Many satisfy their spiritual needs without going to church

Last Sunday, the cafes and eateries along 15th Avenue East in Capitol Hill bustled with young couples and groups of friends, for whom Sunday morning meant different things: sleeping in, reading the paper, drinking vats of coffee, or sometimes all three.

But the one thing Sunday morning adamantly did not mean was church.

"I never understood as a kid why people went to a specific place to have a spiritual experience," said Jen Brownlie, a 32-year-old organic farmer's assistant who was reading The New York Times at Victrola coffeehouse, bare feet propped on a chair.

"Any religion is filtered through human perspective. I have a real problem with the thinking, 'My religion has the true answer, and your god is wrong.' "

Down the street at Coastal Kitchen, where crowds waited 45 minutes for eggs and coffee cake, customer Martin Horn said he had gone to an Assemblies of God church as a kid, which had up filled up nearly every day of the week. There was Bible class on Wednesdays, fellowship on Fridays, potlucks Saturday and of course worship Sunday, both morning and night.

But these days, you won't find him anywhere near a house of worship.

"Organized religion bothers me in a variety of ways. The dogma legitimizes hatred towards gays and blacks, and a lot of it is embedded in misogyny and patriarchy," said Horn, a 33-year-old technical writer.

Brownlie and Horn are not alone. Last month, a survey on U.S. religious groups found that Washington was one of the most unchurched states in the nation, ranking second only to Oregon in the rate of people who are not part of religious congregations.

About 67 percent of people in Washington do not participate at a church, mosque or temple, compared with a national average of 50 percent, according to the 2000 Religious Congregations & Membership study, the most comprehensive survey of national organized religions. It is conducted every 10 years.

Pastors, religious experts and non-churchgoers attribute the Northwest's secularism to a variety of factors. They said the region's "frontier" history of settlers has attracted people with fewer ties to institutions and tradition. Some said people seem too busy for church, while others said church can't compete with the Northwest's natural beauty: Who wants to be inside on a Sunday when you can hike Mount Rainier?

"This is a place that attracts free spirits," said Dave Shull, a minister at University Congregational United Church of Christ, who came here from the Midwest. "I have never lived in a place where so many people said they came here just because they wanted to."

That free-spiritness translates into the oft-heard notion, "I'm spiritual, but not religious," in which many people say they are suspicious of an institution's understanding of spirituality, Shull said.

At the same time, many people view nature as a way to seek the divine, whether it's as an environmentalist, hiker, skiier or follower of holistic diets and medicine.

"I don't think they consciously think, 'I'm worshipping now' when they go out hiking, but it's a way to deeply express their spirituality," Shull said. "I think that is a way people's spirits are fed -- by expressing their gratitude for this incredibly gorgeous part of the world."

For Victoria Aristeo Landis, a shop manager in Capitol Hill, religion is hypocritical, but spirituality feels genuine. An Italian American who grew up in Philadelphia, she was raised in a strict Catholic environment until she rebelled in her early 20s.

"I just pulled away from church. I hate how most wars, maybe all wars, are religious wars. A lot of people say my religion is the right religion, whether it's Mohammed or Jesus, but when you look at it, it's all the same thing."

Despite her religious misgivings, Aristeo Landis, who declined to give her age, wonders if she should offer religion to her three teens. She says religion can offer spiritual guidance, ease suffering and provide a "positive energy," and she has encouraged her daughter, who has many Jewish friends, to explore Judaism.

But she has no personal need for religion -- or special practices to be spiritual. "I think spirituality is how you treat other people and yourself. I think it's sincerity and honesty. You love God, love yourself, love the God within yourself."

For many devout people who move here from other parts of the country, the Northwest's lack of religious tradition is surprising. Anne Barton, a new priest at Good Samaritan Episcopal Church in Sammamish, moved here from South Dakota, the third-most-religious state in the country, and immediately noticed a "rugged individualism" here.

"That means, 'It's going to be my spiritual journey, my life,' " she said. "There's a real focus on self-discovery."

Barton's observations desribe Matthew Porosky's outlook, which began in Catholic schools and parishes as a kid, and evolved into a smorgasbord of spiritual activities.

"I think religion is identifying with an outside group. Spirituality is identifying with something inside you," said Porosky, a 32-year-old environmental educator from Seattle.

He didn't consider himself anti-religious, but said he would never return to the Catholic church. For one thing, he considered himself agnostic. Secondly, there were many other outlets for him to feel spiritual: When he was communing with nature on a snowboard or in hiking boots; when he paints watercolor landscapes or writes in his journal; when he practices Buddhist meditation.

Besides, he said, he usually reserves Sunday mornings to simply hang out with friends. "There's other places I could spend an hour on a Sunday than in church," he said.