Last year, a quarter of the British population declared they had no religion. Stylist looks into the emerging paths filling our spiritual void

Words: Helen Foster

Artwork: Richard Paton

It’s a crisp Sunday morning in a large hall in London and a man with a considerably bushy beard and toothy grin is making around 300 people in their 20s and 30s giggle infectiously. It’s impossible to tell what any members of the audience do – there are no suits, no name badges, no signifiers of wealth and status, just a lot of laughing. As well as being cajoled into a good humour, these 300 strangers are here to listen to sermons, contemplate in silence and sing – loudly and in unison – upbeat songs with life-affirming messages.

In one of the back rooms, tea and cake is being prepared so no-one steps back onto the cold London streets without some fortifying refreshment. But these people are not in church. They’re at Sunday Assembly, a twice-monthly gathering which takes place in cities around the world (it’s constantly growing) which, according to co-founder and comedian Sanderson Jones (aforementioned man-withbeard), aims to provide “the best bits of church but without the God bit”. As such, sermons are on subjects like mindfulness (the art of living in the now), the congregation comes from all faiths, and the songs are more likely to include Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now than a hymn.

Growing Trend

While it might be one of the first gatherings of its kind, Sunday Assembly is not alone in its embracing of togetherness but relinquishment of religion. It’s a societal movement. The last census found that the number of people in Britain who say they have no religion has almost doubled in the last 10 years (from 14.3% to 25.1%).

Since then a YouGov survey has found that of the non-believers 36% are women compared to 43% of men. And within Christianity itself, the UK’s largest religion, women were found to be more religious than men – 59% of women compared to 51% of men. Yet the abandonment of organised religion is a growing trend – just over half of 18-34 year olds considered themselves to be non-religious, compared to 41% in the 35-54 bracket.

Yet despite such damning figures for organised religion, the census also found that well over half of us still believe there’s some greater universal power governing us all. Whether that’s driven by hope, fear or simply the fact that it’s nice to feel that it doesn’t all end when we die can be debated, but the result is a society searching for spirituality, though not necessarily traditional faiths. It’s something theologians are calling ‘post-religious Britain’ – the need to have a spiritual life without a god figure.

“It takes a lot of hubris to think that you are the highest authority governing your own life. Most of us need some form of connection to a higher power so we don’t feel like we’re the sole authority for our own situation,” says Elizabeth Oldfield, director of religion and society think tank Theos.

But we’re not just thinking of ourselves as we reject the old and embrace the new – a 2013 YouGov poll found that 41% of Generation Y-ers (those born between 1980 and 2000) now feel that organised religion is responsible for more harm than good. While that poll didn’t discuss why, past ones have felt religion is now more likely to divide communities than bring them together.

“Younger people also feel the church discriminates against women and gay people,” says Professor Linda Woodhead from Lancaster University.

“Spirituality seems more inclusive – it’s also an area where women have led things. In a study we carried out, of those involved with offering or using spiritual services like meditation groups, 80% were women and that’s very appealing.”

But while we’re rejecting the faces and attitudes behind traditional, established religion, the fundamental beliefs we’re searching for haven’t actually changed. According to Elizabeth Oldfield, when you study religion and spirituality, three uniting characteristics emerge:

1. A feeling of being part of ‘a bigger whole’.

2. Ethics and a sense of what’s right and wrong.

3. A community.

“If we’re missing these things, we feel it. In fact, it’s described as the ‘god-shaped hole’ [a term first coined by Christian philosopher Blaise Pascal in the 17th century] as it’s so ingrained in us to feel these connections,” she explains. But whereas, in the past, our grandparents only had one place to fill their need to connect – be it the church, mosque, synagogue or temple, depending on their faith – we have a myriad of choices, along with the courage and wherewithal to access them. It’s why banker Becki Gray, 32, chose to see a shaman after a recent break-up.

“A friend had seen her, I read her book and I thought it was right for me. I didn’t want to spend years analysing things via therapy. I wanted to realise the feelings and move on to whatever path I was supposed to travel next.”

And it’s why advertising executive Alli Highfield, 36, chose a therapy called intuitive mentoring.

“I had just changed job and it wasn’t working. I had no colleagues to confide in and friends could only help so much. I knew whatever I did had to come from inside me, but how do you access that without someone’s help?”

Traditional communities are breaking up and reforming in line with today’s hectic lifestyle. Our needs as humans are the same, we’re just finding different methods to service those needs.

Transparency

‘Believing without belonging’ is felt by many emerging spiritual disciplines to be reflective of a new age of transparency. Look at the exposure of entrenched but corrupt structures of governance that we’ve witnessed in recent years such as the banking crisis and expenses scandal – they believe this transparency applies to bankers and politicians as equally as it does to our spiritual guidance.

“We no longer want to be told what to do, we want to feel it and find it out for ourselves – and religion doesn’t allow for that,” explains Katie Winterbourne, an intuitive therapist practising at London’s Urban Retreat at Harrods.

“It’s too dogmatic. Within spirituality, though, the whole aim is to find your own truth. People are asking ‘Why am I here?’ and they need places to answer it in a way they believe.”

And as traditional religion fades away, fewer orthodox belief systems are finding their place in the foreground, arming us with the support and guidance we need to find our way through life. There are plenty of paths for the godless disciple to follow, ranging from Sunday-morning sing-alongs to weekend workshops, so we’ve tracked down seven new practices that may just give you the spiritual answers or sense of community you’ve been searching for.

1. Godless Gatherings

With the motto “Live better, help often, wonder more”, Sunday Assembly (sundayassembly.com) aims to give members a space to contemplate how amazing it is to be alive – but also a community who’ll support you when that doesn’t feel true. Their gatherings attract hundreds of people and, having begun in London, are now springing up in different venues around the world – from Sydney to San Francisco. “It seems it’s what people have been looking for, a place to belong,” says Sanderson Jones. “We won’t tell you how to live – but we’ll try and help you do it the best you can.” Other godless groups include One Love Get Real – their ethos is that we’re all spiritual beings on a human journey, not the other way round. “To me, that feels like a more authentic way to live,” says Louise Ashfield, 35, a One Love Get Real attendee and care worker from Surrey. “I’m finding if I tap into that, things go well for me.”

Is there still a place for organised religion?