Perhaps you have read some of the recently published columns and articles naming the political differences tearing churches apart these days. For example, New York Times columnist David Brooks opened his Feb. 4 column with these words:

“Think of your 12 closest friends. These are the people you vacation with, talk about your problems with, do life with … Now imagine if six of those people suddenly took a political or public position you found utterly vile. Now imagine learning that those six people think that your position is utterly vile …Your life would change.”

Yes, if you’re like many in our country, your life is changing in this precise way, and it’s fracturing some of your most precious relationships. We — as citizens of the United States, as communities of faith, and as families — are experiencing a growing chasm between different belief systems.

I’ve been serving a large Unitarian Universalist congregation in Port Townsend for four years now.

One thing I’ve learned since arriving is that the membership is anything but homogeneous.

Some are economically secure, and others are struggling to keep a roof over their heads.

Some are facing end-of-life challenges while others are still learning how to tie their shoes.

There are vegetarians and carnivores, linear thinkers and non-linear thinkers, those who swing to the political left and those who swing to the political right.

In this way, our congregation is not that unusual. What sets us apart is our theological diversity.

It’s true. If you step inside our sanctuary, you will discover Christians, Buddhists, Jews, Humanists, Taoists, Indigenous folks and seekers of all kinds sitting right next to each another.

“How can this be?” you may be thinking.

Mine is not an evangelical faith; we do not proselytize. So, I’m not trying to convince you that our approach is any better or worse than anyone else’s. I mention it because we have some experience in focusing upon what holds us together when our belief systems differ.

I expect sharing this info many elicit a few nasty emails, and who wants to receive those? Not me.

But I take this risk for an important reason: Our country is fracturing right now and we must figure out how to bridge the chasms between us.

I believe that every struggle presents an opportunity for spiritual growth, and the question before us now is: Can we get to the point where we need not think alike to love alike?

At their core, all the great religious traditions open us up to the Great Mystery. They don’t close us down.

They help us move to a place of profound humility and connection.

We ask to consider: What gives us peace beyond understanding? What do we care about so profoundly that we willingly, joyfully, devote our lives to it? What is the purpose of our lives?

When we focus on what we truly love, we find that we often love the same things — friends, family and being of service to others in the name of God and/or the Greater Good.

We realize that we need one another. We gather in houses of faith because we want a place where we can come together to remind ourselves of what is truly worthwhile. That is what worship is — it is an affirmation of what we collectively find worthy of our devotion.

This is our challenge. We must know what we love. And then we must let that love guide us.

This, my friends, is true religion.

It is not really religion without belief. It is religion beyond belief.

It is a religion to be lived.

It is a religion grounded in love.

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Issues of Faith is a rotating column by religious leaders on the North Olympic Peninsula. The Rev. Kate Lore is a minister at the Quimper Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Port Townsend. Her email is katelore@gmail.com.