The town where I live is small enough that, on weekends, the paper just lists all the services going on — sort of like a movie listing, but for faith. And I find myself going through the list, thinking, No, that’s too early, or, Does that place have parking?

I’m really, really interested in the mega-churches that operate in the States (there are no mega-churches in Newfoundland). I can’t see myself becoming a member of such an assembly, but I’ve read about how they actually provide a lot of social services (employment skills training, food banks, daycare), and this notion intrigues me.

More to follow, as I make my way to another service this weekend.

The relationship between loneliness and religion is really complex. Many studies do show that highly religious people report less loneliness. This is in part because religious individuals are likely involved in group-oriented activities (attending mass, etc.), and because the figure of God can become another “person,” so to speak—someone to turn to with problems, ideas and worries.

The problem is that “FINDING GOD!!” is not so easy for everyone. Not everyone is religiously inclined. Even those who do attend religious services might find themselves feeling lonely during the service, making loneliness seem doubly hard to bear.

I always feel very cautious when I see anonymous people online, or in religious pamphlets and books, urging me to turn to God as an antidote to loneliness. For some people, religion will help. For others, especially those who have lost or who have never found their faith, the advice is completely unhelpful.

It’s not in LONELY, but one of the things I did when intensely lonely was begin attending Catholic mass at a small chapel near my house. I have to say that those evenings (I went to a 7:00 service) always left me feeling calmed. I liked the Catholic tradition of shaking hands—sometimes these fleeting handshakes could provide me with the sense of touch I so badly needed.

I liked it that there was no commercial aspect to the service. I liked it that I could arrive as early as I wanted and leave as late as I wished. I liked it that hardships were discussed in the sermon, making me feel as though it was fine and normal to be leading a life that felt difficult. I liked it that solitary individuals were often held up as admirable, and that “crowds” and “groups” weren’t glorified the way they are in pop culture.

In short, church, or religion, or whatever you want to call it, really did make me feel less lonely. I remember one evening when I was so lonely I felt haggard. I didn’t want to sit near others in case they could “tell” how lonely I was. But the service comforted me, and I left church that evening feeling—if not connected—then at least less alone.

I think that one thing a religious service does is allow you to see other people as “safe.” Loneliness cues threat perceptions, making us see the people around us as potential hazards. And everything—at least in the church I went to—was so hushed, the people so respectful and deferential, the lighting so soft, that it let me break out of the pattern of feeling threatened around others. It let me be with others while feeling (at least for the duration of the service) secure. I think this is an extremely important element in overcoming loneliness, and one that should be more widely available.

I’m not sure why this is, and it’s something I want to change. How does one choose a new church? How do you become part of a congregation? I guess you just show up one day, and keep showing up, and over time the place starts to feel familiar, but I’m hesitant to take that first step….Updates on this to follow.

I am probably the least “fundamental” person you’ll ever meet. I’m into all sorts of left-wing things, like animal rights, and veganism, and feminist politics. But when my loneliness was at the I-can’t-take-it-anymore stage, I found myself becoming more fundamentalist.

You don’t have to kneel on the ground in a Catholic service, but I admired men who did. I liked it when people held their hands upwards during prayer (again, something that is not required). I started reading Catholic theologians. I thought about Jesuits. I toyed (I kid you not!) with becoming a nun.

That is, my overpowering loneliness was pushing me towards a more hard-lined approach to religion than I’d ever taken. Now that my loneliness is less severe, I’m consciously leaning towards more open and less doctrinaire congregations, like the Society of Friends. But I saw the allure of fundamentalism when lonely. I understand it. And I wonder where it would have led me if I’d really allowed it to take over.

More on this, since it leaves me feeling very curious….