For many years, I have been actively involved in Catholic Church reform movements, advocating for a church that accepts men and women as equals, that is not run by an authoritarian old-boys club, and that is LGBTQ supportive. I write and lecture as well about the dangers of rigid fundamentalisms and advocate for an historical-critical understanding of Sacred Scripture.

That being said, my current focus is the need for spirituality.

Some people equate spirituality with religion, but the two are different. Religion is the medium not the message. Healthy religion should promote spirituality; but it does not always happen. A lot of contemporary people, like the “nones,” are, in fact, turned off by institutional religion and proclaim that they are “spiritual but not religious.” People hungry and thirsty for spirituality are searching for satisfying and solid nourishment. Too often, in many churches, they are finding the cupboards bare or the food unsavory.

Over the years, a number of friends and former students have gone on pilgrimage to the shrine of the Apostle James in the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain. There they found a satisfying sense of spirituality that changed their lives. But many people can really do it closer to home.

In Chapter 7 of John’s Gospel, Jesus cries out: “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and let the one who believes in me drink.’’ (John 7:37-38) Jesus’ call is significant. People do thirst for more. Thirst for justice, for truth, and for compassion. They thirst for the Divine.

Spirituality connects people to the Divine. To the depth of Reality. It provides peace and harmony in our lives. Spirituality goes to the very essence of what Christianity is all about. Spirituality is not something added on top of our Christian life.

Spirituality should be our way of life: in LIVED awareness of the Divine Presence, the Sacred, the Ground of Being, Emmanuel, God with us. There are many ways to describe the depth of Reality, just like there are many ways to describe what it means to love someone and to be loved. Some of the old images of God may no longer speak to contemporary people; but God has not abandoned us. And we should not abandon God. We simply need to reflect on better ways of conceptualizing and speaking about our experience of the Divine.

I still remember the observation by Dag Hammarskjold (1901-1961), former Secretary General of the UN: “God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder the source of which is beyond all reason.”

As I have stressed before but stress again, our communities of faith – like our schools, study groups, and our parishes — should be centers of excellence where people speak courageously about their awareness of the Divine Presence through personal shared faith stories, through drama, music, and art. And through deep reflection. We should invite and welcome the questioners and the seekers. We need to listen to young people at the start of their adult lives and to older people, confronting their life transitions.

But people, far too often, get busy and ignore what is really important in their lives. My old friend Fr. Richard Rohr (born 1943) said it well in his 2018 book Breathing Under Water:       

        “Christians are usually sincere and well-intentioned people until you get to any real issues of ego, control power, money, pleasure, and security. Then they tend to be pretty much like everybody else. They are often given a bogus version of the Gospel, some fast-food religion, without any deep transformation of the self; and the result has been the spiritual disaster of “Christian” countries that tend to be as consumer-oriented, proud, warlike, racist, class conscious, and addictive as everybody else — and often more so.”

Regardless of our place in the human journey, the Gospels remind us that God lives and walks with all women and men: all races, all nationalities. God is not focused on gender or sexual orientation. Matthew 25 is very clear: “’Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, who are members of my family, you did it to me.’”

Christian spirituality is committed to the search for truth within a healthy multicultural and multi-religious pluralism. It involves both intellectual inquiry and personal introspection to discern facts from falsehoods and to understand one’s own beliefs. 

What to do:

  • Develop personal spiritual practices. Engage in daily reflection, finding time to meditate or praying to understand your thoughts and feelings.
  • Practice mindfulness, finding spiritual experiences in your daily life.
  • Make a habit of recognizing and appreciating the good things in your life to boost feelings of hope and kindness.
  • Develop a sense of purpose by reflecting on the meaning of your life and what you believe is right and wrong. And then act accordingly.

 

 For future reading and reflection: Awareness: Conversations with the Masters by Anthony de Melo, S.J.

 

  • Jack 

(Email: john.dick@kuleuven.be)

 

10 thoughts on “Spirituality

  1. Dear Jack,

    You have written so many deeply thoughtful, evocative, and challenging pieces for us to think about and respond to. However, for me, this is your most profound and personal message and has touched my heart. It is a true call to action with a blueprint to follow to achieve personal holiness. I plan to keep these words permanently and reflect on them as I try to live this call to deep spirituality. Thank you, once again, dear friend, for being an inspiration and the voice of God speaking to us.

    Peace,

    Frank

    1. Dear Frank
      Many sincere thanks once again. Spirituality is at the heart of what we are all about.
      Very warmest regards good friend!
      Jack

      Dr. John A. Dick – Leuven
      Historical Theologian

  2. This is a great and very timely reflection, Jack. Thank you. By the way, I miss the various pieces of artwork you used to have upfront. They were always appropriate and I always enjoyed looking at them. They have cachet. Bring’em back! All best, Rudy.

  3. As my Saginaw seminary alumni Frank and Mark say, “personal holiness” and “the spiritual life” reflect your exhortation, Dr. Jack, for “understanding one’s own beliefs.”  Thank you! 

    First, in this time, especially in a November of rich re-membering, I believe the “matter” of living a form of “spiritual” life (“bios”) goes beyond surviving as a thing barely alive (“zoe”), to becoming more human, relating to one another in the fleshy-now= the liminal pause twixt before-birth and after-death.  

    Second, if we encounter the Ever-Present Origin through religion, then religion is a means not an end, that articulates in words (“re-legere”) before acting, then reflects upon actions with words that include one another, then repeat, then again (“re-ligare”).  Religion and literature speak of the good and the beautiful.  Pope Francis encouraged reading literature as a must for people in religion, of any religion, because literature describes our gerundive, originative “becoming” more human, our ups, downs and arounds, including the divine.  

    Third, today’s words, my current thinking and comments, surely only hint at the originating impulse and intuition of the Itself within myself.  In our conversations here, I don’t have to put the spiritual above the trinitarian edicts of Nicaea (this is not the inquisition of Arius).  The “via negativa” might be the only verbal way forward, trying to remember that holiness is just one perspective of the aperspectival Whole.  Humanity’s perichoresis around the great attractor– the Origin of all that once was, is now, and ever will be– arrests us poetically, aesthetically in beauty and goodness; and rationally, ethically in many truths and varieties of integrity.  

    Fourth, on Nov. 9 the gospel reminded me that “God,” to use that Anglo-Saxon term, regards us each and all as alive, both before birth and after death.  I think we need the “pause,” as Camus said, to wait for “It,” to be “inoperative” enough to allow possibilities to ripen (Giorgio Agamben’s term, in “Homo Sacer”).  As Bach wrote in one of his hundreds of cantatas, “God’s Time Is the Best Time,” not ours.  In Bach, and in most music, “Gelassenheit” abounds=  the ritardandi of tempi, the stretti of chromatics, letting it go to a re-solution in a surprising harmonious return.  That is “the key.”  

    And, fifth, in this time of “No Kings” in the USA, on the eve of “Christ the King” Sunday, I recall that Yeshua, at His trial, did not claim being born a king, but credited Pilate– and the clergy colluding with the occupation– for using the term “king” that warranted His crucifixion for treason.  What the gospel writer depicts, I think, is a kind of passivity in Yeshua that could be an antidote to our addiction to assertion and domination.   Please correct me if I am off course.

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