Recent data suggests a significant rise in “spiritual but not religious” Americans. In 2018, Ross Douthat wrote about the rise of modern paganism. He noted some forms of modern paganism “offer ritual and observance, augury and prayer,”and other practices that “promise health and well-being and good fortune.” One such form is “explicit Neo-paganism, Wiccan and otherwise.” Bianca Bosker similarly wrote for The Atlantic in 2020 about the rise in witchcraft, and some have even heralded Wicca as the fastest-growing religion in the United States.
This shift has been chronicled in a recent book and podcast by Justin Brierley. But perhaps its most significant documentation came in Tara Isabella Burton’s 2020 book Strange Rites. Burton describes the growth of the “spiritual-but-not-religious,” for which she uses such descriptors as “remixed religion” and “intuitional religion.” She includes an entire chapter devoted to the rise of witchcraft and neopaganism.
My conversations with others about the gospel corroborate this trend. They’ve led me to wonder, Where have all the atheists gone? These broader cultural changes suggest we need a new approach to apologetics. We’re no longer trying to argue with ardent atheists but to compel impressionable spiritualists.
Spiritual but Not Religious
Let me introduce you to three friends of mine who illustrate this. They’re people with whom I’m actively sharing the gospel. None of them is a Christian (yet). But I’ve had fruitful and interesting spiritual conversations with each.
1. Josh
Josh (names are changed throughout) used to be our neighbor, but he’s remained a friend. He has no particular religious background—though one of his parents is nominally Catholic. He’s in his early 30s and lives with his girlfriend of several years. They’ve talked about marriage but just haven’t gotten around to it. He works a stable job, has a vast array of interests, and can tell you everything you want to know about topics as diverse as philosophy, kinesiology, and the stock market.
We’re no longer trying to argue with ardent atheists but to compel impressionable spiritualists.
For a time in his 20s, Josh was a hardened atheist. His heroes included Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins, among other new atheists. But eventually, the apparent meaninglessness of his materialistic atheism became evident to him, and that approach to life grew thin. He became skeptical of scientific claims about the world and even shared with me that the Genesis story is one of his favorites in the Bible: “The whole thing with the snake, it just makes sense! I mean, who’s to say evolution is real anyway?”
At some point in the last few years, Josh began to believe in God. More recently—as a result of a turbulent international flight—he even began to believe it’s important to have a relationship with God, which he’s pursued through prayer and meditation. But as of yet, he doesn’t believe it’s necessary to submit to a particular religious tradition. It’s enough, Josh believes, to swim in the pool without picking a lane.
2. Sarah
Sarah is a server at my favorite local coffee shop. She grew up in the Midwest and moved to Nashville to pursue music. She, too, is in her early 30s and in a long-term relationship. Sarah is also into astrology—big time. She’s so into it she reposted stories on her Instagram claiming astrology could’ve predicted the assassination attempt of Donald Trump.
Sarah is kind, gracious, and hospitable. She’s noncombative about her spiritual beliefs. She’s even expressed interest in coming to our church sometime. Yet she’s devout in her commitment to her spiritual worldview.
3. Tyler
Tyler—again, early 30s—moved to Nashville from Portland a few years ago to help open a bar in town. He, like Josh, was a cynical atheist, disbelieving anything beyond the natural realm. During the pandemic, however, his life and his worldview totally changed. He stopped drinking and started reading and painting. He began to pursue a career as a visual artist and later opened a successful tattoo shop. He also made friends with a modern-day shaman who introduced him to spiritual realities mediated by psychedelics.
This started a spiritual journey that led Tyler into the pews of our small church—where he’s been most Sundays for the past eight or nine months. When asked what he appreciated about our church, he said (not in these exact words) the expository preaching; the simple, nonperformative music; and the rich, hospitable community. But Tyler still isn’t a Christian. When pressed with direct questions, he admits he doesn’t think it matters whether the whole thing is “real” or not. “The Jesus story,” he once told me and a group of friends, “if it really happened—amazing. If it didn’t really happen—still amazing. Doesn’t affect me at all.”
What do all these three have in common? None of them is a Christian, yet each has a worldview shaped significantly by the supernatural, the spiritual. They’re all “spiritual but not religious.”
Challenge for Evangelism
The growth of this new (or new again) religious category presents a challenge for Christians called to share our faith and make disciples. Many of us were trained in evangelism and apologetics focused on atheism. We were given tools designed to engage with secular, naturalistic, scientifically minded atheists. But the backdrop against which many of us now share the faith is no longer a cold, dead atheism; it’s a teeming, magical supernaturalism. This calls for different questions, different approaches, and different arguments.
The backdrop against which many of us now share the faith is no longer a cold, dead atheism; it’s a teeming, magical supernaturalism.
Much work will need to be done to fit new tools for this new task—work that lies beyond the scope of this article. But I wonder, even as we develop those new tools, if our primary work isn’t to recommit to the oldest tools we have. We mustn’t forget that the greatest resources we have for evangelism and apologetics are those we’ve always had: prayer, the Word, and the local church.
There’s nothing so powerful in turning the heart of a lost person to Jesus as prayer. There’s no word so capable of piercing a sinner’s heart as God’s Word. And there’s no plausibility structure more compelling than the living and loving church. These three tools, themselves deeply supernatural, should give us every confidence as we explore the new frontier of evangelism and apologetics in our spiritualistic age.
The Gospel Coalition