Tag: Church

• Who’s Giving Up On (the Institutional) Church? It’s No Longer Just the “Casual Christians” who are Disappearing

  Here’s a fascinating quotation from Laura Anderson’s important and insightful book, When Religion Hurts You: Healing from Religious Trauma and the Impact of High-Control Religion:

  Anecdotal evidence suggests that the largest group of people who are leaving evangelicalism are not those who were mildly involved or nominal believers. Instead, the people leaving are among the most committed—those who studied the holy texts; served others tirelessly; gave at the expense of themselves, their families, and their well-being; and shaped their lives around the mission of the church. People leaving these religions altogether are often left feeling disillusioned not only with the religious system but also with the people at the top of these hierarchical structures and those they “did life with” day to day.

  I know “anecdotal evidence” can means lots of different things and can be interpreted in a variety of ways, but for what it’s worth, this tracks with my own experience: it seems that a lot of people who have previously been very committed to active church membership are now either walking away from engagement with the institutional church, or at the very least are exploring new ways of doing faith community.

  What, pray tell, does this mean?

  

  The shrinking of American Christian Churches is nothing new (and similar dynamics have been at in many other parts of the world as well, sometimes ahead of the American curve). To look at just one denomination, the Episcopal Church:

  • In 1966, there were approximately 3.4 million Episcopalians (that’s a total number, which includes both active and inactive members).
  • By 2016 that number had dropped to 1.9 million.
  • In 2022 the membership was down to 1,584,785 — a reduction of well over 50% in less than sixty years.

  Those numbers are even more sobering when compared to overall population growth: during this same period of time, the population of the United States grew from 192 million to 333 million. In other words, in 1966, about 1 out of every 57 Americans was an Episcopalian; by 2022, only 1 out of very 210 Americans were part of that church. And this is  hardly unique to the Episcopal Church: similar trends can be seen in most denominations. Even Catholicism has sobering numbers, if you factor out immigration: in other words, without the large influx of Catholic immigrants over the last half century, Catholicism’s numbers would not be that different from other denominations.

  Meanwhile, it seems like this process has been gaining traction, especially since the Covid-19 pandemic. I spoke at a church recently where the people were warm, friendly — and few in number. A beautiful suburban church, probably built in the 1950s or 1960s, it never bounced back from a contentious split over music in worship, followed by the pandemic. Several people in attendance told me that a decade ago their average Sunday attendance was over 300; now it’s about 50. And yes, some people join the worship via streaming, but even with that, the numbers don’t add up. I wish I could say this was an isolated incident, but I’ve seen this again and again. Churches — at least institutional churches — are in what Elaine Heath has called a “dark night of the soul.” In her excellent book The Mystic Way of Evangelism: A Contemplative Vision for Church Outreach, Heath (former dean of the Duke Divinity School) compares the changes happening at the institutional level to John of the Cross’s great metaphor for the radical letting-go that is part of a maturing spiritual life.

  

  There used to be this idea that Christianity in the mid-20th century included a lot of people who could be described as “cultural Christians” — the kinds of folks who identify as Christian, who make sure to have church weddings and funerals and to have the kids baptized and confirmed, but otherwise have only a social or cultural relationship to church; they attend church because it’s the cultural norm, and often perhaps only attend on major Feast days (the so-called “Christmas and Easter Christians”).

  For years, my contention (and I think that of many others) was that Christianity’s institutional decline was mostly driven by the disappearance of cultural Christians. People with only a social connection to Christianity became less inclined to honor those old family or cultural expectations. You don’t need church anymore for weddings or funerals or any other rites of passage. So the thinking was, “Yes, there are fewer of us, but the ones who show up really want to be here, so the church may be smaller but is healthier than ever.”

  But if we are to take Laura Anderson’s assertion seriously, it sounds like more than just the casual church-goers are opting out of the institution. If the church is now losing “the most committed—those who studied the holy texts; served others tirelessly; gave at the expense of themselves, their families, and their well-being; and shaped their lives around the mission of the church” then perhaps the church’s dark night of the soul has truly reached a crisis point.

  What does all this mean for contemplatives? My answer is very much shaped by my personal perspective and experience, so this is only one thought, but I offer it for your consideration. For years, I have been inspired by Karl Rahner’s famous quote, “the Christian of the future will be a mystic or will not exist.” I find church to be a meaningful part of life, and have felt that if locals congregations became more contemplative, it would make them spiritually healthier and perhaps even start to attract new members.

  Friends, I am in the process of rethinking this. I’ve previously quoted Howard Thurman’s striking words from 1939 on this blog, but they bear repeating:

  The mystic seems always to be the foe of institutional religion. He [sic] is very sensitive to the crystallizing of acts of worship into dead forms. It is profoundly true that he does not stand in need of the institution or the institutional forms as such. Even in Catholicism any careful reading of the testimony of the mystics convinces one that the church has no real friend in the mystic.

  If you want to see this quote in its original context, it’s found on pages 114-5 of A Strange Freedom: The Best of Howard Thurman on Religious Experience and Public Life.

  

  I don’t know if the “most committed” Christians that Laura Anderson sees leaving the institution are mystics or not; but of course, I believe everyone is at least a mystic-in-potential; it seems to me that the people who are engaged in prayer, study, service, and other forms of worship are people who are at least open to the possibility of a life-transforming relationship with the Spirit. If we have reached the point where the mystics are leaving the institution, then it seems to me that the institutional form of Christianity is not just having a dark night of the soul — it is experiencing its own crucifixion. The institution as we know it is very likely going to die.

  The wisdom tradition of Jesus, of course, is all about resurrection. So I don’t believe the death of the institutional church is the end of Christianity or of Christian mysticism. But at this point in my journey, I am increasingly persuaded that the future of Christian will not only be mystical and contemplative, but it will be either post-institutional, or at the very least the institutional shape of faith communities will look very, very different from what it looks like today (or a century ag0).

  There’s a lot of patriarchal and authoritarian inertia at play in the institutional churches. I imagine the Catholic Church, in particular,  will lumber along for years if not decades and centuries to come. But I believe that the changes that first will be coming to the smaller Protestant and Evangelical Churches will eventually impact even Catholicism, because these changes are not just theological in nature: they are the result of sweeping societal changes reflected in our technology, our communications networks, our level of education and accessibility to information (including religious teachings from around the world), and an increasing rejection of old models of authority, hierarchy and control, especially among younger people.

  But those who choose just to stick with the old way of doing things are ignoring the plain reality that millions of people simply don’t find spiritual care or nurture in the old institutional forms. Some of those people are just secularist, or conscientiously object to church teachings on certain issues; but many have genuine hearts for meaningful spirituality, and the churches have let them down. Many such people are contemplative. They only show up at church on Wednesday nights, to attend a Centering Prayer meeting (and nowadays  that’s more likely to be on Zoom).

  So here are the kinds of questions I’m wrestling with:

  • What does mystical and contemplative Christianity look like in a post-institutional church?
  • Does the word “church” even matter any more? If church no longer matters, then how do we “love our neighbors as ourselves”?
  • If we no longer accept the old model of church as a pastor tending for his flock (complete with a  capital campaign and regular work days to maintain the building), then how do we foster meaningful and sustainable community for today and tomorrow?

  And a few more, specifically for  those of us who still have some sort of ties to the institution:

  • Are we listening to our friends and neighbors and children and grandchildren, to let them tell us, openly and honestly, why the institution just doesn’t work for them?
  • And how can we respond, compassionately and non-defensively and with a contemplative heart, to those conversations?
  • If you are in ministry or church governance, what are the best things we could be doing not to preserve the interests of an old institutional model, but to continue to share the liberating wisdom of Jesus and the mystics to a brilliant and imaginative young generation of authentic spiritual seekers?

  I know, this is one of those posts with lots of questions and no answers. I believe these are questions that only the Spirit can answer, but the Spirit will answer — in our hearts, one by one. Meanwhile, if you are a contemplative Christian or a student of the mystics, I encourage you to remain faithful to silence, meditation and prayer, and to join me and others who are seeking to discern the gradual unfolding of the divine will for what the spirituality of the future will look like: both in individual and communal ways.

  Featured Image: Wells Cathedral, England. Photo by Haydon on Unsplash. Used by permission.

  October 9, 2024

  Church

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• Contemplating How the Sausage is Made

  Twice in recent days I’ve had conversations with people in ministry about their spiritual life, and the idiomatic phrase “seeing how the sausage is made” got used. Here’s a (paraphrased) example;

  After I became a minister and saw how the sausage is made, it changed my relationship to the church.

  I love idioms, although as a vegan I suppose this one isn’t my natural favorite! But I love how evocative it is for “seeing the messy process that’s usually behind the scenes.”

  Even as a longstanding vegetarian, I remember enjoying sausage in my carnivorous youth (and I still enjoy eating the plant-based sausages that are readily available — although I’m not sure I want to see how they are made, either!)

  So that’s the power of this idiom: when we really like something, but then learn more about it that maybe changes our perspective (and not for the better), what do we do then?

  Church is a lot like theater — or even many businesses that have a public face and a behind-the-scenes reality. For so many people, their experience of church is limited to Sunday morning worship and maybe participation in a weekly Bible study or some other type of educational offering. Perhaps they volunteer to help maintain the buildings and grounds or to teach Sunday School. Even people who end up giving many hours a week to their church may not necessarily get to see how the sausage is made.

  Behind-the-scenes leadership is usually limited to the paid staff (clergy and lay employees) and the leadership council (usually a group of church members who are elected or appointed to an official leadership role in the community). Churches that are part of a larger denomination (like the Catholic Church or the Episcopal Church) also have ties to the larger church community through regional, national, and even global leadership and bureaucracy.

  So why should it be a big deal to see how the sausage is made? Aren’t churches by their very nature spiritual organizations, implying that people in positions of leadership will bring a mature ethical sensibility and a commitment to spiritual values to the work they do?

  Ah, if only…

  Navigating Disillusionment

  We live in a time when more and more people have become disillusioned, not just with churches, but with institutions and large, influential organizations in general. People are suspicious of large corporations, of the government, the military, the healthcare system, and yes, the churches.

  I think “seeing how the sausage is made” as far as church is concerned is the simple recognition that religious organizations are just as susceptible to power politics, bureaucracy, petty rivalries, abuse, and protection of the institution even when that causes harm to others — pretty much just like any other institution.

  But we expect more from organizations that claim to be promoting spiritual values and ethics. So the disillusionment that comes when we see how the sausage is made just stings a lot more.

  Many people have conscientiously chosen to disaffiliate themselves for religious institutions. They have stopped participating in church and often have ceased to identify as Christian. Some simply become secular; a small number may gravitate toward other faith traditions like Buddhism, but many simply begin to think of themselves as spiritually independent or spiritual-but-not-religious.

  Meanwhile, many people (and not just those who work for the church) try to keep some sort of connection to the institution, because of their deep and strong loyalty to the wisdom teachings of Jesus and the great saints and mystics down the ages. Frankly, this is who I’ve been for much of the last twenty years.

  But the more I see the sausage production, the greater I find cognitive dissonance between my love for the wisdom teachings of the Christian tradition and the challenges of being part of a culture that has seemed to undermine those teachings so frequently.

  Hey, I’m no saint, the last thing I want to imply is that I’m somehow better or holier or more advanced spiritually that people in church. On the contrary! In fact, I do believe that many, perhaps most, people in churches tend to be sincere folks who genuinely want to cultivate their spirituality and rely on the church to guide and teach them.

  The problem, it seems to be, is with the system — there’s something about institutionalism that seems to undermine the radical nature of Jesus’s teachings and instead promote values that seem to be, well, just ordinary human values: values based on power, on identity and conformity, on systems that reward loyalty and punish those who don’t fit in. In other words, the kinds of values that Jesus himself often challenged.

  I am not saying we should all give up on the church. I don’t think it’s wrong to keep working within the system. But I also don’t believe it’s wrong for some people to conscientiously leave church.

  I don’t have any answers here. But I just want to acknowledge that this is a problem that I don’t believe is going to go away anytime soon.

  The Contemplative Perspective

  I called this blog post “Contemplating How the Sausage is Made” not only because this blog is about contemplative spirituality, but because I think this is increasingly going to be an important task for all of us who are drawn to contemplative practices and values. Whether we are affiliated with a church or faith community, or not, we need to be aware of how the sausage is made.

  We need to remember that churches struggle with the same power dynamics, internal competitiveness, egotism, abdication of responsibility, and other problems that beset any other large organization. It’s a myth to assume that churches are going to be better than other institutions. Because increasingly, I believe institutionalism itself is the problem — or at least a big part of the problem.

  If contemplative spirituality matters to you, and you are still part of a church community, please take the time to see for yourself how the sausage is made. And make it a priority to consider how you can safeguard your love for contemplative spirituality even while dealing with the messy humanity of the church.

  If you are not part of a church community, please don’t judge those of us who are — try to understand how the institution operates so you can sort out the difference between our individual human foibles and how institutions seem to have a tendency to amplify our collective weaknesses.

  Most important of all, be faithful to your contemplative practice. Sit in silence every day. Read and study the mystics. Participate in contemplative gatherings like Centering Prayer groups or monastic oblate communities. Just because institutions are so broken doesn’t mean we don’t need community. We need community more than ever before.

  Here’s a prediction: in the next one to two hundred years, entirely new models of community organization and governance will emerge, not only within Christianity but within the human family in general. For Christians, this will represent a new opportunity to be faithful to the message of Jesus while hopefully avoiding the shadow side of churches as they exist today. Whether this means we’ll have a new reformation, or entirely new churches/models of community will emerge, I don’t know.

  But I think if you love the mystical tradition but have given up on the institutional church, try to do what you can to remain faithful at least to mystical spirituality and contemplation. Because whatever the church (as a structure) looks like in a century or two, it will need contemplatives and mystics. So it’s up to us to do what we can to keep that wisdom alive.

   

  Featured image by Silar; licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

  July 29, 2024

  Church, Contemplation, SBNR, spiritual but not religious, spirituality

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• How to Deal with Catholics Who Disapprove of Centering Prayer

  A reader of this blog named Pawel writes:

  Hi Carl, What would be your advice for someone returning to Catholic faith through a practice like Centering Prayer (having been immersed in Eastern traditions for many years), but coming up against objections when trying to start with the “basics”? For example, I was looking for a good Bible study and came across The New Adventure Bible and the podcast by Fr. Mike Schmitz which look great, but I was dismayed to learn that he doesn’t approve of the practice of CP (https://bulldogcatholic.org/2016/05/12/centering-prayer/). This makes me frustrated. Or should we somehow try to not expect teachers and guides to understand it, and ignore their objections and focus on the good parts of their teachings? Many thanks, Pawel

  Thanks, Pawel. I looked at the link you provided, and from the very first sentence on, it misrepresents Centering Prayer. It betrays a disturbing lack of understanding of the history of Christian spirituality, coupled with a kind of theological xenophobia that is very much inconsistent with the spirit of Vatican II, which is to say, it’s outside the mainstream of Catholic spirituality. But, alas, this anti-Centering Prayer movement, part of a larger anti-interfaith dialog and even anti-contemplation movement, gets plenty of oxygen online, especially thanks to the ultra-conservative Catholic media empire EWTN.

  But you asked for advice — and clearly, my first suggestion is to recognize that hostility to Centering Prayer is based on bad theology, a poor understanding of history, and spiritual xenophobia. Just as it is important to recognize that the people who believe in QAnon and believe that the 2020 election was fraudulent are placing their trust in bad information, likewise Catholics and other Christians who attack Centering Prayer for being “un-Christian” are likewise either acting in bad faith or have been misinformed.

  Unfortunately, understanding this does not make their criticism go away. And just as we now live in a democracy where the poisonous actions of a small group of people has threatened the entire structure of our governance, so too the unfortunate ideas of a minority of Catholic chauvinists continue to circulate online, causing many sincere but uneducated Catholics (and other questions) to unnecessarily fear a beautiful and ancient form of Christian prayer.

  Now, before I go deeper with my “advice,” let me make a fairly strong disclaimer. I think the most important words I can give you (or anyone) who is thinking about becoming Catholic — or making any other significant change in religious identity — is to trust your own heart and your own inner wisdom. Don’t change your religious identity to please anyone but yourself – and to foster your relationship with God. If you sincerely believe that your relationship with God can be better nurtured as a Catholic, then be Catholic. But if Catholicism proves to be an impediment to your faith development, then please (or stay) go where you can grow spiritually. I think God is far more glorified by vibrant, healthy Protestants than by frustrated, ill-at-ease Catholics — just as I think God is more truly glorified by happy Buddhists than by miserable Christians. And if it makes me a bad Catholic or a heretical Christian to think this way, then so be it.

  So, my first suggestion to you, Pawel, is to take the time to truly understand what is driving your return to Catholicism. If it’s mostly about Centering Prayer, do you really need to be Catholic? Many non-Catholics (even some non-Christians) are dedicated practitioners of Centering Prayer. I do think it’s beautiful to embed a stable Centering Prayer practice in a sacramental faith community, but strictly speaking it’s not absolutely necessary. So take the time to consider if you are simply trying to deepen your Centering Prayer practice or if you are, in addition, truly discerning a desire to participate in the sacramental life of the Church.

  Here’s a good thought experiment for this: would you still want to return to the Catholic Church even if Centering Prayer were no longer part of your spiritual practice? To be clear, I’m not suggesting that you need to “give up” Centering Prayer, no matter what those who are hostile to the practice might think. But if you could (or could not) imagine finding fulfillment as a Catholic even without Centering Prayer, that can be a helpful way of discerning what you truly want, regarding the Church.

  So now, let’s say you discern that you truly want to be a practicing Catholic, regardless of the role that Centering Prayer plays in your life. Whether we like it or not, in a church as big as Catholicism, there will be theologians, bishops and teachers who say things that we conscientiously disagree with. It’s a reality, and to think otherwise is to fool yourself. There is a lot of pious nonsense in the Catholic world about the church’s custodianship of the one true faith, implying that there is only one correct way of thinking about any given issue. But in fact, throughout history there has been just as much conflict and disagreement in the Catholic world as in any other human organization. Becoming a Catholic is not about conforming ourselves to a narrow, rigid, this-is-the-only-truth kind of doctrine. Rather, it is about immersion in a vibrant community of faith where there always has been, and continues to be, a variety of theological, moral and spiritual perspectives on many aspects of Church teaching, theology and spirituality. This is okay. What it means, however, is that we all have to find peace with the fact that we are members of a church where some people will bitterly disagree with us about many things.

  To me, this diversity of thought and theology and practice is part of the glory of Catholicism, even though it means I have to deal with the messiness of being in communion with people like all the misinformed Centering-Prayer-haters. It also means I have to take responsibility for my own spiritual health and well-being, by nurturing relationships with intelligent, informed Catholics who are well educated and have a good grasp of history and theology. I won’t agree with those Catholics on every point either! But at least I can trust that their views are thoughtful, informed, and conscientious. I don’t mind disagreeing with people, even people I break bread with on Sunday mornings. But I do think we all owe it to each other to be conscientious about the ways in which we disagree.

  So. If you are joining the Catholic Church, do so because you truly want to be Catholic, and not just because you are drawn to a single aspect of Catholic Culture (like Centering Prayer). And if you do decide to become a Catholic (or, indeed, to affiliate with any religious community), be at peace with the fact that you will sometimes conscientiously disagree with other members of your community — or even your leaders. A wise priest once told me that disagreeing with the Church does not make one a bad Catholic. But to be a happy and effective Catholic, even when you disagree with the Church or with many members of the community, requires a firm grounding in the love of God, the humility to accept that disagreement is normal, and the compassion to find ways to live peacefully even with those who are your ideological opponents.

  If all of the above seems impossible, then you’re back to square one: maybe God is calling you to a different path. And that’s okay too!

  I hope this is helpful, and I wish you many blessings on your journey!

   

  September 26, 2022

  Catholicism, Centering prayer, Church

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• “Do I stay Christian?” A Conversation with Brian D. McLaren on a Significant Question for Our Time

  Last Wednesday I had the distinct honor of being part of a group interview with leading Christian theologian Brian D. McLaren. The occasion was in celebration of Brian’s latest book, Do I Stay Christian? A Guide for the Doubters, the Disappointed, and the Disillusioned. It’s a provocative title and, indeed, a provocative book. Brian is aiming to have a balanced but honest engagement with people who are identity as Christian, and/or participate in the institutional church, but now are considering whether it’s time to abandon that identity (and membership). To Brian’s credit, the book is not just a one-sided infomercial for why staying (or leaving) is the only correct answer. Rather, Brian aims to explain as best he can why it makes sense to leave — and likewise, why it makes sense to stay. In the end, he argues that perhaps the most important issue is not “do I stay or go?” but rather, “How can I live a meaningful, authentic, life of integrity — whether I remain in the church or not?” While this balanced and inclusive approach is sure to have its critics on both sides, I think he has come up with a wonderful, thoughtful book that can be helpful for anyone truly discerning what their relationship to Christianity (and the church) should look like moving forward.

  We recorded the interview, so check it out:

  And be sure to get a copy of Do I Stay Christian? — if you like to shop at Amazon, click here to order a copy (making a purchase through this link will support this blog, as Amazon will pay a small commission at no extra charge for you).

  

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  May 30, 2022

  Books, Brian D. McLaren, Christianity, Church

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• Do I Have to be a Member of a Church to be a Christian Mystic?

  Here’s a question I sometimes get asked:

  Do I have to be a member of a church to be a Christian mystic?

  Like so many aspects of the spiritual life, the answer — to borrow a phrase from Facebook — is “it’s complicated”!

  To begin to get a sense of this, let’s think about not only church but also community.

  Whose Feet?

  In chapter 9 of The Big Book of Christian Mysticism, I make the case for community as an essential ingredient of the mystical life. I say this:

  Relationship forms the heart of Christianity, whether we are relating to God or to one another. Christianity undermines the idea, prevalent in our secularized society, that God is nothing more than a metaphor for the deepest, highest, or best parts of ourselves. While faith in Christ invites us to seek God within ourselves, we are not seeking just a part of ourselves. Rather, we are seeking to become part of something much bigger than ourselves — the God who is greater than the cosmos. We can seek this because, paradoxically, this transcendent God has been seeking us all along. We love God in response to God’s love for us. Likewise, Christianity also offers an alternative to the pervasive narcissism and self-obsession of our time, by calling us to look for God not only inside ourselves, but also through each other… Since God is in each of us, when we gaze into the eyes of our friends and neighbors and fellow Christians, we are gazing into the Temple of the Holy Spirit. (page 137)

  As wisdom traditions go, the heart of Christianity is not enlightenment, or unitive consciousness, or the ability to work miracles — any and all of these things can happen, and there have been mystics who have reported precisely these phenomena. But they are not the heart Christian mysticism. The heart of Christian mysticism is love. When Christians were moving out into the desert in the fourth century to live in solitude, St. Basil the Great asked a question to challenge them. “If you become hermits, whose feet shall you wash?”

  Chances are, you who read these words live in America or Australia or Western Europe (and even if you don’t live in those places, you are probably somewhat influenced by their culture). The culture of these lands tends to be highly individualistic — the mythology of the U.S., for example, lionizes solitary figures like Paul Bunyan and the Lone Ranger. “To thine own self be true” is our creed, and the unspoken coda to that dogma is “because no one else really matters.” Now, I do not fault the emergence of a healthy adult personality, which includes forming a unique sense of self and the ability to follow one’s own conscience even when it means going against the grain. Those are good values, so individualism certainly is not all bad! But for a spiritual tradition that places so much emphasis on love, community, and service, Christianity naturally challenges us to balance our individuality with a commitment to others — to family, to friends, to community, to colleagues, and yes, to people who share our faith.

  And I know I shifted from talking about “Christian mysticism” to simply talking about “Christianity.” That’s because the heart of Christian mysticism is, well, forming intimacy with Christ. And such intimacy implies following the Christian path — mystic or no.

  But… But… !

  But does this mean you have to join a church, for heaven’s sake?!?!

  I think I understand how many people — including many people with a genuine interest in the mystics — find church to be the last place they want to be, on Sunday or any other time during the week.

  There are many reasons for this. Many people have been hurt by churches. And not just in terms of extreme trauma (like clergy sexual abuse), although that does happen, to the church’s shame. But even beyond such outrageous harm, many people are hurt in much milder/smaller — but still painful or traumatizing — ways. People get shamed for a variety of reasons — from expressing their sexuality to questioning the pastor to showing an innocent interest in interfaith exploration. Sexism, racism, and homophobia often create climates in churches that can be unhealthy and even dangerous. Churches can be abusive in other ways — to learn more about this unhappy topic, read Healing Spiritual Wounds by Carol Howard Merritt.

  Some churches seem to be too political — which can be a problem no matter what “side” you are on. Other churches clearly cater to a specific “tribe” of people — from “country club” churches where everyone at least appears to be wealthy, to “blue collar” churches where everyone appears to be just getting by. Many churches are clearly “white” or “Black” in their makeup. While it might be spiritually adventurous to join a church where everyone is different from you, that can also be psychologically taxing. The only thing worse? A church where everyone is just like you!

  Finally, many people find that church is simply unfulfilling, or — dare I say it? — boring. Uninspired sermons, lackluster music, a culture that seems to stress conformity and nostalgia rather than truly grappling with the radical teachings of Christ (let alone the mystics). If that’s what being a Christian is all about, is it any wonder that so many people vote with their feet?

  And I haven’t even begun to address the fact that so many churches are devoid of people interested in the teachings and practices of the mystics!

  

  Putting the Pieces Together

  So how do we integrate Christianity (and Christian mysticism)’s commitment to love, and the importance of community, with the often problematic nature of too many churches that fall too short when it comes to truly embodying the teachings of Christ?

  First, I think we have to acknowledge that we live in an imperfect world, and this extends to everything — including church. If your only complaint with church is that it is unfulfilling or boring, may I gently suggest that perhaps your standards are too high? Perhaps you are seeing church as something that exists to serve your needs — but it isn’t. Churches are not spas. They are places where we have the opportunity to love others, and to serve God — by being in relationship with others.

  But what if you are a survivor of spiritual abuse? What if the only church in your town is filled with political extremism and a conformity culture that is just plain toxic? Here are a few thoughts. First of all, this is where the difference between community and church matters. I believe that Christians are called to be a part of community. I also believe that toxic or dysfunctional churches are not what Christian community is meant to be. Leaving a toxic church is like leaving an abusive marriage: it’s an act of courage, and I believe God blesses people who are willing to make that brave choice.

  Fortunately, healthy churches do exist, and there might be one closer to you than you think. A church that is committed to dismantling the evils of entrenched poverty, racism, sexism and homophobia. A church where the pastor just might quote the Dalai Lama in a Sunday sermon. A church where not everyone looks alike, but people seem happy, friendly, and welcoming. A church that is transparent about its finances. A church that has safeguards in measure to keep children and other vulnerable persons safe. A church that is as committed to prayer as it is to social justice — and vice versa. There may be other signs for you to look for, these are some of the signs I look for, to help me recognize that a church is healthy.

  Ultimately, it’s a place where I can say “yes” to questions like “Can I truly worship God here?” “Can I truly be of service here?” “Can I truly be myself here?”

  It’s worth it to try to find a healthy church. A healthy church is like a loving marriage and a creative, fun, challenging work environment — life is too short not to take the time to find (or foster) these qualities in our lives.

  But let’s say you simply cannot find a truly inspirational/healthy church. What then? Back to community. Fortunately, there are many ways to foster community in our lives. We can participate in online groups or forums dedicated to spirituality or mysticism. We can become active in neighborhood organizations or centers for community activism. And — especially in terms of your interest in Christian mysticism — we can find communities that share our interest in spirituality, such as Centering Prayer groups, monastic oblate communities, or even a book club dedicated to reading spiritual literature (hey, suggest one of my books!)

  So, back to the question: “Do I have to be a member of a church to be a Christian mystic?” In an absolute sense, strictly speaking, the answer is no, you don’t — especially if being involved in a church could be unsafe or (re)traumatizing. But remember St. Basil’s challenge: church may be optional, but community is essential. You need feet to wash: which is to say, you need a place where you can love and serve others. As imperfect as every church is, a basically healthy church can often provide that community for us. So don’t write church off too quickly. And if you can’t find a healthy church, look for an alternative type of community where you can grow spiritually and learn to love.

  A Final Thought

  I believe many people who are interested in Christian mysticism abandon church because, well, most churches are not particularly mysticism-friendly. Churches are often overly institutional, and many clergy are still the product of seminaries that are great at filling their heads with facts, but far less effective at teaching them how to pray, how to contemplate, how to be silent, and how to be present with the spiritual needs of others. This has changed in the last few decades, but there’s still a long way to go.

  Remember my comment about “no church is perfect”? A corollary to this, unfortunately, is “very few churches are friendly to mysticism (Christian or otherwise).” So if you join a church because it’s a place where you can serve, and love, others, keep in mind that you might still need to find your spiritual nurturance some other way. You might need to join (or start) a Centering Prayer group, or become a monastic oblate, or begin working with a spiritual director. Fortunately, resources do exist to help you grow deeper spiritually (check out the Community Resources section of this website for some ideas to explore). It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s a workable one: you participate in a church to serve, and then find other groups or relationships that bring you the spiritual nurture you need.

  

   

  March 2, 2021

  Church, community, Mysticism, questions

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• I’m Wondering About the Relationship Between Mysticism and the Church. Here’s Why.

  I often get asked if Christian mysticism needs the institutional church. Do you have to be a member of a church in order to be a Christian mystic? Or, to paraphrase a common way many people describe their spiritual lives: is it possible, in our day, to be “MBNR,” that is, “Mystical But Not Religious”?

  Almost ten years ago, on page 30 of The Big Book of Christian Mysticism, I wrote the following:

  Mysticism is often connected with religion. Here I am using religion to mean the various social and cultural ways in which people relate to each other’s common desire for contact with the Higher Mystery. This connection between mysticism and religion, however, exists alongside real differences and tensions. Certainly it is possible to be religious without exploring mysticism; and some expressions of mysticism do not require a religious setting. Since community is such an important element within Christianity, Christian mysticism is more overtly religious than other forms of mysticism. In fact, while mysticism in general is often connected with religion, I think the case can be made that genuine Christian mysticism is always religious (communal) in nature.

  Recently I directed a retreat on the wisdom of the Christian mystics at Holy Spirit Abbey in Conyers, GA. One of the retreatants was reading The Big Book of Christian Mysticism and he asked me to comment on this passage. As we talked about it, it became obvious that my definition of religion — meaning “spirituality expressed in community” — didn’t work for a lot of people.

  Why “Religion” Has Become a Trigger Word

  For so many people who are drawn to contemplative or mystical spirituality, “religion” and even “church” have become deeply problematic. Even “Christianity” and “Christian” often function like trigger words: they don’t inspire people to feel a sense of joy in connection with Divine Love, but rather call to mind institutional structures that foster judgmentalism, exclusivism, cliquishness, moralism, intolerance, and at its worst, fundamentalism and self-righteousness.

  And this isn’t just something conservative-minded people do: religious liberals can be just as judgmental toward those they disapprove of as religious conservatives are.

  Anyone who has seriously explored contemplative or mystical spirituality can immediately see the problem here. If mysticism is an expression of joyful, nondual intimacy with God, but religion points to our human tendency to create social institutions that judge and exclude rather than welcome and embrace… well, that leads to my question: is it possible to be mystical but not religious? Perhaps for some people, the best way to embrace a mystical life is actually to stay away from the institutional church?

  For most of my career as a writer on Christian mysticism, I have tended to be a staunch defender of the church, and have insisted that since mystics need community, the church is the place to find it. But this conversation last week at this retreat has given me some new food for thought.

  If the words “religious” and “religion” in the popular mind are too identified with the negative aspects of institutional faith — so much so that most people can no longer even find the more positive elements of communal spirituality in the church — then, I have to admit, perhaps the time has come for us to begin talking seriously about a post-religious Christian mysticism.

  I’m not sure what that looks like. Furthermore, I can imagine all sorts of problems that could follow the marriage of mysticism and post-religiosity.

  But I’m beginning to recognize that the problems of non-religious Christian mysticism are probably no worse than the problems that arise when we try to keep Christian mysticism tethered to an organization/institution that seems to be resolutely anti-mystical.

  For Some People, Church Might Be Necessary; For Others, Not So Much

  Let’s be clear: there are many people who find joy in integrating mystical spirituality with membership in a healthy church community. I’m one of them. So I can’t say that mystical Christianity shouldn’t have anything to do with institutional religion.

  But I am increasingly beginning to see that, for people who have been hurt by institutional religion, or who find that the cliquishness and judgmentalism of a church community is just too inimical to meaningful spiritual growth, then we have to talk about how to preserve the importance of community (which I still believe is necessary for healthy mysticism, even for people who have a vocation as hermits or solitaries) while liberating ourselves from the toxic limitations of institutional religion.

  And I would even argue that those of us who remain engaged with the local church (like I do), we still need to be thinking about how mysticism can be a call to a new kind of Christianity, that is not constrained by the limitations of the institution (even if we are part of it).

  This is a new frontier for me: a new topic to explore in prayer, reflection, and writing. I hope that my brothers and sisters who explore mystical Christianity, whether inside or outside of the traditional church institution, can engage in this conversation with me.

  If it’s possible to be “MBNR” — mystical but not religious — what does that look like? How do we protect ourselves from narcissism, ego-inflation, and other problems that can undermine independent spirituality? And how do we find real community in a post-institutional-religious world?

  I don’t have the answers, friends. I’m doing a lot of wondering here. I invite you to wonder with me.

  Recognizing just how toxic the word “religion” has become for many people, if I could revise The Big Book of Christian Mysticism today, I’d probably change the above paragraph to read something more like this:

  Mysticism often thrives best in a community. While there have always been hermits and solitaries who explore the mysteries in a radically alone way, many (if not most) of the great mystics in the world’s wisdom traditions have relied on communities to support their spiritual quest: they have lived in monasteries, convents, or other intentional communities; they have been apprentices to great masters or have in turn mentored their own students; they have embedded their practice of prayer and meditation in lives devoted to service and care for others, especially those in need. There are many social and cultural ways in which people relate to each other’s common desire for contact with the Higher Mystery. Even religious or academic institutions can support the mystical life, although institutions can also often be hostile to mysticism. As for specifically Christian mysticism, since Jesus mandated his followers love one another, love their neighbors, and even love their enemies, it seems that community is even more important to Christian mysticism than to other expressions of mysticism. In fact, I think the case can be made that genuine Christian mysticism is always communal in nature — even the hermits of the desert or in medieval Europe always found time to teach, counsel, or otherwise “wash the feet” of others who came to them for advice. Mysticism is about love: and love always requires relationships.

  Mysticism is about love, and love requires relationships, and relationships generally happen in community. So friends, let’s work together to envision what mystical community really means and how we can create it — together. With or without the institutional church.

  November 6, 2019

  Christian mysticism, Christian mysticism, Christianity, Church, institutional religion, mystical but not religious, Mysticism, religion, spiritual but not religious

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• Finding a Mystical or Contemplative-Friendly Neighborhood Church

  A reader named Connie wrote to me and asked the following question:

  Is there a mystic/al church? What would it look like? Does such a thing exist in your experience?

  It’s a great question. I imagine anyone who truly learns about the spirituality of Christian mysticism can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be part of a neighborhood church that took contemplation and mystical prayer seriously.

  I wish I could say all Christian churches are mystical. I personally believe all Christian churches should be mystical, and that they would be, if they took the Bible’s teachings on prayer, silence, and union with God seriously. But we live in an imperfect world. So as we all know, many Christian congregations have very little (or no) knowledge of contemplation at all, it is never mentioned in sermons are in classes, and sometimes churches are even hostile to this topic.

  I remember an evangelical friend telling me, when I was a youth, to stay away from mysticism. “It begins in mist, ends in schism, and has “I” rather than ‘God’ at the center!” That was the warning.

  Unfair? Of course. But it shows how many Christians are uncomfortable with the spirituality that is actually a part of our heritage.

  What Would a Contemplative Church Look Like?

  If you join or visit a Buddhist sangha (community), you will find that the heart of their community is practice — they don’t just talk about Buddhism, they live it. And the heart of their practice is meditation.

  In a similar way, I believe a truly mystical or contemplative church will emphasize practice as well — and the heart of Christian practice is prayer. Prayer in many forms: from “saying prayers” to chanting the psalms to fixed-hour prayer at different times during the day, to the kinds of practices typically associated with mysticism: meditation and contemplation.

  So, a truly contemplative church will emphasize prayer, meditation and contemplation. Depending on the church’s denominational affiliation, it might also emphasize other practices traditionally associated with contemplation, such as Centering Prayer, lectio divina (meditative scripture reading), working with a spiritual director, making retreats, studying the wisdom of the mystics, and putting the contemplative life “to work” by engaging in a social ministry such as feeding the homeless or supporting refugees.

  A truly contemplative, mystical church will still have plenty in common with other churches: including Sunday morning worship, study of scripture, small prayer groups, opportunities for fellowship and service, and making a commitment to stewardship as a spiritual practice. And because Christian spirituality at its best is inclusive rather than exclusive by nature, a truly mystical church would still be the kind of place where people who do not feel personally called to study or practice contemplative forms of prayer would still feel welcome and at home.

  Some Churches Are More Mystical Than Others

  There are certainly individual churches here and there where the clergy and/or the church leadership, are very open to contemplation and mysticism. I know of several off the top of my head: Grace Episcopal Church in Gainesville, GA; St. Gregory’s Episcopal Church in Woodstock, NY; Queen of Peace Catholic Church in Gainesville, FL; Haw Creek Commons in Asheville, NC; The Portico in Tampa, FL; and the Church of Conscious Harmony in Austin, TX. Certainly there are others. But what is true of all these communities is that they serve a variety of people, so not every member of all these churches thinks of themselves as “mystics” or even as contemplatives.

  Contemplatives, it seems have to learn how to live in a world where only a few people seem to be called (or accept the call) to live a truly contemplative life.

  But if truly contemplative-friendly churches are still in the minority, how can you find a church that is open to nurturing the mystical life? Here are a few thoughts.

  1. Check out the Quakers. Quakerism has given us a long lineage of Christian contemplatives, from George Fox to John Woolman to Rufus Jones to, in our time, Parker J. Palmer and Richard Foster. Because Quakerism stresses silent prayer, meditation, and learning to listen to the leading of the Spirit within, it is perhaps the most “mystical-friendly” of all the Christian denominations.
  2. Look for churches that host Centering Prayer or Christian Meditation Groups. Sometimes even if the congregation as a whole is oblivious to mysticism, you can find people committed to the contemplative life by joining a local group dedicated to a practice like Centering Prayer of the World Community of Christian Meditation (WCCM) method of Christian Meditation. Visit the Contemplative Outreach or WCCM websites to see if there is contact information for a group near you.
  3. In the Catholic world, parishes that are served by Jesuit priests, Franciscans, Carmelites or some of the other religious orders can sometimes be very contemplative-friendly. Not always! It really varies from church to church. But it’s worth looking into.

  Finally, I think what many people who are drawn to contemplation and mysticism do: find a Centering Prayer or similar group, and/or become affiliated with a monastery or retreat center where you can meet like-minded people, who are interested in contemplative practice and learning the wisdom of the mystics. On a more personal level, many people cultivate their desire for contemplative support by working with a spiritual director or guide. In fact, I would argue that anyone who is serious about daily prayer ought to have a spiritual guide anyways! If you are interested in learning more about one-on-one spiritual guidance, visit the website for Spiritual Director’s International.

  You Can Make a Difference

  But what if you just don’t have any luck finding a contemplative church, you don’t live anywhere near a monastery or retreat center, and even finding a spiritual director or centering prayer group seems to be impossible?

  In this scenario, I would encourage you to pray about whether or not you could start your own group, either at your neighborhood church or even in your own home.

  There are some interesting resources for people who want to start or develop a contemplative church. I wrote a blog post called Nine Ways to Foster a Contemplative Church — perhaps you could share that with your pastor or other elders in your congregation, or invite a group of like-minded persons to read this with you and pray over it to see how God might be leading your church to become more contemplative. For a more in-depth resource, consider reading Contemplative Church: How Meditative Prayer and Monastic Practices Help Congregations Flourish by Peter Traben Haas. It’s a book that makes the case for why it is a good idea for the neighborhood church to become more contemplative. Once again, consider sharing it with your pastor and/or starting a group to read it together. And then see where the Spirit leads you.

  You could also contact WCCM or Contemplative Outreach to see about starting a contemplative prayer group in your church.

  Good luck! I hope everyone who would love to be part of a contemplative or mystical church will have the opportunity to do so: either by joining an existing congregation that is mystical-friendly or else helping to start such a community in your neighborhood.

   

   

  July 10, 2019

  Church, Congregation, Contemplation, Guidance, local church, Mysticism, practice, Via Mystica

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• Do Contemplatives Need the Church?

  A post on this blog received the following comment yesterday:

  Having been with the Catholic Church and seminary trained for all my 71 years of life. I am naturally contemplative . But I do now believe practising formal meditation/contemplation is false . Aren’t we missing the point if we try and set time aside for contemplation?
  Surely if we are made in Gods image we are already suffused with Gods holy grace and we are divinised, so if we are living in Christ what’s the point in pretending to get closer to God when He’s already there? The very air we breathe is holy .
  A religionless Christianity is for me. There is now no need for a Church, priests, bible, sacraments, prayer.
  My parish is the world wherever I am.

  This has given me much food for thought. I promised the person who made this comment I would reply in a new blog post. So here goes. I’m writing this as a direct response to the author of the comment; hopefully it will be of interest to others as well.

  ---

  Thank you for your comment. It’s wonderful that you have given your life to contemplative spirituality, to the point now where “the world is your parish” and you don’t even see a distinction between a prayer practice and living a prayerful life.

  Indeed, the very air we breathe is holy!

  So is the ground we walk on, the bodies we inhabit, the relationships that shape and form us every day. We are “all walking around shining like the sun,” as Merton put it. Most of us go through lives never realizing this, what a grace that you have a caught at least a glimpse of glory.

  Saint Paul mandates that we “pray without ceasing” and I suspect that this means to do something similar to what Brother Lawrence calls “the practice of the presence of God” — which is to say, to reach a point of non-dual beholding where we find God in all things and all things in God.

  “For the fullness of joy is to behold God in all,” as Julian of Norwich put it. Only you can say if you’ve actually reached this point, but your comment makes it sound as if you have.

  I suspect that for many people, discovering the grace of “beholding God in all” includes a recognition that truly God is everywhere — not just in Church.

  On a street corner in Louisville, one day Thomas Merton suddenly fell in love with everyone he saw. He realized there was greater dignity in being human than in being a monk. It was a major turning point in his life, with a rich lesson for us all.

  Can We Dispense with Daily Practice (or the Church)?

  When it comes to both the importance of a daily practice, or involvement in a faith community, I have a different perspective than you do.

  I believe reaching the point of non-dual contemplation or “beholding God in all” renders Church and practice more necessary than ever. I’d like to share with you why I think so.

  Let’s talk about daily practice first. You say:

  I do now believe practising formal meditation/contemplation is false. Aren’t we missing the point if we try and set time aside for contemplation?

  You give contemplative practice a label: “false.” Immediately I wonder if trying to put contemplative, or silent, prayer into words — calling it “true” or “false,” “meaningful” or “boring,” isn’t somehow missing the point.

  That’s because the point of contemplative practice is silence. Not what we think or say about silence (or, for that matter, about the practice).

  The point behind a contemplative practice (whether it’s liturgical prayer like the Daily Office, or a meditative exercise like centering prayer) is to dispose ourselves to silence: to a place beyond concepts like “meaningful” or “boring” or “joyful” or “false.”

  We enter into intentional silence to remind ourselves to pay attention to the silence that is always, already there.

  To me, the best analogy for a contemplative practice is physical exercise.

  I personally don’t find a lot of joy in going to workout. I was never a jock and at age 55 I doubt if I’ll become one now! But I still try to faithfully show up at my fitness center several times a week to break a sweat.

  Why? Because when I work out, I feel better the other 23 hours a day. And I know if I don’t work out, I start to lose energy, to lose muscle tone.

  I believe that health is a gift from God. But if we don’t dispose ourselves to be healthy (through exercise, proper diet, enough sleep, and managing stress), then we are at risk of losing that gift.

  The same goes with contemplative silence. It is a free gift from God, we can’t do anything to earn it.

  In your words, “we are made in God’s image” and “we are already suffused with God’s holy grace… we are divinised.” Yes, absolutely! But are we mindful of this truth?

  I believe the daily practice is essential for disposing myself to that mindfulness.

  Perhaps you do not need a daily practice to maintain that level of mindfulness, of awareness, of practicing-the-presence. But I need it! For me, abandoning my daily contemplative practice would be like no longer exercising.

  Maybe at first my health would stay strong. But if I stop working out, sooner or later, I’ll notice the loss.

  If we are living in Christ what’s the point in pretending to get closer to God when He’s already there?

  Well, yes, we are living in Christ. There’s no point in “pretending to get closer to God” — but if that’s your experience of contemplative practice, may I gently suggest that you might find it more satisfying if you think about it differently?

  Contemplative practice is not about pretending anything. It’s about authenticity, about being who we truly are.

  We need to let go of the internal commentary that says “this is a waste of time, this is just pretending, this is boring, you don’t need  this, yada yada yada.” That’s what Buddhists call “the monkey mind.” Don’t try to argue with it, just gently let it go.

  The point behind contemplative practice is to rest in silence. Whenever we think about it, or try to interpret it, we’re not doing it.

  We don’t do this “to get closer to God.” That’s impossible, for already in God “we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). We make a practice of resting in silence to remember — to cultivate mindfulness, to exercise the gift that has already been given.

  Sure, no one needs to practice contemplative prayer. Just like no one needs to go to the fitness center. But people keep going because realize that the workout is worth the blessings that flow from it. The same principle is at work in contemplative practice.

  The Church and the Contemplative

  The final words of your comment:

  A religionless Christianity is for me. There is now no need for a Church, priests, bible, sacraments, prayer.
  My parish is the world wherever I am.

  To push my metaphor further: if contemplative practice is like a workout, then the Church is like the fitness center.

  Some people can stay physically fit without membership in a fitness center. But that requires tremendous willpower, commitment, and resolve. For most of us mere mortals, joining (and using) a fitness center is essential for staying physically fit.

  I think the same can be said of Church participation and “spiritual fitness.”

  

  Now, I do believe that a small percentage of Christians are called to the vocation of hermit. If that is you, then of course I wish you well and much grace as you live into the calling you have received.

  But even hermits need other people, just like a pilot needs a ground crew: the mechanic, the air traffic controller, the meteorologist, and so forth.

  I think it’s important to remember that “Church” is just a fancy word for “community.” To say “I have no need for Church” is tantamount to saying “I have no need for other people.”

  Now, I know that many people have had terrible experiences with their local church. People have been abused, exploited, oppressed by individuals and by the institution as a whole. The Church is made up of sinners, after all.

  But when something is broken, you fix it. Human beings need community. If our communities are broken, the solution is to build better communities, not to give up on community altogether.

  So I’m afraid I must disagree when you say “there is no need” for the Church, etc. That’s like saying “I’m physically fit. I no longer need the gym, or a trainer, or weights, or the treadmill.”

  If you’re that good, then why don’t you help out some folks who aren’t as far along as you?

  Which brings me to, what I suppose, is the main point of this long post. Maybe after years of contemplative living, you’ve decided you no longer need the Church (I disagree with you, but you’re entitled to your opinion).

  But doesn’t the Church need you?

  Again and again I get emails from Christians who struggle because their hearts have opened up to contemplative spirituality, and yet their Churches aren’t there yet. I feel their pain, because I’ve been there too.

  I hear from clergy persons — priests and ministers — who feel this way. I also hear from laypeople in the same boat.

  I believe the Christian Church (not just Catholicism, but all the denominations) is in the midst of a spiritual revolution, as the Holy Spirit calls more and more people to embrace contemplative prayer and practice.

  But we’re at the cutting edge, friends. Many Christians still haven’t received the memo.

  The Church needs contemplatives. The Church needs us to be contemplatives in the Church — even if all the other members of the Church don’t realize it yet.

  I’m not saying we all need to go and start centering prayer groups, or teach a class on mysticism, or whatever. In many places, the last thing that is needed is another “program.”

  In some places, though, that might be important. We all need to discern where we are called.

  But I think in many Churches, we simply need to be present. We need to share with the clergy and other Church leaders that we are called to pray in silence. And then we need to do it. We need to be a contemplative presence in the Church.

  Sometimes this might mean starting a program, or teaching a class. Or it might mean a ministry of spiritual companionship. Or it could just mean a daily ministry of intercessory silent prayer.

  Every contemplative will have a unique calling. But I believe with all my heart that a central part of following Christ is washing one another’s feet.

  And the Church is where we do that.

  A Final Word

  To my friend who left the comment: I do not mean to preach to you, and I have no interest in saying you are right or wrong. I trust you to follow God as best you can.

  But I hope you can at least see, in this post, that there are some positive things to say about maintaining a committed daily prayer practice, and about being part of a faith community.

  Commitment and community. They’re beautiful. Certainly not perfect. But necessary anyway.

  ---

  Do you have a question about silent prayer, contemplative living, or Christian mysticism? If so, please leave it in a comment below — and I might choose it to feature in a future blog post. Thanks for reading!

   

  March 16, 2016

  Church, commitment, community, Contemplation, Discipline, practice, Prayer

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• How to Find a Contemplative-Friendly Church

  Spirituality is all about love, and love only exists in relationship. Therefore, spirituality is healthiest when it is expressed in a communal way. For better or worse, this means — at least for followers of Jesus Christ and the Christian contemplative/mystical path — finding some sort of church or other faith community.

  That’s not always easy. Frankly, many churches are indifferent, or even hostile, to Christian contemplation and mysticism. Many Protestant and Evangelical Christians reject mysticism and contemplation as “too Catholic.” And Christians across the spectrum, Catholic or Protestant, sometimes worry that mysticism and contemplation have more to do with non-Christian spirituality (like Buddhism or Vedanta) than with following Christ.

  These ideas are misconceptions, but they exist, and that means sometimes churches can be decidedly unfriendly to contemplative seekers and aspiring mystics. So how does one find a nurturing and healthy church home?

  

  A reader of this blog named Dan wrote a question along this line:

  I read The Big Book of Christian Mysticism. I’m trying to start a journey in the direction of a greater spirituality. I’ve been out of the faith community for many many years. One of the tenets of your book is to join/rejoin the community of believers. There are so many churches in my town that I’m not sure where to begin. Do you know any churches that may be incorporating the principles of your book or anyone I may be able to contact to help in my search?

  This is a problem centuries in the making…

  As I said above, many churches will either be indifferent, or even hostile, to contemplation and mysticism. Fortunately, though, this situation is changing for the better, as more and more seminaries (where pastors are trained) begin to offer better spiritual formation for their students, and more individual Christians take it upon themselves to embraces the riches of the Christian inner life.

  Much of Christianity is still in a kind of spiritual drought that historians think goes back to at least the fifteenth century, if not earlier. For a variety of historical, philosophical and theological reasons, Christianity (especially in the west) lost much of its own contemplative and mystical heritage — a heritage that for centuries had been confined primarily to monasteries, but as many monasteries became decadent or corrupt in the late middle ages, followed by the reformation which tried to do away with monasticism altogether, the precious jewel of mystical spirituality was almost entirely lost within Christianity.

  Within the last 100 years or so, that’s been slowly changing. Thanks to pioneering scholars like Evelyn Underhill and  Thomas Merton (who were mystics in their own right), western Christianity has begun to recognize and reclaim its lost contemplative heritage. And while it makes some Christians nervous, Christianity’s encounter with eastern religions like Buddhism has had the blessed effect of encouraging many Christians to dig deep within our own history to find our own wisdom tradition, steeped in silence, contemplation, and illuminative insight.

  Now, to answer the question…

  But back to Dan’s very practical, down-to-earth question: how does an ordinary person find a church where you can talk about these kinds of things without somebody looking at you like  you’ve sprouted an extra head?

  When I joined the Catholic Church in 2005, our pastor at the time had a large painting of Thomas Merton hanging in  his office. This was a very good sign — when I brought up that I was a fan of Merton, we discussed his work enthusiastically.

  So my first piece of advice is this: look for a church where at least one of the ministers or church leaders is willing to talk about contemplation and mysticism without attacking it. This means you have to be willing to chat up at least one of the pastors, and if you’re an introvert like me, that’s not always easy to do! But most pastors are friendly if not gregarious people, and gauging their interest is a good way to sense if the church as a whole is a friendly place for interior seekers.

  One question to ask a minister is to see if he or she, or someone else in the congregation, has a ministry of spiritual direction. Most spiritual directors are themselves committed to contemplative living, and can help others who seek to walk along the mystical path.

  However, even a pastor who is interested in contemplation does not mean the church as a whole is. When I shared with my pastor my interest in mysticism, he shook his head sadly. “Carl, we have over 1200 families in this church,” he said, “and I can count on one hand the number of people who even know about mysticism, let alone are interested in it.”

  So my second piece of advice: look for a church that has either a centering prayer group or some other form of regular (weekly) offering for personal spiritual growth. You can contact contemplative organizations like Contemplative Outreach, Shalem, or the World Community for Christian Meditation to see if they can refer you to a church in your neighborhood with an active contemplative program.

  My next advice is pragmatic. Don’t expect a church — any church — to “meet all your needs.” Churches are not social clubs. We join them not because they make us happy all the time, but because they are communities where we can deepen our relationship with God and learn to grow in grace. I’m not suggesting that we should be “martyrs” who join churches where we are perpetually miserable! Obviously, we need to feel comfortable and at home in our faith community — for example, if you are a strong environmentalist, you will likely feel uncomfortable in a church where members think recycling is a waste of time.

  Churches, even within the same denomination, often have their own unique character: some are conservative, some liberal, some boisterous and extraverted, others quiet and introverted. Find a church with a “personality” that resonates with your own — but don’t expect the church to be perfect. And even a church that is 99{b583bb596bb2c84984aee1f32e70a80b80285001a0226212b58cbda01f2115e7} wonderful might let you down when it comes to contemplation and mysticism.

  So what to do then? My advice: join that “good enough” church, and then seek your spiritual nurture elsewhere, such as at a monastery, a Jesuit center, or some other setting that exists specifically to help people grow spiritually. Many monasteries and convents have lay or oblate programs where non-monastic people can formally study spirituality with the monks or nuns. Some seminaries offer programs for spiritual growth, and retreats designed to help you grow spiritually are offered by retreat centers in every state. Googling “Christian contemplative programming” or “Christian contemplative retreats” could be a way to start.

  

  You may be wondering “If I have to go elsewhere to get spiritual nurture, why bother joining a church at all?” But that goes back to my conviction that we join a church not to get our needs met, but rather to learn to love God and others better. A church is about the whole person, not just our spiritual dimension. In church we learn to worship, how to read the Bible, how to make informed moral and ethical choices, how to appreciate good music or art or architecture, and how to serve and care for others, especially those who are in need.

  Having a deep interior life supports all of these things, but it doesn’t replace them. A spiritual center like a monastery or a retreat house can really help you to become disciplined in contemplative prayer, but it doesn’t have the resources to do all the other good things that your neighborhood church does. So find a monastery where you can pray, but also find a church where you can serve.

  To sum it up…

  I’m sorry this is such a long post, but it’s an important question that deserves careful consideration. Finding the right church is like finding the right house or neighborhood: it’s worth taking the time to do the search right. If you’re new to a community or are returning to church after a time away, take your time to visit a variety of congregations: small and large, Catholic or Episcopal or Quaker, liberal or conservative or middle of the road, traditional music with an organ or contemporary music with a rock band.

  Get to know the diversity of Christian communities — and when you find a church you like, then get to know the pastor, see what kind of ministries the church offers, and also seek spiritual resources outside the congregation. Finally, pray for guidance — God wants what’s best for you, so take time to listen for the still small voice.

  Do you have any other suggestions for how someone interested in Christian mysticism or contemplation can find a church? Please leave a comment below, or on your favorite social media platform.

  Do you have a question for me? Please send it to me using my contact form, and I’ll consider it for a future blog post. Thank you.

   

   

  December 16, 2015

  Church, community, Contemplation, discernment, Mysticism

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• Seven Hopes for the Christian (and Church) of the Future

  In his 1981 book Concern for the Church, Jesuit theologian Karl Rahner made his famous prediction, “the Christian of the future will be a mystic or he will not exist at all.”

  A third of a century later, has Rahner’s prediction come to pass? The “not exist at all” part seems ominously real, as more and more congregations face declining membership, a shortage of priests, nuns, monks and volunteers, and difficulty raising enough money to pay for clergy salaries or building maintenance. But I think Rahner was trying to challenge followers of Jesus Christ to think outside the ecclesiastical box and envision new ways of spiritual living and faithful discipleship to re-shape our identity as Christians, both as individuals and as a Church.

  With this in mind, I’d like to offer seven hopes that I have for the Christian — and Church — of the future. (more…)

  February 11, 2015

  Activism, Christianity, Church, Featured, forgiveness, future, mercy, ministry, Mysticism, Prayer

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