It comes down to whether religion is, at least in part, inherently social. I was struck recently reading Mikhail Bakhtin's theory of the "feast of fools." The author thinks the ordinary understanding of inverting the normal master/slave relations (the king is a peasant, the fool is a king, men and women exchange dress, etc...) was really
secondary to the real emotional impact of carnival. In carnival, he thinks, individuality melts into a single communal voice and mind, and people, as much as they ever can, "lose themselves." This has a lot of echoes in the Bacchanal and other early forms of public worship that are the precursor of public religious observance. Early religion is not a personal relationship with the divine -- in fact it's the opposite: Agamemnon must sacrifice Iphigenia in a public ritual -- that's the stripping away of the personal for the communal will, not just anybody's, but the king's who under normal earthly circumstances has the broadest range of personal will. Jesus' sacrifice is likewise, although it takes it to the highest possible level -- not just a king but a god. I'm convinced that the idea of quiet, personal contemplation is the later imposition of the Greek Platonic philosophic temperament on Jesus' original, eastern community expression. And even so, the history of Christianity is a sort of class division between elites with a fragile, Apollonian, private contemplation of an intellectual God and the masses with the raucous, Dionysian, communal worship of a physical God.