The traffic signal turns from its red light to its left-turn green light, and I enter the intersection to make my left-hand turn.
Suddenly a driver from the opposite direction enters the intersection, ignoring or oblivious to his or her own red traffic light, and narrowly I avoid a collision.
In just the last two weeks, Ingrid and I have had to stop our mid-left-hand turns four or five times, and just in time.
In church circles, "spiritual but not religious" pretty much boils down to this: "I believe in God [or some spiritual entity or life force or pan(en)theistic experience], but I don't belong to an organized religion."
Of course, this is not new. The New Testament author James wrote something about this in the first century:
"What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill', and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead" (2:14-17).
Organized religion has one virtue at least among all its failings— it organizes real responses to real life situations, from pastoral care to systemic justice.
I hope and pray that this rash of through-the-red light drivers is merely anecdotal, and does not mean that the "spiritual but not religious" attitude is leaching into traffic theology:
"But officer, I was driving spiritually."