by A. J. Jacobs

(Note: The author, a secular Jew, seeks to live for a year following biblical law as literally as possible. In that, he makes a pilgrimage to Israel and discovers something crucial. I highly recommend this book to you. It is a great read)

"This afternoon, as I am walking along some twisty cobblestone streets of the Old City, I turn a corner and witness what has to be the highest density of spiritual devoutness on planet earth. The scene is this:

Dozens of brown-robed, Franciscan Friars are slowly, solemnly walking the Stations of the Cross, their hands clasped in front of them. They are singing "Ave Maria," accompanied by a single-speaker boom box strapped over the right shoulder of one friar. Another friar is swinging a miniature umbrella in the exact same way that altar boys swing incense lamps.

Then, slicing though the crowd comes a family of Orthodox Jews. The father − his head topped by a brown fur hat the size of a manhole cover −leads the way, with eight Hasidic children trailing behind in single file. And, at that same moment, mingling with the "Ave Maria," comes the Muslim call to prayer over a tiny loudspeaker. A man with a fez edges past the Hasidic Jews. All three Abrahamic faiths intersecting on the same street.

It's an astounding sight. And it makes me feel more alone than I've felt since Project Bible began.

Here I am, a stranger in a strange land, away from my wife and child, in a city where everyone belongs to his or her own gated spiritual community. It drives home a disturbing point: My quest is a paradoxical one. I'm trying to fly solo on a route that was specifically designed for a crowd. As one of my spiritual advisors, David Bossman, a religion professor at Seton Hall University, told me: "The people of the Bible were ‘groupies.' You did what the group did; you observed the customs of your group. Only the crazy Europeans came up with the idea of individualism. So what you're doing is a modern phenomenon."

I've loved that crazy European individualism all my life. To use author Robert Putnam's phrase, I bowl alone, and I've always preferred it that way. It gives me more control, or at least the illusion of it. It's made me resistant to joining anything…

This year I've tried to worship alone and find meaning alone. The solitary approach has its advantages − I like trying to figure it out myself. I like reading the holy words unfiltered by layers of interpretation. But going it alone also has limits, and big ones. I miss out on the feeling of belonging, which is a key part of religion….

Maybe I have to dial back my fetishizing of individualism. It'd be a good thing to do; the age of radical individualism is on the wane anyway."

Copyright © 2009 St. Augustine by-the-Sea