top of page

What the Science of Flourishing Is Learning From Religion

  • 9 hours ago
  • 5 min read

“Rather than scoffing at religion…scientists should be studying spiritual practices as a source of ideas and inspiration” — David DeSteno, author of How God Works: The Science Behind the Benefits of Religion



For a long time, many people assumed science and religion lived in different neighborhoods—one dealing in facts, the other in faith. But psychologist David DeSteno, in his thoughtful work How God Works, suggests something surprising: science is discovering that many ancient faith practices have quietly been helping human beings flourish all along.


I listened to DeSteno in an interview and read a few of his articles. One of them was in Wired of all places which focuses on topics like artificial intelligence, digital security, and technology trends. The possible link is that DeSteno investigates what he calls “spiritual technologies” particularly those ancient ones aimed at flourishing.


That caught my attention, because much of what positive psychology tells us about well-being—what Martin Seligman calls PERMA: positive emotion, engagement, relationships, meaning, and accomplishment—has deep echoes in spiritual traditions. Long before laboratories measured gratitude or compassion, people were blessing meals, singing together, praying through grief, practicing forgiveness, and gathering in communities of care.


Maybe faith traditions were not only preserving beliefs. Maybe they were preserving ancient habits for flourishing.


I love that phrase because it captures something deeper than ritual. Habits are practices we grow into. They shape us over time. And these ancient habits—tested not in laboratories but in the messy beauty of ordinary life—may carry wisdom we are only beginning to appreciate anew.



Take gratitude. Science shows gratitude can increase generosity, patience, and even ethical behavior. DeSteno’s research found people were less likely to cheat after taking time to count their blessings. Faith traditions have known something like this for centuries. Saying grace before meals, morning prayers of thanks, keeping Sabbath as a practice of noticing gifts—these are not only religious gestures. They are ancient habits for flourishing, training the heart toward abundance rather than scarcity.


And that matters for flourishing.


Or consider synchrony—moving, singing, chanting, or praying together. DeSteno’s research shows people who move in rhythm feel more connected and become more likely to help each other. Suddenly congregational singing, responsive liturgy, even swaying in prayer look less quaint and more like relational wisdom. Shared rhythm builds shared heart.



That sounds a lot like the “R” in PERMA—relationships.


Then there is compassion. Studies of meditation, including those DeSteno cites, show contemplative practices can increase kindness even toward difficult people. Again, ancient traditions nod knowingly. Of course they can. Practices shape persons.


I have long thought compassion is not merely relieving suffering, but helping promote flourishing. It notices fears, longings, aching wounds, and stifled gifts. Good faith practice often does the same. It does not just comfort pain; it calls forth possibility. And compassion thought of this way is almost identical to what Christians called agape love – love which aimed at, even yearned, for well-being not just one’s self or one’s family or even one’s tribe, but in strangers, even enemies.


Even grief rituals, DeSteno notes, may carry healing wisdom. Funerals, prayers of lament, lighting candles, sitting shiva, communal mourning—these too are ancient habits for flourishing. They help us bear sorrow together and keep grief from hardening into isolation.


And maybe this is where faith contributes something especially needed in our fractured age: meaning.


Positive psychology has increasingly recognized that flourishing is not just pleasure or productivity. Meaning matters. Purpose matters. Belonging matters. Faith traditions have been tending those gardens a very long time.



This does not mean science “proves” religion, nor that every practice is automatically wise. But it may mean, as DeSteno suggests, scientists and spiritual traditions have more to learn from one another than either side once imagined.


I find that hopeful.


It also feels deeply practical.


When I look at many ordinary faith practices through this lens—blessing food, showing up in worship, singing with others, praying for enemies, keeping Sabbath, practicing confession, offering compassion—they begin to look less like obligations and more like pathways of formation for abundant life. Small repeated acts that shape resilient, loving people.


Ancient habits for flourishing.


In a restless culture that often offers stimulation instead of depth, these practices can become gentle counterweights. Gratitude steadies us. Ritual grounds us. Community carries us. Awe enlarges us. Compassion and brotherly love softens and strengthens us at once.


Perhaps what science is discovering is not that religion has all the answers – we have used religion in so many harmful ways, but let’s remember these beautiful, practical practices, embedded within many traditions that help human beings become more whole.



That sounds a lot like the good life. I’m all for life being less complicated as I age.  Here are three simple ways we can hold on to some of the ancient ideas as well as scientific practices for flourishing.


Three simple ways to begin -


1. Practice one daily habit of gratitude. Before breakfast or before sleep, name three blessings or gifts you have received and three you have given lately. Let thanksgiving become training for the heart.


2. Join one shared rhythm. I'm using rhythm loosely here. Sing, pray, worship, meditate, eat or serve WITH others. Shared practices build belonging in ways solitary striving cannot.




Now I am making this one up, but the idea might work for those who cannot get out.  Sing, pray, worship, meditate with others on the radio or television or phone or computer. Of course, being with others in person is the best, we are social creatures, but this is a possibility. Working out (like soul cycle), doing yoga, dancing (some religions do this), walking with others (like a pilgrimage) might function as an alternative if done with a "spiritual mindset." (More on that below.)


3. Let compassion become a habit. Offer one deliberate act of kindness each day (OR do five in one day, some research supports that too). Ancient wisdom is not worth much unless it becomes used and practiced and embodied.


One reader lately told me that the blog on Do You Want Help, A Hug, or to Be Heard? was valuable for herself as she recuperated and also as she thought about what others might need. An act of compassion can be that simple a hug, or to listen, or to pick up someone’s mail.


What ancient habit for flourishing might you reclaim—or begin—to help you live more deeply, love more fully, and flourish more freely?


Let me take a little but related lateral…I think off the top of my head that  a spiritual mindset would be for me, one that is open to the possibility of an alternate reality, one where cosmic love is the deepest truth (John writes in his first epistle that God IS love and those who abide in love abide in God); so that at we can reflect for at least one moment each day on the incredible, mysterious experience, the amazing gift, of being here for just a little while on a perfect blue dot whirling through space; and so that we can know deep down in the marrow of our being, that if we can just allow ourselves to be fully present, then a simple brief encounter with a person, with a bird, with a word, with a song, with rock, with a sky, with a cup of tea, can carry extraordinary depth…meaning, joy, and beauty. If I can hold that mindset a least for a moment, everything and everyone becomes a potential soul feast.



 

 

Comments


bottom of page