A hope deep within

According to research by McCrindle, 19 per cent of Australians say they’re significantly open to changing their religious views.

BY LIEUT-COLONEL LYN EDGE

Search ‘spirituality’ online and you’ll be met with a flood of images of light beams, lotus flowers, and people meditating in yoga poses. While those images speak to one form of spiritual expression, they don’t quite match the everyday Australians I know. You won’t find many of us in lotus position on the beach at sunrise. But does that mean Aussies aren’t spiritual? Or is there a uniquely Australian spirituality that isn’t seen on an internet image search?

Back in 2007, Australian sociologist Gary Bouma explored this very question in his book Australian Soul. He challenged the idea that spiritual life in Australia was fading, arguing instead that it had simply taken on a quieter, more personal form. Australians, he wrote, tend to express their spirituality in more understated ways than in other Western countries. He called it a kind of “laid-back” spirituality, less tied to formal religion, but still real and meaningful.

Bouma reflected the words of historian Manning Clark, who famously described the Australian spiritual sensibility as “a shy hope in the heart”. Clark wrote, “There is a profound shyness – yet a deeply grounded hope – held tenderly in the heart of Australia. It is not characteristically Australian to trumpet encounters with the spiritual … Australians hold the spiritual gently in their hearts, speaking tentatively about it.”

Enduring interest

That image of a quiet, fragile hope is still relevant today, according to recent research.

Just a couple of months ago, in June 2025, McCrindle Research published a major report titled An undercurrent of faith. Drawing on Census data and a national survey of over 3000 Australians, the findings push back on the idea that Australia is becoming entirely secular. Instead, they reveal something deeper flowing beneath the surface: a quiet, enduring interest in spiritual things.

Australian spirituality shows up not just in church buildings, but around fire pits, in shared meals, in quiet conversations. You can see it at dawn on Anzac Day, when people gather in silence and remembrance. These moments may not be overtly religious, but they carry weight. They connect people to one another and to something bigger than themselves. In a way, they’re sacred.

In fact, nearly half of all Australians say they prayed in the past week. Unsurprisingly, most people who identify as religious reported praying regularly, but so did 12 per cent of those who say they have no religion at all. Even among people who don’t identify with any faith, some still find themselves reaching out to something, or someone, beyond themselves.

And there’s more. The same report found that 19 per cent of Australians say they’re significantly open to changing their religious views. That number has been rising

steadily – from just eight per cent in 2011, to 12 per cent in 2017, and now nearly one in five. Even among the non-religious, 12 per cent are open to rethinking their stance.

The drawcard

So, what’s drawing people in? It’s not hype or celebrities. Seventy per cent of Aussies say they find celebrity endorsements of Christianity off-putting. We tend to be wary of showiness, and we’re more interested in genuine relationships than public displays of faith.

What draws Australians to Christianity is the sense of community and belonging (36 per cent), the peace and hope it offers (33 per cent), and the way it inspires compassion and care for others (30 per cent). These things matter, especially when life gets tough, or when you’re searching for something deeper.

Australian spirituality shows up not just in church buildings, but around fire pits, in shared meals, in quiet conversations. You can see it at dawn on Anzac Day, when people gather in silence and remembrance. These moments may not be overtly religious, but they carry weight. They connect people to one another and to something bigger than themselves. In a way, they’re sacred.

So, if you were to google ‘Australian spirituality’, maybe the images that would better reflect our national soul wouldn’t be beams of light or yoga mats. Maybe they’d be mates talking deeply over dinner, people standing side-by-side at a dawn service, someone walking barefoot along the beach, or volunteers serving in a community kitchen.

Because while the form of spirituality in Australia may be changing, the hunger hasn’t gone away. Aussies are still searching – for hope, for connection, for peace. And while we might not shout it from the rooftops, deep down, many of us still carry that “shy deeply grounded hope in the heart”.

Lieutenant-Colonel Lyn Edge is a Salvation Army officer (pastor) in NSW.