Prepare the way?

I’m not a singer and certainly not much of a musician, but whenever I hear the opening words of Isaiah 40, my mind’s ear hears a tenor intoning, “Comfort ye my people,” and some strings, then “saith your God. Saith your God!” Then more strings, etc.

That was from yesterday’s passage on Pray-as-you-go. Then came the, ah, is it recitative?—“A voice of him that crieth in the wilderness: Prepare ye the way of the Lord. Make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” Followed by “Every valley...and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed. And all flesh shall see it together.”

Then it struck me: this isn’t talking about geography or geology. John the Baptizer said under questioning that he was the voice crying in the wilderness. Or maybe crying out to the wilderness.

And it occurred to me, the words of John also apply to me—that I’m invited (or summoned?) to prepare the way for the Lord in the wilderness of my soul. To make a highway for our God in the desert of my heart. “Every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill made low—the crooked straight, and the rough places (a) plain,” as Isaiah (and the libretto) say.

What shall I do to participate in this? How do I prepare the way of the Lord, flatten the mountains, etc.?

Before reading the rest of the chapter (where the answer likely lies), I took a guess. Or a few. Today, if I hear his voice, I should remember not to harden my heart (Ps 95; Heb 3). Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks all the time, don’t put out the Spirit’s fire or despise prophecies; avoid all kinds of evil (1 Th 5). Love God and my neighbor (Mk 12).

OK, back to Isaiah 40, which talks about God’s holiness and power and faithfulness. These attributes are important to remember. “To whom will you compare me, or who is my equal?” it says. So his wisdom, too.

And it commends those who “wait upon” the Lord—trust him, and live our lives with reference to him.

So nothing breathtakingly new there; basically I should welcome the Lord into my heart and mind, and remember to think true thoughts about him. And base my life on him, doing what he says. Pretty basic, which is not to say easy.

Is Liturgy Good?

Is the liturgy a good thing? Does it draw people into a space of more self-awareness or God-awareness? I guess it depends on the person and their experiences. When I was a young boy, I was taken to church by my parents (Mom mostly) and heard for example “The Lord’s Prayer” weekly. It didn’t do much for me, mostly because I just wasn’t interested—not interested enough in God, or in my eternal destiny. Fast forward a half-century: Many Sundays at Trinity, we hear the “Collect for Purity”:

Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee, and worthily magnify thy holy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

I really appreciate hearing this regularly, and though I suspect part of my appreciation stems from its novelty—I didn’t grow up hearing this regularly—I hope that it will continue to touch me in the years ahead. I hope these words never roll over me ineffectually, but always move me toward self-examination and self-awareness, and toward awareness of God’s loving presence.

What do I think is so great about this prayer?

First, it reminds me that God indeed knows me, as Psalm 139 and Hebrews 4 testify, the latter more emphatically: “And there is no creature hidden from his sight, but all things are open and naked to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do.”

How do I feel about God knowing my thoughts and even my subconscious desires and intentions? On one hand, it’s intimidating (which isn’t completely bad; as we read in Proverbs 1, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom”). On the other hand, it’s also a great comfort; I need never worry, “What if God finds out?” He already knows, and loves me anyway.

It’s important that I be reminded of this, because forgetting it leads to all kinds of evil: vain, unkind, envious or unforgiving thoughts; reckless words that pierce like a sword (Proverbs 12); and so on.

After the acknowledgment of God’s omniscience, we’re offered the opportunity to agree with the request to God: “Cleanse the thougts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit.” We want to breathe in the Holy Spirit (whose name also means “breath”) and thereby be cleansed.

About whether my thoughts need cleansing: do I agree with Psalm 19, “May …the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you”? Meaning they often are not? Yep.

Breathing in the Holy Spirit—how does that cleanse my thoughts? If I’m aware of the Spirit in me, if I allow the Spirit to remind me of God’s love for me, I won’t be so focused on wealth or status. I’ll have more power to clothe myself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. I’ll be better able to forgive others and more willing to serve them. My thoughts will be cleansed and will be more pleasing to God, who loves me more than I deserve.

And the point of this transformation, this growth? A life so filled and driven by the knowledge that God loves me that it’s also filled and driven by my love for God in return. And if I love him and think about his love for me, I’ll have a better chance of being my best self.

And as I become my best self, I magnify God’s name in my life.

A worthy goal.

Bodily formation? Spiritual formation?

An article in The Atlantic a few months ago described an astonishing experience of bodily formation.

Two years ago, at the age of 50, “Dan” weighed 230 pounds after a decade of putting on weight; he was 45 pounds above the National Institutes of Health's threshold of obesity. After ten minutes of walking in an art gallery, he needed a wheelchair.

Today he weighs 165 -- the clock's rolled back 29 years. He's off all his medicines, and a three-mile walk is a breeze.

What happened? There was no surgery and there were no mysterious fat-burning chemicals. His brother “decided to say the obvious”: that Dan needed to get into some sort of weight-loss program. Dan engaged in bodily disciplines, assisted by a behavior modification program that kept him accountable (David H Freedman, "The Perfected Self", theatlantic.com, June 2012, http://bit.ly/NVo5mt).

Bodily disciplines resulted in dramatic bodily change; could spiritual disciplines result in dramatic spiritual change?

Two years ago, Ray was a mean guy. Ray was a really crabby guy, and everyone in the church knew. Sadly, among all the things people knew about Ray, the other thing they all knew was that Ray would never change. http://bit.ly/MwcYB8

But today, Ray is a new man -- it's like the clock's rolled back 40 or 50 years, to a time before he was mean and bitter. A recent sermon talked about love, joy, peace, patience, and everybody thought of Ray.

What happened? There was no surgery and there were no mysterious rites of exorcism. One of his brothers decided to say the obvious: he needed to get into some sort of spiritual formation program. Ray engaged in spiritual disciplines, assisted by a behavior-modification program that kept him accountable.

OK, “Ray”'s spiritual transformation hasn't really happened. But couldn't it? What if... what if when Ray was about to say something unkind, this passage rose to his awareness: “Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such (a word) as is good for edification, according to the need of the moment, that it may give grace to those who hear”?

What if, when he thought to cut someone off on the freeway, these words appeared before his eyes: “Let us do good unto all men...” or “Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven”, because he'd just reviewed those verses?

Of course, the issue isn't just knowing these verses, but meditating on them, ruminating on them, and otherwise getting them into our hearts. Ray "knew the Bible better than God" according to the account, and that didn't change him into a man of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, and so on.

Here's the thing: if someone doesn't want to change, the practices won't necessarily change him. But for someone who does want to change, who believes his life is hidden with Christ in God, “the word of God ... performs its work in us who believe” as the Apostle Paul tells us.

The Scriptures are, of course, just one avenue God uses to change us; other spiritual practices can be very effective. Two other things would be helpful for “Ray”: first, a brother willing to speak truth to him in love; second, some sort of software—an app?—that could amplify Ray's self-discipline.

It's that second part that I find especially interesting: the idea that technology can help us become better people, rather than making us stupid or lonely or rude, is exciting. This hypothetical app could share some features with a gym or weight-loss app -- help with goal-setting, create charts/graphs, connect to a social network, etc.

So how can we encourage the practices—Bible study, Scripture memory, prayer, meditation, solitude, celebration, silence, etc.—without encouraging Pharisaism? I'll tell you: I don't know. It calls for mindfulness, a hard thing to maintain. But I have to believe it's possible to train oneself in mindfulness by constant use. If we can remember why we read the Bible, why we memorize it, why we pray or sing, that can help us. But as with any spiritual growth, we need help from the Lord. Fortunately, God is happy to help us become more like Christ (1 Thessalonians 5:23-24, Philippians 1:6, 2 Corinthians 3:18, Romans 12:2, etc.) and is near to us whenever we call upon him.

Finally, I'm an expert in something

Reading Merton today, I saw something that I know a lot about: impure intention.

An impure intention is one that yields to the will of God while retaining a preference for my own will. It divides my will from His will. It gives me a choice between two advantages: one in doing His will and one in doing my own. An impure intention is imprudent, because it weighs truth in the balance against illusion; it chooses between a real and an apparent good as if they were equal.

Merton, No Man Is an Island 4.4 (pp. 54-55)

Oh yes, I have a lot of impure intention. Take my money (please) for example: I give some to God's purposes, but the rest I want to use for my own. Or consider time—rather, attention: I pay attention to the things of God, like prayer, meditation, or thinking about how to serve and edify others (or myself for that matter). But after that I want to pay attention to what I want to pay attention to: writing some code, reading an "escape" novel, going on a bike ride, etc.

What does Merton mean when he talks about a real vs an apparent good? Simply that “True happiness is not found in any other reward than that of being united with God. If I seek some other reward besides God himself, I may get my reward but I cannot be happy.” (Merton, op. cit., 4.3, p. 54). These illusory rewards—the "vain things that charm me most" but cannot really satisfy—these are my false gods, my idols. They're only illusions, they don't satisfy, so why can't I just stop pursuing them? Like the Israelites, I hear the Lord calling me to "lie down in green pastures" (Psalm 23:2) and rest in him, to drink from "the spring of living water" that is God himself (Jeremiah 2:13).

"Do not run until your feet are bare and your throat is dry," he says to them in Jeremiah 2:25. And like them, I sometimes reply, "It's no use! I love foreign gods, and I must go after them." What is the cure to this folly? How can they, how can I, develop a pure intention? How can my corrupt thinking be corrected so that God's will is really mine? How can I surrender more fully to him?

It's not complicated, which is not to say it's easy. And it takes a long time. Basically it's spiritual formation, transformation, discipleship. It's the disciplines: praying God to change me, remembering and thinking about the truth (in the Bible, in the lives of those around me, in my own life): that "only in God is my soul at rest; in him is my salvation." (Psalm 62:1) Indeed, who will save me from the body of this death? Thanks be to God (Romans 7:24-25). Merton adds this word:

None of these things can be done without prayer, and we must turn to prayer first of all, not only to discover God's will but above all to gain the grace to carry it out with all the strength of our desire.

Merton, op. cit. 4.9 (p. 61)

And as it says in Hebrews 4:16, Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

What is Spiritual Formation? Part 3: Intention and Method

The whole Vision/Intention/Method thing is better explained in Dallas Willard's own words at http://www.dwillard.org/articles/artview.asp?artID=119 (I stumbled upon it while looking for a concentric circle diagram). So the rest of this post will be a few things that stood out from our spiritual formation retreat.

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Some key assumptions behind Christian spiritual formation:

1. that we are "homesick for Eden" (to borrow the title of a book by Gary W. Moon); that is, deep inside we long for a state of open fellowship with God and authentic community with each other;
2. that God longs for us and weeps at the petty obsessions and distractions that take our attention away from him;
3. that salvation is our journey toward union with God.

Eden had two trees (among others): the tree of life (eating from that tree represents our willingness to engage with God and follow him) and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (eating from that tree represents our willfulness to turn away from God and to live life on our own) -- the willingness/willfulness language apparently comes from Gerald May (Rollo's younger brother).

In looking at some practices to further our union of God, it may be useful to consider the progress of a romantic relationship, which may include:

• Conversation
  To advance our conversation with God, Premack's principle may be useful: pairing a desired action (e.g., prayer) with a frequent action (e.g., swallowing coffee). So if I can remember to thank God (or reflect upon him, or whatever) each time I enjoy a sip of coffee, then I'll tend to pray more than I currently do.
• Communion
  This has to do with being intentional about my willingness to engage with God and to follow him. To further this, I'll need to embrace the pain of withdrawal from my most cherished idols.
• Consummation
  I think this corresponds to the part where we go to heaven and are fully united with God after we leave this earth.

The fact that we have disciplines for spiritual formation (or "spiritual growth" or "discipleship"), and that they take effort on our part, doesn't contradict the fact that salvation (our journey toward union with God) is by grace. As Dallas Willard wrote in The Great Omission, grace is not opposed to effort, but only to earning... ah, or in a more complete version found here: "Grace is not opposed to effort, it is opposed to earning. Earning is an attitude. Effort is an action. Grace, you know, does not just have to do with forgiveness of sins alone."

Here's a story that may be useful in considering one's vision. Though neither God nor prayer is mentioned (Hello Esther!), I thought it terrific. Is this the kind of man I'd like to be?

The point of the disciplines is to bring us freedom to live in the right way, to enable me to receive power from God to live a holy life. For example, I'd love it if my careless words (Matthew 12:36-37) -- that is, the words that just pop out when I'm not thinking -- are words that bring life and encouragement and healing, rather than corrupted, useless words (Ephesians 4:29) that serve only to justify or defend myself.

By the way, this is the difference between magic vs following Christ; in magic or sorcery, we try to get power over others; in following Christ, we try to get the power to surrender ourselves to God.

A few disciplines

There are disciplines of engagement and disciplines of abstinence. This is a good thing: people who are sometimes rather manic and subject to sins of commission may need abstinence; those who tend toward sins of omission may need disciplines of engagement. Disciplines of abstinence include

• silence (this one is easy: just don't make any sounds and don't listen to any sounds and don't read or write anything. "You can't do it wrong")
• fasting
• solitude (this would be easier for extroverts if they could take a few friends along)
• slowing (e.g., spend 5 minutes to eat a raisin).

Disciplines of engagement include

• celebration because it's really good to remember the many blessings we receive;
• examen, enjoying God's presence, looking back on the day (or the morning) and considering my attitudes, those points where I was most/least grateful, etc. A fuller treatment is here
• confession
• study
• worship
• servanthood.

It's helpful (for me anyway) to think of these disciplines like training for a marathon or to work a ropes course (as described in another post) -- training being a set of activities which I can do, which will give me the power to do the things I cannot do by direct effort.

I hope that was helpful, and I hope you read Dallas's article, which is certainly more complete. My other posts on this topic are:

• Part 1: definitions and goals
  • Digression: Models of a Person
• Part 2: Vision

What Is Spiritual Formation? Part 2: Vision

So if Christian spiritual formation is the process of shaping one's character (spirit, will, heart) to be more like Christ, what does Joe or Jane Believer actually do to promote their own Christian spiritual formation? As previously noted, the will isn't very good at carrying out decisions like "I will not take another drink for the rest of the month" or "I'll run 26.2 miles tomorrow (though I've never run more than a 10K before)." But it is pretty good at decisions like, "I'll go to tonight's AA meeting" or "I'll jog a half-mile today."

In the same way, willpower alone isn't enough to transform someone like me (or you?) into the loving, joyous, peaceful, patient, kind, benevolent, compassionate, steadfast, gentle, courageous honest person that I want to be. So what does it take? Three words:

1. Vision:
   a vision of God, yes, but also a vision of what life with God could be like for me;
2. Intention:
   a desire -- a decision -- to move toward that vision;
3. Method (or means):
   concrete actions, tools, practices to get us there.

So if I want to learn a language -- Italian, say -- then I'll need a vision: maybe a mental image of spending a month in Siena or Venice or Florence or Rome, seeing beautiful things, enjoying delicious food, chatting with the natives and so on.

Then I must form an intention to pursue that vision. Otherwise, like Walter Mitty, I can spend my life daydreaming and never realize the vision. I also need a method to progress toward the goal. I might take classes, buy a book with CDs, get some software for my computer, find a conversation partner. I need all three -- vision, intention, method -- to learn Italian.

But it all starts with a vision. Without a vision and intention, the books will sit on the shelf, the lessons will be skipped, the conversation partner will be abandoned.

It's the same way with spiritual formation, or discipleship, or growth: without a vision of life with God, without an intention to follow God all my life, the methods (means, disciplines, practices) are useless to me. Either I'll abandon them, or they'll turn me into a Pharisee.

So the vision is really important. What would I like my life with God to be like? How does God want my life to look? What aspects of that are attractive to me? I don't want to say "envision your future and God will give it to you," but if what God wants for your life doesn't attract you, it won't form a useful vision for your spiritual growth.

Please don't short-circuit this step! Otherwise you may find yourself, like me, doing some "spiritual" practices for the wrong reason, or for no reason. I suggest taking half an hour or more to write down what you'd like your life with God to be like. You may want to read through Matthew 5-7, John 14-17, or some other Scriptures to give you some confidence around the content of your vision. At a retreat we each took 15-20 minutes to write down "what I'd wish for in my life with God" -- after which I saw that I really want a lot of things in my life to be different, and that I had merely scratched the surface.

For my vision, I read through parts of Colossians 3 and came up with a few of the ways that I'm not there yet. For example, it says "As God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience" (Col. 3:12) so I wrote down that I want always to be aware that I'm dearly loved by God. That I want to be less selfish, less self-absorbed, more compassionate. That I would remember that my worth is not measured by accomplishments, and to be more patient as a result.

By even just this one verse of Scripture, it's obvious that my current life with God is "not OK" -- but the other thing is to remember that that's OK! That is, God loves me as I am, even though he's still got more work to do on me. If, when I die some decades from now (Lord willing), I haven't grown or changed at all, then, well, that would be sad.

But it was exciting to me to think that one day I could actually be like what the Scriptures say. And for the people who know me, it's even more exciting because then I'd be a lot easier to work with and live with and be with.

A lot of what Jesus did in his preaching was to correct people's vision. "You have heard... but I tell you..." Jesus said over and over in Matthew 5:21-43. Jesus says in Matthew 13:44 that the kingdom of heaven is like a man who found a treasure in a field, and in his joy went and sold all he had. So again, if the idea of life with god doesn't bring joy, it's not going to be very useful.

The problem with a life apart from Jesus is that any soul is damaged by sin. When Jesus talked about gaining the whole world but losing my soul (Mark 8:36), he wasn't saying primarily that I'd go to hell after I die; his point was that my spirit will be out of whack with my mind, my mind with my body with my social relationships, and so on. I'll be confused because I won't know why I do things, my feelings won't make any sense, my soul will be cast down and fragmented.

So that's "the vision thing." It's really important. I used to hang out with a group called The Navigators, and they gave me some really clear detailed explanations on the methods -- I learned a lot about how to do Bible study, how to memorize Scripture, and so on. But I think that many of us took the practices as something you just do.

Nobody said, "God will love you more if you memorize more verses," but some of us got to feeling that our worth was tied in somehow with how many verses we memorized, how accurately we could quote them, and so on.

So the vision must come before anything else. Can the practices reinforce the vision? Certainly! That's why I'm trying to memorize the first part of Colossians 3: to solidify the vision in my mind.

And may the Lord help us to be transformed, and not to lose sight of the vision for why we do all these things.

What is Spiritual Formation? Digression: Models of a Person

Dallas Willard's model of a whole person is diagrammed as a series of concentric circles, as shown below (from http://www.raycowan.org/Christian/Dallas_Willard/Healing_The_Heart_DVD_series_slides_v5.ppt).

In the center is the will (because it makes decisions) or the heart (i.e., the center of things) or spirit (non-physical).

Surrounding the will in this model is a concentric ring representing the mind -- this includes the thoughts and feelings. The spirit, or will, can decide to forgive someone, but when that person appears, unhappy memories, hurt feelings and vengeful thoughts may arise unbidden--thus the distinction between spirit/heart/will on one hand and the mind on the other.

Next is the body, which is one's own kingdom ("kingdom" being the range of one's effective will). The body has habits, not all of which are under the full control of the mind. For example, some youth camps have a "ropes course," which includes platforms 30' or more off the ground. When you go there, the kids running the course give you a safety lecture so your mind knows that you're safe: the ropes are strong enough, and all the hardware they put on you is secure enough to stop you from falling. But when you get up on that platform, your palms, your armpits, and your feet may not know this.

Surrounding the body in this model is the set of social interactions. I'm a little fuzzy on this, but the soul is the integration of all these human functions. The psalms have in more than one place "O my soul" e.g., "Why are you cast down, O my soul?" or "Bless the Lord O my soul" -- but the spirit isn't addressed in this way.

Someone has observed that the will is not very good at making decisions like "I will not drink the rest of the year" and following through on that. The will can, however, make a decision like "I will go to tonight's AA meeting" and get the body there. For most of us non-marathoners, the will can't carry out a decision to run 26.2 miles, but the will can decide to get up today and run a mile or two... and after some days to decide to run three or four....

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There is another model featuring circles -- this one due to Larry Crabb Jr. and diagrammed at left -- but as I recently figured out, it's more of a diagnostic model--focused on psychological (from the Greek ψυχὴ/psuche, soul) problems. Anyway, in this one, the innermost circle refers to a one's Personal needs; it's full to the extent that someone feels their needs for security and significance have been met. These are two crucial longings that every human being has.

The next circle, the Rational one, has to do with models and beliefs; it's full to the extent that those models and beliefs in fact match reality.

If my mental model of the world says I'd be happy if only he did more of this, or she did less of that--if I believe all my problems are somebody else's fault--I can be quite sure my rational circle isn't full.

The next circle, the "Volitional" one, is full to the extent that one's goals are acknowledged. Suppose my father built a multi-million dollar business, and as he lies dying he tells me, "I have no doubt you will drive my company into the ground and destroy all I've built" (none of which is true by the way). Do you think I might develop a desire to show him he was wrong? And if I did, how likely is it that I'd say that to anyone -- even myself? Lots of people have lots of unacknowledged goals -- many of them not as extreme as that -- and to the extent they're not acknowledged, the volitional circle is empty.

The last circle in this model is the Emotional one. When an event impinges upon me, my feelings depend not just upon the substance of the event, but upon my goals (acknowledged or unacknowledged) which in turn are based upon my beliefs (rational circle) about where Life with a capital L comes from. My emotional circle is full to the extent that I consciously experience my feelings.

Someone with a non-full emotional circle may habitually yell, “I'm not shouting!!” Or if you ask how they feel about something, might reply "You sound like my daughter. Do you mean, ‘What are my thoughts on that?&rsquo"

There are lots of reasons why any of these circles may not be full, but as you've probably surmised, a healthy person has all four circles close to full.

What Is Spiritual Formation? Part 1: Definitions and Goals

It is not

...a set of practices favored by contemplative, academically-oriented white males who like to read Nouwen and Merton.

(name redacted)

What is body formation? It's the shaping of the human body, and it goes on all the time, whether I want it to or not. If I sit on the couch all day eating hot dogs, chips, and onion dip, that will shape my body a certain way. If I do a lot of aerobic exercise, drink lots of water and eat leafy greens, that shapes my body another way.

Similarly, spiritual formation -- the shaping of my character, my spirit, my will -- goes on all the time, whether I want it to or not. Consciously or unconsciously, my spirit is being formed continuously. (Since when we talk about spiritual formation we usually include habits of thought and speech and action, "soul formation" may be a more accurate term. But we'll stick with "spiritual formation" here to avoid confusion.)

What kind of spiritual formation goes on in my life when I watch "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" or meditate upon the photos in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue? How about when I spend time thinking about the many ways my wife forgives my self-absorption and the ways my friends accept me with my quirks? Or when I consider how fortunate I am to be able to attend church every week without fear, and to be able to afford brown sugar and milk and frozen organic berries with my oatmeal every single day? When I take time away from my own "important" pursuits to serve the poor and the lost, to feed the homeless, or help someone build a house for their family?

Anyway, if spiritual formation is the shaping of the human will or character or spirit, what is Christian spiritual formation but the shaping of the human character, will, spirit, heart to be more like Christ?

By the way, Christ's #1 teaching point, the gospel, was that you can enter the Kingdom of God (Mark 1:15) -- that place where God's will and your will are in perfect alignment. Paul's #1 teaching point, the mystery "which is Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Colossians 1:27) was another side of the same coin: "I am again in the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed in you" (Galatans 4:19). Indeed Jesus told his disciples to remain in him "and I will remain in you" (John 15) and Paul wrote that God chose us "in him (Christ)" (Ephesians 1).

With Christian spiritual formation thus defined, its primary goals should be:

1. To dearly love the Heavenly Father and delight in him, in order to:
2. Remove my automatic anti-kingdom responses/reactions, so that I can:
3. Fully experience life with God.

Spiritual formation -- what doesn't work

From Dallas Willard's The Great Omission:

Bible study, prayer, and church attendance... generally have little effect for soul transformation, as is obvious to any observer. If all the people doing them were transformed to health and righteousness by them, the world would be vastly changed. Their failure to bring about the change is precisely because the body and soul are so exhausted, fragmented, and conflicted that the prescribed activities cannot be appropriately engaged in and and by and large degenerate into legalistic and ineffectual rituals. Lengthy solitude and silence, including rest, can make them very powerful. (153-154)