What is the Spiritual Life?

Are we looking the wrong way?

Photo by Chase Clark on Unsplash

“Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” Acts 1:11

I don’t know, what would you do if you’ve been hanging around the resurrected Jesus for 40 days, he commissioned you to be his witness, talked about the power of his Spirit that you will receive, and then was lifted up until the clouds took him out of your sight?

I’d be looking up too. This ascension scene reveals many things. The disciples, whom we’d expect to be enlightened at this point, are still asking the wrong questions. Are we there yet? Are you going to do the whole restore the kingdom to Israel thing now? It is so damn hard to realize we are telling our stories wrong. For example, the story I am telling about God right now is that maybe this cluelessness was a sign that Jesus needed to stick around a little longer. Set things straight. Let it sink in. But he’s good with telling his eye witnesses and key teachers that they’re going to have to be good with not knowing the time or nature of these things. The kingdom of God is taking residence in their bodies, and the whole thing will be very contagious.

What a picture this is of the spiritual life. We long for encounters with God. And we stumble about trying to be some version of holy. All the while, we don’t see right. We ask the wrong questions. Often, we miss the power to love, confusing it with the power to influence, manage, or “save.” And what in the world does it mean? To have a spiritual life?

Here we have the angels telling the disciples to stop looking up. They aren’t going to find Jesus by gazing toward heaven. And Jesus already told them that he’s not impressed by fancy prayers (Matt. 6:5-15). He did try to teach the two on the road to Emmaus how to find him in the Scriptures (Luke 24:13-35). Turns out, as acquainted as they were with the Scriptures, they didn’t recognize Christ there. He’s hiding in plain sight all over the place. He’s in the narrative, in the metaphor, in the allegory, the typology…oh, and right beside them on the road in flesh and blood. But before they can see he draws out their stories, listens to their despair, illuminates the word, walks and walks with them, stops with them, and uses more material—bread—to reveal himself to them. More gloriously thick metaphor.

Eugene Peterson said something challenging our notion of how we even use the language “spiritual life.” His 83-year-old wisdom cautions us, saying this can be a cheap way to talk. In putting this name, “spiritual,” on a life, you are separating it from the rest of you and the world. Peterson tells us that the whole world is spiritual. He reminds us that the word “Spirit” is wind, breath. “People are all breathing all over the place, we are all spiritual beings.”

We compartmentalize it with the name. And then it is useless, because the spirit is not separate from the body. We need an integrated awareness, an attunement to our inner life and how it is driving the car of our behavior and relationships. Of our knowing God and participation in his kingdom. And we need an awareness of the stories that we are telling ourselves, and how that even affects how we read God’s word and often don’t recognize Christ in it.

It's so paradoxical because the spiritual life is an attunement to God and the soul, and yet it is also so very material. The spiritual life grows in the soil of our stories, our relationships, our lives. If we keep looking up to the heavens, we aren’t going to find it. But we still encounter Jesus all over the place. Not where we expect him, and not how we usually even want to. We dull and ignore his Spirit that is beckoning us.

There’s certainly practices that help us. Many in the church, and as a church. We are to practice opening the door of the kingdom of God together. We serve and receive the sacraments together. We read his word as a community, our different eyes and ears helping us to find him better. And we are in awe in the surprises we find. But he’s also in our faces. The face of your neighbor. And the faces of those we avoid. Or don’t like (Matt. 7:21-23).

We can exercise our spirituality in mindfulness, prayer, journaling, confessional groups, and spending time in nature. Laughing and crying are good ones. And a face that offers a benediction. There are many ways to exercise our spirituality. But Peterson is onto something about the spiritual life, as we like to talk about it. It’s not some side-life.  And it’s not immaterial.  

Peterson:

“When church is done well, there is no spirituality that you can define. Because it’s in everything that you do.”

I’m not there yet—integrated. I’m trying, I really am. But again, I’m encouraged by Peterson:

“This kind of work is never complete. At best, we plant seeds. And die. And wait for resurrection.”

I don’t know which is harder: the planting, dying, or waiting. Which is why I keep catching myself looking up to the heavens. The story of the ascension reminds me that I’m going to have to be good with not knowing the time or nature of these things.