It Is Not Good for Humans to Bowl Alone

Never Alone - Part Eight

“We are good by nature but corrupted by society.”

—Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712–1778)

It’s easy to notice the bad all around us. I mean, we are inundated with bad news all the time. Bad news sells. Disaster, pain, loss, violence, and political upheaval are all part of precise “attention algorithms” designed to optimize user engagement on media platforms. These algorithms capitalize on psychological triggers such as curiosity, empathetic response, and vicarious catharsis, to keep us glued to our screens.

So, if you were frustrated by all the idealistic, pie-in-the-sky goodness talk in the last post, here’s where we get to the “bad stuff.” Pessimists, realists, scoffers, doubting Thomas’s alike… this one is for you!

In the beginning, everything was very good. The world was full of beauty and harmony. But then came the fall, and the first fracture in this goodness—a break in our relationship with God and each other. The serpent manipulated the first humans, leading us to believe that we were lacking something essential. We were deceived into thinking we were not enough, that something more was needed to truly be “like God.” In that moment, shame entered the world, and with it, isolation.

Sin began with separation—not just from God but from each other. Adam and Eve, ashamed of their nakedness, hid from one another and from God. Our guilt fractured the relational harmony of the garden, leading us to cover ourselves and withdraw from the intimacy we once shared. The ripple effect of our disobedience was far-reaching. What was once “very good” is now fragmented, and distorted. Aloneness is the soul wound of the original trauma.

“It is not good for the man to be alone.”
—Genesis 2:18

The very first “not good” in the creation narrative, precedes the fall, and echoes across the ages to the present moment. God sees the “not goodness” of humanity alone, for our inherent design is to be in relationship—not just with one another but with God. As relational beings, isolation is foreign to our original design, a violation of our created purpose. This is the heart of our deepest longing—to belong, to be seen, to be known, to love, and to be loved. As Merton reminds us, “Love is my true identity. Selflessness is my true self. Love is my true character. Love is my name.”

The Old Testament features a rich vocabulary for sin, with over forty terms that emphasize its central importance in Scripture. Sin is depicted as disloyalty and disobedience, rupturing relationships with God, others, and nature. One obvious instance of sin occurs when Cain murders Abel, and God warns him of sin’s lurking presence (Genesis 4:7 NRSVue). In the very first family, we already have a homicide. Not good indeed! The Hebrew word ḥaṭṭā'āṯ (sin) often refers to “missing the mark,” symbolizing falling short of relational expectations. Other terms, such as pâshaʻ, highlight actions that disrupt social harmony.

Sin extends to all of humanity, fracturing every relationship and contradicting God’s intent for peace and well-being (shalom). It also distorts our connection to nature, including the land, plants, and animals. Guilt (ʼâsham) follows sin, representing a state of being cursed and awaiting punishment. Sin isolates us from God and others, with exile and wandering acting as recurring themes that describe the state of sin.

Thus, isolation is both the act and consequence of sin. Theologically, sin is likened to a universal human condition, akin to a virus, manifesting as “inbeing sin,” which distorts our nature. This innate distortion, the “original trauma” leads to self-preservation mechanisms, such as hiding and blame-shifting, as seen in Eden. Sin causes relational fragmentation, and its ultimate consequence is death, the state of ultimate loneliness.

This not-goodness, this isolation, didn’t just stop in Eden. It spread like a virus through the ages. It distorts not only our relationship with God but also our connection to ourselves, one another, and the very fabric of creation.

Bowling Alone

In his seminal work, Bowling Alone, American political scientist Robert Putnam argues that the decline of social capital, leads to a host of societal ills, from declining mental health to diminished happiness. Putnam highlights how Americans have increasingly stopped participating in traditional forms of group membership, such as civic organizations, religious groups, and social clubs. Rather than bowling together in leagues, we are bowling alone.

The networks of relationships and norms of reciprocity have significantly declined in American society since the 1960s, largely due to factors like technological changes, suburbanization, and generational shifts. Putnam argues that this decline in joining and engaging with organizations has contributed to a broader erosion of prosociality, diminishing both individual connections and the strength of community bonds, weakening the social fabric and undermining the collective well-being of communities. [1]

The Biological Need for Connection

In his book Together: The Healing Power of Human Connection in a Sometimes Lonely World, Dr. Vivek Murthy emphasizes that loneliness is not just an emotional state, but is an aspect of our biological wiring.

While loneliness can feel overwhelming, it is also a signal that we need connection. The feeling of loneliness reflects the deep relational needs embedded within us. This underscores how humans, as “social animals” deeply need one another. Loneliness, as a biological signal, much like hunger or thirst, reminds us of our need for human connection.

There are three main dimensions of loneliness:

1. Intimate loneliness—the longing for a close, intimate partner or confidant.

2. Relational loneliness—the yearning for close friendships and social companionship.

3. Collective loneliness—the need for a community that shares a common purpose and interests.

These types of loneliness show us how our relational needs are manifold. We are designed not only to connect with others but to experience community on various levels—emotionally, socially, and collectively.[2]

Loneliness in the Age of Technology

In today’s world, it seems that technology, meant to bring us together, often leaves us more alone than ever. In her work Alone Together, MIT sociologist Sherry Turkle examines the phenomenon of “connected isolation,” where we are linked by screens but still ache for deeper connection. The digital age, for all its promises of global community, can often trap us in a false sense of belonging.[3] Just as Cain built a city in Nod to live apart from God’s presence, we too can use technology in a way that can distance us from the true connection we need.

This “alone together” state is not new. It’s as old as the Tower of Babel, where humanity tries to create false unity, using technology to build a tower to the heavens.

And yet, there is hope. The entire Bible is the story of God’s unwavering pursuit of us, even when we hide in our isolation. God’s response to Adam and Eve’s shameful hiding is not condemnation but a graceful question of love: “Where are you?” God calls out to us, again and again, reaching into our loneliness with God’s compassionate, never-giving-up love.

A Call to Real Community

At the heart of our loneliness is a deeper truth: we were made for authentic, life-giving relationships. The sin of isolation—the retreat into ourselves when we are hurt—continues to fracture our relationships. But the good news is that God, who calls us back into community, has never given up on humanity. Whether through the garden or the desert, through the cross or the empty tomb, God’s invitation remains: “Where are you?”

Though we have created ways to live “alone together,” the true antidote to loneliness is more of God’s presence in our personal and collective lives. God calls us into genuine community, where we no longer hide in shame but live in the light of God’s love.

So, what do we do with our loneliness today? We let it point us to God, the ultimate source of connection, and we seek out real relationships, rooted in love, grace, and mutual care. Even as we live in a fractured world, God continues to call, “Where are you?” And in that question, we find the hope for healing, for restoration, and for community.

In our modern world, healing is often thought of as a solitary journey, a private pursuit achieved through self-reflection or therapy. But this view misses a critical aspect of our emotional and spiritual restoration—the communal nature of healing. We are the most therapized generation in history, and yet U.S. mental health is getting worse by multiple metrics.

In the Bible, true healing is a communal endeavor. James 5:16 says, “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” This verse reinforces the idea that we heal through one another. Confession, vulnerability, and mutual support allow us to release burdens that would otherwise weigh us down in secrecy. We are not meant to journey alone. It is in community—through the act of sharing our pain, confessing our struggles, and leaning on others—that we experience true healing.

Healing also comes through testimony. In spaces like twelve-step programs and fresh expressions, people share their personal stories of brokenness and redemption. These stories—painful and vulnerable as they may be—create opportunities for others to identify with their experiences, find hope, and begin healing. The act of lament, seen in the Psalms, offers a theological and emotional framework for this process. Walter Brueggemann’s model of orientation, disorientation, and reorientation captures the journey of healing: good, alone, together. Lament shared in community becomes a powerful means of collective healing, allowing us to process grief together and find renewal.

Thus, the spiritual journey of “Original Goodness,” “Original Trauma,” and “Original Unity” is a communal endeavor. These stages highlight that we are all created in goodness, experience trauma, and are ultimately restored through connection—both with God and one another. Original Unity, the realization that we are already one and never truly alone, is a cornerstone of healing in community. In a world marked by isolation, understanding our interconnectedness can be deeply transfiguring.

The church, in its truest sense, is a gift to the world—a community meant to be blessed, broken, and freely given. The church should be a refuge, a place where brokenness is not hidden but embraced, where people can confess, mourn, and receive healing. In this space, healing is not a matter of individual effort, but of mutual care. It is not about withdrawing from the world but moving outward, disrupting the epidemic of loneliness with acts of love and connection. The “loving first journey” of Fresh Expressions provides a simple pathway to cultivate this kind of community.

By creating spaces where people can be real, share their pain, and experience grace in community, we can offer a powerful counter-narrative to the isolation that so many people experience. The church can be a healing space where we are not alone but made whole together.

The Treasure Hunt for Goodness

Yes, it’s easier to notice the bad, the distortions, the not goodness. It’s easier to bowl alone because true community is hard. True community, koinonia, involves loving one another even through differences and disagreements.

Yet just beneath all the fragmentation is the original goodness, often right in front of our eyes. Jesus orients his disciples to the goodness... “do not worry about your life,” … “Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them” … “Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin” (Luke 12:22-32). There is good all around you. God’s gracious provision. Live one day at a time. Cultivate an attitude of gratitude. God is good. You are good. The world is good.

Every moment is filled with the treasures of God’s goodness. What if we saw every day as a treasure hunt for goodness, beauty, and truth? What if part of our calling is to point people to the goodness that is already there? The goodness that exists in every person and every place already. What if we were to showcase the good that is often hidden beneath the veil of the bad?

In a world bowling alone, what if we learned to do life together.

---

[1] Putnam, R. D. (2000). Bowling alone: The collapse and revival of American community. Simon & Schuster.

[2] Murthy, V. (2020). Together: The healing power of human connection in a sometimes lonely world. HarperWave.

[3] Turkle, S. (2011). Alone together: Why we expect more from technology and less from each other. Basic Books.

---

Join the Never Alone Release Day webinar receive exclusive introductory content from the book! Registration is free…