Between 1999 and 2021, America went from a nation in which 70 percent of the population identified with a local religious body, to 47 percent, a drop of 23 points in 22 years. This caused the New Atheists to celebrate the death of religion. It turned out to be a short-lived celebration. Since 2021 the number of Americans who identify with a local religious body has remained stable at 47 percent, and now appears to be modestly increasing. What changed?
There has never been a culture in history that did not have robust religious communities. We did not take off as a species until we moved from the level of blood kin to the level of tribe. That is when civilizations developed and our species gained strong momentum.
What brought us together as tribes? As I’ve written before, it was not our need for safety. That was secondary. The primary reason was our search for meaning. Why do you think Stonehenge was built, and why over one million people a year visit the 5,000-year-old historic site? Our left hemisphere dismissively proclaims, “This is just a bunch of rocks in a circle.” The right hemisphere says, “Quiet, there’s something going on here.”
When my daughter Jael and I went to Stonehenge last month, we arrived just as it opened, before the crowds. It was a cold, gray morning, the only cloudy and cold day of our trip, and it felt just right. It somehow enhanced the experience. The last time I was that mesmerized was when I first saw Monet’s The Red Kerchief in the Cleveland Museum of Art. But that’s a different post for a different day.
The modern age was built on the narrow foundation of the left hemisphere and its fixation with categorization and analysis. It only wants data. For the last 500 years we have virtually ignored the right hemisphere, the primary hemisphere, that puts knowledge in context, giving meaning to the bigger picture.
The modern age was also built on the human ego and its tyrannical demand for just two things, power and safety. The right hemisphere is the realm of what Carl Jung called the self, and every major religion calls the soul. The left hemisphere might bring us knowledge, but the right hemisphere is where knowledge grows into wisdom.
Classic liberalism did not kill religion. The two coexisted nicely. Classic liberalism said there is more that unites us than separates us. Religion says the same. Post-liberalism and religious fundamentalism are what brought about the downturn in religious affiliation. The desert religions may have understandably begun as religions of scarcity, but in their mature forms they have become religions of abundance, compatible with classic liberalism. In their fundamentalist forms, however, they remain religions of scarcity, forever fragmenting into ever smaller groups in the fruitless search for power and safety.
Unfortunately, religious fundamentalists of all religions also believe it is all right to force their religious convictions on the rest of us. We used to look at Afghanistan and think, “Well at least we don’t have to worry about that here.” Notice I said “used to.”
And always, there is the other extreme. Post-liberalism also tried to force their worldview on us, becoming ever more extreme until we were left with standpoint theory, strategic essentialism, the rejection of anything approaching objective truth, cultural appropriation, and other teachings that say there is more that divides us than unites us. Only capitulation to the oppressed group, whomever they are, will allow us to move forward, they say. They captured the major universities, but that has now brought about a powerful pushback.
On the conservative side, Christianity gave up Jesus in favor of a Bible they could worship. Not the Bible as it was written, mind you, but the Bible as their religious leaders interpreted it. Instead of Jesus’s preference for metaphor, they reimagined the Bible as a book of literal meaning. Instead of Jesus’s teaching awe of the creation, the Bible became a book of scientific explanation. Instead of Jesus’s embrace of mystery, the Bible became an inerrant book of certainty.
When you abandon Jesus for a simplistic version of the Bible, no wonder you end up leaving a church with a fear-based political perspective that knows nothing of love and forgiveness. There are two kinds of Christianity. There is the kind that focuses on fear, and the kind that focuses on love. They opted for a fear-based faith.
In the midst of all of that madness from the religious right and radical left, where did hope go? I am happy to say while hope may still be elusive, people are at least searching for it again. They are looking for a church that is not going to tell them they are going to hell, but also not going to tell them that because they are white and educated they are the primary cause of someone else’s living hell.
So where are the churches that welcome with open arms, and do not focus their primary attention on telling you that you are the problem? These are churches that boldly preach the good news of loving God, neighbor, and self. They are places in which we can figure out how to be human together, learn to worship that which is beyond our ego, and synergistically serve to lessen suffering.
Do these churches exist? I preach at a number of them regularly. I saw signs of the church moving anew at the Center for Faith and Justice Conference in San Francisco in February. I will see it again next week at the Post-Evangelical Collective Conference in Nashville and this August at the Wild Goose Festival.
If we can focus on love and forgiveness, a movement will flourish that brings hope. I believe it has already begun. In fact, I am getting ready to write a book about it. I will write about what brought us to this point, and how we are digging ourselves out of this current mess. More about that later.
And so it goes.

