By Daniel Rigney
I have a confession to
make. At a time when more and more Americans, and especially younger
folk, are describing themselves as “spiritual but not religious,” or
SBNR, I find myself swimming against the cultural current.
This is not easy for me to say, but I suspect I may be religious but not spiritual.
It’s not that I have doubts about my religiosity. I attend a congregation regularly and participate actively in its communal life. In that sense I’m institutionally religious, and my ecclesial identity is as secure as it’s ever likely to be.
My self-doubts stem rather from uncertainty about the word “spiritual.” I’ve been trying to figure out what this word means for several decades now, and I’m no closer to understanding it than when I first began my s-word journey years ago.
Tonight, in desperation, I turn for guidance to the bible of the English language. I refer, of course, to the Oxford English Dictionary.
OED has always been an important source of meaning for me. Here I hope to learn once and for all what I must do to be saved from semantic confusion.
I turn to the entry for “spiritual.” According to OED, the word has no fewer than 36 distinct meanings and submeanings, some of which are now rare or obsolete, as so many meanings are these days.
It’s not helpful to learn that the s-word’s first meaning is “of or relating to the spirit, or higher moral qualities.” I figured as much.
As I delve deeper, I learn that the s-word may also mean “devout, holy pious,” or “of transcendent beauty or charm,” or “clever, smart, witty,” or “exhibiting a high degree of refinement of thought or feeling,” or (its root meaning in Latin) “of or relating to breathing; respiratory.”
Okay, I ask myself. Am I devout, holy, pious, transcendently beautiful or charming, clever, smart, witty, refined in thought or feeling, or breathing? I grade myself and get an honest score of 2½ out of 10. Breathing, half-witty, and one other. I won’t say which.
Scoring a 2½ out of 10 on the Spirituality Scale hardly qualifies a soul for membership in the SBNR club, now does it? It’s beginning to look as though I’m not very spiritual.
But wait. There’s hope. If spiritual means “of or relating to spirit,” maybe I can find something in the OED’s root definition of “spirit” to qualify me as spiritual.
My s____ sinks when I find that OED offers no fewer than 60 entries for “spirit,” and more than 100 compounds, including “distilled spirit,” “spirit-bride,” “spirit of urine,” and “spirit-monad” (“the monad that has consciousness of itself”).
I’ve been intensely self-conscious before, but I’m not sure that qualifies me as spiritual.
So it seems my journey for spiritual’s meaning is at a crossroad. I stand before a signpost with arrows pointing me in more than a hundred different directions.
This crossroad is starting to look like a dead end to me. "Spiritual" is a complex word, and it means so many different things to so many different people that I hesitate to use the word at all, at least in public.
Be spiritual but not religious (SBNR) if you feel the call. Find God in sunsets during long walks on the beach if you can. You go on ahead, and godspeed. I’ll hang back.
I’m settling for being religious but not spiritual (RBNS) until I can figure out what in hell “spiritual” means.
P.S.: Now that I’ve suspended my search for spirituality, I already feel lighter. It’s as though a great burden is lifting and I’m ascending into a kind of wordless bliss. What’s this? My arms are turning into wings? I’m flying. I’m flying!
Danagram
“I’m not a member of any organized religion. I’m a Unitarian."*
*with apologies to Will Rogers: "I'm not a member of any organized political party. I'm a Democrat."
Readers who found this post annoying may also be annoyed by “Clichés at the Crossroad” and “Fixing Our Broken Cliché System.”
This is not easy for me to say, but I suspect I may be religious but not spiritual.
It’s not that I have doubts about my religiosity. I attend a congregation regularly and participate actively in its communal life. In that sense I’m institutionally religious, and my ecclesial identity is as secure as it’s ever likely to be.
My self-doubts stem rather from uncertainty about the word “spiritual.” I’ve been trying to figure out what this word means for several decades now, and I’m no closer to understanding it than when I first began my s-word journey years ago.
Tonight, in desperation, I turn for guidance to the bible of the English language. I refer, of course, to the Oxford English Dictionary.
OED has always been an important source of meaning for me. Here I hope to learn once and for all what I must do to be saved from semantic confusion.
I turn to the entry for “spiritual.” According to OED, the word has no fewer than 36 distinct meanings and submeanings, some of which are now rare or obsolete, as so many meanings are these days.
It’s not helpful to learn that the s-word’s first meaning is “of or relating to the spirit, or higher moral qualities.” I figured as much.
As I delve deeper, I learn that the s-word may also mean “devout, holy pious,” or “of transcendent beauty or charm,” or “clever, smart, witty,” or “exhibiting a high degree of refinement of thought or feeling,” or (its root meaning in Latin) “of or relating to breathing; respiratory.”
Okay, I ask myself. Am I devout, holy, pious, transcendently beautiful or charming, clever, smart, witty, refined in thought or feeling, or breathing? I grade myself and get an honest score of 2½ out of 10. Breathing, half-witty, and one other. I won’t say which.
Scoring a 2½ out of 10 on the Spirituality Scale hardly qualifies a soul for membership in the SBNR club, now does it? It’s beginning to look as though I’m not very spiritual.
But wait. There’s hope. If spiritual means “of or relating to spirit,” maybe I can find something in the OED’s root definition of “spirit” to qualify me as spiritual.
My s____ sinks when I find that OED offers no fewer than 60 entries for “spirit,” and more than 100 compounds, including “distilled spirit,” “spirit-bride,” “spirit of urine,” and “spirit-monad” (“the monad that has consciousness of itself”).
I’ve been intensely self-conscious before, but I’m not sure that qualifies me as spiritual.
So it seems my journey for spiritual’s meaning is at a crossroad. I stand before a signpost with arrows pointing me in more than a hundred different directions.
This crossroad is starting to look like a dead end to me. "Spiritual" is a complex word, and it means so many different things to so many different people that I hesitate to use the word at all, at least in public.
Be spiritual but not religious (SBNR) if you feel the call. Find God in sunsets during long walks on the beach if you can. You go on ahead, and godspeed. I’ll hang back.
I’m settling for being religious but not spiritual (RBNS) until I can figure out what in hell “spiritual” means.
P.S.: Now that I’ve suspended my search for spirituality, I already feel lighter. It’s as though a great burden is lifting and I’m ascending into a kind of wordless bliss. What’s this? My arms are turning into wings? I’m flying. I’m flying!
Danagram
“I’m not a member of any organized religion. I’m a Unitarian."*
*with apologies to Will Rogers: "I'm not a member of any organized political party. I'm a Democrat."
Readers who found this post annoying may also be annoyed by “Clichés at the Crossroad” and “Fixing Our Broken Cliché System.”
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