Joy in Twinkie Eating

A review/reflection of Sacred Stories, Spiritual Tribes: Finding Religion in Everyday Life, by Nancy Tatom Ammerman. Oxford University Press, 2014

I want to speak to all of the parishioners of the “golf course,” the “solitude of nature” and other individualistic experiences of spirituality. Stop it.

I’m speaking to those who would say that there is a God but one who can be found in the simple joy of eating a Twinkie. Stop it. Stop your selfish spirituality. Yes, there is something soothing and powerful about a good, fresh Twinkie as well as nature and I suppose golf can have some redeeming qualities. Yes, we can experience the presence of God (or whatever it is that we are experiencing) in moments of isolation. In fact for many of us it may be those moments of isolation (i.e. prayer) that are the most profound and moving. Maybe time on the boat, time in the garden, time walking the dog, and time chasing a tiny ball is time that is deeply spiritual and rewarding. But that is not all there is to engaging with that “other.”

What it is that gets me is those who use the time of spiritual isolation as the totality of their spirituality. There is no connection with a community. There is no accountability, no sharing, and no challenging of one’s experience. I understand that spiritual communities (some call them churches) can be overwhelming at times or just downright militaristic about the “right way” to believe. A lot of hurt and harm has happened because of religious communities that have pushed exclusion, hatred, and focused on power over the basic tenants of their particular faith. Stay away from those places. There are others (some call them churches) that are engaging, encouraging, and supportive. These are places where you will find people who want to walk with you in your spirituality, and I believe you will be a better person.

Ammerman’s work in part considers the role religion and spirituality play in everyday life. In this work Ammerman and her colleagues offer findings from a brilliant sociological project where they looked to find where people connect with something bigger, with a “Sacred Consciousness.” They made the bold move to look beyond religious institutions and rituals connected to religious traditions; they looked at what many would claim to be the mundane and found an awareness of the sacred. It is not only in churches where the divine can be found. In fact it is more often not in churches where the divine can be found but in the ordinary workings of life. People have, Ammerman argues, a “sacred consciousness.” While Ammerman does not fully develop the notion of “sacred consciousness” she does make it clear that people are aware of a presence or an opportunity to engage with something greater than oneself. There is a sense that there is something more. What that something more might be can vary from person to person. It can be the aesthetic quality of a good experience or the belief and awareness of the presence of a holy other. Hence the golf course, Twinkie eating experience.

What Ammerman also points out is the role religious institutions can play in articulating and giving language and focus to such experiences.

Congregations gain their potency as spiritual tribes, not through their exclusivity or high boundaries but to the degree that they create spaces for and encourage opportunities to imagine and speak about everyday realities through the lens of sacred consciousness. (302)

It is through religious communities that one can find a language and a grammar that speaks to the sacred experience, that has wrestled and continues to wrestle with the questions, and that can offer guidance and focus to one’s own search for spiritual connection. Ammerman is good in pointing out how the impact of a religious community is felt beyond the walls of the institution and seeps into the ordinary of the everyday life. You can still eat that Twinkie but now you may have a prayer extolling the great Creator who gave humanity the knowledge to create such yummy goodness.

Beyond the grammar, religious communities seem to push people to go beyond themselves and to be more. Ammerman points out that those connected with religious communities tended to volunteer for charitable actions more than those who did not (296). Religious communities have a level of expectation on its participants that can (although sadly does not always) lead to good works. It is good for you to be a part of a community.

So stop being spiritually lazy. Put down the Twinkie and find a place to connect. Through those communities your experience of the Holy Other can be enhanced. You can find a deeper awareness of the Divine’s presence in your life, in the brilliance of nature, the time on the golf course, or in the sweet, blissful moment when you take that first bite from the Twinkie. Ammerman’s book does not negate but celebrates the experience of the sacred in the ordinary. From my reading of Ammerman’s work I would say that participation with a religious community only enhances such an experience and increases such awareness. Your Twinkie eating experiences will never be the same.