Lonely Americans

Each of us has times in our lives when we need to confide in someone. Maybe it is a health crisis. Perhaps it is a relationship issue. Or perhaps we have an important decision to make that will shape the future course of our lives. We need to talk with someone we trust completely, someone in whom we can confide with complete confidence, someone whose counsel we value.

Do you have someone to turn to in such times? Do you have more than one person you can call on? I am not talking about casual friends. I am talking about someone you feel you can be completely honest with, someone with whom you can bare your soul. I am speaking about our most intimate circle of family or friends.

If you and I are like most Americans, that intimate circle has been shrinking dramatically. The effects of these shrinking circles of intimate relationship are frightening. There is staggering irony here. Never have Americans been lonelier. At the same time, it has never been easier to communicate with other people. (Public events routinely begin with a request that people turn off their cell phones.) We are connected as never before; we are disconnected as ever before. The consequences of our isolation are devastating. The trend of increasing isolation, a trend that is rigorously documented by recent research, has frightening implications for our future.

I am convinced that this is a religious and spiritual issue — perhaps it is the religious and spiritual issue of our time. We live in a time of unprecedented human isolation. As a religious community, we must address this pervasive spiritual need of our time.

Our lives are different today, and our needs are different.

Five hundred or a thousand years ago religion had a different task. Many of us have traveled to or lived in a third world country. We have seen people struggle just to survive. We have seen places where life is hard and often short, places where children often die in infancy. In such places, people need comfort and hope. Religion in the third world consoles the dying and their families. Religion offers hope for a new future, typically a future on the other side of death. Five hundred years ago the whole world was the third world.

Today the needs of our souls are dramatically different. We live longer. In the middle ages most of us in this sanctuary would have died by now. Those of us who are parents probably would have lost a child or several children to disease. At the level of physical comfort, we live better than royalty once did.
And yet something was lost in our headlong economic advance. By any reasonable or historical standard, we live the good life. Yet we have paid a price for the good life. The ties that bind us to each other are being broken.

A recently published sociological study shows a decline in close relationships so large and so rapid that the data shocked sociologists. The results were first published in the American Sociological Review in June. Now, I suspect that not many in here subscribe to this academic journal. (Social science academic journals have a well deserved reputation for having the same effect as an overdose of sedatives.) The findings were so shocking, though, that they were picked up by publications like the New York Times.

The study was in large part a repetition of a study done in 1985. Both studies essentially interviewed people about the number of persons with whom they confide personal information. The studies went on to ask people a number of questions about who these people are in which the subjects confide. The data for the new study were gathered in 2004 and published this year. By asking the same questions that were asked in 1985, we can see what has changed.

Here are some of the highlights of the results that shocked the sociologists so much that they had difficulty believing the data:

• In 1985, the modal response (the response given most often) was having three people in whom one could confide. In 2004, the modal response was zero.
• The percentage of people who said they had no one with whom they could confide jumped from 10 percent in 1985 to 24.6 percent in 2004. That means that in just 20 years the percent of people who said they have no one to talk to went from one person in ten to one out of every four. This is simply shocking.
• Almost half of all Americans now either have no one or only one person with whom they can discuss important matters. The percent of people who either have no one or only one person has almost doubled in 20 years.
• If a person has only one confidant, chances are that the one confidant is his or her spouse. What this means is that the ties beyond the nuclear family are being cut.

Other studies have shown that people who have either no confidant or one confidant have inadequate support. What this all means is that in one generation the percentage of people with inadequate social support has gone from a quarter of the population (that was bad enough!) to almost half the population. And the biggest decline has been in the relationships that link us to our neighbors and our community.

I could go on, but I realize that I am more fond of sociological statistics than most people. However, these are not dull numbers. These numbers scream out a cry of isolation, of pain, of loneliness. Most Americans are lonelier than they were a generation ago. Many of us are lonely. All of us are surrounded by lonely people. Loneliness is among us like an invisible epidemic. 

We need one another. You and I are relational creatures. We are hard wired that way. It is in relationship that we become fully human. It is in relationship that we find fulfillment. 

We have all seen horrible pictures of starving people in third world countries. These pictures touch our hearts; our sympathy is instantaneous. If we could take pictures of the souls of Americans, we would see pictures of souls that are starved for deep, honest, authentic, intimate human contact. The statistics I have cited are statistics of human spiritual and emotional starvation. And the level of spiritual and emotional starvation is growing at an alarming rate.

How did we get into this mess?

I think all of this snuck up on us. Lots of things contribute to our level of isolation.

Part of the problem is that we feed our souls the equivalent of junk food. The kind of isolation we see is not the result of no social interaction. The problem is that most interaction we have is superficial. All the technology that is supposed to keep us in touch is often part of the problem. I have seen it in my own home. Once when we had a family gathering I noticed that all five of us, myself, my wife, my two children and my daughter-in-law, were sitting quietly with our laptop computers wirelessly in touch with the outside world. Happily, we had many wonderful hours of quality face to face time, too. Yet how often do we ignore a real flesh and blood person in the same room with us while we talk on the phone or check our e-mail?

Suburbia is part of the problem. Our houses isolate us. Our cars isolate us. Other people become little more than obstacles as we fight traffic. We shop anonymously among strangers at big stores — stores where the employees are all trained to be friendly and greet all the customers. Superficial human contact is everywhere, but depth is gone. The people we meet greet us with a smile and ask how we are, but they don’t really care. They don’t really know us. We have friendliness, but no friends. This superficial interaction is junk food for the soul.

Part of the problem is our culture. Many of us long for intimacy and yet are frightened by it. Intimacy, close friendship, makes us vulnerable. I am reminded of a New Yorker cartoon that shows two urban middle aged men walking down the street. One says to the other, “I want more than anonymous sex. I want anonymous intimacy.” Anonymous intimacy. It is what so many people seek on the internet as they sit at a keyboard pouring out their hearts to strangers. This is more junk food for the soul. Deep down we know anonymous intimacy is an oxymoron. There can be no such thing as anonymous intimacy or virtual intimacy.

We are also witnessing the dark side of the American ideology of rugged individualism. We Americans have been taught to think of ourselves as individuals, to look out for number one, to compete, to follow opportunities wherever they lead us. We sacrifice relationships on the altar of success. Such a culture of striving helps us create wealth. We now see that it comes at a high price.

It doesn’t have to be this way. You and I can change this.

No, you and I cannot change American culture and American housing patterns overnight. However, you and I can create true community and deep, enduring human connections, right here. We can create a religious community where human relationships can begin, grow and flower. We already have created such a place. Together we have created an island of authenticity, understanding, acceptance, spiritual depth, and healing action.

The creation of true community has to be the core of who we are and what we do. This is a religious endeavor and a spiritual practice. Creating connection truly is our way of saving souls — saving souls from the spiritual starvation of isolation.

There are dozens of ways we can build community that counteracts the frightening trend toward loneliness and isolation. The conviction that we need one another should inform everything we do together.

We need one another when we mourn and would be comforted. That is why when a member of our community dies we gather to celebrate that life and to comfort friends and family. This is why our ministers and our pastoral care team reach out to help those who face illness or a life crisis. Please know this, and know it in the depth of your being: You are not alone here. When life’s difficult times come, help is here. You have someone to talk to in absolute confidence—one of our ministers, one of our compassionate lay volunteers, a good friend.

We need each other all the time, not just during crises. That is why our rooms are so often filled with people. We gather for fellowship dinners for the simple joy of being together and meeting new friends. We gather in worship to rededicate ourselves to our highest aspirations, to join in song, to hold each other in compassion. We gather to meditate with others in one of our meditation groups. We gather to learn and engage one another in our religious education classes. We come together to raise our voices in song in the choir. We gather in small groups like chalice circles so that we can get to know one another deeply. There are so very many ways to build real human connection here.

We need one another when we would accomplish some great purpose. A couple of weeks ago I attended the Social Responsibility Council retreat. One of the things we did was to list accomplishments of the last year. The list was an inspiration. I don’t have time to recite it. It included such things as housing homeless families for four weeks, helping build a seventh Habitat for Humanity house, sending a human rights delegation to Guatemala, being awarded designation as a Green Sanctuary, hosting a Front Range social justice retreat, and raising nearly $60,000 in special fund raisers to help victims of disasters. The list goes on and on. Together we can do so much. Working together we not only help heal our world, we also build strong relationships with each other. I see people forming strong bonds of friendships as they work side by side in our social responsibility programs.

We need one another. This is why reaching out to guests and newcomers on Sunday morning is a vital religious practice. Every week people come to us looking for a spiritual home, looking for depth and meaning, looking for true community, looking to connect with ideals and purposes that transcend their individual concerns and that can transform their lives. People come here seeking to escape the prison of isolation closing in all around them. When we extend a true, heartfelt welcome, we say to people “You are not alone. Here we accept you for who you are. We would love to have you be part of our community. You need us; we need you. We need one another.”

You and I live in a world where the bonds that hold people together are being cut one by one. The isolation of Americans is growing at a frightening rate.

But not here, not here.

People are starving all around us. Our beloved community must be a place where the soul finds sustenance. Our community must be a place where you and I come to know and to trust one another. We must nurture relationships because relationships are sacred. Without human connections we die.
Are you one of the millions of lonely Americans? You don’t have to be. Come, here are good and gentle people. We need one another. This is a matter of life and death.

Reach out. Each of us needs to reach out. Love and friendship are here for the taking.

Together we can create lives of meaning, of compassion, of joy, of purpose. We cannot do it alone. Alone we wither. Together we thrive.

When you and I connect in love and understanding, we touch the holy. When we connect, we create something holy. Let us give each other the gift of life and love. Together, let us share love and life with the thousands of lonely people in our community.

Amen.