Matters of spiritual praxis, perhaps unexpectedly, are of fundamental concern to theological inquiry.
While this assertion needs much development to begin adequate address, I will suggest reinvigoration of simple, venerable spiritual practices that anchor learning in an unsurpassed—and often unexpected—depth of intellectual, spiritual, and embodied engagement, no matter what doctrinal beliefs an individual holds. While that assertion would require manifold reams of multidisciplinary discussion, I will simply offer anecdotal considerations to support my bold claim.
Soberly recognizing that theological education often bears the confessional mark of its particular institution, I find the broad horizon of theological inquiry itself as an existential universal that all human beings experience (including the most unsuspecting twenty-something undergraduate), though its native process is most often unreflective and frequently goes unnoticed. Because of this, teaching theology demands a fine-tuned awareness of this universal impulse the multiple dimensions of the Truth, Goodness, and Beauty it seeks to apprehend through its conceptual communication. As Tom Beaudoin develops in his exquisite 2009 AAR paper, “Spirituality and Practice in Theological Education,” this process is consciously ethical:
I see the question of spirituality as an ethical question for the theological educator, a matter of asking what hand we have in shaping and forming, and toward what, in whose interest. Theological education has a role to play, however modest, in the sometimes irreversible good or damage we have the power to do to each other, individually and communally. As a result of these orientations, I think that being conducted into a particular mode of theological experience is as important for my teaching, even more so, than the clinching of an argument. (Part 3, para. 3)
When viewed from this perspective, navigating the theoretical terrain of the theologically conceptual becomes an ethical task, involving full awareness of the varied immediacy of students’ and teachers’ spiritual experience. Together, spiritual practice and the incisive reason of the critical mind potentially contribute deep empowerment of authentic—and self-authored—theological inquiry.
In this light, I have often witnessed Christian young adults in my theology courses wistfully longing for something to “do” to anchor their faith experience while simultaneously disclosing that they often find traditional devotions, services and liturgies available to them lackluster and unappealing. Teaching in Protestant churches, Roman Catholic parish settings and the Benedictine academic classroom, I have consistently found young adults quietly but deeply finding a refreshing spiritual anchor in moments of simple, unadorned stillness and meditative silence. As students repeatedly related these moments as profoundly grounding and meaningful, I realized the extraordinary potency of contemplative stillness—often overlooked as a practice— as a fundamental Christian action. As the tradition well attests, this stillness is anything but still; it is often the catalyst of extraordinary growth, movement and transformation.
Furthermore, the potency of meditative practice seems to be true regardless of the religious tradition wherein it is “packaged.” Again appealing to anecdote: I taught a survey of world religions that demonstrated this most fundamental, yet often forgotten (or not realized), practice of such inestimable value. Throughout the course, I provided students an interreligious “practice tasting” opportunity each week, inviting each of the students to enter the experience as though they had chosen the devotion as a means of their personal growth. I was quite surprised at the level of earnest engagement this group of non-religious studies/theology majors made as we took the five or ten minutes for the brief practice, and pondered the depth of inquiry these shared moments seemed to inspire.
The practices often generated a multitude of questions that remained foremost in students’ minds as we studied challenging didactic themes. Their momentary, experiential exposure to a choice practice of what some people “did” as Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and other traditions sparked a noticeable flame of interest and engagement; a native and innate form of theological inquiry the Christian tradition might recognize in its theology of grace.
Among many active practices, meditation clearly won first prize in the class. Students frequently related the value of interreligious experience as a means of more fully enacting their own Christian backgrounds (I have students’ permission to share these representative quotes):
I have learned the importance of meditation. Being able to sit in silence clears my mind so I can pray to God without distraction, plus I feel more relaxed”;
“My greatest enjoyment in the class was the Buddhist meditation. It might not be a really big theme of the section, but I enjoyed it. I really liked how we were allowed to sit in silence and just relax, but didn’t at the same time”;
“I have learned the importance of meditation. Being able to sit in silence clears my mind so I can pray to God without distraction, plus I feel more relaxed. I can see why the Buddhist monks use it. It definitely made me feel calmer about daily life and I have used it already on more than occasion to settle my temper.”
Many Roman Catholic students compared the meditative practices we “tried on” to Eucharistic adoration, interestingly voicing desire to find ways to practice their own traditions more fully. Similarly, students’ exposure to dimensions of varied interreligious ritual stimulated interest in Christian liturgical actions more familiar to them, as well as in deeper pursuit of the vibrant contemplative tradition within Christianity. These newly discovered intersections and connections yielded deepening inquiry into the challenging otherness of the unfamiliar, while initiating acutely reflective questioning of the more well-worn and comfortable.
I found it of deep interest that experientially touching these interreligious meditative practices helped many students recognize the value of their Christian backgrounds and inspired more theological investigation of well trodden, yet unconsidered, practices of faith. What that phenomenon suggests is multiple and intriguing, inviting much inquiry and consideration. In many ways, such active practices provided students the most profound pedagogy of the course, anchoring them in their interior life as they simultaneously grappled with the course’s demanding intellectual work as well.
While the brief semester weeks of this survey course merely allowed for a quick and insufficient toe dip into the depths of spiritual practice, they gave students something quite beyond an academic observation or analysis of the theological tradition. The “doing” seemed itself to be generative of an experience with transforming grace in students’ lives. No matter the background, rubrics and style of the practice itself, something happens to us when we practice them.
Excerpts from this post were featured on the academic theology discussion Web site www.wakeuplazarus.net.