‘I’m not religious’ is something many say, but religion is a place of reconnection and realignment. Good mental health grows in a healthy religious experience.

Say the word ‘Religion,’ and you’ll get lots of reactions.

The word ‘Religion’ can a springboard to thoughts of rules, regulations, rituals, commitments, vows, attendance at meetings, obedience, hierarchy, and people often wearing funny-looking clothes.

Religion is often seen as a straightjacket to freedom. You must do certain things to get right with God and be part of the group.

But I think we are all prone to want to find a religion of our own, even making a religion we can call home.

Let’s look into the word religion a bit deeper.

The reconnect of Religion.

If we look into the history of the word, we find that it comes from two words  re-ligare, i.e., re- (again) + ligare or “to reconnect.”

Re-ligio is to re-ligament or reconnect.

I see a surgeon reconnecting ligaments and bones back into the sockets where they have been pulled out.

There is a reconnection to something bigger than oneself.

We’ve drifted, detached, disconnected, and want to come home to the unity of something bigger than ourselves.

There is also the thought of realignment. That religion offers a realignment to a drifting soul. Here is the path. Walk this way—a compass to follow.

We all have a religion.

Using these definitions, I think we all have a religion.

A method by which we reconnect with something bigger than ourselves. Something that realigns us.

We may not be conscious of it, but it will be there calling us back to a conformity.

It might be that sport you love. It could be a personal philosophy or a political party.

The religion of communism or capitalism.

We all have a religion, but it may not meet in a building on Sunday.

So what can a religion offer you?

Playgrounds and fences

It was a busy neighborhood, and cars, buses, and trucks drove many of the streets. But there was no place for the children to play, to have fun, explore, climb, fall and kick a ball.

Nowhere for lovers to walk and children to make friends.

So the parents got together and found an empty area in the middle of their neighborhood and petitioned the town council to create a park full of swings, jumps, and climbing frames.

It was agreed, and the building began.

Trees were planted, a water fountain installed, flower gardens, picnic tables, park benches, climbing walls, poles to swing off.

This was a place where all could come and reconnect to the joy of play and fun.

First kisses would be experienced. Lifelong friendships would form. People could stretch out on the grass and enjoy the summer sun.

But nearby was that busy, dangerous road. It was a huge risk for any child chasing a ball.

So the council built a fence.  It was strong and sturdy and stopped any errant ball or flying frisbee.

Everyone was safe while they stayed within the park’s boundaries, within the fenceline, inside the lines of love and respect.

Religion, in many ways, offers the nuts, bolts, and mesh of the fenceline. We know the rules, the norms, and social conventions.

For newcomers, it has to be taught.

‘In this park, we don’t have wild drunken parties; it’s not safe for the children. And we don’t do drugs.Go to some other park if you want to do that.’

Sadly though, there are many people more interested in focusing on the fenceline and rule board at the entry gate than enjoying the relational benefits of the park.

They may even form committees to ensure everyone knows the rules and that the fenceline is strong and robust.

I once had someone come to me wanting to point out the fenceline, the rules, the regulations. When I suggested we talk about a Jesus story about the fence line, he wasn’t interested. ‘I don’t want to talk about Jesus’ was his response. BIG RED FLAG!

I was inviting him to play on the Jesus climbing frame, and all he wanted to do was inspect the tightness of the mesh fence.

His religious playground was small, black and white