, in reality, they have a profound opportunity to create spaces that might feel and, thereby, embody the radical story of Christ’s love.
Considering these options, it’s no wonder young people are searching for spiritual experiences outside the church that can offer both spiritual experiences of awe and safe and inclusive spaces.
What can the UCA offer to an increasing SBNR movement?
While consumer-driven spiritual practices offer moments of awe and many studies confirm their health benefits, they don’t have legs to stand on when the going gets tough.
This is not to say all secular groups are driven by consumerism or lack authentic communities with safe and profound experiences of awe.
This is to say the church’s regular gatherings have the opportunity to offer powerful resources such as songs of both joy and lament, stories of both flourishing and suffering, hope in both life and death, and a narrative of God’s presence through it all that can affect awe.
When the Church is at its best, it can provide a counter-narrative to the empires and false gods of our time: capitalism, patriarchy, racism, colonisation, and individualisation, by emphasising how all we are and all of us is wrapped up in God’s unconditional love.
Conversely, consumer-driven spiritual practices let these systems of oppression off the hook and leave it in the hands of the consumer to achieve their own flourishing and experiences of awe.
Churches, however, have the opportunity and resources to create authentic communities of connection and practice with passion and vigour that not too many organisations are motivated or are able to do.
Despite the 2021 Census results, Christianity is not disappearing; it still accounts for 43.9 per cent of the population.
Meanwhile, more people are seeking experiences of awe outside of church.
Perhaps the two largest religious identities in Australia can learn from one another, respond to the growing desire for places and practices of awe, and integrate them appropriately in our increasingly disconnected world.
Alisha Fung is a Ministry of the Word candidate in Victoria
