“Every genuine expression of love grows out of a consistent and total surrender to God.”
Martin Luther King, Jr.
One of the things that disturb me most about the way we talk about spirituality and related themes in religious circles today is the way we often create false dichotomies between being and doing, prayer and action, contemplation and missional engagement with the world.
“Oh, she’s a contemplative,” we might say, while on the inside we might also be thinking, “so all she does is sit around and pray all day.”
Or, “He’s an activist… so that means he doesn’t pray very much.”
Or, “She’s a mystic… so that means she’s dangerous and theologically unsound.”
Or, “If we focus too much on spiritual formation, we will neglect evangelism and involvement with the needs of the world.”
“Soul stuff is soft stuff,” this line of thinking goes. “Let the contemplatives (or desert fathers) sit around and gaze at their navels while the activists fly over their heads and get the job done.”
I actually heard a statement like that made from the platform at a leadership conference, and for many reasons I have never forgotten it. First of all, it made me feel embarrassed about who I was—someone who was discovering the presence of God very powerfully in solitude, silence, and contemplation—and someone who was an activist and desperately did not want to believe that that meant “flying over the heads” of the desert mothers and fathers whom I had come to respect so deeply. I was frustrated that a respected leader would use his platform to further cement a false dichotomy that is rooted in so much fear and misunderstanding.
But the fear is real. The activists fear that if contemplatives emphasize prayer and the inner life too much, people will become self-focused and narcissistic and never get anything done. The contemplatives fear that activists don’t pray enough, that they are shallow, and that too much action causes people to become disconnected from the reality of God within. And then because we are afraid of falling into the excesses of one side of this polarity or the other, we subtly or not so subtly dismiss and diminish aspects of the spiritual life that must be held together in tension if our spirituality is to be healthy.
It is time we get beyond this.
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Ruth Haley Barton is founding president of the Transforming Center (www.thetransformingcenter.org), a ministry dedicated to caring for the souls of pastors and Christian leaders. A trained spiritual director (Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation), teacher, and retreat leader, she is the author of numerous books and resources on the spiritual life including Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership, Sacred Rhythms, and Invitation to Solitude and Silence.
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