Comfort for a Quiet Ache
Exploring the loneliness epidemic and rediscovering the ties that bind
The glow of a phone screen reflects off a student’s face as he checks his social media feed on the bus ride to school. A retiree relocates to a community far from familiar surroundings to be closer to her children. A father misses his daughter’s soccer game to attend a work meeting for a job he needs to make ends meet. A recent college grad applies to 28 jobs online and receives no responses.
These scenarios describe how we spend much of our time these days: constantly surrounded by or interacting with other people. Yet simultaneously, many of us struggle to recall a time when we’ve felt seen—not just noticed but truly known. The number of people who report feeling lonely has been growing worldwide, across cultures and populations, giving way to a crisis of epidemic proportions.
Referring to loneliness as an epidemic is not an overreaction.
The trend of rising loneliness began in the 2010s, saw a dramatic spike during the COVID pandemic and has continued to escalate since, leading groups such as the World Health Organization (WHO) and the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to label loneliness a public health crisis.
Today, one in four people worldwide experience loneliness, according to the WHO. The likelihood jumps within certain groups, including young adults (ages 18–35), older adults (ages 55 and older) and those living in low-income settings. Loneliness is also a more widespread problem in the United States, with close to 50% of Americans reporting feeling “sometimes” or “always” lonely.
The fact is that many of those around us, and many of us ourselves, live in loneliness.
Human loneliness isn’t a new phenomenon—but certain conditions have created an ideal environment for it to thrive.
It might be tempting to think that the loneliness we’re feeling stems from personal weakness or failure, when actually it’s better explained by broader dynamics and structures within the world today.
For one thing, studies show that we’re by ourselves more often than in the past, trading in-person interaction for secluded scrolling and screen time. The 2024 American Time Use survey showed that time spent with friends and family has dropped 50% since 2014.
Phil Smith, who attended Messiah with the class of 1976 (and who’s a great-grandson of Messiah’s founder, S.R. Smith), recently co-wrote a book* on loneliness and connection that describes how cultural factors, including technology, are changing the relational landscape. “Our close friendships
are in decline, with over half of Americans now reporting having three or fewer close friends,” he explains. Additionally, technology has resulted in decreased attention spans, increased anonymity and mistaking what we see online for reality.
Other relatively recent social norms like remote work and living alone contribute to us being on our own more often. And historically, people contending with economic hardship, health issues or disability have frequently faced barriers to accessing public spaces.
Jocelyn Chavous ’17, a national certified counselor who serves as assistant dean of students and director of student success at Messiah, points out that in addition to systemic elements, personal life transitions— starting college, moving, beginning a new job or retiring—can contribute to feelings of isolation and loneliness. “Here on campus, students are not only trying to find acceptance and connection with others in a new place but may also be learning how to accept themselves as an emerging adult,” she says.
But alone time and life transitions don’t fully explain the epidemic’s emergence.
Increasingly, we’re surrounded by other people but still sense a separation.
Karen Harrington ’93, residence life educator for Grantham Hall and special interest houses, and assistant director for upper class experience, notes that social and political polarization often squashes the civil exchange of ideas and our sense of collective meaning, replacing them with a rise in dehumanization. This all leads to superficial or snap judgments of those we encounter.
“We might be asking, ‘How are you?’ but we’re not sticking around for an answer,” Harrington shares.
The physical, emotional and spiritual upshot of loneliness and isolation is staggering.
One meta-analysis equates the effects of chronic loneliness and social isolation to smoking 15 cigarettes a day, elevating health risks like heart disease, stroke and dementia. Not surprisingly, loneliness often means that an individual’s mental health is suffering too, making it twice as likely they will experience depression, anxiety or thoughts of self-harm.
In short, we’re not at our best when we’re feeling alone. Chavous observes, “Just about every wellness wheel model we use in the field of counseling has an aspect that demonstrates that to be a whole or thriving person, you need community.”
Fortunately, we have reasons for hope.
The rising trend of loneliness is reversible. In fact, the very groups most impacted by loneliness can offer inspiration for changes that lead back to connection and community.
Young adults can teach us how to put down our phones and take a social risk. Studies may show that Gen Z spends more time on their phones than previous generations, but they also show that younger people are more aware of the problems that screen time can pose and more likely to take steps to curb their use. The trick is to fill the vacuum caused by limiting screen time with fulfilling alternatives.
Leaders at Messiah are keenly aware of the loneliness trend, especially among the ages of students that they serve, and are intentionally building structures to nurture the direct opposite: belonging. Chavous says, “I’ve appreciated Messiah’s multitiered approach to foster student connection across campus. There are ways students can gather in large groups and settings—Welcome Week activities, residence hall floor events, clubs— but also in smaller, more intimate groups such as Bible studies, academic cohorts and smaller club meetings or gatherings.”
Older adults can teach us the lost art of face-to-face visiting. As part of my hospice volunteering, I (Kimberly Forry) learned to know Celeste.** Recently encouraged to move out of her apartment by her children and her doctor, Celeste struggled to adjust to her new home in an inpatient retirement facility. On admission, she declined visits from volunteers; she didn’t want to socialize. Instead, she expressed how unhappy she was to anyone who would listen: her family, her nurses, the doctors. Her pain ratcheted up, affecting her sleep and making her feel miserable.
Then one day, a volunteer from the facility came by to check in. She’d heard that Celeste had experienced an especially rough night and wondered if Celeste wanted to talk about it. Surprisingly, Celeste found that she did. In fact, she talked for the next hour, not only about her physical pain, but about her emotional pain at leaving her independence behind. And when the volunteer asked if she could visit again, Celeste readily agreed. One hour of listening and empathy from a stranger led to months of rich visits and friendship until Celeste passed away.
The Global Church models how to create space to find belonging, even in our areas of greatest vulnerability. Smith explains that while researching their book, he and his coauthors witnessed powerful examples set by churches ministering in communities impacted by poverty. “As we met followers of Jesus around the world, we encountered something remarkable: Christ-centered communities where genuine belonging flourishes, where people truly know and are known, where interdependence replaces independence, where commitment outweighs convenience,” he says.
In every context, Smith notes, “The Church has the unique calling to respond to a world in need, serving as a catalyst for Christ-centered community.”
While worship services often provide an entry point, churches can embrace many avenues to foster community and empower people to meet their needs together—groups that help members pay off debt, process grief, parent, learn a language, work through addiction or discuss books or current events.
Smith’s research has shown him the challenges of addressing the loneliness epidemic. But he and his co-authors believe the power of Jesus and His church provide a positive antidote. “We’ve seen and experienced the depth of transformation that occurs through living out Scripture’s calls to welcome, commit to and know one another in Jesus’ name—in the internalized way of living as God intended. We’ve seen it in the developing world, here in the U.S., and in our own lives. We’re hopeful, very hopeful!”
Chavous agrees, “To me, belonging means that you are accepted for who and how God made you. It can rewrite the narrative that has been in your head and affect the ways we see and feel about ourselves.”
*The Way Back to One Another by Phil Smith, Jill Heisey ’06 and Jeff Galley
**A pseudonym
—Kimberly Forry ’00