| ‘Believing’ and belonging 
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 | By  Lauren Jackson 
 I spent the past year reporting on how we believe now.
 
 
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 Last week, Dwight from “The Office” called me to talk about God.
 
 Almost. It was the actor who played Dwight, Rainn Wilson. He’d read  my essay that launched “Believing,”  a project on how people find meaning in their lives — in religion,  spirituality or anywhere. He’d written a best-selling book on the topic,  one that was  so self-aware and funny I actually laughed out loud. He just wanted to connect.
 
 That seems to be a theme.
 
 Since  I published “Believing,” I’ve heard from thousands of Morning readers.  Everyone has a story to share about belief, no matter how they come at  the topic. My inbox is now a microcosm of the internet: MAGA bros,  professors, wellness influencers, theologians, climate activists, pop  psychologists, grandmothers and a source who sent me  an unpublished letter from Pope Francis.  I heard from people across America and around the world, including  Brazil, New Zealand and Saudi Arabia. In the messages, a clear trend  emerged that unites this very disparate group: People crave meaningful  connection.
 
 In “Believing,” I explained that religion offers people three B’s: beliefs about the world, behaviors to follow and belonging  in a community or culture. Readers seized on the last one. They said  they wanted to belong — in rich, profound and sustained ways.
 
 It makes sense. A  major, global study recently released  by Harvard and Baylor universities affirmed what so much other data has  shown: People flourish — they live happier, healthier and better lives —  if they have strong social connections. It also found that religions,  for all their reputational baggage, can provide people with robust  communities.
 
 The power of belongingIn  “Believing,” I shared that I once belonged to a strong community — that  I was raised Mormon in Arkansas but that I have since left the Church  of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was vulnerable and weird and  hard for me to talk about. Still, it seemed to be a catalyst for  connection.
 
 Soon, my inbox was filled with personal stories.
 
 “She  began with a personal testament of her own loss of faith, so forgive me  if I too bare my soul,” Richard Dawkins, the famous advocate for  atheism, replied in a letter to my article.
 
 I  heard from Orthodox, secular and Messianic Jews; Catholics, lapsed and  practicing; Muslims; Southern Baptists; Unitarian Universalists;  Quakers; and Zen Buddhists. I heard from devotees of Alcoholics  Anonymous and a secular-humanist organization in Houston. “I also grew  up deeply faithful, as the son of a Presbyterian Minister,” the Rev.  Duncan Newcomer wrote. “I had a deep love, like you, of the whole  thing.”
 
 People  said very little about God. The topic was simply a gateway to people’s  most intimate worlds: childhoods, divorces, diagnoses, deathbed diary  entries, unforgetten books and poems and passages. Bill Goodykoontz,  from Maine, encouraged me to research “thin places” — spots in the world  where people say they can feel something beyond themselves.
 
 All the messages point to something bigger.
 
 A structural issuePeople  need to be in strong communities to flourish, defined as being in a  state where all aspects of their lives are good. That’s what the  Global Flourishing Study found last week.  People are more likely to flourish in countries like Indonesia and the  Philippines, where people report finding more meaning or purpose in  their lives, than those in many more-developed nations. “The negative  relationship between meaning and gross domestic product per capita is  particularly striking,” they wrote. “We may need a reconsideration of  spiritual pathways to well-being.”
 
 Kelsey  Osgood, an author who was raised without religion, knows this. She  converted to Orthodox Judaism in adulthood. She said people in her  community offer support to one another reflexively — when someone is  sick, hospitalized, grieving. “Everybody knows exactly what to do.  Everybody knows where to go. You know what to say,” she said. Osgood  said this makes the more taxing elements of religious practice “worth  it” to her.
 
 The  inverse is also true. When people feel exiled from their religious  community — because of their politics, their sexuality or their beliefs —  they often lose entire worlds. The grief that follows can be  comprehensive. Many people stay away from faith communities, often for  good.
 
 Others decide to come back, which seems to be contributing to  the pause of secularization in America.  Robert Stempkowski, a 62-year-old writer in Michigan, sent me a 36-page  document about his journey with belief. He described a time when he was  “shooting himself in the foot” as a “failed husband, absentee father  and a drunken, former restaurant critic,” he said. “I was out of bullets  and bylines.” He ultimately found his way back to church.
 
 I responded to his email and expressed my sincere gratitude that he took the time to write.
 
 He replied: “Thanks for letting me share.”
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