Just a short few years ago, if I had told my non-Christian friends that I had just embarked on a three-day silent retreat in the middle of the Kent countryside, I’m not sure how they would have responded.
Probably their replies might have been characterised by a mixture of polite nods and more honest members of the group saying, “that sounds a little weird”, “boring” or “a bit too religious for me” … “but I’m glad you enjoyed it”. However, earlier this year after returning from staying with a small community of benedictine nuns, with no phone signal, basic accommodation, and the reciting of prayer from the Divine Office the only thing to keep me entertained, the response from my friends was overwhelmingly positive: “that sounds so peaceful”, “so glad you spent time away from your phone and other distractions” and “I would love to do something like that”.
From retreat, silence and solitude to fasting, journaling and prayer – the spiritual disciplines or practices have formed the way Christians have embodied their faith throughout the history of the church. Wherever Christians live, spiritual practices occur. This makes spiritual practices incredibly important for us today. But the reaction from my friends got me thinking — are many of these ancient practices increasingly making sense to parts of secular culture today? Are spiritual practices now seen as a little bit cool?
The habits without a King
In a culture that is distracted, fragmented, and hurried, many – particularly in younger generations – are increasingly drawn to hobbies and habits that find resonance with the spiritual practices. Meditation, digital detoxing, days of intentional rest and practicing gratitude are all on the rise. As a student pastor for a local church, I rarely have to ask the students if they journal (their typical five-pages a day often puts my own more minimal efforts to shame!).
While it’s encouraging to see people drawn to healthy habits and rhythms, it is also an indication of the increasing awareness of mental fragility. Alongside the heart-breaking prevalence of mental health issues, the rising popularity of wellness runs in parallel. The promise of an antidote to anxiety via the gospel of self-care is being pumped to the ‘anxious generation’. The route to flourishing is knowing, loving and prioritising oneself. And practices that give the illusion of some kind of spirituality — mediation, journaling or rest days – all enable this.
And here is the crux of the matter — culture’s interest in the spiritual practices (or practices that might appear spiritual) have removed the person these practices are supposed to point us to. We want the habits, but not the King. We want to be well, without a saviour. We want peace, without the Shepherd’s care. And even as followers of Jesus, if we are honest with ourselves, how often are our moments of discipleship still focused on ourselves or our needs? How often do we journal, meditate on or pray into the things we want, rather than first reflecting on who God is in the midst of that?
We want the habits, but not the King. We want to be well, without a saviour. We want peace, without the Shepherd’s care.
A ‘curriculum of Christ-likeness’
When Jesus asks ‘come, follow me’, there is an invitation to a way of life that lays the self down. Not to discard, mistreat nor idolise ourselves, but looking instead to Him to be restored and renewed. The ancient spiritual practices are transformative when they journey beyond one’s own personal wellbeing and are instead directed towards formation into the character and likeness of Jesus.
For this reason, the spiritual practices are just as important to followers of Jesus now as they were to the early church. We need what Dallas Willard called a “curriculum for Christlikeness” – a clear path to being formed by Jesus in the modern era, rather than being counter-formed by a culture that skims near the surface. There is a missional opportunity to share the wonder of a life marked by the spiritual practices with our friends who might be curious about finding peace, wellness and rhythm. However, the key is to take the conversation beyond personal peace, and into one that surpasses all understanding. To follow the invitation found in Psalm 46: be still and know that I am God.
Emma chats more about the spiritual practices, particularly her experience with solitude and silence as part of the latest episode of the Being Human podcast. Listen along here.
The ancient spiritual practices are transformative when they journey beyond one’s own personal wellbeing and are instead directed towards formation into the character and likeness of Jesus.