As a part of my work as my congregation’s associate pastor of spiritual formation, I have been re-reading Ruth Haley Barton’s “Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation.” In just three chapters, I’m reminded of why Barton’s book is my favorite on spiritual practices.
Most authors on spiritual formation agree that the purpose of spiritual disciplines is to create internal space in which we are open to the transforming presence of God. None of us can change ourselves, at least in our deepest parts. And yet, many of us long for change. For me, the longing is best expressed in those moments when I get bogged down in the logistics of my life and, whether through fatigue or a negative attitude, get grumpy. I long to live my life with lightness and joy, but lightness and joy are not always natural to my ambitious and anxious temperament.
What I find unique about Ruth Haley Barton’s perspective is that once she establishes the purpose of spiritual disciplines, she goes immediately to the importance of naming our deepest desires in the presence of God, whether or not those desires are healthy or good. The deepest desires for significance, love, transformation, etc are all rooted in God.
We might liken our desires to the thirst the psalmist speaks of in Psalm 63:1:
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
Where, in the deepest part of ourselves, are we thirsty? It is a hard question to answer, and it’s one I tend to avoid. I’d rather turn on the television or listen to a podcast when I’m home after work. I’d rather cram my day full of tasks that I can feel good about accomplishing (even if I complain about being too busy or stressed). Getting quiet enough in myself to recognize my thirst feels dangerous. What if I name my desires, only to live years with them unfulfilled? I’m not sure I relish the thought of knowing the source of my thirst without any foreknowledge of how long I will wait before I find water.
But, Barton says that if we fail to look inward and acknowledge our desires in God’s presence, then “our work with the disciplines will be nothing more than another program entered into on the basis of external prodding or superficial motivators.” This is the last thing I want for myself or for the congregation I serve: I would grieve if we engaged with spiritual disciplines simply because leaders from the pulpit told us we should. I would grieve if our congregation received the call to engage in spiritual disciplines as one more burdensome activity tried and then given up, because they weren’t engaged at the level of their souls.
So, what do we do? Ruth Haley Barton recommends meditating on texts from the Gospels in which Jesus asks people to name their desires in his presence. In the case of the blind man Bartimaeus in Luke 10:46-52, Jesus asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus answers, “Lord, I want to see!”
How would you answer Jesus’ question? What do you want him to do for you? This is the starting point of engaging in spiritual disciplines. It’s worth taking the time to ponder.
Rachel Young is the associate pastor of spiritual formation at Clear Lake Presbyterian Church, in Houston, Texas. She is married to Josh, who also serves on staff at Clear Lake Presbyterian as the director of contemporary worship and media.
