Finding God Beyond Church
Finding God Beyond Church
What happens when we let go of religious ‘shoulds’ and find spirituality in places other than church?
An Unexpected Meet-up With God
The snow shouldn’t have been falling – not on that warm spring afternoon when daffodils had already pushed through the soil.
Yet there I stood in an open field, arms outstretched, watching giant flakes drift down like feathers from heaven.
Each one melted the moment it touched the ground, a fleeting gift that demanded nothing but presence.
No scripture verses came to mind. No religious obligations tugged at my conscience.
In that moment, I felt closer to God than I had in countless Sunday services in church.
For many of us who grew up in church, such unexpected holiness can feel surprisingly like what we are used to, except where’s the structure? The rituals? The responses?
Yet as we age, these surprising encounters with the sacred often become our most profound connections to something greater than ourselves.
The Weight of Religious Expectations
Many of us can recite the “oughtas” from memory better than the ten commandments :
- attend every service,
- bow your head when you pray and don’t be looking around;
- dress appropriately—no jeans!;
- volunteer for church suppers and fund-raisers, and
- read scripture every day.
These “shoulds” (or others) formed the backbone of a typical religious upbringing, each one a brick in what was offered as a path to righteousness and/or to heaven.
These expectations provided structure for decades, offering comfort through life’s uncertainties.
We taught them to our children, just as our parents taught us.
They became more than habits – they were measuring sticks of our faith and provided a self-image of being a ‘good girl’ or ‘good boy’ —if not saints in the making.
However, beneath the security of these routines, many of us felt an undercurrent of stress.
Did I pray long enough? Were my contributions sufficient? Why do the hymns sound hollow?
Will I go to hell if I quit going to church?
As we age, these “shoulds” grow heavier. Same people. Same church or other religious tradition. Same songs.
But now the “shoulds” have taken up residence in our soul and without wanting to be judgmental, we see our children, grandchildren, neighbors and strangers through an “oughta” lens.
Sometimes carrying these ‘oughtas,’ whether followed or not, feels like carrying a book-filled backpack up a steep hill – a familiar weight that no longer serves its original purpose.
The question isn’t whether these traditions hold value; it’s whether they still nurture our spiritual growth, or have they become barriers to a more authentic connection with God?
Permission to Explore
I discovered something surprising while watching that spring snow: spirituality doesn’t require permission slips. Or going to confession. Or tithing.
Like many of our generation, I spent years believing I was supposed to “make God happy” with my behavior. I seemed to have forgotten the truth that God makes us happy.
But aging brings wisdom and, with it, the courage to explore beyond familiar boundaries.
This isn’t about abandoning our religious roots.
Instead, it’s about allowing our spiritual journey to grow as naturally as we have.
Just as our perspectives on life have deepened with experience, our connection to the Holy can evolve, too.
Sometimes, this means finding God in a grandchild’s laughter instead of a hymn, or feeling peace while gardening rather than kneeling in prayer.
The process might feel unsettling at first, like trying to write with your non-dominant hand.
You might hear echoes of past warnings about “straying from the path.”
But here’s what decades of life have taught me: authentic spiritual growth often happens when I dare to look beyond the familiar.
It’s not about being rebellious – it’s about being real.
Discovering New Sacred Spaces
That unusual spring snowfall taught me something vital: sacred moments often arrive unannounced in places we least expect.
They’re waiting in the steam rising from your morning coffee, in the way sunlight filters through autumn leaves, or in the quiet moments before the house wakes up.
These everyday sanctuaries might look different for each of us. For some, it’s tending a garden where every sprouting seed feels like a small miracle.
For others, it’s in the rhythm of walking, each step a meditation.
Maybe you’ve felt the sacred moment while kneading bread dough, your hands performing the same motions your grandmother’s hands once did.
Or perhaps it’s in those precious moments when a grandchild falls asleep on your shoulder, their complete trust more powerful than any sermon.
What makes these moments holy isn’t their connection to religious tradition but their ability to connect us to something larger than ourselves.
They require no special preparations, no specific words, no designated time or place.
Instead, they ask only for our attention and openness to awe.
Balancing Old and New
Not everything from our religious past needs discarding.
Like a wise gardener selecting which perennials to keep and which new plants to introduce, we can thoughtfully choose which traditions still nourish our spirits.
Perhaps lighting Sabbath candles still brings peace, while rigid prayer times no longer serve us.
Maybe church hymns still stir our souls, but we find equal comfort in quiet meditation.
This isn’t about choosing sides – traditional versus new, structured versus free.
Instead, think of it as creating a spiritual tapestry where both can interweave.
The Lord’s Prayer might share space with contemplative walks.
Sunday services might alternate with solitary moments of wonder.
What matters isn’t the form our spirituality takes but how it helps us connect with something greater than ourselves.
Adding new threads to our spiritual fabric doesn’t weaken it –
it makes it richer, more resilient, and more authentically ours.
Remember that spring snow – unexpected, beautiful, and gone in a moment?
Your next sacred experience might be just as surprising.
Stay open. Stay curious. Your spiritual journey isn’t ending – it’s expanding.
What unexpected holy moment is waiting for you today?
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