Building a Universalized Theory for Spiritual Disciplines: Beyond Denomination,Personality,and Socio-Historical Experience

Introduction

Considerations of the exact role of spiritual disciplines (also called “formations,” “practices,” or “rhythms”) in the lifestyle of a Christ follower has fluctuated enough throughout history that consensus on their purpose is often left somewhat vague. ¹ When researching the historic global traditions of Christianity, one will see with great frequency the stark variations and evolutions of spiritual disciplines throughout its branches, epochs, and the perpetually updating trends of their cultural contexts. ² These variations, though demonstrably helpful in my opinion, have incited confusion and skepticism in some circles about the validity of certain disciplines unfamiliar to their context, personality, or experience. ³ Perhaps this is heightened in the West due to our historical dislocation and hyper-individualism – which bring both a low value for history and a high value for personal conceptions of orthodoxy – but many contemporaries devalue or even dub blasphemous spiritual practices that fall outside the norm or specific paradigm supplied by their denomination of comfort. For example, some Pentecostals assert liturgical prayer heresy; some monastics consider social-political engagement sin; some Lutherans might declare fixed-hour prayer an affront to God’s grace; still others find yoga to be unilaterally demonic. ⁴ To make matters more confusing, some scholars raise questions to the validity of spiritual disciplines in general, and still others who have raised questions toward their effectiveness. ⁵

The vagueness of necessity for spiritual practices, though helpful in terms of mitigating legalism, does unfortunately perpetuate cross-denominational schisms that yield estrangement to alternate paradigms. These schisms serve to alienate denominations from each other, perpetuating a foreignness of distinct forms of engaging in worship; even further, this alienation comes at the expense of sheltering individuals from spiritual practices that may aid both their communion with the Triune God and spiritual formation. My assumption is that there is a tendency toward uncomfortability with disciplines that do not align with personality or experientially validated visions of ecclesial orthopraxy. Yet, thanks to research within the realm of human personality, the deep well of history, and cross-denominational inferences we may be able to understand our varying engagements with spiritual disciplines in consideration of how specific practices spawn unique responses to oscillating personality traits, ecclesial contexts, and historical locations. ⁶

My thesis contends that crafting a universal approach toward spiritual disciplines will engender an orthopraxical theory that accounts for variations of personality, experience, and denominational schisms. This theory aims to deconstruct skepticism over unfamiliar spiritual practices, which could hopefully pave an easily discernible methodology for engaging with disciplines that extend beyond denominational, generational, and psycho-social lines. This will ideally encourage both individuals and communities to confidently take whichever pathways lead them into the transforming presence of the Triune God.

To begin, we will discuss spirituality and the nature of spiritual disciplines themselves. After establishing this axiom, we will move the conversation into deconstructing beliefs that distort the appeal of certain spiritual practices and deplete their participatory likelihood. Each of these avenues – which will include theological presentism, semantic confusion, cultural updating, sacred-secular dualism, personality variations, denominational jingoism, learning styles, and comfort preferences – will be approached with a theological critical theory, ⁷ with the intent of reforming popular assumptions about spiritual practices. Finally, we will weave together all of these inferences into drafting a theory of universalized engagement with spiritual disciplines.

Brief Introduction to Spiritual Disciplines

Though mainline denominations of the Christian faith are not necessarily booming, there is a resurgence of interest in vague, almost deistic, strains of spirituality. ⁸ This is seen in the rise of “belief in God” – though the “God” referred to often remains nameless and undefined – as well as the still prevalent “spiritual, not religious” identity markers. ⁹ This begs the question as to what exactly we mean by “spirituality.” The editors of the Dictionary of Christian Spirituality write, “Spirituality is about connecting with the transcendent and being changed by it.” ¹⁰ However, Christian spirituality, as distinct, is about “experiencing the presence…of God” in the here-and-now, “living all of life before God,” and includes things like “repentance, moral renewal, soul crafting, community building, witness, service, and faithfulness to one’s calling.” ¹¹ If spirituality, in the general sense, is the umbrella innate to embodied humans, the overarching component animating immaterial purpose, then the spiritual disciplines might be, broadly speaking, the substrates we use to engage with spirituality. ¹²

But strangely enough, engaging with spiritual disciplines does not seem to falter according to whichever framework – Christian, secular, Gnostic, and so on – our spirituality inhabits. This is perhaps an oddity of the human experience – that one can enjoy spiritual disciplines regardless of their relationship to the Trinitarian God. Pew Research finds that secular people pray just as often as Christians, presumably due to the sense of comfort the act supplies; ¹³ the Minimalist movement is based on the Christian practice of simplicity and yet many of its practitioners are secular; ¹⁴ there are even advocates of an “immanent frame” ¹⁵ worldview who also advocate for rhythmic fasting for the ancillary benefits. ¹⁶ Being outside of Christ does not seem to sate the interest in disciplines.

This begs the question of what exactly a spiritual discipline is. Brilliantly, the Bible never gives us any substantial mechanics to go off, ¹⁷ and mentions of spiritual disciplines or practices throughout the canon are largely void of direct explanation as to why they are being practiced, and possibly even what significance they draw. ¹⁸ But disciplines, though elusive in definition, are not difficult to discern. Put simply, disciplines are temporal acts that put our soul (the conflation of our heart, mind, body, and will) ¹⁹ in position to be transformed by God. ²⁰ The acts themselves are not what supply transformation ²¹ – though, as mentioned above, they provide ancillary benefits – but rather our obedience in grounding ourselves in attentive intention toward God puts our soul in location to receive the Spirit’s transformation. ²² We pursue transformation for the sake of becoming more like Jesus, ²³ and the disciplines are like the weight machines of a gymnasium that stretch our muscles past their limits in order that stronger ligaments form in their place. ²⁴ If spiritual disciplines are simply the embodied ways in which we connect with and receive transformation from the Triune God, then it stands to reason that any such disciplines that give way to these results may be considered a viable route for spiritual formation.

Further, Adele Ahlberg Calhoun offers the fascinating insight that spiritual disciplines are composed of three parts: (1) practice, (2) relationship, and (3) experience. ²⁵ She uses Acts 2:42 to build her point: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching” is an example of practice; “…and to the fellowship” is the point of relationship; “…to the breaking of bread” is the experience; finally, the verse ends with “and to prayer,” which is another practice. ²⁶ Calhoun’s inclusion of the relational component helps illuminate that disciplines are usually done with or for the sake of others, and even disciplines done in isolation, such as solitude or secrecy, invite us into the perichoretic relationality of the Trinity. ²⁷

It should be noted that there exists no exhaustive list of spiritual disciplines. They may be actions as focused and regimented as fixed-hour meditation and as loose and disordered as dance. In this regard, the work of Adrian van Kaam is quite illuminating. ²⁸ In his, albeit very complicated, paradigms of spiritual formation, he offers the helpful concepts of “form reception” and “form donation.” ²⁹ Form reception is the way humans are formed by what they receive, consume, or ingest, such as receiving verbal blessing or encouragement from others or bingeing pornography. Both aforementioned activities form – while the expression “garbage in, garbage out” might best describe the latter, we might suggest “blessing in, blessing out” constitutes the former. ³⁰ Form donation, conversely, is how we are formed by the things we do, such as engaging in singing with our community or cheating on our diets. Both of these actions form us in one way or another. While declaring that all actions either yield a static “bad” or “good” result is too reductionistic and dualistic of a spectrum, it should be understood that we are nonetheless formed by all actions – typically to a correlative degree of intensity. Formation is always in flux. In this framework, which I would firmly attest to be backed up by Biblical theology, ³¹ psychology, ³² and neuroplasticity, ³³ it can be inferred that human persons are in the constant process of formation, and that no act technically falls outside the realm of formation. Therefore, it is my belief that spiritual disciplines are surprisingly fluid, and that an exhaustive list of these actions would be essentially impossible to draft.

Closely related to this concept is what Pierre Bourdieu calls “pedagogies of insignificance” – little rhythms and minor nudges that, over time, prime us into changing the way we inhabit space time. ³⁴ James K.A. Smith comments on this pedagogues of insignificance: “what appear to be 'micropractices' have macro effects: what might appear to be inconsequential microhabits are, in fact, disciplinary formations that begin to reconfigure our relation to the wider world-indeed, they begin to make that world.” ³⁵

Finally, it should be noted that though disciplines are not exactly synonymous with “worship,” they are closely related – and disciplines undertaken for the sake of devotion will ultimately be acts of worship by default. ³⁶ However, no matter what schematics we use to chart out the science of spiritual disciplines, there will necessarily be an element of mystery – the unavoidable reality of their inability to be fully understood. Thus, for the scope of our study, we must simply accept this imperfect intellectual grasp of the disciplines while affirming their use as rituals of Divine engagement.

Now that we have covered an overview of spiritual disciplines, we are ready to move on to the main body of this paper, which will critically examine the barriers to our engagements with spiritual disciplines. There is no rhyme or reason to their order, but each will seek to build a small component of the overarching theory.

Theological Presentism

All humans have a hunger for God, but much division erupts over how we choose to honor this quest. ³⁷ The views toward spiritual disciplines have varied throughout church history, yet the contemporary West often settles for one-generational models of orthopraxy, mining for wisdom in the annals of Christian tradition no further back than their own date of birth. ³⁸ While Christian history and the contemporary understanding of spiritual formation are often “siloed” off from one another, ³⁹ there remains a need to survey through our historical roots in order to understand how our contemporary models might be lacking. ⁴⁰ Digging into the past helps remind contemporaries of the large narrative tapestry to which they belong. ⁴¹ Research from Kelly Kapic helps illuminate four ways understanding Christian history plays into formation: (1) it protects us from the idealization of the new, (2) provides context for how to interpret Scripture with wisdom, (3) helps us understand our present experience without treating it as ultimate or ideal, and (4) allows us to see the full history of God’s followers as members of one larger family. ⁴²

Much work has been written in recent years in an attempt to reunify the dismembered aspects of our communal and personal engagement with the Triune God, ⁴³ but stark chasms remain and “theological presentism” – the view that a contemporary’s worldview is inherently superior than that of past generations – still abounds. ⁴⁴ Despite these divisions, experimentation with spiritual disciplines has incurred a rise in popularity. ⁴⁵ This is at least in part due to Christianity’s becoming a global religion, which yields an interconnectivity that naturally mitigates, and will hopefully continue to mitigate, tribalism while boosting curiosity toward dissimilar global practices.

Richard Foster offers a helpful consolidation for the multitudinous expressions of Christian religiosity: by picturing the branches or manifestations of the Christian church as separate streams that share the same Divine origin, we may isolate a helpful word picture to grow comfortable and even supportive of the fact we often flow in different directions. ⁴⁶ Foster’s research led him to present six main streams of ecclesiological traditions: contemplative, charismatic, holiness, evangelical, incarnational, and sacramental. Corresponding disciplines come stapled with each tradition: contemplatives contemplate, ⁴⁷ incarnationals incorporate practices of persistent attention toward Christ during monotonous tasks, and Charismatics have a penchant toward expressive worship. Gerald Sittser writes in this same vein, likening our arsenal of spiritual disciplines to drawing “water from a deep well.” ⁴⁸ His is an impetus to pursue orthopraxical unity with our ancestral ecclesial siblings, to learn from their disciplines and challenge ourselves with their mistakes. A.J. Swoboda expands on this by offering the analogy of a “potluck.”

Indeed, nothing could make a potluck worse than when everyone brings the same dish. A good potluck is a potluck where everyone brings their best dish. By analogy, each tradition in the church has a gift to bear. But we also have something to receive from others…It is only in seeing this rich feast that we can appreciate our own dishes and the dish of others. ⁴⁹

Foster, Sittser, and Swoboda each lend a wonderful vision of orthopraxy that reminds us that there is not one denomination that is simply “correct” or “doing things best.” Rather, each is simply attempting to embody Christ, the mission of God, and spiritual practices within their own time, context, and understanding. While there is perhaps no “law” that forces us to look behind our present generation, I would suggest that it is simply healthy to diversify our sources of spiritual wisdom so to avoid the self-love of theological presentism and see beyond the blinders of our contemporary milieu. Next, we will turn to the ways semantic confusions create apprehension and tribalism.

Semantic Confusions

In the course of this research, I found with surprising frequency that disciplines are often regimented by ethnocentric experience, which causes some to ridicule alternative practices – often simply due to milquetoast semantic or contextual differences. For example, one Pentecostal preacher who has been vocally critical of monastic practices like contemplation and meditation has also frequently preached about the practice of “beholding.” By the preacher’s own defintion, beholding involves sitting for long stretches of time in silence before the Lord and pondering His beauty. This description borders on an exact definition of contemplation. ⁵⁰ A half millennium earlier, Jeanne Guyon, a practitioner of “quietism” – what we nowadays refer to as contemplation – was one of many who were condemned as a heretic and thrown in prison. ⁵¹ Had the small French movement of which Guyon belonged simply called “quietism” something different, it could be suggested that this controversy would have never happened. ⁵² In another example, twentieth century evangelicalism has, in some ways, made the discipline of scripture study ultimate. ⁵³ This zeal causes an inbuilt skepticism toward disciplines that may lack direct “prooftexts.” For this reason, it is still common in Western Christian publishing to ask that authors leave out mention of meditation or breathing exercises so that audiences will not associate the book with Eastern traditions. ⁵⁴ Yet, in many ways, the practice of Lectio divina, though meditative, is arguably one of the more diligent ways to study scripture.

Examples of semantic confusions abound. But our point here is to emphasize that there is a penchant toward condemnation of practices that seem unfamiliar simply due strange terminology or the association of some practices with unpopular traditions. Therefore, in order to wade through the semantic issues, I would suggest a thorough dose of deliberate listening before jumping to conclusions. This is essentially just staying humble enough in our own conceptions of orthopraxy to be able to hear others out before casting stones. ⁵⁵

Next, we will examine the ways disciplines are shaped and influenced by cultural updating.

Cultural Updating

It is important to note that many spiritual disciplines are decided or influenced by time, culture, and location and that this is not necessarily a bad thing. For example, in the contemporary streams of the Western, neo-charismatic church tradition, it is common for a church to practice “prayer meetings” that look quite different to the style of prayer meetings described by Bonhoeffer or Jonathan Edwards, for example. ⁵⁶ These modernized prayer meetings contain instruments, singers, and prophetic ministers that lead the meeting, while others are invited to watch, sing along, and pray. ⁵⁷ It is not dissimilar to a typical worship set on a Sunday gathering, except all in the room are invited to pray with the words being sung or preached.

While it is of course uncertain how Augustine or Aquinas would react to this style of prayer meeting, it may be inferred from each’s critiques of the use of musical instruments during prayer time that if they were extracted from their contexts and placed in the present these modernized prayer meetings would not be their forte. ⁵⁸ Yet this is in no way to suggest that the contemporary iterations of prayer meetings are wrong, sacrilegious, or a waste of effort. There is no way to know whether Augustine, had he been born in 1980, would react to these modernized expressions of prayer. Similarly, if Bernard of Clairvaux, who was entirely critical of any sort of decoration or ornament in ecclesial contexts, ⁵⁹ had been born in 2001, perhaps his vitriol visual aesthetics would have never arisen. These figures were reacting to changes in technology and aesthetics, and updates of any form tend to invoke reactions from those who prefer the older customs – just consider the many Western churches of the 60’s and 70’s that had to hold separate worship gatherings to segregate the classical church hymns from contemporary Christian pop. My point here is to simply to demonstrate that cultural and historical location is inseparable from a milieu’s spiritual practices and to disregard the influence of time, culture, and location is superfluous.

While the Gospel has been called “the scandal of the particular” – in that the good news arrived in a particular time and location with a particular savior with a particular agenda and praxis – the practices that uphold this particularity are afforded more than enough fluidity to be adjusted with the changing flow of culture as long as there is enough balance maintained with its major traditions. ⁶⁰ As William Cavenaugh notes, “Christ remains immersed in history…yet, because he is God, all historical norms are subordinated to Christ.” ⁶¹ Therefore, it is my belief that a component of cultural updating should be added to our present working theory in order to account for advancements in technology and changing trends. Though I would like to stress that these should be additions as opposed to replacements of classical disciplines. In this sense, it is more akin to taking captive the practices of trends that a culture might enjoy and subordinating them as added tools in our ultimate pursuit to obey Christ. Like the Spirit of God reverse engineering the curses of Balaam into blessings, so too Christians are able to hijack certain cultural practices for the sake of Christ. ⁶² Even further, attempting to maintain the exact cultural practices of Jesus’ day would be simply distracting and off-putting, which ultimately disrupts the environment of the church to outsiders. ⁶³ No matter what our personal preferences instruct, worshipping through Gregorian chants will likely alienate far more than worshipping through post-60’s pop music.

Next, we will move into the ways dualism clouds our spiritual formation regimens.

Sacred-Secular Dualism

Another way in which our spiritual discipline skepticism is upheld is the notion of a sacred-secular dualism (or divide). For example, if one belongs to a non-denominational Western church, chances are they have indoctrinated the still popular idea that there is a split between “sacred” or “spiritual” things, and “secular” or “unchristian” things. ⁶⁴ This creates a framework in which certain acts are intrinsically spiritual (such as prayer, worship, Scripture reading) while others intrinsically secular (such as watching television, going to a non-Christian concert, or taking a lunch break at work). As several have suggested, the sacred-secular divide is a modern myth. ⁶⁵ In the Christian worldview, there is technically no secularity – there is nothing in the cosmos that is not spiritual. Yet this divide persists prominently in spiritual discipline regimens through feelings of accomplishment for participating in some sacred acts, while incurring abject guilt for doing “secular” acts or simply not devoting more time toward spiritual acts.

One way this frequently manifests in non-denominational contexts is the dichotomy between fasting and feasting. Many indoctrinate a belief that an act such a fasting from food or abstaining from other comforts or pleasures is inherently spiritual, while eating is either secular or, in extremist circumstances, gluttonous. The reason I demarcated this phenomenon within “non-denominational” contexts is because many mainline sects (specifically, the Catholic Church) maintain a calendar that advise both fast and feast days. In this paradigm, eating and even eating large amounts has been taken captive and engineered as a mode of spiritual engagement as opposed to the satiation of a gluttonous desire of the flesh. Therefore, crafting a universalized theory of engagement with spiritual disciplines must include a commitment to see all of human life as spiritual and no temporal acts as distinctly on one side of the dualistic spectrum.

Unlike the dualistic battles between light and dark seen in the likes of Plato (a prisoner breaking free from dark and ascending out into the light) or Manichaeism (a perpetual tug-of-war between light and dark polarities), Jesus outdoes these dichotomies by being an embodied light “that shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). ⁶⁶ It is not that the dark and the light separate from one another, like water and oil, but rather this Christ light exists in the darkness while simultaneously shining in it and overcoming it. Distinct, absolutized polarities between the likes of the sacred and the secular, the light and the dark, do not exist in Christian theology. ⁶⁷ We remedy this polarity by understanding with confidence that we ourselves exist in the darkness but overwhelm it by submitting all things to God’s good graces, taking all things captive for His sake, and resisting the dark by acting in accordance with whatever “proceeds from faith.” ⁶⁸ Therefore, a model of spiritual disciplines that insists on a sacred-secular, light versus dark, dualism is insufficient, and overcoming these stigmas requires an exercising of our Son-given authority by planting a flag in all actions, even the mundane or simple, in order to reverse engineer them for the sake of the kingdom.

Next, we will deconstruct the way personality variations and denomination play into spiritual discipline skepticism.

Personality & Denominational Jingoism

While spiritual formation materials are perhaps at their peak popularity, relationality is at its all time low. ⁶⁹ Thus, one of the larger threats to crafting a universalized thesis for spiritual practices involves how to mitigate the tendency to insist on our own, specified regimen of spiritual practices that is made entirely in our own image without the accountability of others. ⁷⁰ Since the alleviation of hyper-individualism (or “expressive individualism”) has been discussed at length elsewhere, we will not attempt to resolve this trend here. Rather, it is simply important to demarcate this tendency toward unhealthy, mildly-solipsistic, DIY spirituality as a disclaimer before discussing how engagement with spiritual disciplines may vary based on personality.

The conversation surrounding the intersection of psychology and spiritual formation has bloomed in recent years. ⁷¹ Yet notions of the way personality metrics interplay with spiritual practices remains relatively untouched. Although the past decade has yielded much discussion among Christian thinkers surrounding personality tests like the Enneagram and Myers-Briggs, ⁷² neither of these paradigms unfortunately hold up to psychological research. ⁷³ The one that has held up to psychological scrutiny and is widely used at the academic level, however, is the personality spectrum called the “Big Five.” ⁷⁴ These traits include extroversion, conscientiousness, neuroticism, agreeableness, and openness. ⁷⁵ While much research is still required in the realm of human personality, from what is known we can insinuate that where an individual lands on the spectrum of each of these five personality traits will help predict the types of disciplines they may prefer engaging in. ⁷⁶ For example, if we borrow Dallas Willard’s dichotomy of disciplines abstinence and engagement, ⁷⁷ which demarcates disciplines of “abstinence” (such as silence, fasting, and simplicity) and others as disciplines of “engagement” (such as service, study, intercession, and justice), we can suggest that personalities that are higher on the extroversion spectrum will gravitate toward disciplines of engagement that involve others (such as communal worship, praying in groups, or feasting) while moving less naturally toward disciplines of abstinence that involve copious amounts of alone time.

This can lead us to infer that perhaps individuals naturally fall into a specific schema of spiritual practices that aligns with the patterns of their personality, as opposed to choosing practices based on their perceived alignment with intellectual conclusions of orthodox practices. Yet this point may appear controversial due to the ways our cognition forces us to perceive our decisions as the result of rationalizations rather than as subservience to intense bias. ⁷⁸ Thus, variations in spiritual practices that cross denominational boundaries or personality matrices are often interpreted as an affront to established orthodoxy rather than as well-intentioned movements to engage in diverse worship practices.

This tendency to fall in line with an absolutist mentality toward our personal ecclesial experience could be called “denominational jingoism.” ⁷⁹ As Gerald Sittser writes, “Every generation of believers faces the risk of becoming a prisoner to its own myopic vision of the Christian faith, assuming that how it understands and practices faith is always the best.” ⁸⁰ Once denomination jingoism sets in, individualized preconceptions of how to embody Christ in specific contexts become ultimate and often absolutized. This logically results in many disparaging practices foreign to their own paradigms while estranging both individuals and communities from a spectrum of disciplines. Thus, it is important to be aware of our own personality leanings so that we can, at the individual and corporate level, unmask blind spots toward spiritual disciplines that differ from our biases, and avoid elitism toward practices that are dissimilar for our denomination of choice.

To build on these points further, we will establish an understanding of how learning styles and comfort zones play into this bias.

Learning Styles & Discomfort Zones

Recent research on the concept of learning styles illuminates how our preferred strategies of formation (in this sense, intellectual formation) are less static in their effectiveness than we might suppose. In general, most believe that they have a set or default “learning style” – as in, a preferred pattern for absorbing and internalizing lessons that typically include categories visual, audible, or kinetic learning – but recent research shows that one’s go-to learning style may be far more plastic than fixed. ⁸¹ In a set of longitudinal studies where subjects were educated through their preferred methods or styles of learning, there showed to be no direct correlation or proof that one’s desired or default learning style had any effect on their retention or ability to perform on a test. ⁸² Despite the vast majority of educators and teachers believing that learning styles have proven effectiveness, there is no tangible research to back this up. In most retention tests, subjects remembered more when the information was read rather than listened to. In other cases, subjects who figured they learned very audio-visually turned out to retain more information when they used kinetic styles of study. In fact, there is sufficient evidence that subjects learn information better when they consume it in styles they feel uncomfortable with. ⁸³

Though these studies were concerned with intellectual formation, it is not too far of a leap to speculate on how these conclusions might impact our spiritual formation practices. Following this line of thinking, we might suggest that set regimens of discipline might best be supplemented by the addition of preternatural practices, going outside of our preferred norms, and engaging with God in ways that do not directly match our comfortable ideals. This point is supplemented by the copious amounts of research that suggest that challenge is a necessary component of intellectual and character growth, and that in order for a subject to be challenged, there is a necessarily prerequisite of mild discomfort. ⁸⁴ Therefore, and building off the previous section, perhaps a helpful way to learn, grow, and change is by going against our personality types and base instincts by intentionally practicing or engaging with disciplines that are uncomfortable for us. ⁸⁵ The intentional pursuit of “discomfort zones” may be a helpful compass for spiritual direction. ⁸⁶

Further, I believe pursuing discomfort zones may be theologically sound. There is no clear demarcation that some disciplines should be performed by some while others are exempt. In Matthew’s account of Jesus’ teachings on spiritual disciplines in the Sermon on the Mount, He seems to work with an assumption that His followers will just naturally do these actions. Rather than saying “if you pray” or “if you give,” He says, “when you pray” and “when you give.” ⁸⁷ At least from a hermeneutical perspective, it would seem that almsgiving, prayer, and fasting are simply natural byproducts of following Christ. Further, it is easily inferred that these three practices were analogous placeholders for disciplines in general, and that this trio is not exhaustive but emblematic of any number of other practices. It is not too outlandish to assume that spiritual disciplines are both a natural byproduct of and supplement toward following Christ.

While we will naturally drift toward certain disciplines that align with our personality and mental models of Christian faith, this does not exempt us from the practices that go against our base comfortabilities. For example, Thomas Merton, who seemed as devoted to silence and contemplation as one could be, warned those who naturally took to contemplation that to reject vocal, petitionary prayer was to reject prayer itself, since prayer is, as seen throughout the canon, overwhelmingly petitionary. ⁸⁸ Further, when Jesus critiques the Pharisees, He takes aim at their focus on anemic, ancillary practices about tithing while neglecting to help the poor. ⁸⁹ This brings me to suggest that, though we all naturally drift toward certain practices, a Christ follower’s discipline regimen should be upheld by balance.

Though there may be a contemporary over-romanticizing of the Desert Father lifestyle, ⁹⁰ much can be learned from both their practices and their overzealousness toward practices. Their practice of simplicity, which has received plenty of critiques for being taken too far, ⁹¹ is a solid practice, but it can quickly become exaggerated, extending into rash asceticism; ⁹² similar exaggerations were commonplace with their practice of solitude. A contemporary of the Desert Fathers, Basil the Great, became a luminary in mitigating these extremes and establishing balance. Perhaps way ahead of his time, Basil taught and exemplified balancing simplicity with realistic needs for the body, and balancing solitude with community engagement. ⁹³ This functions as a serene instruction that disciplines should strive for balance and that individuals will grow through experimenting with different ends of the spectrum.

While discomfort zones should be pursued, it is important to retain an element of balance so as to stay grounded in realistic systems of practice, not burn oneself out, and be an example for others.

Finally, after covering all of these barriers, we are ready to draft a theory.

Drafting the Theory

As our study has shown, there is already a universality to our spiritual practices – we just tend to get tripped up in theological presentism, semantics, denominational jingoism, tribalism, personality variations, and experiential eclipses. It is my hope that the deconstruction of these barriers can lead to a healthy, unified approach to spiritual practices that serves as a tool to unify the larger church.

Perhaps we could deduce a theory in which we emphasize that spiritual life is a continual process supplemented by any temporal acts that focus our attention on God. ⁹⁴ Whatever temporal actions lead us toward the transforming Triune presence should be of consideration as a viable spiritual practice; whatever does not meet that simple criteria, or even more antithetically, leads an individual or community away from the Triune presence, should be discounted. In the event that a certain practice feels too outside the norm, we should not just write it off but allow it to be brought before church leaders and community for discernment and examination. ⁹⁵ But disciplines should not be discounted over sacred-secular dualisms, “chronological snobbery,” discomfort, unfamiliarity, or lack of desire to experiment or break from established norms. Further, a thriving ecclesial community must account for personality differences, the need for balance, and allow breathing space for varied rhythms of engagement. ⁹⁶ It is wise to only take disciplines that are within our means into consideration – there is no sense in stretching oneself to the impossible; and if we push ourselves beyond our means or praxis within our present stage of life, we will, undoubtedly, burn ourselves out, become discouraged, and be less engaged with spirituality moving forward. ⁹⁷ If we are to be “one body with many members” ⁹⁸ in earnest, we must license diversions from established norms of spiritual engagement for the sake of our individual and communal formation.

To end, I will share the words of Philip Sheldrake that inspired this research, which I also think functions as a succinct addendum for our study:

The gift and task of Christian life in the Spirit is to cultivate, nurture and sustain the variety of the manifestations of the magnitude of God's love in all forms of expressivity and creativity.... [where] human life and destiny are realized not in the pursuit of personal sanctification, or the soul's perfection, nor is it found in the exercise of individual rights and liberties, but in all those creative expressions of Love that lead to a fuller communion in the one God. ⁹⁹

Conclusion

Throughout this study, we have uncovered the nature of spiritual disciplines themselves, the importance of dismantling ecclesial assumptions that perpetuates skepticism, and the need for a universal theory of spiritual disciplines that accounts for each’s God-given uniqueness. Though our perceptions are often clouded by the muck of our own bias, we must not neglect spiritual disciplines that go against our base dispositions. With the help of our own discernment, as well as discernment from our communities, we can widen the ways in which we position ourselves in God’s transforming presence. This will fertilize a healthy differentiation which fosters a unification that enables an ecclesial context to serve its own body as well as the rest of the world.