Spirituality can transform individuals for the greater good. Some ways to start.
A desire to transcend the petty concerns and daily heartaches of this world undergirds much of our pursuit of religion and spirituality.
Given our varying traditions, we may describe this quest in different terms. Buddhists and Hindus talk about seeking enlightenment or awakening. Christians refer to getting born again, sanctified or baptized in the Holy Spirit.
But the goals are similar, I think: We long to release carnal burdens that weigh us down and to better understand ourselves, others and the divine. We want illumination. We want inner peace. We want meaning.
Not everyone thinks such a quest is worthwhile. There are those who regard it as flaky. I remember a skeptical Baptist preacher who groused about church members who’d gotten “so heavenly minded they’re no earthly good.”
There’s truth to that, yet not as much as my friend imagined. It’s been my observation that the opposite is likelier. People often accomplish a great deal that’s of earthly benefit after becoming more heavenly minded.
As spiritual seekers travel toward their awakening, their vision is enlarged. They slowly surrender their narcissism, insecurities and festering psychic wounds. They become less self-centered and, paradoxically, more self-aware. They work for the common good.
True, these traits aren’t universal among the religious, for crying out loud. Jesus showed us that with his disdain for the hyper-religious Pharisees. Way back then, he saw in them what we see now: a lot of religious people remain spiteful, intolerant jerks.
What I’m talking about, though, are the comparative few who, in Jesus’ words, find the narrow road. They possess a humble longing to know the creator intimately and to become purer conduits of love and mercy.
So, how do we go about getting transformed in such a beneficial way?
I don’t have all the answers, nor have I achieved perfection, enlightenment or nirvana. But here are a few thoughts about how spiritual transformation occurs:
▪ By intention and consistent practice. For many seekers, if not most, awakenings occur gradually, in small increments. The door slowly but reliably opens to those who keep on knocking, as it were.
Smart pilgrims undertake programs of systematic reading, Bible study or, in some traditions, meditation. They find competent spiritual mentors to advise them. Their desire for enlightenment is important enough that they’re willing put aside old interests and unproductive habits. They’re willing to pay a price.
▪ With perseverance. To cite a biblical maxim, it’s the one who perseveres to the end who finds deliverance.
Not to be trivial, I hope, but growing spiritually is comparable to dieting. Anybody can go on a gimmicky weight-loss program and drop 20 pounds. Happens every day. Very few people, however, drop 20, 50 or 100 pounds and then keep them off long-term. Doing that requires relentless self-discipline, an unwavering commitment.
Similarly, enlightenment tends to favor those who stay faithful. They keep seeking year after year, decade after decade.
▪ Through surrender. Paradoxically (the spiritual kingdom is constructed of paradoxes), sometimes years of struggle and study can bring pilgrims to a dreary plateau where they no longer feel they’re making any upward progress. They’re convinced they’ve become spiritual failures.
Often, throwing up their hands in frustration and surrendering turns out to be exactly the right thing. It’s as if the moment they stop relying on their own weary efforts and surrender to a power greater than themselves, that greater power takes over. They discover unprecedented insight and energy. They begin to move upward again.
▪ By grace. As a Christian, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the story of Saul of Tarsus, a violent persecutor of the early church.
While traveling to Damascus to imprison converts of this upstart—and to Saul’s mind, heretical—new faith, Saul was struck down by a great light and a voice from heaven. His worldview was transformed instantly, and with it much of subsequent history. Saul the persecutor became St. Paul the apostle and New Testament author.
Even today, you’ll encounter people who tell stories of having experienced their own Damascus Road conversion, a revelation that came unsought, yet reversed the course of their life. Sometimes God just does what only God can do, with no previous intention or effort from us.
▪ Through life’s ups and downs. If we’re mindful, life itself can be a wonderful instructor. We mortals encounter the transcendent through those things we suffer—the loss of a job, the death of a family member, the splitting of a church. We also find revelation through our joys—the birth of a child, an unexpected triumph at work, the caress of a spouse.
The ineffable is present in every moment, in triumphs and failures alike, in pleasures and pains. We should look for it always, and grant it the wonder it deserves.
Paul Prather is pastor of Bethesda Church near Mount Sterling. You can email him at pratpd@yahoo.com.